shoutout to the Muppets Mayhem for giving Dr. Teeth an ex-girlfriend who he kind of still has feelings for, but instead making her conventionally attractive they made her a human version of Roz from Monsters Inc

I saw your requests are open and I wanted to ask if you could write something about the brothers accidentally standing MC up on a date. Like they forgot or had something else to do and just missed it and left them there. Then idk maybe they’re reminded about the date later by someone and figure out how the ending goes?? Sorry if that’s not a good explanation, I’ve never really sent a request before but if you write this I am looking forward to seeing it! :D

Getting stood up on a date

Brothers x gn!reader

No worries, and what an honour to have your first request! Sorry again for the slight delay - my laptop died :,)

Warnings: slight and implied violence in Satan's, not very angsty because I'm a softie and I need happy endings

Lucifer

For the first time in forever, he isn’t drowning in paperwork. This man can finally take his well earned break, away from all the prince’s childish games and his brothers never ending quarrels. 

For the first time in over a week he can afford to lean back and tune the rest of the world out. Maybe he would take a quick trip away from the HoL so he wouldn’t be thrown surprise paperwork?

Settles for a well earned day of doing absolutely nothing. Makes himself a cup of tea and goes to bed early for the first time in a very long time.

What he’s forgotten however is the date you had scheduled. How ironic is that. The reason why he worked so hard to clear his desk was to make time for you and yet all that work had burnt him out so much he forgot to go

Meanwhile you’re sat awkwardly at a table for two in cafe lament. It really wasn’t like Lucifer to be late so you were getting really antsy, still not getting a response to your texts

It’s about an hour after your agreed time that you realise you’ve just been stood up. Did something important come up? He promised he’d have all his work done before the date… 

Lucifer wakes up bright and early the next day, feeling refreshed and… oh shit

It is only 5 am when he comes knocking frantically on your door, his eyes searching your tired face for any signs of hurt

Apologises profusely, head in his hands as he can’t bring himself to face your hesitant gaze. How terrible that he’d left you hanging there with the expectation that you’d be enjoying a date together for diavolo knows how long. 

He’s determined to make it up to you, how does renting the entirety of the amusement park to yourselves sound? How about going to Godevil Chocolatier? He’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel better, to let you know that you never deserved to be left hanging.

Mammon

He was literally a block away from the cafe when he heard a familiar voice… and not the good kind.

When he looked over his shoulder he paled, eyes meeting 4 other pairs of very angry witches. 

Sprints straight through the crowded city street, bowling over every pedestrian in sight. Takes every back alley and short cut possible, cutting through the occasional store. This group of witches is strangely persistent in their chase, their demands for their grimm never too far away. 

While all this is going on, you’re still waiting on the patio, puzzled at all the commotion in the square. You ask a group of students you recognize what’s going on and they tell you that apparently there’s a maniac getting hunted down by at least 5 angry witches after cheating on them all at the same time. They were close enough with their speculation huh. What a weirdo you think to yourself, send Mammon a text joking about the situation.

>> careful, I hear there’s an asshole who got caught cheating on 5 different girls at once

>> he’s being chased down to the ends of the earth by witches so maybe you’d be able to give him some pointers lol 

He doesn’t even read the texts, leaving you alone with two servings of pastries. 

At some point it becomes too embarrassing to stay, the customers seated near you clearly able to tell you’ve been stood up, and you order some boxes to take home the food.

The second you open the front door, Mammon is there to meet you, tears in his eyes as he sputters out a few sentences you can’t quite understand

To spare the both of you from the prying gazes of his brothers, you go to your room to talk. “It was me!” he blurts out the second the door closes behind you “I was the asshole. The one running around downtown I mean. And an asshole for leaving you like that too”

Deflated and so incredibly ashamed of himself. He could defend himself saying it wasn’t it his fault but he knew deep down that it was still his fault. He chose to cheat 5 different witches out of grimm, he had no room to complain when they inevitably came after him. His only regret is that it had to be today and it had left you feeling alone and humiliated

Give him another chance, he isn’t above begging for it, and he promises he’ll truly let you feel as treasured as you are to him

Levi

He’s been looking forward to this movie date for WEEKS MC. It’s marked on at least 6 different calendars on his various electronic devices! There was no way in hell he was going to miss it.

He stayed up all night to be able to guarantee two tickets with seats next to each other, and you actually accepted his invitation! You both made it bright and early to the theatre before too much of a line was formed and Levi decided it was his time to shine, offering to go buy you both some snacks from the concession stand.

 You’re more than happy to stay behind, waiting in the comfortable darkness of the theatre as levi does what he needs to

That would be if things went to plan (and things most certainly did not!)

Some schmuck took it upon themselves to cause a scene today of all days, and somehow Levi has now somehow found himself stuck in the growing crowd. The time until the start of the movie only got closer and closer as his annoyance started to grow faster and faster. 

For the first time in 2 whole months, Levi accidentally summoned Lotan through sheer irritation, causing a huge mess in the foyer while you and everyone else in the theatre remained unaware.

You’re starting to wonder just what the odds of Levi bailing on you would be, checking your DDD about every second now 

You’ve been sat awkwardly with no date and no snacks for about 15 minutes when the doors of the theatre are thrown open dramatically and a dark figure runs over to your seat

There are more than just a couple things you have to tell him off for when you notice just how… dishevelled? and panicked he is - hold up why is your hair wet??

“I-I’ll explain everything later!” he whisper-shouts, eyes hesitantly meeting yours

 “I’ll make it up to you and - oh no, how long did I leave you for?” he moans, eyes darting around nervously, “This was all my fault and I… I’m not deserving of your forgiveness but, argghhh!”

“-It’s alright Levi, it really is - the movie was something you were looking forward to as well though, so how about we just watch? You only missed a few minutes after all…”

>> the rest of the movie was great, though getting out of the half flooded theatre at the end was not…

Satan

It really isn’t like Satan to forget things. As disorganised and chaotic as his sin might be, he likes to hold himself higher than that, keeping all his underlying rage hidden as he shows his gentlemanly facade to the world. 

That being said, that rage bubbling away under his skin is still there, and it would do all the lesser demons good to keep that in mind when approaching him. 

Apparently the one standing before him didn’t get the memo, snarking away in front of him, as if being part of the exchange program would save him from that ugly side of him. 

With little more than a second to rethink his actions, Satan lunges over the library table and violently grabs the demon’s throat.

Snarling incoherent curses and profanities, he shoves him against a nearby bookcase, his mind screaming for his rage to be let out

.

It’s about a half hour later than the time you’d agreed on with Satan and it’s starting to dawn on you that being stood up was actually an option.

Is it really though? You ask yourself; it’s a cat cafe, surely he wouldn’t miss out on this for the world!

That’s what you reason with yourself as you convince your brain to wait just a few more minutes because surely he was just running a little late, right? There’s no way he would have forgotten, right??

The amount of relief that washes over you as you see his figure pushing through the crowded streets is impossible to describe in words an- “wait why are you covered in blood?”

Satan???

“It’s all right, it’s not mine,” he explains, slightly out of breath

“Oh, thank goodness! I- Wait-”

“More importantly, I’ve been leaving you hanging for a while now, right?” He continues, ushering you into the cafe, “I can’t exactly do anything about the fact that I’m late, so I’ll just have to make it up to you now, and on our future dates if you’d allow me.”

Asmo

 Asmo promised to treat you to a night you’d never forget sometime and went all out with a reservation to the fanciest restaurant in all of the devildom. 

It was an overwhelming social experience, watching all the well dressed and classy demons of the land walking by, making you feel like you were sticking out. Being seated at the best table in the house was also scary alone, it was almost as if the waiters and chefs expect you to be of a certain tax bracket to even be able to breathe the same air as they do

What’s worse is that your date has left you out to dry here, the very obviously empty seat in front of you letting just about everyone else know you’d been stood up. 

You feel dejected and humiliated, unable to even just enjoy the expensive food with all the very noticeable stares and whispers 

Deciding to save what little face you have left, you get up to leave only a couple bites into your dinner, leaving the fancy building onto the cold rainy streets.

Oh yeah, it’s raining now, because comedic timing is a thing apparently

You decide to suck it up and run as fast as your fancy shoes let you, your mind just left frazzled 

About 10 minutes into your jog home you hear footsteps fast approaching from behind and just as you manage to turn around you’re met with a tackle hug from the one and only Asmo

“Mc!” he cries, ushering you under a nearby tree, “you weren’t there when I went in and I got so worried!”

“...Well maybe if you hadn’t been late and left me alone for half an hour, we’d be enjoying a nice dinner right now!” you yell a bit louder than expected, though your saltiness is very reasonable.

Asmo winces at your words, he knows he’d hurt your feelings and your trust but explains that he’d been trying to surprise you with a gift 

“Not that it makes it okay for me to just leave you hanging like that though - I really should have gotten this ready for the time we agreed on, but I hope you’ll accept it anyways.” He quickly adds, hesitantly offering you the slightly wrinkled bag he was holding, “I feel really bad for abandoning you like that, so please let me make it up to you, darling.”

Beel

 It’s pretty… no, incredibly easy to get Beel’s attention if you know what to grab it with - and it really isn’t a secret what it is. 

Food. Literally any kind of food out there would cause him to halt in his tracks. 

The hunger of the avatar of Gluttony is not to be underestimated, yet he chose to hold off on eating while shopping with you to share a lunch later in the day. He really went into the outing thinking he could hold off eating for a couple of hours and yet only a half hour in and he feels as if he might as well be dying.

He really couldn’t hold in his hunger this time, and excused himself to go raid the closest fast food restaurant before you returned.

You had just left to go to the bathroom and yet when you returned Beel was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t answering any texts and you had a sneaking suspicion of what had happened.

Feeling a bit bummed at being left alone, you wandered a bit before setting off for home with a heavy heart. 

You know how hard it must be for Beel to keep his impulses under control but it still didn’t change your disappointment as you shuffled home awkwardly. 

You were only a couple minutes away from the steps of the HoL when you hear a heavy pair of feet approaching 

You turn to see Beel rounding the corner, several large bags under his arms. Letting him catch up to you, he blurts out a quick apology before handing over a sizeable amount of food and gifts

You’re left speechless at the amount of stuffed animals and assorted trinkets he presents you as Beel guiltily avoids your gaze

“M’sorry about that MC… I really am…”

“...Beel, what is all this?”

“Some things to make it up to you! …But I know it doesn’t make up for what just happened so I was thinking we go home early and we can make dinner together. Whatever you want MC, so please don’t be sad.”

Belphie

Funnily enough, the reason why the avatar of Sloth was late to your date at the dreaded petting zoo was not because he was sleeping

Honestly if he had slept in that would have been easier for you to write off than this.

Somehow Belphie had managed to get caught up in another one of Satan’s pranks on Lucifer and this time, there were consequences (shocking, I know)

Just an hour before you had planned to meet, Belphie and Satan were caught red handed trying to change the cue of Lucifer’s record player with one that was hexed to ruin all vinyls it came into contact with

Why he was trying to pull such a dangerous stunt right before your date is beyond you, but obviously the plan went south and obviously this royally pissed Lucifer off

Flash forward to now - while you’re waiting outside the zoo, excited to see the devildom animals Belphie’s stuck inside, getting lectured and very much not on his way

You've been waiting almost an hour now in the heat for your date to get here and your patience is starting to reach it's limit.

No text, no nothing! You don't know if it's even worth risking what's left of your pride to keep waiting

But lo and behold, not a moment later, you spot a very disgruntled Belphie running straight towards you

Feeling pretty hurt, you don't exactly try to hide the displeasure on your face as you let Belphie try and explain what exactly he put you through

Belphie explains as quick as he can, pointing out how stupid he himself was to even risk getting caught by Lucifer

He knows not to show any of his own annoyance since he can admit he only has himself to blame

"I know it was really stupid and I don't have any excuses. Would you be willing to give me the chance to make it up to you right now? You will? That's great then! We should see as much as we can before Lucifer notices I ran off then :)"

"...You didn't just piss Lucifer off and then... run away, did you?"

Thank you guys for 300 followers!

I am a 5'6" biological female, I use she/her/they pronouns(god that sounds cringey), have medium length dark brown hair, and turquoise/greenish eyes(i don't really know what color they are), and I wear black glasses with clear rims. I have what most would describe as the 'pear' body shape with larger hips and B cup breasts. I tend to wear baggy, comfort-first sort of clothes with the occasional dress and one piece.

My zodiac signs(If you care) are Virgo(sun), Libra(moon), and Virgo(ascendant). I also have the INTP personality type.

Facts about me:

I have been told than I have a high maturity level for someone my age(but I laugh at dumb jokes so idk if I believe them)

I enjoy cracking jokes about anyone and anything, NO ONE IS SHIELDED FROM MY COMEDIC WRATH

I am kind, polite, relaxed, have a dark sense of humor and generally low self-esteem

I try to be open-minded, and am always looking to improve my talents and relationships with those I care about

Critical and suspicious of literally EVERYTHING (especially myself)

I can be insensitive, petty, and sometimes even knowingly dismissive of my faults, and try to blame others instead

I lie a lot more than I'd like to admit, but try to make up for it and improve

I come from an primarily Christian family, my favorite season is winter, and I would like to create other forms of art other than writing at some point

I used to have what could be considered a phobia of insects/bugs, but it has become a lot mild over the years

I mostly enjoy physical affection more so than verbal, but if worded in certain ways that can touch my heart, I will prefer the latter, and you will have acquired a loyal ally (I respect the power of words, I am a writer after all)

I am what is described as a HSP (hyper sensitive person, look it up if you're curious)

I have a condition called Exotropia (aka drifting eye) in my left eye that has been corrected through 3 surgeries (but I still have to wear glasses in order to maintain it).

A firm believer that nothing is truly impossible, and that people hate most in others what they hate in themselves

Confused by everything 24/7… EVERYTHING

Likely on the autism spectrum

Likes: Being helpful, alternative, rock, and techno music, order and peacefulness, making people laugh, Sci-Fi media, writing/creating, tarot cards, D&D, anything to do with the diversity of personalities, psychology⁰

Dislikes: Being a burden, country music, drama and chaos, low effort creative endeavors, hypocrites(ironically), closed minded people, bad grammar, things not going my way, extremely religious people, weird internet trends and phrases (ex: pogchamp, dummy thicc, boomer, etc.), most of tumblr, Twitter

And that should be most of the important stuff (just so I don't get carried away)! I am very interested to see who you match me with!

Thanks so much! That's a lot of useful information! Now with that being said:

I match you with:

Sollux Captor!

Now hear me out

I feel like you two both compliment and contrast well

I definitely hc him as the type of person that a lot of people misread because of his initial aloofness

Also Short King™

I also hc that he doesn't verbalize as much as others because of his speech impediment, so I think your lean towards physical affection would initially pull him in

Also? HUGE grade A nerd. Would indulge in literally anything you would like and would have in common

I feel like he's definitely been a Dungeon Master a couple times and would want to set up a D&D match with you

I think Sol struggles with sarcasm and getting people to take him seriously so it would be refreshing to have someone there for him that could just listen yk.

1000000% offers to clean your glasses for you

Dark humor? That's what he got his master's in, babe.

Bro can and will sit and joke back and forth for hours.

Sollux is definitely on the internet most of his life, so I feel like anything you'd be confused about he would have at least 5 different answers for it, bros a walking encyclopedia.

Bonus: your song!

I imagine he'd listen to stuff like Midwestern emo rock, so have Peach by The Front Bottoms!

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask!

Liability: Chapter 4

Summary: A mating bond is supposed to be sacred, right? It seems to be working out just fine for everyone but him. At the first Solstice Lucien tries to spend with the Inner Circle, just to see his mate, everything goes wrong. The second Solstice is even more of a disaster than the first one. And there seems to be no end to his descent to rock bottom. As Lucien navigates his everchanging bonds with family, old and new friends, and enemies, his thoughts race towards self-destruction, only halted by a mischievous and dangerous glimmer of hope, a thread tying him to reality. And that thread is indestructible. Is that a blessing or a curse?

Chapters

AO3

Warnings: major angst and some promise of adventure in the next chapter. Eris has arrived.

That’s what you get for a tiny sliver of hope creeping up your spine. He wasn’t even angry. The talons of disappointment shot directly into his heart. Why did he have to leave that room just at that moment? Why did he have to see it? He winnowed out of the River House. He would never come back.

x

All Rhysand heard was the distinct hiss of magic. He stepped outside of his office and Lucien was no longer there. He… winnowed out. Again. The home his mate and newborn were sleeping in, Lucien Vanserra could winnow in and out of. He cast his mind out, searching for those present. Feyre upstairs, with Nyx, Helion accompanied by Amren, Varian and Mor. Azriel and Elain. Azriel and Elain. It all made sense.

He stormed towards the hall and cleared his throat loudly. The pair jumped apart.

“What are you doing?” The High Lord demanded, his eyes flashing violet. Tendrils of dark power rippled from his skin as he waited for Azriel to explain.

“Why is that your business?” Elain challenged, though her cheeks were flushed.

“It is my business when your mate is in this house. How long am I meant to count on his discipline before he snaps?”

Elain folded her arms across her chest. “So what? I’m supposed to live like a nun because I have a mate I don’t want?” Azriel squeezed her shoulder gently.

Rhys ran his hand across his face, his frustration palpable. “He caught you. He winnowed through my wards. All of them. He could’ve just as easily gone for Azriel, which would have been a problem the size of the Moon. Especially if Azriel killed him.”

Elain flinched, looking between the two brothers. She hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “But I’m not obliged to be with him, am I?” Her will was cast in iron. No meandering dreams and ridiculous future possibilities would change her mind.

“He has no claim‒” Azriel started, to protect her from Rhysand’s wrath.

“You, Azriel, should know better,” the High Lord growled, slivers of darkness pouring from him. “He has no claim, as I had no claim, if you need to refresh your memory. Remember what I was like? Does he not deserve at least some decency?”

“I didn’t realize you were so interested in protecting his feelings,” Azriel answered sharply, his hand not leaving Elain’s shoulder.

“I truly don’t care what happens to Lucien Vanserra one way or another,” the High Lord waved a dismissive hand. “He is Feyre’s friend, so she does, which means I shall too. And, if your lust-filled thoughts would subside, you might remember that the male you keep poking and poking incessantly is connected to Autumn, Spring, and well-liked by the people of Dawn, to name a few. Even if his intentions would never be to harm the Night Court, you know Beron would use his son’s mistreatment to advance, to do something brash, to rope in Tamlin, and on top of our problems with Koschei and the human queens, this is the last thing I need to deal with.”

Elain listened carefully, her face sharpening into cold rage. “So… I’m a pawn in your game?”

Rhysand looked at her and for the first time, Elain saw that simmering rage that made Rhysand famous for being the strongest High Lord in existence. “I do not wish to use my mate’s family as pawns. But you’re here, you live here and I expect you to not cause problems.” She opened her mouth to protest but Rhys raised his hand to keep her quiet. “You don’t owe Lucien anything. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t owe me to string him along. But it would be decent and safe to at least reject the male. In that case, even if he loses his wits and tries anything, Azriel, and even I, would be justified to protect you. No one just claims a female in the Night Court.”

Elain pressed her lips into a thin line, frowning at Rhys. “So, what? I just tell him to leave me alone?”

“Do whatever you want, but at least not when he’s right here.” His gaze shifted towards Azriel. “He winnowed out of here. Straight out of here. I wouldn’t have known had I not heard it as I was leaving the office.”

“Do you think him a threat?” Azriel’s voice was cold and deadly, ready to strike at any moment.

“Truthfully, no. I don’t. But you can’t keep doing this until he truly snaps. I don’t want his blood on my hands.”

*

A few weeks had passed before Lucien requested a meeting with Rhysand. He didn’t go to the River House, he didn’t even really want to step foot into Velaris, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Rhysand invited him to the townhouse that had used to be his home before his family outgrew it.

“I don’t want to report to the shadowsinger,” Lucien muttered, extending his legs as he sank into the armchair Rhsyand had offered him. “Can that be arranged? I can talk to his spies, or deliver news to someone else, write letters, or‒”

“You don’t have to report to him.” Rhysand interrupted his ramblings, his voice not unkind. “I know this is unfortunate enough. You can reach out to me directly and report that way.”

“I’d prefer not to go to the house either. This seems alright. Or I have an apartment in the city as well, for now,” Lucien hummed, pursing his lips. He didn’t know if there’d be a reason to continue paying for that place. He never stayed there. And now he probably never would.

“It can be arranged. If the bond is chafing you, it’s for the best.”

“It’s not chafing me,” Lucien snapped before he could bottle up his rage. His fingers sank into the armrests of the armchair, digging into the leather. “I just don’t wish to be exposed to all of this. It’s shit enough as it is.”

Rhys merely nodded, furrowing his brows. “I wish it wasn’t this way. But you must understand that I will protect her and her choice.”

“Do you see me interfering?” Lucien bit out impatiently, his one good eye lighting up with that fire that burned in his veins. “I haven’t interfered in anything she’s done, ever. I just wish to protect my own sanity, so I would like to avoid putting myself in situations where the Mother is further testing my ability to just swallow all the shit that is being shoveled down my throat.”

“Understandable. And I don’t want to scold you, Lucien. But my mate’s sister, and my brother, they will be protected. Don’t do anything brash,” Rhys warned.

“Of course.” Lucien didn’t push this conversation further. He stood and winnowed out of the room, his magic flashing white as it cut through the wards of yet another home Rhysand thought to be proofed for his family. You’re definitely Helion’s son, he thought to himself. Would this be his burden to uncover? Would he cause more trouble by letting Helion know? Would he even believe him? Would the Lady of the Autumn Court suffer if her secret was revealed? Rhysand rubbed his temples, lost in thought.

Your stress thoughts are distracting me from my class.

I’m sorry, darling. I’ve had a visitor of the red headed variety, he answered his mate.

Eris or Lucien?

He didn’t bother explaining it, he simply showed the conversation to Feyre. There was no reason to keep anything from her. His mate… she was everything. His heart ached at the thought. Lucien’s good eye had held no emotion, it had seemed as dead as the mechanical golden orb clicking about in his head.

I can’t lie, I’m glad Elain is here, with Azriel, but seeing Lucien like this… he used to be a completely different person, Feyre commented, her mind wrapping around his, as if to make sure that her bond was as strong as ever. Rhysand welcomed the gesture, letting comfort and solace wash over him.

I think I would’ve done something brash by now. It’s been nearly three years. I barely managed three months, he confessed. Just thinking about the time when Feyre had still been betrothed to Tamlin, when he had gotten back to Velaris, the way all the joy had been sucked out of his life, as though he couldn’t breathe. I would’ve definitely done something brash by now.

Well, you are a brash person, aren’t you?

She still hasn’t rejected him. I think he’s avoiding being near her.

Maybe he’s trying to avoid the rejection? Feyre mused, earning a sigh from Rhysand.

All this talk of depressing mate issues is making me miss you much more than usual. Cut that lesson short, or I’ll show up with at home High Lady duties to hand out.

He could hear Feyre’s delicious giggle in his mind. He let it wash over him and fill his chest with happiness, like it always did. No other could elicit such a response. Only her, and Nyx now.

This is one of my High Lady duties, Rhys. You’ll just have to wait your turn.

*

“You look like shit,” Tamlin commented, in his fae form now more often than not. The Spring Court still hasn’t regained its beauty, the land was barren, the magic weakened by remnants of Amarantha’s blight, and the High Lord’s mental state seemed to affect it as well. He was in ruin, and so was his court.

“If you’re one to talk, then I must truly look like shit. I mean, you were covered in fur an hour ago,” Lucien shot back weakly, his voice missing that teasing edge it had once had.

“It’s easier to block the thoughts out that way. Maybe I should turn you into an actual fox for the day, so you can run around and wrangle some rabbits to soothe the rage,” Tamlin suggested with a smile. It was strange to hear it, to be comforted by him, sort of.

“I’ll pass. I don’t have much rage to work out,” he answered simply. Rage would have been easier. More manageable. Tamlin merely nodded, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’ve started clearing out the briars. I don’t want the servants to do it. I want to be perceived as at least a somewhat manageable High Lord to them before I reach out to try to rebuild this court…”

“You need help then?” Lucien asked silently.

“I didn’t say that to trick you into helping me,” Tamlin muttered his answer. “You can report to the Night Court that I’m… improving, I guess, but I don’t wish to‒”

“I want to do something to keep my mind busy. Cutting overgrown thorns seems like it needs a lot of attention, it’ll take a fair amount of time too,” Lucien said, cutting off Tamlin’s rambling.

“If that’s what you want, I could use a hand,” Tamlin nodded, getting to his feet in a swift motion.

Within an hour, Lucien had taken off his emerald jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and started working on cutting off the overgrown briars that dug into the manor’s walls, almost as though they were squeezing the life out of it. It was laborious work, the rose bushes grew into thick branches covered in thorns. They dug into his skin whenever he wasn’t paying enough attention, they required considerable force to cut them off, even with the help of various tools. And the manor… it was all but destroyed under the thick bramble. The entire scene was a metaphor laid on so thick, Lucien wanted to roll his eyes every now and then. The manor in ruin, just like the High Lord who lived in it, the thorns digging into the walls, just like Tamlin’s pain, the neverending briar surrounding the home, the way his old friend’s heart had been engulfed in rage directed at himself as punishment, and at others to keep them away. Lucien wasn’t certain if Tamlin perceived all of that. He seemed lost in thought, pulling the thick branches off the manor’s walls with the incredible physical power the land had gifted him long ago.

“It’s funny,” the High Lord began after some minutes spent in sort of comfortable silence, “the way we both landed in a similar situation with an Archeron girl.”

“It’s not quite the same, is it?” Lucien challenged, annoyance washing over him. “You treated Feyre like shit, Tam.”

“I know I did. And I know you didn’t treat your mate that way, and I know my shortsightedness played a role in your situation now.” Tamlin’s eyes were fixed on the manor’s wall as he spoke. “Other than what I’ve done to Feyre, the thing I regret the most is the way I treated you, especially after we escaped Under the Mountain.” No response came from Lucien, so Tamlin continued. “I am sorry, Lucien. Maybe you don’t wish to come back here, and I respect your decision. But you’re welcome in this court, even if it is in shambles. You’re welcome here.”

“Thanks,” Lucien croaked out after a few moments of silence. He wouldn’t come back, not to live here, not to end up back under his thumb when things would inevitably start looking up. But he wouldn’t make an enemy of Tamlin. He would heal these wounds as he did with others. If not heal them, at least cauterize them so the pain could finally stop.

A few hours of work, efficient but exhausting, and the manor was at least recognizable as the estate it once had been. Evening was upon them by the time they dug the house out from under all that bramble. Tamlin huffed out a chuckle, throwing the last of the branches into the large pile they had been creating over these few hours. “Do me the honors and burn them, please,” he asked and Lucien obliged. His hand filled with the familiar lick of fire, hot but never burning, and he sculpted it into a ball that he dropped atop the briars, igniting them instantly.

“Get your fiddle, maybe the light and the music will attract some of your court,” Lucien suggested. It would be good for optics to see the High Lord celebrate. Tamlin, surprisingly, obliged. Lucien brought up a barrel of wine from the cellar, just in time for his old friend to start playing an oh-so-familiar tune of the Spring Court. Soon, members of the court came by, sentries, curious wraiths and faeries, even some high fae from the nearest settlement. Someone was roasting meat over the large fire, females were singing the song Tamlin was playing, and, Lucien observed with some pride, maybe his people would start believing in the High Lord of Spring again.

He would remember this day as a sunny one, gleaming dimply in the eternal darkness his mind had trapped him in.

*

Her skin was the most beautiful shade of rich brown, tanned in the gentle autumn sun. Sprawled out on the blanket below him, he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, how long her eyelashes were, brushing against her plump cheeks with such grace. She smelled like freshly cut grass, wild rivers, the chilly air on a cold morning. He had never been so in love before. She had to be his mate, the bond would snap any day now. He would marry her, he would leave his title, his father, his home, everything for her. Two russet eyes met two of dark ebony, he ran his fingers down her cheek gently as he whispered “I love you” for the thousandth time to her. To make sure she knew. She would shudder, wrap her arms around his body with a giggle, tease him about being sappy before whispering the words back to him. And then her body would be under his, like clockwork. Covered in blood, lifeless, the radiant rich skin turning grey, those dark eyes flecked with gold never opening again. Her blood was all over him, her neck… cut so brutally, the life snuffed out of her with such force.

That’s usually when he woke up. Sometimes he woke up screaming. That hadn’t happened in a long time, not that he had noticed anyway. Tamlin certainly had noticed, long ago. Since then, the dreams only came infrequently, usually after a particularly hard day. Jesminda. She hadn’t even been his mate… if he had just left her alone, she could’ve found her own mate, she could’ve lived a long and happy life. She could’ve been happy forever, without him and his ridiculous family troubles that he couldn’t really even understand sometimes. Why was he the one singled out, he couldn’t tell. He never even wanted to be High Lord.

The dreams returned in frequency now. Sometimes Jesminda’s face morphed into Elain’s. She would look at him lovingly, she’d whisper that she loved him and then the cauldron would swallow her. The blood, Jesminda’s blood, would mix with that dark water. Sometimes both of them would be murdered by his father. Sometimes the bond would break.

He took up a habit of only sleeping when he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore and a dreamless, restless sort of slumber claimed him for an hour or two.

*

The autumn months passed without incident. He stayed away, met Rhys at pre-arranged locations. Sometimes the High Lord winnowed to see him in the human lands. They didn’t talk about Elain. The last time he had stepped foot into Velaris, Feyre had invited him to solstice.  

“You can come earlier. Or the day after. I wish to see you, Lucien. You’re my friend,” she had pleaded. He had agreed.

And there he was again, two boxes in hand. Feyre smiled widely and hugged him, inviting him in.

“How are you?” she asked gently, surveying him with those bright blue eyes.

“I’m well,” Lucien answered his typical answer. Feyre narrowed her eyes. “Happy early birthday,” he smiled smoothly, handing one of the neatly wrapped boxes to her. “It isn’t much, but I thought it to be fitting for a HighLady, and her baby, heir to a court.”

Feyre unwrapped her present with endearing excitement, examining the leather-bound tome carefully. The golden lettering on the almost comically large book read A History of Prythian and Its Seven Courts.

“It is a revised edition,” Lucien hummed, gesturing for Feyre to open the tome. He tapped over the very last chapter of the Contents. Feyre Cursebreaker: The Liberation of the Seven Courts. “It has some nice art of you.”

Feyre opened the tome to the last chapter with delight, blushing lightly. “Oh, Lucien, this is beautiful… I didn’t even know something like it existed.”

“The Day Court is filled with scholars and scribes who keep our histories. Most courts have their own, but Day is known for compiling these large anthologies and things. I thought you would appreciate it, and… an heir to a court should know of all these things, so I brought Nyx some homework,” he explained with a small smile.

“Oh, he’ll be delighted, I’m certain,” Feyre smiled fondly, flipping through the book carefully. “Thank you, this is very thoughtful of you. It’s beautiful. Have you been to Day?”

“Yes, I visited Solaris a month ago. I was trying to look into Vassa’s curse, but I haven’t come up with much.”

“Did you ask Helion?” Feyre asked softly.

“He gave me access to the libraries and a scholar to help, but she hasn’t come up with much. We’ve been going through ancient spell books and any information about monsters, the prison, old gods…” Lucien ran his fingers through his hair, heaving a sigh. “There’s a lot of useless information to swim through to find a mention of Koschei’s name at all. I’m fortunate enough to take some of the books home.”

“That’s really nice of Helion,” Feyre murmured softly, her eyes glinting.

They fell into easy conversation for a while. It worked. They had managed to heal their friendship over the last few months, even though the odds had been stacked against them. He stayed away from the topic of mates as much as he could, but Feyre let Elain’s name slip in conversation accidentally. There wasn’t a universe where he could simply ignore it.

“How is she?” He asked silently, the dull ache settling into his chest.

“She’s doing well, I think, she’s much better than after the Cauldron,” Feyre answered, avoiding any details. But Lucien needed to know.

“She’s seeing the spymaster, right?”

“Lucien…” Her tone wasn’t unkind, but it held an edge of warning anyway.

“I won’t do anything. I just want to know. I can feel it through the bond anyway…”

“Then why do you need confirmation?” Feyre questioned quietly, looking into his eyes, as if to search for the answers there. “Why hurt yourself further?”

“Ignorance isn’t bliss when she sends these bursts down the bond every now and then, and I know she’s having a good time,” Lucien shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. “I know I don’t deserve much, her time, her love, her… anything. I deserved to at least be told. I thought I did.”

“You weren’t together, you weren’t even speaking…”

“Because she wished to have nothing to do with me, not because I didn’t want to,” Lucien snapped and blew out a breath to steady his mood.

“I know… I told her to handle it at least,” Feyre mumbled silently, her eyes cast towards the ground. “You did deserve that much. To be told at least.” Lucien merely shrugged, his fingers tapping over the box he had brought his mate.

“I got her this. I’ll stop doing this for next year. It feels pathetic, and I don’t want to be the creepy male who can’t take a hint. I guess she can consider this a farewell present, if she opened it.”

“What is it?” Feyre asked, leaning closer to Lucien to look at the box.

“I’ve collected packets of seeds from a few different courts I visited throughout the year. They’re flowers from the human lands, from Spring, from Autumn, even Day. Maybe she’d like them.”

Emotion flashed across Feyre’s usually composed features before she smoothed them into an easy smile. “That’s a brilliant idea, Lucien. I’m sure she will enjoy them.” He merely nodded again, letting the conversation move back towards easier territories.

He was just about to leave, after a few hours spent with his friend, he had put his jacket on and was headed out of the house when he smelled her scent.

“Lucien.”

It was her voice, coming from the garden. She was there. He had left the present with Feyre to give it to her in his name. His heart began hammering in his chest as he turned, spotting her easily. He needed no further indication, his nose, his eye, his heart, who knows exactly what, led him to her immediately. “Lady,” he murmured silently and bowed his head.

“We need to talk. I’ve heard you were here…” Her eyes only shifted towards him for a second before she averted them back towards her lap.

“What do we need to talk about, Lady?” Lucien asked, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. This was it. She would formally reject him. He knew it was coming. No one ever said anything positive after ‘we need to talk’. He schooled his features into a neutral expression, approaching the bench she was occupying. His anxiety was a thunderstorm, a hurricane of flames, a cyclone of misery approaching his space, the tiny fortress in his mind. He had no chance.

“Would you like to sit?” Elain asked quietly, still barely meeting his eyes. He weighed his options.

“Just get it over with,” he managed after a moment of deliberation.

“What?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“I don’t think I can handle niceties. Just lay it on me,” he muttered, his tone dropping dangerously low. His scent lingered somewhere near. He was watching from somewhere to make sure Lucien didn’t do anything brash. It only filled his heart with rage. It barely fit next to all the emotions he had already been trying to keep at bay.

“Well… I thought you should know that I’m seeing someone, and…” She was considering her words carefully, wringing her hands nervously in her lap. Lucien braced himself. “I want to reject you, formally. Is there anything I need to do or is that it?”

“That’ll do,” Lucien muttered. His grip on his self-control was slipping. Elain sucked in a deep breath, as if she too was bracing herself. “Enjoy your life then. The bond can only be broken by death, but it’ll weaken now, so maybe I won’t see so many of your dreams.” He couldn’t help himself, his feet were about to give out under him.

“Well, I don’t wish to see yours either,” Elain snapped, her tone sharper than before. A shadow curled under the bench she was occupying. Lucien couldn’t stay any longer.

“You have never given me a chance. I  know I am not entitled to one. Maybe you know better, you did get dealt a pretty weak match compared to your sisters. Happy Solstice.”

He was gone after that, he didn’t wait for a response. He winnowed with remarkable speed.

Elain’s lips trembled as she pressed her hands against her chest. The pain was suffocating. The guilt, the shame, the yearning for love ‒ it was about to crack her heart in two, and then it suddenly stopped. It took her a moment to figure it out. Those were Lucien’s emotions pushing through on that bridge between their souls, creeping over to her side until he had likely clamped down on them. Her chest heaved from the sheer force of those feelings.

“Are you all right?” Azriel stepped out of the shadows at that moment, sitting down next to her. His gloved hands were holding hers already, no sign of his shadows as he pulled her close to his chest. “Did he aggravate you?”

She shook her head, the ache still dull in her chest. “No, no… I’m glad to be done with it,” she smiled instead, lacing their fingers together. Azriel was her safety ‒ he was compassionate, he was kind to her, and protective of her. He reminded her of Graysen, his good qualities anyway. He looked the least male too. His features were elegantly and devastatingly beautiful, his ears were not pointed, apart from his wings, he looked almost like a human man. There was no long red hair, no scars, no enchanted eyes. She could find comfort in that, and passion and love too, eventually.

*

The first week was pure and unbridled self-pity. It was pathetic. He just stayed mostly in his room, ignoring the humans like a petulant child. He pulled himself together by day six. There was no justification to ignore Vassa’s plight, to act like such a huge thing had occurred. Realistically, nothing changed. His last bit of hope was squashed. The pain felt like his heart was put into a vice, an ever-crushing vice with no way to stop that tension. That is why some males had gone mad, he mused as he pulled his hair into a careless braid. It made too much sense now.

Jurian greeted him with the indifference he appreciated and expected. He didn’t need to be pitied. The man had a short temper and a tortured soul, his tongue was his sharpest weapon, but that same man had a gentle nature and great perception of others’ feelings. He didn’t push him, he simply offered him breakfast and talked about his plan to rebuild administrative buildings in the nearby village. Lucien was happy to listen.

He continued his day doing the routine things he needed to get done, just so the minutes would pass. In the evening Vassa turned back to normal and tried to cheer him up with gestures of care and gentle questions. He smiled dutifully and answered in reassuring sentences. From the way those blue eyes were staring daggers into him, he knew he was not fooling anyone.

He was about to retreat back into his room when a familiar scent hit him. His body went utterly still, to the point where his human companions noticed, looking at him in alarm.

“My brother is here,” he muttered, getting up to his feet. He opened the door right as Eris stepped in front of it.

“Little brother, the runt of the litter” he greeted with that smug smile that never seemed to falter off his face. Just what he needed at this very moment, for Eris to ruin his godsdamned day…

“What do you want?” Lucien bit out as Eris slipped into the manor, uninvited. Lucien wasn’t sure whether his blood chilled or heated up, but he did not have the patience for this bastard.

“What. Do. You. Want.” His patience was running thin as it was, he didn’t need his asshole brother to goad him.

“I want you to help me kill my father,” Eris muttered, his voice dropping dangerously low. Lucien gaped at him.

“‘Are you out of your mind?”

“No. No one will eliminate him, if I don’t,” Eris shot back, sitting down at the worn kitchen table. His russet eyes were aflame with simmering rage. “He’s colluding with the human queens, he plans to move on Tamlin’s territory, he wants to either take it over or pull that brainless bastard into a fight against the other courts. A fight he can’t win, mind you. He’s going to destroy Autumn.”

“And your only plan is to‒” Lucien couldn’t finish his sentence as Eris snarled, drumming his thin white fingers on the table.

“Yes. And I will become High Lord and whip that place into shape.”

“So, that’s it then? You want to become High Lord so bad, you would kill our father and rope me and presumably our brothers into it too? Or will we kill them too?” Lucien challenged. “What of mother? What if the magic doesn’t choose you? Why don’t you ask the other three?”

“Don’t mistake the end of my patience for frivolous bloodlust, little brother,” Eris answered, leaning closer to him. “The magic will choose me, there is no one else to choose. I wield the strongest power of the four of us. Mother will finally be freed from years of torment. And you? You’re not Beron’s son.”

Lucien stared at his brother for a while. All of his thoughts were running away from him, he couldn’t grasp any of them in his hands, he couldn’t form a single question. He just stared and stared, his mechanical eye whirring as if it was trying to discern what was told to him.

“How have you not figured it out yet? That’s the biggest mystery, oh so sly fox,” Eris muttered, staring down at the table as though the wood grain held the secrets to all of his problems. Lucien couldn’t even fire back a response. His jaw went slack as he blinked at his older brother.

“You have been winnowing in and out of every place effortlessly for the last few months, wards be damned. You broke through Rhysand’s wards like they were nothing. When in Spring Court, you just slipped through Tamlin’s simple wards without any effort. Rhysand’s wards weren’t like that and yet you still did it. Did you ever think how?”

“I-“ What was he supposed to say? He had always done that. He could detect wards, track spells, he even had some healing magic.

“What, little brother? You just thought you learned it? I certainly can’t do any of it,” Eris muttered, a vicious smirk spreading across his face. “You’re the only one. The only one born from love. Why do you think I’ve protected you all these godsdamned years?”

“What are you talking about?!” Lucien stared daggers into his brother. “How do you even know… any of this?!”

“I guess it is time I let someone know.” Eris straightened as he watched his brother, his fingers still drumming on the table. “That shadowsinger can take claim of the dark corners, but the fire whispers to me, and there’s a hearth in most houses, there’s a bonfire on the beaches, there are fires in kitchens, and outdoors, where you cook your freshly caught game. And there’s fire wherever father is, but that fire whispers to me.”

“What?” Lucien muttered as he watched his oldest brother whose eyes were filled with quiet rage. “So… all this time, you just spied on everyone?”

“I didn’t need to. The fire started whispering secrets to me when I was but a fledgling, but I kept it to myself. The Vanserras, our ancestry can be traced back to Hestia herself, she who first breathed fire into a hearth. We’re descendants of the old gods, but their gifts are not common to inherit anymore.” He ran his fingers through his fire-read hair, cut shorter than Lucien’s. “I knew about you before mother did. And before you ask, no. Beron is not given the same gift, or curse, depending on how you look at it.”

“Why do you call it a curse?” Lucien stared at his brother, barely able to wrap his mind around everything he was bombarding him with.

“I can easily get information about everything, about the scum my father is, about what plans Rhysand has to string me along, anything. Not all of it is complete, fire doesn’t reach everywhere. But sometimes knowledge is a curse.” He cocked an eyebrow as he asked, “Aren’t you curious about who your father is, little brother?”

“Uh… yes. I think‒”

“You’re the only one born out of love, of all of us,” Eris cut him off, his fingers drumming incessantly on the table. “The only one. And that’s why I protected you. You’re mother’s child with Helion. Which makes you the sole heir to the Day Court. That’s why you’re cleaving spells left and right, Lucien. That’s why you have healing powers. That’s why you look a lot like Helion. I can’t believe people haven’t put this together yet.”

Lucien gaped, a small chuckle escaped his lips, then an incredulous sigh. “You can’t be serious. This is not funny. My power is fire, just like yours. It’s not singing me bedtime stories but it’s certainly not cleaving spells and controlling light or wind or whatever it is Helion can do.”

“This is no joke.”

“Oh, really?” Lucien snapped, anger bubbling in his chest. “And how come you’re the only one who knows?”

“Don’t you think Beron suspects it, idiot?” Eris shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He tried to murder you multiple times, he tried to get me and our brothers to murder you, he made sure we viewed you as the enemy, he tortured you wherever he could, he pushed you out of his court before your parentage could be revealed. Those were no mere accidents.”

“Or… he was a fucking asshole, like to all of you.”

Eris rolled his eyes, leaning over the table. “Mother named you Lucien. L-U-C-I-E-N. She was never sure, but she suspected it, and she marked you with that name. Helion, the wielder of the power of the sun, fathered a child who is going to be the sun, light and fire. Mother cried tears of relief when she saw that your hair was as red as hers.”

“She knows?” Lucien’s lips pressed into a thin line. His whole world was turning upside down and he had no handle to hold on to.

“Suspected it. She had a centuries-long affair with Helion.”

“This is insane,” Lucien muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Why is it always me? Why do I get to have these life-altering revelations out of the blue?”

Eris snorted before his expression turned deadly serious. “Be glad you’re not born of that monster. Helion is a good male. And he’s not manipulating his kin to be soldiers against one another in an endless blood duel for power.”

“I can’t‒ I can’t picture him‒”

“As your father? Well, you’ll have time to figure it out,” Eris hummed, raising his fingers elegantly. His ring glinted in the dim light of the fire as he put a ward around himself. “Break it.”

“What?” Lucien countered dumbly, his thoughts escaping like startled rabbits.

“Cut through my ward, Lucien Spellcleaver.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lucien muttered with a frown. But the challenge got his attention. Was he truly able to do it? Did he truly have that power? He blinked and extended his hand towards the edge of the ward. His eye revealed the intricate details, the way the magic weaved into a wall like a basket, forming a solid shield around Eris. It was easy to undo it. His fingers worked quickly as he sliced through a few strands of the magic, and suddenly the entire ward disappeared.

“Should I call you Prince Lucien then? You’re a Prince in the Day Court. The only prince, if my sources are not mistaken.”

“Don’t‒” Lucien took an exasperated breath. “Don’t claim anything like that. I don’t have a great track record of being wanted or accepted by those whose lives I’m supposed to be a part of. Maybe Helion will want to murder me because I threaten his reign.”

“Helion knows you might be his son after your run-in with him during Nesta’s mating thing,” Eris shrugged easily, studying Lucien’s features. “You have mother’s hair color and eye color, but your face is the spitting image of him. It’s ridiculous.”

“I know I should be happy, but he did some things and I wasn’t even his son…” He could have had a normal childhood in the Day Court, he could have been free of all that torment. He could have never met Jesminda, or he may have met her and she wouldn’t have been killed by a maniac… so many people knew the truth, no one bothered to tell him.

“Don’t go into a doom chamber, Lucien. We couldn’t tell you, we weren’t even sure, your powers were never honed or taught to you, it took you a long time to even show a sign of it.”

Lucien sighed, rubbing his temples. “When Elain was taken to the cauldron, that’s… that’s the first time I used those powers. I didn’t notice. Tamlin asked about it later, he asked how I freed myself. I didn’t even realize I did it.”

“You’ll have time to freak out on your own terms about your mate and your new dad and all that. Now, you need to help me eliminate mine,” Eris muttered, a dark grin tugging at his lips. “And if you do, I’ll help you figure out your human queen’s deal with Koschei. I can help you sniff out his weakness, and you can break that magic. First things first, you need to develop a mental shield. Rhysand and Feyre will not know of my gift.”

For the HMS shipping thing I think it’s just general consensus due to CJs not outright said weither or not he’s against it or fine w it? and also the fact that it can kindaaaa lean on seeming incesty from a glance? even if you DO take into consideration it’s chill from a system aspect you have to think about the fact the characters were not initially written to be a system and aren’t entirely separate people from each other, like it’s clear they are still connected to each other/whole in some fashion, and idk I think it’s just a “don’t want to risk it” type of thing, plus I just think personally that exploring the characters in a platonic way is more interesting writing wise to dig into their characterizations, ig it just bugs me when all people can get out of a series is ways to ship the characters, nothing against you ofc! You were just curious! BUT I just think the CCCC fandom is like refreshing in that sense you know? Gives more of a chance to explore writing analysis and character dynamics etc :3!

idk if I’m making sense lol I just always try to make sure to be weary of any accidental sus adjacent stuff, and it gets tricky with series like this where it’s kindof a weird gray area?? AND I’m on the ace spectrum so I’m just not the kind of person to ship characters in general/I just don’t see the appeal like others do, TLDR like I said: I think it’s mostly just to play it safe/no one really sees a point in it anyway shrugs /nm (sorry this got long I just had thoughts I wanted to ramble about)

I'm a hopeless romantic so I love shipping, but I TOTALLY get what you mean with the shipping being too much sometimes. Sometimes it's WAYYY more fun and interesting to explore character relationships in a platonic light rather than romantic, especially since fandoms and media focus on shipping and romance a little too much sometimes. I do think it would be interesting exploring some relationships in CCCC in a romantic light, but I still greatly enjoy seeing them interact platonically.

I also thought it might be a "selfcest = incest" thing, since I've seen that crop up in other fandoms with character who isn't explicitly a system but is multiple people. But I don't really get that tbh? When I was younger, selfcest was RAMPANT in some fandoms, ironically or not. (I remember it in homestuck specifically in a jokey sorta way, but it was taken seriously in Undertale AU crossovers for example where everyone shipped Sans with himself. And I have to mention the one we're all thinking off: Onecest.)

I've mentioned this before in my last two posts about this but, again, I think it'd be fine? I don't know Chonny and I am not him so I have no idea his actual feelings on it, but from the QnA it seems they're characters more than they are him. With him allowing headcanoned identities, kinning, introjects (I'm not a system so I don't know if it can be controlled, but he said he was fine with them is the point I'm making), and all that, I assume shipping is fair game as well. Again, though, I'm not Chonny and I don't know Chonny, so I have no way of knowing his actual feelings.

Never feel bad about rambling in my inbox, by the way. I always enjoy hearing about stuff people like, ESPECIALLY if it's something I also like. Thanks for your input! :D

Plotting out loud, because I can. astolat/GoT fanfic edition.

So I’m going to do some plotting here, because if I can’t build a sequel plot to an AO3 fanfic on Tumblr, where else am I going to build it? My head? I’ll never finish it that way!

Right so, Winter’s Crown by Astolat, which is fanfiction of Game of Thrones. This thing consumed me for the 4 or 5 days it was being released. It’s a damn good thing Astolat posted two chapters a day because I was refreshing my email waiting for those chapter notifications two or three times an hour and then injecting several thousand words into my veins the second that notification hit.

Just as a programming note. I’ve read the first third of the first book in Game of Thrones. Most of my knowledge of the series has been absorbed by osmosis from my partner and general pop culture saturation. Moving on.

I loved Winter’s Crown.

I also took one look at the ending and said “well, they’re going to be in a civil war within the year.”

Again, to be clear, the ending was perfect for the story. I’m just also sure that if the story continued we’d be into a war for the Iron Throne, like the main series is actually about.

Here be spoilers for Winter’s Crown.

So, our set-up for the sequel is that Robb is still the King in the North, with all the magical power that crown from the Children of the Forest invested in him. He’s promised/engaged to Shireen, Stannis’s daughter and only heir. You know, the niece of Robert Baratheon, the King of the South/Seven Kingdom (except whoops Robb declared the North independent, so I guess it’s Six Kingdoms now?). Robb is also currently fucking Jamie Lannister. Jamie Lannister who was Robert’s Hand before uh... declaring? taking service? with Robb. (There was magic involved.) Who also probably didn’t actually explicitly break up with Cersei before following Robb out of the throne room on Robb’s orders after the declaration of independence. 

ALSO, Stannis has already said to Robb that he intends to declare Robert an oathbreaker as the Protector of the Realm. Which from a strict reading of the situation, Robert WAS. Which Robb has already lain on Robert with the force of magic behind it. Here, I’ll quote: “I name you false kind and false friend, oathbreaker and coward, and may you end your days in the shame and misery your treachery deserves.” Which, as far as I can tell the only witnesses who aren’t Robb’s people are Robert, Cersei, the children, Margaery Tyrell, and a small handful of goldcloaks/Kingsguards. So, I doubt that bit of information is getting publicized by anyone in that room. Which Stannis was not.

Basically, I see war coming from two fronts. One, Stannis declaring Robert an Oathbreaker, which is politically tricky because either Stannis has taken himself out of Robb’s service and is making a play to be the king himself? OR he’s calling Robert an Oathbreaker as one of Robb’s sworn liege lords. Which, yikes. Plays right into the narrative that Cersei has built up for herself: that Robb wants power and will march on the South with the Wildlings and/or Stannis’s men at arms and/or the Lannister men (answering to Jamie).

I think if Cersei left the North alone after the Long Night and Stannis was very clear he was not one of Robb’s lords, Robb and the North would be happy to sit out a war and just work on recovering from the Long Night. Because, again, yikes, about half the population that survived the initial rise of the dead froze to death. The North is not in any shape to be going to war.

But I don’t think Cersei can put herself in someone else’s (Robb’s) shoes and believe they won’t act like a politically duplicitous cunt after power and only power. So she’s going to want to go to war to strike first and protect her own power. And also to pay back the “betrayal” of her brother/lover (Jamie) abandoning her. Also Stannis’s betrayal of swearing to the King in the North. But I think she’ll care about Jamie’s more.

And I think Robert isn’t strong enough, morally, emotionally, etc. to stop her. 

So... I tend to think that Stannis at least wouldn’t kick off a war until he could secure his supply lines. Supply lines which after the Long Night freezing a significant portion of the country would be in terrible shape. Especially since the largest supply of excess grain is the Tyrell’s and Cersei has that on her side since Margaery Tyrell is married to Joffrey. 

End result is that I think Cersei will kick off the war and Stannis will lay the charge of Oathbreaking as a response. To you know, weaken/divide her forces as much as he can.

What Cersei may not have is a competent General. Robb, Jamie, Stannis, and Tyrion are on the side of the North (whether or not Jamie and Tyrion can stomach fighting their sister and niblings/children, those two at least aren’t on Cersei’s side). Tywin is MIA from Winter’s Crown except as a brief aside in the past tense and may or may not be dead in this iteration of the world. The best General we can reasonably project to be on Cersei’s side is her Uncle Kevan. Who did see the dead with his own eyes, so that might change his thinking on if the charges of Oathbreaking are true and who that means he should fight for.

Meanwhile, Robb/the North has six direwolves, at least 3 giants, Brienne of fucking Tarth, Jon Snow, Jamie Lancaster, Tyrion Lancaster, AND, most importantly, every single hero and every foot soldier of the Long Night who survived who’s willing to be called to arms again (they’d probably all like to just go home and recover, but damn, if their king is calling, these are the people proven to show up when called). A significant portion of that army are Wildlings who are now released from their oaths and will most likely head back home over the Wall. But! There will also likely be a significant number who stay (*cough* Tormaund making eyes at Brienne) and can function well as a scouting force. 

So the North has an army that trained and trauma bonded through the Long Night together. Morale/belief in each other and their leaders is going to be high. The Boltons are all dead due to events in Winter’s Crown and the Freys are possibly all to mostly dead, so Robb is not going to be stabbed in the back by traitorous liege lords this go around (no Red Wedding here!). What the North doesn’t have is food. 

So, what they need is to get the intelligence of Cersei attacking quickly and to haul ass South where they can pillage food.

As a side note, I am assuming that Danerys does NOT show up with dragons at any point to turn this into a three-way fight. She is not mentioned at all in Winter’s Crown, not even the aside Twyin got, so I’m working off the assumption she’s dead or busy on her side of the sea and will not be appearing in a relevant time frame to this completely hypothetical sequel fanfiction of fanfiction.

So, questions I would need to answer, for myself, before writing: 1) What does Varys choose to do? In GoT, he is canonically more loyal to the realm and thus the people living in it than whoever is on the throne. We know he’s still the Master of Whispers in the Winter’s Crown iteration of the world and was able to slip a number of spies/potential assassins into Robb’s camp. Assassins who were routinely thwarted by Brienne and Tyrion, but all it takes is once. And people might be more willing without the magical terror of the oncoming Long Night/Night’s King. Robb still has the magic invested in crown however, so maybe not. Essentially, I think Varys would be a strong asset for Cersei if she utilizes him (she didn’t earlier because he was telling her information that didn’t fit her world view). And therefore what he choses to do would be important. Tyrion at least knows Varys is the spymaster and to work to counter him.

2) Is Joffrey enough of a cruel bastard to still get offed?

3) Does the accurate parentage of the royal children come out?

Well, this is a lot of thinking about the state of the board at the beginning and not much thinking about ‘plot’ isn’t it? Maybe thinking about a theme would help me out here.

The theme(s) in Winter’s Crown is(are) oaths, the costs of them, being a ‘worthy’ person, and when to adhere to an oath. So I would want this hypothetical sequel’s theme(s) to flow naturally from that. Meaning... the consequences of adhering to your oaths when your opponent doesn’t. Good job brain, the theme is the Prisoner’s Dilemma and what shame and misery is the natural consequence of treachery. 

Okay, cool, now I have the overall arc of my plot: a sudden swift victory on Cersei’s side (she seizes the first mover advantage) followed by the slow build to victory of Robb’s side. I picture this slow build to be Robb focusing on the smaller battles and alliances that builds a solid alliance to suddenly at the end sweep Cersei off the board. I’d focus on getting smaller lords on their side and peeling away minor but consequential logistical goods from Cersei’s side (armies march on good boots kind of thing) while Robb keeps his army out of direct confrontation with Cersei’s, nibbling away at their numbers in hit-and-run tactics, or swaying the men to withdraw their oaths to their lords and take up service with Robb, or just picking the terrain a battle happens in very carefully.

Too bad I don’t trust my writing chops to write a drawn out war story complete with military campaigns yet... Ah well, into the ideas pile it goes.

#07 Rest the Dog Days

And the Weeping Stars

“All this, whilst Dog Days ends, and Dog Days song bares its tune from dusty speaker sets”

The seventh issue of Cunning Moss Words is focused on the ends of summer days, ghosts of space explorers and shining stars. Learning to live through the heat, the sticky beats of summer end amid the greed and fall of innocent souls.

She met Sirius in the Sky 

In the turn of autumn fall 

As he was readying to set 

After high held summer long 

She greeted him with such joy 

For the world she knew shifted away 

From the cold streets of home 

To the walls of burning metalwork 

She had been so fearful alone 

In the increasing warmth and dark 

Being torn from what she had known

It was all suffering with a breaking heart 

She must have cried and howled

When shot up from the ground 

To meet the sky without a goodbye

And say infinite hello to marble blue light

She had not known when she passed 

But the stars glowed with their smiling 

Hiding their weeping at her floating place

To keep whole in her innocent gaze

She looked around and around 

But nothing was familiar up here 

It was full and empty and so unclear 

No map could guide her spirit here 

So Sirius took pity on this lost little dog

And dug to hold onto the spark of Laika’s soul 

Leaving her body stuck in a loop of time

Vessel waiting for the blaze to strike  

She ran across the dark with dog stars 

In the company of glowing hearts

While her body fell back towards earth 

Slowly falling apart in its arc 

Her form took to the blaze 

As her soul played in space

Bidding the past away 

And greeting ghosts of later days

The sky is full of ghosts, shimmering dying lights even in the blazing day and the dark of midnight rain. White streaks against the night, like the stars are shedding their last tears. The type that can only be seen in glimpses, until they simultaneously brew over into a full on grieving shower. One raindrop to a painful show of a storm, set against the galaxy’s endless growing walls, in the deep depths of old. In their thriving dying ends, they look living and clear from our outer world view. What we don’t note is before we get the chance to properly meet them- death has long reached many of those twinkling stars, and even in death they look breathlessly beautiful in their endings and echoing weep song. Just small reflections that barely meet our eyes, a slowly sinking light. 

Though the sight might render one blind in dark or delight, I wish I could see them, in their best, their mess and their worst dressed night. For here, on the surface below, the clouds are storming on earth and have drawn a curtain from their shiny window view. I hardly see their living light let alone what remains of their dying times, but I imagine it is like cliff jumping in the darkness, pale and shimmering of a moving spirit, missing where they may land in the wide deep ocean. Lost in the movement, just for a moment. Diamonds be in the sky, diamonds be in the water, diamonds be even in the rock below us, jewels to be plucked, locked, hoarded and some painful times lost and refound in healing seconds. So stars glow and stars fall, rocks and light in all, dust and dirt in iron bold meteorites falling to us in their burn or lost in the ice orbiting years of us, when we ourselves, be earth of bones and spirited ghosts. 

So somewhere in the poetics of falling clouded, dipping, dripping sky, the stars continue crying in their floods for tonight. All this, whilst Dog Days ends and Dog Days song bares its tune from dusty speaker sets, dancing with the smoke that lingers from first and the last chance of the month BBQs. This is the revival of dog day people who have been stuck in stationary living and want to break from the sticky hold. The stick of summer motif humidity, with choking breath and wandering strands, the smell of earth-drenched heat and the lack of a refreshing breeze. I am left wondering if living is good enough if stuck to one place of the month, or the season gone, stretched, watching shadow follow sunlight glare till the moonbeams make their way through the window pane. 

So while the street celebrates into the dark, I keep my eye on those moonbeam lights, asking the sky to part on the one night it is most alive in months. Let them be clear enough for me to draw lines of constellation forms, and if not, I may have to part them myself and draw a net from silky spider webs to catch the stars that will fall. Catch them and shut the reviving dog days souls out and stay in my stationary living spot. Return them stars to my own ceiling walls so that the galaxy can be in my window view alone with a company of moths dancing to their flickering glow. 

The thought is lovely, but the starlight is dipping quicker than it should, quicker than the moths who haven’t finished their quick ends and have found better things to dance their deaths to. I caught tears, I caught angels, I caught spirits from heavens that went astray from their place and resting stay. Here, they cry and whine with a painful sound like flies on sticky tape that know they want out. When they fall, that glow goes too, plucked, lost, without the sky they are sunk, just become rock. Not bobbing up from an ocean cliff dive, just sinking, drowning, lost in the sand dust floor. I keep them till the thought of their stationary living hurts my soul, breaking their resting days and temporarily stuck stay. 

As learnt, stars can not be plastered to man made ceiling walls, they must be thrust to the sky like fledgling birds who just need to remember instinctively how to fly. While the dog days people continue to celebrate their living unstuck future days, I return these falling stars from whence they came. They stir alive as quickly as they fell, returning to the cliff edge, jumping far and high, living out their ending days in dimming light that from here shines ever so bright. Waving an echoing goodbye, living in their long lasting sway while it takes years to see that they are happily safe till the next dog days wake. 

© 2023 Cunning Moss Words - Written by Anayis N. Der Hakopian

Mission In Progress

Steve Rogers x daughter!reader

Summary: Steve realizes that his past behavior may have cost him the love of his daughter.

A/n: Hello! This is the second part to my Steve Rogers series! I hope you like it and also I hope y’all get the little references I put in these lol💕

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean Natasha taught you?”

Oh shit.

That was the collective thought between you, Nat, Clint, and Tony. It was well known among the team that Steve didn’t want his daughter learning ANY form of self defense, but those four thought that was ridiculous. She was Captain America's daughter, she definitely would need to fight off an enemy sooner or later.

“well...nat taught me the basics on how to defend myself, she said it would come in handy someday.” You say quietly, picking the thread on your sleeve rather than looking at your father.

“Romanoff, you taught her how to fight?” Steve said, fury bleeding into his eyes. “I made it perfectly clear--”

“Steve, its unreasonable for her not to know how to fight, she's the daughter of one of the worlds greatest defenders. If she doesn’t fight, she’s dead.”, Natasha said bluntly, staring Steve in the face as the other Avengers grew uncomfortable.

“She’s perfectly fine, it’s not like she leaves the Tower anyway.”

“Because if she did, you’d have someone follow her. It’s creepy, man”  Tony butts in with a roll of his eyes. By now both Bruce and Thor had silently left the room, as both of them would be useless in this conversation.

“Oh, so Tony Stark is gonna teach me how to raise a kid? Isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s not like you’re doing any better on your own. All Y/n does is stay in her room and write in that book of hers, she doesn’t even talk to people her own age.”

“It’s safer that way and you all know it” Steve snaps, refusing to even look your way. “ I set those rules for a reason, and I don’t appreciate my team mate or friends going behind my back and breaking them.”

“Look, Steve we love you, but the way you’re going about this whole parenting situation is completely wrong.” Clint finally says. “ I get that you were thrusted into this role, we all do. But man, you can protect Y/n from everything and it’s not healthy for her to be locked away in the tower like--”

“Like some modern day Rapunzel” 

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You all know the reason why she’s not allowed to leave. Its just safer that way.” Steve says, expecting the conversation to be over. “ Now, we’ll talk about this when we get back to --”

“You don’t lock me away for my protection” You say looking up with a determined face. Steve, obviously stunned you called him out like that turned to you and said

“ Excuse me?” 

“ It was never about me. If you wanted me to be safe, you would have taught me how to defend myself as soon as you could. You would have told the world about me, just to make sure everyone knows not to mess with me.” You say, your brow furrowed. “ You say its for safety, but who’s safety is it really for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says in a low, slow tone. 

“Everytime I come in a room, you tense up like I’m going to attack you.” You start to say, realizing that once you reveal what you noticed, things will never be the same. “ You monitor everything I do. You never allow me to be alone. You don’t talk to be about missions and don’t allow anyone else to.” You stand up off the couch. “ You refuse to acknowledge my mother, and won’t even let read the journal she left me.”

“That’s enough Y/n”

“No!” You shout. “ It’s not fair I don’t understand why you treat me like this.” Steve looks at you in surprise. 

“ Y/n, you don’t understand.”

“ I do. You don’t trust me.” You finally say. “ You haven’t from day one, and I don’t know why. It's not like a six year old is a Hydra agent by disguise.” 

Hearing this Steve freezes. He knows that all this surveillance was unnecessary. And deep down he knew that you could never hurt not even a fly. but that tiny voice in his head got the best of him. And even though he grew to love you more than he’d like to admit, the thought of you being am enemy scared him. 

“ You are a threat.” Steve says stubbornly. “ You came out of nowhere, with nothing but a note in the middle of the night. Your mother is nowhere to be found, and I have no idea who to even look for. You look nothing like me and defiantly don’t act like me.” 

Hearing these words is like a knife being repeatedly stabbed in your heart. It’s one thing to think that your dad doesn’t love you, it's another to hear them directly from his mouth. 

“ I have done nothing for you to treat me like this. I have done nothing to lose your trust. I didn’t ask for my mother to leave me here with you. It’s not my fault.” You say, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “ That robot asked me to go with him you know?”

The whole room freezes. You never mentioned that when Clint picked you up from the Tower.

“ He asked me to go with him, because he said I had no one. I had nothing to loose. And now” You let tears run down your face. “ Now that I know he’s right, I still wouldn’t go with him. Because I would NEVER want someone to get hurt because of me.” And with that you pushed past the group of superheros and ran outside. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to get out of that house.

You walk into town and into a bookshop that was surprisingly open at this hour. The clerk looked at you in annoyance as you wandered the isles quietly. Picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, you walk toward the counter to pay.

“Tch, Romeo and Juliet?” The cashier says

“What about it?” you ask, puzzled that he cared enough to mention it. 

“Nothing if you’re thirteen and never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” You say, eyes lighting up at the chance to talk to someone your own age without the gaze of an agent boring into your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, there was a tense silence in the house. Steve left with the words you told him rattling in his brain. 

“You know, Y/n always used to come to me for help picking out the perfect father's day gift for you.” Clint said breaking the silence in the room. “ She insisted we wake up hours before you to go to the shops just to surprise you. She loved wrapping the gift and the thought of making you happy.” He smiled bitterly. “ I loved every second of it, watching her reminded me of my own family. It broke my heart to see her little face deflate when you barely acknowledged the gift and treated it like it was a bomb or something.” He shakes his head and walks out. Natasha follows him and says ‘ Its late, it's not safe for her to be out there alone, I’m going to look for her.”. Then she’s gone. Leaving only Tony and Steve in the living room. It’s quiet for a few minutes. They can hear Clint playing with his children, Lila laughing as Cooper and Clint chase her. 

“ You know, all my life I had to wonder if my dad loved me too.” Tony said suddenly. “ I guess that’s why I got along with Y/n so well.”

Steve sat on the couch and sighed. “ I guess I could’ve approached this differently.”

“That's your problem Rogers, you treat her like a mission. She’s a kid. Even I know that you can’t raise a kid that way.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “So, what do you think I should do?”  

Tony rolled his eyes again.” Well for one, you can go look for your fourteen year old daughter who ran out in the middle of the night in an area she doesn’t know.”

Steve's eyes widened and he shot up, “ Shit, I- I have to go find her.” and with that he ran out of the living room, leaving Tony alone as he heard him shout 

“Language!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Steve to get into town. The only problem he really faced was figuring out where you might be. Almost everything was closed except for a liquor store and some bars. He started to panic, as he started to think about the possibility of you being hurt or kidnapped or--

“Hey bomb pop, over here” someone whispers

Steve looks around to see Natasha standing in front of a bookshop. He jogs up to her and asks

“Nat what are you--” “SHHH, look” she points into the window.

At first Steve didn’t know what he was looking at. All he saw was two kids flirting on some bean bags. But then he looked closer and realized that was his kid flirting on some bean bags. He got ready to burst in there and drag her out, which surprised him.

“What are you doing” Natasha harshly whispered, “This is the first time in years y/n has talked to someone her age, and I will NOT let you ruin it.”

“But does it have to be a boy” Steve whines, then he shrinks back as Nat glares at him. 

“You have no right to play protective daddy right now, you--”

“Dad? Nat? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about an hour since you started talking to Levi, the cashier. Even though he insulted your book choice

“It’s a play about two bratty kids who think they’re in love and then kill themselves, its pathetic”

He’s interesting. He has this harsh exterior that is refreshing to you. You liked that he didn’t handle you with kids gloves like the rest of the Avengers did. He let you stay behind after closing as long as you helped him clean, but you didn’t last long because apparently you “cleaned like a blind person with no hands” whatever that means. After cleaning you two sat and talked about music and his friends. It was nice. That was until you felt eyes on you.

Looking out the window you noticed two figures staring at you. One petite red head and a tall blonde to be more specific. Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to Levi and thank him for one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. As you left he did something that surprised you.

“Hey brat, here’s my number.” He says as he gives you an old receipt, “ Don’t expect me to text you all night, I have a life too.” 

You just smile and say thank you, blushing as you realize this was your first friend in years. You put the number in your pocket and walk outside. 

“Dad? Nat?” You ask, cutting their little squabbling short. “What are you two doing here?” 

Nat and Steve stand up straight. 

“It was getting late and I was worried so I came to find you” Natasha said, “ But it seems to me that you were quite alright in there” She finishes with a smirk. You blush as you try to think of a retort. Before you say anything, you hear your dad clear his throat. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t getting intel on how to kill you or whatever you think what will happen if i make friends.” You again push past the two avengers, your good mood spoiled as you walk away. You hear some harsh whispering then your name is called. 

“Y/n” your father calls, “I think we need to talk.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @angeldreineedshelp @night-thinqer @ilyimagines @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

HanXReader Smut

Series

Pt. 1 : Story of how things started

'You know what you are? Ugly!'

You scoff at the childish remark thrown towards you from your lovely neighbour, Han.

'Classy' you reply.

'Oh sorry if I don't fit your standards, my lady.'

'Tch. Am I classy or am I uncultured, Han? Make up your mind.'

'Oh one thing I can definitely say about you is that you're goddamn ugly'

'Han, all this just because I won't give you my friend's number?'

'No. Not just because of that. It's because you said she's too good for me. That's pretty ironic from you is all I'm saying.'

'Jesus Christ Han! You're such a kid! I'm so glad I'm..! You pause to catch your breath.

'Well you know what, Han? I have some amazing news for you. Oh you might even love me after I tell you this. You're never gonna have to torture your eyes ever again because I AM GOING. I'm leaving tomorrow. Good, right?'

You turn to look at him when you finish your sentence just to see an expression of confusion on his face. For a moment you think you might finally have a wholesome moment with your sworn enemy.

That is, till he drop to his knees with his hands in the air.

'Oh thank you God!' There it was. What you once saw as a charming point on him now just seemed so rude.

The way he expresses with his whole body. The way he never seems shy to be loud.

Oh, how you hate it right now. The way he's using it to wish you goodbye.

You did eventually start to not enjoy being around him much. No, scratch that. You had started to hate being around him.

The initial connection that you both had had eventually soured due to his confrontive nature and your reserved more sugar-coated personality.

You had wanted to finally make amends with him and have a proper goodbye. The confusion that you had towards your feelings about Jisung Han now was crystal clear.

You thought it was just some childish feud you both had but now it was clear to you.

He was just rude.

You don't bother anymore as you leave the room without a warning.

'I mean, was it so wrong of me to think that we could finally have a normal conversation? You don't get it, f/n! This is the last time we see each other. He's not important enough to harbour negative feelings towards. There are so many other assholes out there. He's just annoying? God!'

Your friend gives you occasional nods as she helps with the packing, not really listening to what you're saying. It's a routine by now to her, you're the only one who doesn't see it that way.

'Well it's only till tomorrow. Atleast I have that to keep me sane.'

'Damn right about that. Now help me pack, come on.'

.........

Loading the last of the boxes into the car, you turn to look at your apartment one last time.

'Goodbye, apartment. And goodbye, Han Jisung.' You say and you can't help but smile as the thought of not having Han as a neighbour floods your mind.

..........

It's been almost a week now since you moved to your new apartment.

It was perfect. Not much was different from your old one since you set it up almost the same but the people. Oh, the people. Or rather lack of one person. It was music to your ears and refreshing for your eyes. The lack of Han.

There were moments where you wondered if the only thing you liked about your new apartment was the fact that it gave you freedom from him but you couldn't come to a conclusion on it.

*ring*

You turn to see an unknown number flashing across the screen.

'Hello?'

'You know what I ate for lunch yesterday?'

'What the f..!?'

'Wow okay. Good talking to you too.' The familiar voice replies.

'As I was saying, I had sushi with my friend yesterday and guess wh-'

'Wait wait hold up. How did you get my number?'

You question him and he says very matter-of-factly

'From your friend ofc. Funny how we never saved each other's numbers huh?'

'Oh God, wait. You got my number from the girl who's number you wanted me to give you.' You try to make sense of things but get cut off fast.

'Yea so as I was saying. I was having sushi and guess what I thought of.'

'Hmm okay. Fine. You thought of how you wanted to cut me up like sushi and feed me to the bears.'

You half-joke expecting a laugh from the other end but you're met with silence.

Finally he responds.

'What the shit? Dude, you're psychotic. Anyway I thought about how you told me you like sushi a lot.'

'.....okay? And?' You ask not sure where he's going with this.

'Oh that's not all. Don't worry. I saw this ad for this cleaning thing on TV and you know what I thought? I thought, 'oh! Y/n might like that!' And I was about to get it for you, you know. Then I remembered that you're not my neighbour anymore. Your loss.'

If you weren't confused by the sudden phone call from the dude who didn't even bother exchanging numbers with you, you're certainly confused now after listening to him talk.

You've never even thought about getting each other anything. He wouldn't even give you a pack of ramen when you asked him for one among his gazillion packs he stored for the apocalypse.

'Uh.. Good talking to you Han but I think you may be possessed.' And with that you hang up on him.

You throw your phone onto the sofa without saving his number which would reveal itself to be a mistake.

Next call you got was at 2am the next day.

'Hello?' You manage to groan out.

'You know what happened today?' You hear on the other end and the sleep still possessing you like a stubborn demon throws your senses out the window.

'What..'

'I was watching this new show called-'

'No, what? Who? Wrong number.' You mutter before hanging up on him.

You get a call right after and you pick up again out of instinct.

'Can you not hang up on me? So TV show..'

'Oh my god, who are you? Leave me alonee' You whine out.

'Y/n, it's Han?'

'Oh'

'Are you blind? And deaf? How did you not know it was me?'

'I didn't save your number, jackass. And you're whispering. How am I supposed to know who you are?'

'You didn't what? What do you mean you didn't save my number? You-'

'Han let me sleep. What is wrong with you?' You mutter before hanging up on him. Again.

You set the phone back down and go back to sleep or atleast try to.

Were you maybe a little too harsh to him?

'I mean he is a jackass but he did contact me first. God knows why but still..'

After deciding you can't fall back asleep you pick up the phone and dial his number.

'Fuck you, y/n'

'I'm sorry, what?'

'That's the second time you hung up on me. Look, I'm trying to talk to you okay?'

'Yea I can see that but why? Why now after I've already left the apartment and there's little to no chance we'll see each other again?' You groan out.

'Well I.. I don't know? Because you were my neighbour?'

You may be sleepy but you're not stupid. This turn of events is definitely suspicious but you can't put a finger on it.

'Okay, fine.. how about we talk about this in the morning when I'm not asleep? I don't know what got into you but I'm sure it's not something I can figure out in this state.'

And with that you hear the beep of the call being cut-off.

.... still as rude as ever.

-Next morning-

You're getting ready to start your day when you remember the events of the night.

Luckily today was an off-day which meant that you had enough time to entertain your crazy ex-neighbours antics.

You pick up the phone and dial the unfamiliar number.

'Hello, who might this be?'

You hear his exaggerated voice on the other end and already know how this is going to go.

'Seems like I have the wrong number, my bad.' You reply and hang up.

You hear him say something before you end the call and wait for him to call you back, which you're sure he will.

And you're right. Not a second later he calls you back.

You both talk about random things for a while.

'So uh.. this is a little weird you know..' You tell him.

'Us being able to talk to each other without breaking into a fight'

He stays quiet for a while before humming.

'Hmm.. well. It's not that weird if you think about it. You were one of the only few people close to my age in that apartment. I did like having you around, you know.. I just didn't realise it until you were gone and I was stuck with all the old folks again.'

You're a bit taken back by this but you know that it makes sense.

Even for you, Jisung was a pleasant change from hanging out with Misters and the Missuses next door.

It just was so that he was an annoying piece of shit that got you worked up to the point where you were glad to leave.

But speaking to him now doesn't seem so bad.

And that feeling is why you agreed to hang out with him next day.

......

And that kids, is the story of how I met my newest headache.

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

skate a little piece of my heart; jjk

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; rollerskatinginstructor!jungkook!! sfw!! fluff!! honk honk humour!! jungkook is a very handsome instructor and y/n can’t tell if that’s a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 6.3k

➺ summary; your two left feet and complete lack of balance isn’t the only thing that’s making you weak in the knees this valentine’s day. 

➺ what to expect; “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!” 

➺ currently spinning on the record player; how deep is your love; bee gees

                                     »»————-　💫  ————-««

“this is so dumb.”

“safety is never dumb, y/n!” taehyung raps his knuckles against the top of your helmet and you scowl before swatting his hand away, “now, where are your kneepads?”

you let out a groan before tilting your head back slowly, your eyes widening in slight panic at the surprisingly hefty weight of the helmet

your arms flail for a second and you immediately reach up to grip both sides of the helmet before forcing your head back up

jesus

you nearly snapped your own neck there

of course, snapping your own neck would mean not being able to skate because you’d technically be dead… so maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all…

(by the way, it’s concerning how many times you’ve considered literal death just to get out of doing something.)

“are you going to lift your leg for me or do i have to do everything for you?”

you look down to see taehyung down on the ground in front of you holding one of the knee pads and you frown lightly before lifting your leg and placing your sock-clad foot on his knee

“please tell me this is the last of the safety gear…” you whine, “tae, i literally look so dorky right now- no one else is wearing helmets or knee and elbow pads!” you gesture to seokjin and namjoon who are busy putting on their skates over on the other bench before scoffing lightly and crossing your arms 

if namjoon (arguably the klutziest one out of this group of people) isn’t even wearing a helmet, then what does that say about you??

you’ve seen him trip over nothing and scrape both his knees so why are you the only one wearing all of this junk?!

“i took you ice-skating over christmas and you fell flat on your ass more times than i could count, and you insisted that you didn’t need any safety equipment even though it was alarmingly clear that you did. i basically spent two hours making sure you didn’t die-” taehyung looks up at you with a raised brow, “do you want to fall and split your skull open in front of everyone?”

“if it means not having to gear up in all this dorkware- then, yes. i would love to have my brains splat across the rink in front of everyone. in fact, that would probably be less embarrassing-” you grumble, flinching slightly as taehyung suddenly yanks hard to tighten up your laces, “i’m an adult, taehyung! grown-ups don’t need to wear all of this!” 

“grown-ups don’t throw tantrums either, but here you are…” taehyung mutters under his breath, putting your foot down before giving your knee a slap, “perfect! we’re good to go!”

“yeah, yeah…” you reach under to scratch at your elbow only to feel your nails scrape against the smooth surface of the plastic protection shell and you resist the urge to rip it off out of frustration

taehyung decided that it’d be a great idea to bring everyone to a rollerskating rink for valentine’s day this year instead of… letting people go out to intimate dinners and celebrate on their own… because, quote, ‘i just want all of us to spend more time together, and what better day to do that then on valentine’s day?? …ooh, we should call it pal-entine’s day. ha! get it?? because we’re all pals-’

(he was dumped recently, so everyone’s kind of letting him run the ship for now. …basically, no one can say no to taehyung unless they want to see him burst into tears. he’s still in a very delicate state.)

but, honestly… a rollerskating rink!

out of all the places to go to!

you already have two left feet, so forcing said left feet into shoes with wheels is a horrible idea

“i think it’d be best if i just sat back and watched you guys!” you try for the umpteenth time to get taehyung to let you off the hook, “plus, they sell chilli dogs here and they actually smell really good and i kind of want to order one for myself even though it might end in me having to get my stomach pumped-” you gesture back towards the refreshments counter and taehyung shakes his head before sticking his hand out for you

“there’s plenty of time for you to scarf down a rubbery hotdog later- now, c’mon-”

“i don’t even know how to skate!”

“that’s fine, you’ll learn! it’ll be like riding a bicycle except you are the bicycle-”

“you know, i’m just going to be complaining the whole time, and it’s going to ruin your time here. honestly, tae, why am i here??”

“because i’m not emotionally stable enough to spend valentine’s day alone yet and i need to surround myself with as many people as possible otherwise i’m going to be alone with my thoughts and i’m going to spiral!” taehyung’s voice cracks as he snaps at you and you immediately press your lips together and avert your gaze, trying to ignore the weird glances the two of you are getting from the strangers around you

…

“okay, well-” you push yourself up off the bench before wobbling slightly and reaching over to grab onto taehyung’s arm for stability, “i don’t know about you, but i’m most certainly ready to tear up that rink!”

“perfect!” taehyung chirps, quickly reverting back to his ‘everything is fine and i’m definitely not dying on the inside’ state, “and don’t worry. rollerskating is much easier than ice-skating, so there’s less of a chance of you potentially embarrassing yourself here-” taehyung gives your hand a pat as the two of you shuffle your way towards the entrance gate, “trust me, you’ll get the hang of it as soon as you start!”

“you saw me on ice…” you snort, your knees already wobbling as you take your first step into the rink, “i really don’t think i’m going to be any better on wood-”

“well, lucky for you…” taehyung lets go of you and you immediately cling to the railing in panic, “i went ahead i hired an instructor for you!”

you frown as you pull one hand away and rub your fingers together 

god, why are the railings so sticky-

“you- woah, hold on a second-” you look up and over at taehyung with wide eyes when you finally catch on to what he just said, “i’m sorry, you did what?”

“what? i can’t stay by your side and watch you all night.” he shrugs, placing his hands on his hips as he stands in front of you, “we were moving so slowly on the ice that i was sure it was starting to melt underneath our skates-”

“you just told me you don’t want to be alone and now you’re handing me off to someone else instead of spending time with me??” you frown, manoeuvring your stance so that both your hands are gripping onto the railing behind your bum, “why force me to skate if you’re not doing it with me?”

“i mean, i obviously want to spend time with you, but i also don’t want to be skating, like, one mile an hour-” taehyung snorts, “i’m forcing you to skate so that one day, we can skate together without me having to worry about you slipping and sliding all over the place like a baby giraffe!”

“well, why can’t you teach me instead of paying for someone else to do it?”

a brief moment of silence passes as taehyung rolls over to get you to release your iron grip from the bars

“…because teaching you how to skate instead of actually spending time skating sounded really boring-” he mutters quickly, your eyes widening as you turn to look at him

“wha-”

“also-” he cuts you off, placing his hands on your hips from behind as he starts to roll you forwards slowly (though, you haven’t noticed this yet because you’re still focused on the fact that he didn’t want to teach you - you’re a great student!!), “there was a girl who kept smiling at me when i was strapping you up in all your gear, and i need to find out if i still have game or not-”

“this sounds more like you’re trying to fill the empty void inside of you with meaningless sex, which, by the way, isn’t a very healthy coping mechanism-” 

“i will fill this empty void inside of me in whichever way i want, thank you very much-” taehyung snorts, shaking his head, “plus, it’s too late to back out because the policy states that they don’t take refunds and he’s already here-”

“wait, what??” you immediately look back to the front, the fact that you are being rolled towards someone now sinking into your brain, “who- oh my god, stop rolling me-!”

taehyung’s fingers dig into your hips as he comes to a sudden halt, “what??”

“spin me around.” 

taehyung blinks before slowly turning you around so that you’re facing him and you pray to god that you don’t look like some kind of rotating rotisserie chicken right now  

you open your mouth to speak when you finally see taehyung’s face again but he continues to spin you slowly so that you end up in the same position you were in a second ago

...

“for god’s sake, taehyung- spin me around so i’m looking at you, you moron-”

“ohh, okay, i thought you just wanted to spin you around for fun-”

“why would i want you to spin me around for f- okay, that’s not important right now-” you shake your head, “i just want to say that the only reason why i’m doing this is because you kind of sprung this on me last minute and i don’t want to inconvenience anyone, but just know that you now owe me big time- now, spin me back around and wheel me to whoever i’m going to be stuck with for the next couple of hours.”

“noted!” taehyung chirps as he rolls you back so you’re facing the front, “he’s right over there by the other entrance- the guy in the yellow-” your eyes flit around until they land on the guy in the yellow and you immediately feel your heart starting to beat a little harder in your chest at the sight of the guy in the yellow, “his name’s jungkook, he has a shining five-star rating, he’s a wonderful teacher according to all the parents whose kids he’s taught- i’m pretty sure you’re his oldest student so don’t embarrass yourself-”

you feel your mouth go dry when jungkook reaches down to adjust the bottom of his tied button-up shirt before opening the sides of it a little more to show off his chest

he reaches up to twirl a loose tendril of hair around his finger before gently pushing it back and running his hand through his hair, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek briefly 

oh no

oh, no

he’s attractive

he’s very, very attractive

“tae.” you keep a polite smile on your face as you slink your right arm behind you to attempt to blindly punch him in the gut, “why didn’t you tell me that the instructor was cute?”

“oh, i’m sorry.” taehyung responds sarcastically, “i didn’t think attractiveness was an important factor when considering an instructor.”

“well, it is when the instructor looks like that-” you feel your cheeks warm when jungkook smiles brightly at the two of you before waving enthusiastically, “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!”

“i don’t know what there is to freak out about. the guy’s handsome- so what?” taehyung waves back at jungkook before giving your hips a playful squeeze, “if anything, you should see this as a bonus - you get some eye-candy while you learn!”

“okay, well, don’t make me sound pervy-”

“not to mention, he’s your age! so it’ll be like you’re just hanging out with a friend-”

“a friend?! taehyung, i’m wearing overalls, my hair is in pigtails, and all this protective gear that you shoved me in makes me look like an eight year old-!” you gasp when you feel yourself suddenly bump into something hard and taehyung quickly loops his arm around your waist to keep you from toppling over

it’s a second later that you realize the something hard that you bumped into was jungkook’s obviously broad chest, so obviously this rollerskating lesson is already off to a fantastic start 

“woah, you got it?” jungkook holds both his hands out in case you fall over and you let out a nervous chuckle before reaching up to push your helmet up slightly

“i’m fine!” your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “…hello.”

“hi! it’s nice to meet you- y/n, right?” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake and you smile nervously before reaching out to take it, “my name’s jungkook! i’m super excited for today. we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

you don’t know if it’s just because he’s clearly one of those fun and overly friendly! instructors or if he’s just naturally bubbly but he’s talking to you like you’re a child

(you probably could’ve ditched the pigtails today.) 

“okay, i’m going to go off now so let me just hand y/n over to you-” taehyung arm slips from your waist before he gently rolls you towards jungkook, “you two have fun!”

your hands immediately slap down on the railings right as you feel yourself about you slip and you let out a breath of relief

that was a close call

“we will!” jungkook smiles, waving at taehyung as he skates off, “you enjoy yourself out there!”

you watch helplessly as taehyung skates away, jungkook turning back to look at you with a (very handsome) smile

you feel your heart skip a beat once again and you immediately curse in your head 

…you’re screwed.

                                    »»————-　💫  ————-««

“because of the balance and control required, it’ll take a little bit of getting used to- but once you get the hang out it, rollerskating is super fun!” jungkook reaches out so you can take his hand, “do you wanna let go of the bar for me?”

there are a lot of things you’d like to do for jungkook but letting go of the railing and potentially falling in front of him is most definitely not one of them

“you know, i think i’m good!” you chuckle, your knuckles practically going white at how tightly you’re gripping onto the railing, “why don’t you just keep talking while i… you know, get used to the feeling of just standing while wearing skates?”

“okay, if that’s what you’re comfortable with, that’s what we can do. let’s see… ah!” jungkook perks up, clapping his hands together before gesturing down to his own feet, “so, you’re gonna wanna keep your feet shoulder-width apart. can you do that for me?”

you look down at your feet, not at all surprised to see that they’re practically glued to each other

okay

shoulder-width apart

you can do that, right?

you lift your right foot up slowly before quickly moving it farther away from your left foot, your skate skidding slightly against the floor as you stomp down

goD these skates are clunky

you’ll never understand how people find this activity genuinely enjoyable

“see? not so bad, right? now, i’m really going to need you to let go of the bar for me so that we can move onto the next step- i swear i won’t let you fall if you take my hand.”

your eyes flicker down to his outstretched hand and you twist your lips uncertainly, “you promise?”

jungkook places his hand over his heart, “i promise.”

you lift one hand off the rail and quickly take jungkook’s hand, pausing for a second to make sure that everything feels okay before quickly lifting the other hand off the rail

you practically slap your hand down on jungkook’s other palm and let out a breath of relief as soon as he grips it tightly, and you look back in concern when jungkook starts to pull you away from the railing

“there you go! see?” jungkook smiles brightly, giving your hands a squeeze to get you to focus on him instead of the bars, “not so bad, right?” 

“yeah, i guess so…” you puff out, feeling your heart starting to pound harder not onLY because the safety of the railings have been taken away from you but also because jungkook’s hands are… very soft.,,. and very warm,.,. and very pretty.,., and all-in-all very nice

“okay, step two. so, this next part is going to make you feel a little silly, but we have to walk like ducks because it just makes the process of walking easier. you kind of have to point your toes outwards- yeah, just like that! and don’t forget to squat a little-” jungkook hums, leaning over a little so he can look to see if your stance is okay, “perfect! we’re just going to keep practicing until you get used to walking...”  

“you know, taehyung actually took me ice-skating over the holidays and i fell, like… ten times.” you snort, keeping your eyes on your skates as you take one small step after another, “i thought rollerskating would be easier but i feel like there are more rules to worry about…”

“oh my god, don’t even worry about it-“ jungkook snorts, shaking his head, “i’m an awful ice-skater. you’d think it’d come naturally to me because i can rollerskate- plus, i don’t see the fun in ice-skating! i know it’d never happen but i’m always paranoid that the skates are going to slice-”

“-the ice open and you’re going to fall through and plunge into the icy water?”

“exactly! see, you get it.” jungkook grins, leaning down a little to check your posture again, “you know, you’re a complete natural. i don’t know why you were so nervous to begin with!”

you snort in response and resist the urge to tell him that his face was one of the major things that contributed to your nerves 

“ooh, and you know what else i hate about ice-skating?” jungkook gasps, “that if i fall and get my hands on the ground, someone’s going to skate over them and amputate all of my fingers.”

you immediately burst into giggles and he gawks playfully

“are you laughing at a genuine fear of mine, y/n?? i didn’t take you to be someone who could be so cruel…”

“no, i’m not laughing at you!” you smile softly and you can’t help but note how warm and comforting his presence is, “i’m just- i said that exact same thing to taehyung when we were ice-skating and he said i was being ridiculous, so it’s nice to know that someone shares the same opinions on ice-skating as i do.” you instinctively squeeze jungkook’s hands when you feel the wheels roll out from underneath you a little and you end up jerking forward a little 

“woah-! you’re okay- i’ve got you…” jungkook rubs his thumbs over your knuckles reassuringly as he waits for you to regain your balance and start walking again, “i told you i wouldn’t let you fall, remember?”

“yeah…” you smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up a little

you don’t feel as nervous anymore

no wonder jungkook has a five-star rating as an instructor

he’s great!

“also, you do realise we’ve walked, like, an entire round around the rink, right?”

“what? we have?” you pause, looking up from your skates for the first time in ten minutes 

you’re almost at the spot you were at right when you first started

woah

wow!!

you didn’t even realize!!

that’s so cool!!

you walked an entire round without falling (a lot of almost-falling, but you’ll take it)!!!

“i mean, i don’t know about you, but i feel like we can move on to gliding now…” jungkook whistles lowly, “you’re a very fast learner so i’m not worried.”

“gliding is…” you lean over a little when you notice taehyung having a blast at the other side of the rink with his new companion, the two of them skating side by side

she laughs at something he says before playfully swatting at his arm

it’s just good to see him smiling and not crying for once 

one of the things that you love most about taehying is that he’s so in tune with his emotions, but when his ex (he forbade you from saying her name) broke up with him, he cried so much that you were pretty sure he had completely dehydrated himself 

so it’s nice that he seems to be enjoying himself! 

“so, gliding is-” jungkook steps over to get right into your line of vision and you quickly look back at him with an attentive smile, “basically turning your steps into smoooooth strokes. instead of dropping your foot straight down, you’re going to be pushing it forward and out. it’s kind of hard to explain gliding… you kinda just have to let momentum carry you forward and do its thing, you know? it’s literally just a one foot after the other situation.”

“well, if you can glide backwards, i’m sure i can figure out how to do it normally.” you point out, jungkook snorting in response

“trust me, you’ll be able to pick it up quickly. remember that when you’re gliding on one foot to keep your other slightly hovering above ground so it doesn’t interfere-” jungkook stops himself when he notices your brows knitting together (you seem to do this a lot when you’re focusing too hard on something), “ah, you know- i find that it’s easier to glide when you’re not actually focused on the gliding!” he chirps, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, “if it helps, you can keep your eyes on me instead of staring down at your skates.”

hAh

if anything, staring directly at jungkook is going to throw you off your game compared to keeping your eyes glued on the ground

“okay, i will... try not to focus on the gliding while simultaneously focus on the gliding.” your tongue instinctively pokes out slightly in concentration as you push forward with one foot, being sure to keep your other a little above ground just like jungkook said 

you quickly switch to the other foot when you feel your right foot slowly starting to lose momentum, pushing off with your left instead and lengthening your stride so you can skate a little further 

hey

look at that! 

not bad!! 

“look at you go, superstar!” jungkook cheers encouragingly, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you gliding flawlessly, “you were born for this!” 

“you know, you may have a point- woAh-” your skates roll out a little from under you and you lurch forward, jungkook quickly sliding his grip from your hands to underneath your elbows to keep you from falling, “...yeah, so i spoke too soon.” you huff, blowing a strand of hair away from your face as you glance up at jungkook, still bent over at a ninety degree angle

“it’s my bad, i think i may have blown up your ego with all my compliments-” the sides of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, “all good?” 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feel a piece of your soul float out from your body when you realise you basically look like a little old woman clutching onto one of those rolling walkers

wow

the possibility of jungkook being interested in you was low to begin with, but now it’s probably been squashed entirely

“uh, yes!” you clear your throat as you force yourself to stand up stick-straight, your knees clacking together for a second before you get back into position, “all good! i’m all good. we’re good.” 

oh boy 

if it makes you feel any better… it can’t get any worse than this, right?

“i-” you jolt when the music suddenly clicks off and is replaced by the shrill ringing of microphone feedback

“youch.” jungkook winces, raising his shoulder slightly and tilting his head down towards it so he can try to cover up one of his ears 

your brows furrow in confusion as you look up towards the speakers, unsure of if there’s just a technical difficulty or if something important is happening, “what’s going o-”

“sorry for the interruption, skaters! we just wanted to cut in and wish every single one of you a happy valentine’s day...” 

a large disco ball lowers from the ceiling as the lights begin to dim, the room suddenly engulfed in a warm pink glow as visions of glinting sparkles and hearts reflect from the disco ball onto the wooden floors along with the velvety walls

oh, god

seriously?!

you look up towards the speakers and resist the urge to curse and shake your fist at them like an angry old man

haven’t the people here considered that there might be single people in the rink?! 

…on valentine’s day…??

yeah that doesn’t make much sense

“grab your lover and glide along the floor as we play you some romantic tunes on this romantic evening… also, to the owner of a baby blue mercedes-benz convertible- i repeat, a baby blue mercedez-benz convertible... your car is parked in a tow-away zone. that’s all!”

the bee gees’ how deep is your love starts to play and you quickly pull your hands away from jungkook’s, your face flushing in embarrassment at the sudden change in atmosphere

you wobble slightly as soon as you pull away and immediately stick both your arms out in a poor attempt to keep balanced

okay

all you have to do is glide your way towards the exit so that you’re not just awkwardly standing in the middle of the ring while lovey-dovey couples skate around you

it’s only then that you realise that jungkook is facing away from you and seemingly looking for someone

you tap him on the shoulder and he turns to glance at you, “yes?”

“who... who are you looking for?” you frown, leaning over to peer over him so you can see what he’s seeing

“hm? oh, i was just looking for your boyfriend…” he trails off, continuing to look around the rink, “the two of you probably want to skate together right now and you’ll get to show off your brand new gliding skills, which is exciting-”

“boyfri- are you talking about taehyung?” you snort, quirking a brow in amusement, “he’s… oh my god, he’s definitely not my boyfriend. i’m only here for emotional support because he just got out of a relationship- we don’t have to get into it- the point is, he’s not my boyfriend. i don’t, uh, i’m not in a relationship at the moment. i’m… very single.”

why are you still talking?!

you clear your throat as you look for the nearest exit gate

“oh!” jungkook blinks before turning back around to face you, “in that case-“ your eyes widen in surprise when he sticks his hand out for you to take, “shall we?”

you blink down at his outstretched hand cluelessly before suddenly realizing what it is he’s asking

“oh, i-” you snort, immediately shaking your head, “no, you don’t have to do that…”

“what do you mean?” jungkook frowns, tilting his head curiously, “you don’t want to skate with me? after all we’ve been through?? y/n, you’re breaking my heart here!” he jokes, clutching at his chest before pouting (quite cutely) at you 

“n-no!” you laugh lightly, shaking your head, “i mean, of course i’d love to skate with- i-it’s very nice of you to offer, and i know you’re obviously being paid and stuff but you don’t… ah, you don’t have to force yourself to skate with me if you don’t want to...” you mutter, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “like, i’m sure taehyung’s already planning to give you an extra big tip for basically babysitting me all night so you don’t have to force yourself to do anything extra-”

“no, i wanna skate with you!” jungkook interrupts, skating over so that he’s standing next to you instead, “plus, it’ll be good practice, right?”

“well, i-” you don’t get a chance to respond before jungkook’s suddenly slipping an arm around your waist and holding onto one of your hands for extra support, “i don’t know, i suppose i’m just not used to gliding without holding both of your hands so i’m just worried i’m going to make both of us fall somehow which would be mortifying-”

“that’s alright, i can hold both your hands if you feel safer that way,” jungkook chuckles, his arm sliding away from your waist so he can swivel around and stand in front of you again, “after all, it’s better to be safe than to be sorry!” he takes your hands gently as he starts to skate backwards, his thumbs rubbing the tops of your knuckles comfortingly

-‘cause we’re living in a world of fools... breaking us down... when they all should let us be... we belong to you and me...

how deep is your love continues to echo all around you and even though you feel a little awkward skating around with your instructor to a very romantic song, you have to admit that this was a great choice of song for valentine’s day 

it’s a timeless classic! 

“so, you, um…” jungkook clears his throat after a minute or two of comfortable silence, turning back for a second to glance over his shoulder and make sure he’s not about to crash into anyone, “what kind of things do you like doing?”

and it’s me you need to show... how deep is your love?

“rollerskating. is it not obvious?” you joke, looking up at him and reminding yourself that you should make more of an effort to look at him and noT constantly at the ground, “um, i don’t know! that’s kind of a broad question, i guess. i like... i like... i like painting-! i mean, i’m not good at it, but it’s a pretty relaxing hobby...” 

“painting is nice!” jungkook nods slowly in agreement before perking up slightly, “say, have you ever been to a pottery studio?” 

“you know, i actually haven’t!” you shake your head before staring past jungkook’s shoulder in thought, “i should go to one... it sounds like a lot of fun! do you...” you cough quietly and avert your gaze slightly, “do you go there often with your... uh, significant other?” 

“me? oh, i’m not in a relationship.” jungkook chuckles before giving you a shrug, “none of my co-workers wanted to take the valentine’s day shift because they actually have someone to spend valentine’s day with, so... that’s why i’m here!”

“oh! so, you’re…” you trail off before pressing your lips together and giving him a firm nod, “i see.”

so you’re both single?

interesting

very interesting 

you can’t help but wonder if he’s looking to change that  

“i-”

“incoming!”

you don’t even get a chance to turn around to see what’s going on when suddenly someone’s basHING into you from behind and making you lose your balance

and the next thing you know you’re stumbling forwards and poor jungkook’s reflexes aren’t fast enough because-

“oh-!” you land on top of jungkook with your legs on either side of him, your knee pads clacking loudly against the ground, “oh, shit-” 

“sorry! my bad!” taehyung glides past you with a sheepish smile before not-so-subtly gesturing to the girl he’s got on his arm and giving you an obnoxious wink and a thumbs up as a way to let you know he’s definitely getting boned tonight

you want nothing more than to rip your skates off right now so you can chase after him and bash his head in 

you turn to look down at jungkook, immediately raising your hands up off his (broad, broad) chest as your entire face flushes bright red, “i am- i am so sorry- are you okay?? is your head okay?? i can- i can give you my helmet!” you wince, reaching up to unbuckle your helmet before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside

“don’t sweat it, i’m completely fine-” jungkook laughs lightly before shaking his head, propping himself up onto his elbows and blowing a curled strand of hair away from his eyes with a puff, “my head’s fine! luckily i didn’t hit it on the ground or anything like that, but my ass-”

“oh, god. i’m so sorry- here, i’ll-” you attempt to get up off the ground only for the wheels on your skates to roll out from under you and for your knee to smack against the ground again, jungkook grunting as you bounce on him a little harder than intended, “oh, jesus christ-”

great

there’s no way you’re going to be able to get up because of these stupid skates and now your very cute instructor is a hostage in between your thighs!

“this is so humiliating, i am... so, so sorry- i’m definitely forcing taehyung to give you a generous tip after all of this is over-” you laugh uncomfortably, your hands about to place themselves on jungkook’s chest again before you quickly move them so that they’re on either side of his head instead

of course, this position isn’t any better because now you’re just staring down at his face directly 

little white hearts from the disco ball float over his face and though you know this is hardly the right time, your heart can’t help but go badumpbadump at the reminder of how pretty jungkook is 

“okay, wait, what if i-” he suddenly sits straight up and your eyes immediately cross at the close proximity of your faces, “hi.”

you don’t know if it’s even possible but you feel your face get even redder and you find that you’re unable to look away from jungkook 

he has very sweet-looking eyes 

they’re a very nice shade of brown 

“i- uh, hello.” you clear your throat quietly, pressing your hands as close to your own chest as possible so that you’re not touching jungkook, “hi.” 

the last thing you want is for him to accuse you of groping him

but maybe it’d be a good thing to get a lifetime ban from the rollerskating rink

then taehyung will never be able to force you to skate again!

“we should take your skates off so that we’re not stuck like this all night.” you twitch when you feel jungkook’s hand slide down the side of your calf before reaching the top of your skates, “do you think you can undo your other one for me?”

“ah- yes. yes, i can do that.” you turn away so you can look back at your skate, reaching down and ripping the velcro strap before hurrying to undo the laces

you feel jungkook fumble at your skate, yanking the tie loose before trying to help you wiggle your foot out of it, “okay, just pull your foot out-”

“yeah, lemme just-” you have to shuffle forwards in order for jungkook to pull the skate off of you and your nose crinkles when you realize you’ve just gone ahead and fully pressed your chest to jungkook’s 

wonderful

just wonderful 

(for the record, he smells really good... but you’re pretty sure you sound like a creep right now, so maybe you should go ahead and scrap that thought.) 

“what happened to not letting me fall?” you joke lightly as you get up off the ground, hoping to ease the tension a little from whatever all of that was, “are you sure you’re okay? i didn’t break anything?” 

“i promise you i’m totally fine-” jungkook gets back up onto his feet and bends down to pick up your skates before popping up to look at you with a grin, “and it only happened because i was distracted!” he pauses for a brief moment before tilting his head, his smile softening, “can you blame me? you’re very pretty.”

oh

you weren’t expecting him to say that

“oh, that’s- ha… that’s very nice of you.” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck before letting out a nervous chuckle, “you are… also… quite… visually appealing.”

quite visually appealing  

why are you speaking like an alien trying to convince everyone that they aren’t an alien?!

“so, there’s still about half an hour left of your lesson left, but i feel like you’ve had enough of skating for now.” jungkook changes the subject quickly and you can’t help but notice that his ears are starting to get red, “we can just sit on the bench and rest... or do you... uh, do you maybe want to share a chilli dog with me?” he asks quietly, and for the first time since meeting him he’s the one who looks away from you first 

“...you know, i think that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” you giggle, reaching over to loop your arm through his when he sticks it out for you, “i would love to share a chilli dog with you.” 

“not to flex or anything, but i do get the employee discount…” jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to pop open his collar obnoxiously before turning to give you a wide grin, “and if that doesn’t impress you, i don’t know what will.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

Cupid in love

Pairing: Cupid!Jaehyun x female!reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, angst?

WC: 3,150k

Warnings: FANTASY GALORE. rough break up sex, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, swearing, mentions of other idols

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time.. For NCT-WRITERS Cafe Resonance

—————

Walking around the mall alone and witnessing yet another beautiful, and successful Valentines Day for the year of 2021 and you’re the only person in the world who knew the man behind this beautiful day.

“Alone during Valentine’s day Y/n? Jaehyun hyung can’t come?” Mark, the waiter from the cafe asked you while he serves you your third round of your favorite warm drink. This is where you and Jaehyun first met, and you have been celebrating Valentines day for nearly three years here now just because Jaehyun can see all the lovers holding hands through that clear glass. All his hard work has paid off.

But tonight, he is already two hours late and you wonder why because he has never been late on Valentine’s Day.

“Uhm, Jaehyun will be a little bit late. Business trip. But I completely understand his schedule” you smiled and thanked him.

Of course you’re not sad that Jaehyun couldn’t make it on time this year. Maybe he got caught up with a little work an emergency perhaps? But you do hope that this is nothing serious.

Three Valentine’s Day ago

You were sitting quietly at Cafe Resonance with a warm drink on your side. Just admiring the happy couples that are enjoying the day with flowers, sweets, and different kinds of surprises. It was a normal day for you, but not until a very handsome man sat in front of you on the other side of the table. Giving you three pieces of Cafe Resonance’s Valentine cookies.

A cupid in his human form. Came out to play and enjoy his day for his own selfish needs. The gods forbade Jaehyun to celebrate his own day so he could stay pure like the god that he is and remain sinless and worthy. But the young cupid is full of passion and curiosity that he took his chance to walk on Earth and make himself meet someone that can satisfy his physical wants.

“The cafe manager said that if I want someone to fall on love with me, I should give them a Valentine cookie” he said and flashed a very handsome smile at you. Knowing all too well that what the manager told him was complete bullshit, because no one can force love to happen with anyone but him.

At least that’s what he knew.

Your first encounter with Jaehyun was surprisingly refreshing and fun. You ate all the cookies that he gave and to be honest you only did that to show him that you’re interested with him too, and also it’s not so bad to fall in love with someone like him. He’s nice, decent and well mannered. Though it’s pretty obvious that he’s after for some Valentine’s sex, and you have no problem with that.

At the end of the day, the man made you scream in bed, fucked you on the wall and made you cum for more three times using his cock. He sure knew how to fuck, you thought.

But the bitter feeling and ugly thought of waking up without him by yourself the next day is something you don’t want to happen so even though you’re dead tired from the sex, you try si hard not to sleep yet and make the best of this moment by asking too much questions to him that he likes answering.

Was the valentine cookie from Cafe Resonance real? Is it really possible for you to fall in love with a stranger?

“Go sleep. I promise I’m still here when you wake up” he said.

And he kept his promise not only the day after Valentine’s Day, but also for the next few weeks. Who would expect that a cupid who just wanted to have fun during his day, wasn’t so immune with love after all. And who would expect that he’s willing to be punished by the gods because of you? But what amazes Jaehyun the most, is how you fell in love with him. Because even as a cupid, he didn’t made you like him or used his powers for his selfishness.

Either way, he still refused on believing that the Valentine cookie was real and effective. Such kind of love mustn’t be tolerated he thought.

Life with Jaehyun was sweet and real. Too beautiful to ruin. That’s why when Jaehyun said that he’s leaving, you didn’t take it lightly which soon lead to your first fight.

Jaehyun didn’t have much of a choice but to tell you the truth. Even though you just laughed at him when he finally said the words, he secretly hoped that you’d still understand because he believes that you love him.

“I don’t have a choice Y/n. I’ve been away for months now. I am neglecting my duty as a cupid, by this time the happy couples that we saw during Valentine’s day could have broken up already because I’m not around” he explains frustratedly.

“So you’re saying that you’re the cupid and couples can break up because you’re not around. Because you’ve been busy being happy with me?”

“Yes” he answered weakly and reached for your hand to kiss it. Promising you that he will come back and find you. “It’s just for a year. I’ll sort everything out and I promise I’ll give the love that you deserve”

And as Jaehyun left you as soon as the truth was revealed, you let him leave you with a big doubt and judgement in your heart. Is he secretly married and you’re a mistress now? Have you done something wrong to make him leave you like this? And these ugly thoughts ran thru your mind for months and months during his absence.

During your wait for Jaehyun’s return, you decided to move on and just date anyone to forget everything about Jaehyun. But every time that you plan a date with someone, the set date will be either cancelled or the guy won’t show up. Little did you know that Jaehyun is the man behind those unfortunate events. Secretly watching you from a cloud above you, guiding you towards patience until he returns and win your heart again.

It was not easy for Jaehyun to see you like this, purposely forgetting everything about him like he was just a dream to you. He can’t let that happen, for he knew that what you have is love.

On the next Valentine’s Day, you can’t believe who showed up in your doorstep. He didn’t change a bit, and neither his feelings for you.

“Can I come inside?” the cupid asked nervously.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but seriously what are you doing here Jae?”

“I told you I’d come back right? I’m here now, and we don’t have much time-“

“I have a boyfriend now so please leave me alone”

“That’s a lie. I know everything about you, I’ve watch you every day from above for a whole year. Please just believe me. Don’t push me away, I kept my promise didn’t I? I’m here now”

And the thought of Jaehyun keeping his promise was enough for you to welcome him in but your heart is still cold and broken because of what happened from the past.

As you and Jaehyun sit and have a decent conversation, he showed his wings which is enough proof to believe him that he really is the cupid. You were speechless for hours, and your apartment’s for corners was suffocating you so Jaehyun decided to have a walk with you.

He wanted to hold your hand like every couple he sees now. He wanted to whisper how much he misses you and loves you. Ironic isn’t it? He’s the cupid who spreads love on Earth but he can’t have love for himself.

“So how old are you?” you finally spoke. Those were your first words after seeing his wings, and that was four hours ago.

“Human age is 25, but cupid age... I have no idea but let’s say almost 127 years old? That’s still young in cupid years” he smiled and let out a small laugh. Completely missing that you’re shocked to the core upon hearing his age. But now that you know more truths about him, the normal thing you would do was react hysterically and make him leave you alone. Surprisingly, you wanted to hear more about him. To hear more about the truth.

“Tell me more?” You said shyly, slowly reaching for his hand for you to hold and hold it tightly. Oh you missed him.

He smiled so big and reached in for a kiss on the forehead before he tells you more about him and to what he do. The simple walk turned into a date, and of course he brought you to Cafe Resonance to celebrate your reunion and basically your first year of knowing each other. And when you got back to your apartment, he immediately brought you to your room and fucked you all night in different positions.

“When are you going to leave?” you asked while drawing circles on his chest and savouring his warmth.

“Tomorrow” he answered weakly and tightens his embrace, “I can’t be away from duty like what I did last year. The gods might not let me see you if I continue to be stubborn”

“It’s sad. But I understand, and at least now I have something to look forward to”

Three Valentine’s Day later

Thru the years of being together, even when you don’t see each other everyday, Jaehyun always finds a way to show his love for you thru unexpected things. Big or small.

Like during your birthdays, he always sends gifts to you with sweet and short notes. Or like whenever you wake up on your side of the bed and see a feather on his side of the bed. That simply means he’s always with you, like an angel.

This year’s Valentine’s day marks your three years if staying in love with each other, and you’re more than excited with seeing him today. But given that he was hours and hours late already, you decided to call it a day and go home to rest. Maybe he will come by the next day? Nonetheless, you still believe that he will do everything just to be with you.

Three days later, he’s still nowhere to be found and it’s weird how you can’t feel him watching you anymore. What is happening?

“Hi Y/n” Mark greeted you with his normal cheerful aura. “Were you and Jaehyun supposed to meet? You completely missed him. It’s weird actually, he came here not have some coffee but instead he had a talk with the manager”

“Uh- yeah, sorry. I guess I’ll see him at home then,” you answered awkwardly and forgot the cake that you purchased.

When you came back to your apartment, finally you see his unique figure standing by the window and staring blankly at the sky.

“I thought you forgot about me, are you okay? Jaehyun?” You hugged him from behind and kissed his broad shoulders.

“Sorry about that, how are you?” He turned around and return the hug and kisses. Saying that he’s really sorry for leaving you hanging on a very special day.

“I’m fine. What happened? Is there something wrong? You look troubled” you asked, but he didn’t answer your question but instead he kissed you deeply and motioned you towards your bedroom, making a trail of discarded clothes on the floor.

And once you landed on your bed, Jaehyun immediately went on top of you and kissed your neck, all the way down to the valley between your boobs while kneading them and sucking them. His breathing was heavy and you quickly noticed it. You wanted to make him stop and make him talk, but you’re too late.

He already spread your legs wide and positioned himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you so handsomely as he starts touching your pussy with his thumb. Up and down he makes you wet and sensitive, not to mention he was really gentle and slow. At first you thought he was going to fuck you already, but to you surprise he put his two fingers inside you and came closer to you again, to suck your nipples and bite them softly until he’s satisfied.

Swollen and sensitive, that’s how he left your nipples and starts lining his cock on your entrance, slowly pushing in his cock. “Fuck” he comments with a grunt. Putting every inch of his thick and veiny cock inside of you, moving his hips slowly. His head rests on the crook of you neck, his breath tickling you but all you can do now is moan.

Moan and keep him close with your arms wrapped around his frame. And when you whispered “I love you, Jaehyun” that instantly melted his heart and fucked you even more deliciously. But he also wished you didn’t say it to him because now he knows your love is not real. Cafe resonance put you in a spell and only your true love can break it.

He got up from his comfort close to your body and got a hold on your hips, slightly lifting it so he could fuck you harder and so he could see your boobs bounce up and down, grip it whenever he wants to, pinch it whenever he wants to and suck it whenever he wants to.

Suddenly, he pulled out completely only to push back in a little harsher that your head hit the head board. He did it again. Making you hiss with the stretch from your cunt, but the pleasure is driving you insane. He then started to lick your neck and chest, pinning your arms on your side while he fucks you harder. Your moans became louder and you started gripping the sheets and just stop fighting the feeling, and accepting the intensity of every thrust Jaehyun gives you.

“Why are you so rough tonight?” You asked with ragged breaths, toes started curling, and you begged him to go slower because you don’t want to cum yet but he didn’t listen.

He made you cum for the first time tonight and it wasn’t anything you’ve ever had before. You gripped the pillow so tight, moaned his name weakly, and let you shiver and curl beneath him while his hands still roams around your body, his cock still inside you and he hasn’t cum yet, a sign that he is not yet done with you.

Little did you know, he’s scanning every inch of you, engraving your beauty while you’re naked in his mind. For this is your last night together.

“I wanted to talk-“

Jaehyun started talking but to his surprise you voluntarily move your hips and started fucking yourself. He was sure he made you weak already and fucked you hard, how is possible that you still wanted to go for another round? But he wasn’t complaining, in fact he loves the image of you fucking yourself and using him to go off.

“That’s right baby, fuck me. Go deeper” and so you followed what he wanted, after all you’re not doing this for your own pleasure, you’re doing this because you wanted him to cum too.

With widely spread legs and bouncing tits, you moved your hips up and down while Jaehyun is kneeling in between your legs and you have a complete view of Jaehyun’s fucked out face. Eyebrows furrowing, parted swollen pink lips, chanting your name over and over again and telling you how much he loves what he’s seeing and feeling.

“Oh fuck Y/n, you feel so good”

“Fuck baby”

“Go slower, I don’t want to cum yet-“

But you didn’t gave into his request simply because he didn’t go slow earlier with you. So you moved your hips faster, up and down and put on a show for him by kneading your boobs in front of him and pinching your sensitive nipples to make yourself clench around him.

In a matter of seconds, Jaehyun’s hands are around your rib, perfectly placed under your boobs, and your legs are folded so he could go deeper. He took over until he’s finally shooting his warm, thick cum inside you. Satisfied for what you’ve done to him because he landed on top of your body, so weak and his legs are still shaking.

Too tired to clean the cum dripping from your hole, too comfortable in Jaehyun’s arms and presence that you never want to let go.

On the next day, you woke up quite late and you’re all alone in your cold bed. Though you’re completely cleaned and dressed, maybe Jaehyun took care of you last night before he leaves.

Scanning your apartment for something Jaehyun left, a small note or a flower placed somewhere... but you didn’t find anything. He usually leaves with a promise of seeing together again. Maybe he forgot?

When Jaehyun found out the truth about that Valentine cookie, he immediately hated himself for giving it to you and being the root of his heartbreak right now. He needs to fix this by looking for someone that will love you despite still having his effect on you. He’s positive that once your true love showed up, you will completely forget and move on from him.

It’s weird how this year, all you did was feel an unexplainable pain in your chest. A year full of pain and you dont know where your heartbreak is coming. Not to mention, Jaehyun hasn’t been making you feel his presence lately. That’s why you feel so lonely.

6 months have already passed since the last time that you saw him. And suitors always comes in the way, and you wonder how and why because you knew Jaehyun would get rid of them.

And as months passes by, you continue to fool yourself and still believe that Jaehyun will come back to you. Even tho you felt nothing from his presence the whole year.

Until finally, you received a note from him on Valentine’s day 2022.

Go to Cafe Resonance tonight -JH

And so you did, with a big smile on your face and with a new dress you bought specifically for this occasion. You waited for his arrival, looking at your watch every minute... but he never came. Instead, he sent you another note given bu the manager of Cafe Resonance.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” Manager Chenle said handling you the note that contains the saddest news you’ve ever received.

But just before you could open the note, someone sat in front of you and asked permission to share the table with you because everywhere else is full.

“Yes its fine,” you said without even looking at him and proceed to minding your own business. Reading Jaehyun’s last note to you that says.

He is a good man, full of love and has a heart of gold. He is the one destined for you, not me. The love I can give to you, has no match to what he can give to you. I’m sorry.

“By the way I’m Johnny”

The man reached out his hand for you to shake, smiling so handsomely at you. It’s weird how your heart instantly skipped a beat. Jaehyun how could you do this to me.

a/n: this is the first installment(?) of the Nori brain rot from ages ago w/a Studio Ghibli vibe, idk man this just happened word count: 2.2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, possible spoilers, blood, violence, cursing(?), heavily Hoizer inspired, kinda edited character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt ll

Curses stank. 

In a metaphorical sense yes. But also in a literal sense for you. 

These twisted beings permeated your senses like a rot that you could never rid. Unless exorcised they stuck around in your nostril for days. Each one a different smell but all of them stuck in your craw all the same. 

Beasts of rancid nature in behaviors and looks. Nothing more than to be exorcised by sorcerers. You learned quickly that exorcising the curses was no different than taking out week old trash. 

What you hadn’t planned on was someone doing more than dumping trash on the world. Whatever had happened. Suddenly you were faced with more than just dutiful tasks of keeping non sorcerers safe. A monsoon of trash had been dumped not only on you. But every human in this world. 

Your nostrils burned. And you couldn’t be rid of these things quick enough. Each one you exorcised only meant two or three popped up in their place. Never ending. You couldn’t stomach this smell though. It wouldn’t kill you before you got a breath of fresh air.

Glancing around you take a deep breath. Mountain air on the outskirts of Kyoto during this time of year always meant a refreshing break from the city stank. What you smelled wasn’t refreshing. It was that same vile smell you could clearly recall. 

A curse. One that was close too.

To thread carefully was to perhaps save your life. Every aspect of daily life ripped from you. As well of millions of others. You had done your part to try and protect those around you. Soon finding it in slight vain as you sought out some place to find your own breath of fresh air in this madness. 

‘It’s close....I feel like I’m gonna hurl.’ Thoughts toying with where the curse might have hidden itself. You keep a firm grip on your hilt with every intent to draw it the second the creature made the mistake of slipping up. 

Where you could smell it lurking. There was something else. Almost metallic in scent. You ignored it though. Nothing over powered the scent of a curse. You longed for just the sight of these things. Told over and over again how handy it was to have more than one sense open to curses. Each and every time you took a whiff of one, it made you wish nothing more than to just be able to see these creatures instead of smell them as well.

‘Wait-’ Every alarm in your body went off. Snapping around you couldn’t smell the rancid putridness of the curse anymore. That same metallic scent hung around though. You couldn’t identify it. It was something you’d never smelt before but also so familiar. 

Each hair on the back of your neck rose. This was an old deserted Buddhist temple. No one should have been here except you and the curse ransacking the place. A safe haven or so you thought. When your instinct told you to step behind one of the structural beams. You were suddenly glad you did.

Mere inches from your face, the gust of an arrow whistled past you. Weapons were not used by curses. Now you understood. That smell was human.

Quick to defend yourself, with sword drawn, you didn’t expect the same arrow to make a hard one eighty back in the direction you were. No wooden pillar to save you now. You raise your sword just quick enough to sheer the object in half. Rendering what ever power it was imbued with useless. As it had sped past you though the faint smell of iron suddenly became strong. Whatever it was from had a source. Likely human.

Not ready to give up your ideal hiding place to some interloper. You take only a second to focus on the unfamiliar smell. Faint. And not like a curse. There was something towards the back of the temple though that hinted that they were lurking where you couldn’t see them.

With an idea of where the attack would come from. When another arrow came flying by you from a faceless source, you were ready. Smacking it down before the enchanted weapon could turn on you like the first had. This time though you’d seen what angle the projectile was fired from.

‘Gotcha,’ No shortage of ways around a deteriorated temple like this. You duck down through a few broken beams and make your way up to where the attack came from. 

Expecting to have but a lowly sniper sitting with no way to guard themselves. You find no one. But the scent lingered. Scrutinizing it closer you decided maybe to use a different sense, “...Hey, I know you’re not a curse! Neither am I! Maybe if you just-” Words cut off by another arrow whizzing past you. There was nothing ruder than being interrupted. Glowering in the direction that the arrow came from now you tightened you grip on your sword, “Ok! I get it- Strangers we might not-”

Another arrow. This time too close to your head for comfort. You lost your patience with the third one. 

Recklessly charging towards the assailant was clearly enough to throw their game off track. Swinging your weapon before seeing what it was to lie before you. It was a surprise when your blade met with the dull thud of the wooden limb of a bow. 

“What the-” You attack deflected for the moment being. Your first instinct is to jump back from whoever deflected your attack. In close enough range you thought you had the upper hand to avoid the bow. But that was purely lazy thinking on your part as the cause of the stank of iron became clear.

“Slicing exorcism!” This nobody who reeked of iron shot what looked to be a shuriken made of blood at you. 

No time to be disgusted. An overwhelming scent of blood made it apparent what you’d been smelling. It wasn’t a simple metal. It was blood.

“Oh- Oh!” You raise your blade up in the nick of time to just get the splatter of cold liquid on your cheeks. Disgusted in passing you have no time to dwell as the stranger before you makes to dart away. With their head of dark hair in your line of sight, you weren’t ready to try and re-find them once again in this maze of debris.

Lurching forward you feel the upper hand stall when they stopped your attack once more with the brute of their bow. Clear view of them now. The man who’d clearly fired the arrows was all but composed when shaking off your attack. No way to not suspect another sorcerer caught up in this giant trash heap of curse attacks. You still have no time to play nice when they hurl another blood conjured weapon at you.

In such suddenness you are less lucky than you have been. This one catching your cheek and causing a sting to spread throughout the skin of your face. Fed up with this game you don’t care if he’s a sorcerer or not. This was a one for all situation now that you intended to win.

Firm foot hold found. You realize the man has cornered himself at this point. Range attacks out of the question. Undoubtedly giving you the upper hand now. With a hefty swing of your sword and the first time you’d channeled any energy into at all. You bring it down like a guillotine. Ready to strike flesh. Instead the snap of the bow is your first sign of an upper hand. 

All but trash the man throws it aside but too slowly. You’re on him before the range attacker can pull that weird blood trick again. Slight intent to kill as if he were a curse. You swipe your foot down and knock him down to the temple floor with a hard thud.

You waste no time between the moment his head hit the ground and your above him. Tip of your blade pressed to his neck. One breath too deep from him and the sharp tip would pierce his pale skin. Eyes fixated down on him you realize in the moments after your adrenaline fades that he’s staring right up at you.

Sharp tongue your words come out curt only to be interruped right away, “Who are-”

“Another sorcerer-” His eyes open from the slits they’d remained in the skirmish, “What are you doing here? How did you-”

“I get to ask the questions!” You snarl, jabbing his throat with your sword just enough to watch a crimson bead peak from under the tip of your weapon, “You attacked me, what are you doing up here? Why were you-”

“...you’re so pretty-” Suddenly his eyes open wide realizing what he said, “Wait I didn’t-”

“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat out!” Your sword pressing uncomfortably into the side of his neck now, “I asked you a question! Why are you up here!?”

“Kamo-”

“What? What are you-”

“Kamo family!” He quickly sputtered, “Head of the Kamo family!”

The name rang a bell somewhere in your frazzled brain.

“I’m the head-” He suddenly registered really the blade to his neck, “I’m looking for stragglers-”

“In an abandoned temple?” You weren’t buying it. 

“My people live just down the hill,” He spoke earnestly, “I had to keep the stragglers safe when the curses released from their seals in the keep. Some where up here but-”

“I killed them,” You glared down at him, “I killed all but the one you shot. How long were you up here? Were you following me?”

A shake of his head even as he stared at the glimmer of your sword, “No. I was looking for anyone who came up here. I didn’t expect to find another sorcerer. I felt your cursed energy and assumed you were a curse.”

Eyes narrowing you didn’t like the sound of something so simple to this pretty face, “...I don’t believe you. Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now or else-”

“Noritoshi-” He blurted out, “Noritoshi Kamo. Head of the Kamo family. I can give you some place safe to stay. I don’t understand what’s going on but-”

You lift the blade from his throat. Something about the diligent tone in his voice. Like he’d introduced himself like that a million times. You could kill him but it seemed a waste. Weapon retracted but no offer to help him up. You stand above him with a confounded glare, “...do you know what’s happening?”

His head shook and your stomach dropped. Noritoshi didn’t get up. Only propping himself up slightly when he realized the back of his head was thumping from the impact, “....A special grade curse released a powerful seal in Shibuya about two weeks ago...I saw but....” His face became somber and he shook his head once again, “...I don’t know what’s been going on. I just know things are in disarray and it’s my duty to protect my people.”

Once more you were skeptical but with how little rest you’d gotten in the past few days due to the tremendous increase in curses. This man’s words seemed as solid as any other theory you’d heard. More so than the plea of non sorcerer’s you listened to day in and day out about the end of times. 

“...Has the Jujutsu elders said anything?” You step off him completely. If he was speaking the truth maybe he knew what was going on as an actual heir to one of the clans.

Noritoshi looked up at you a moment longer, “No...there’s been a wide emergency notice to do what you can but our numbers....” He grew quiet, “...as many sorcerers seem to be dying as the rest of Japan.”

Perhaps the end of times were coming. You grip your sword hilt tight and take a deep breath, “....seems a angel of death is coming then whether we like it or not.”

“You’re a sorcerer.” He began to get to his feet, “Please, come with me. If anything to stay away from here. There is a grave yard on the other side of the thicket. More curses will come. No one should be here even as a sorcerer yourself.”

First hand you’d seen the influx he spoke of. From every direction. While out of the city provided some safety you knew that this place left you as vulnerable as any other if you stayed alone. With no words to be spoken of from the elders. And an age of curses threatening to crowd out humans. Like a trash pile reaching it’s capacity. You didn’t see much choice in this one.

“...I will kill you if I find out you’re lying to me.” Voice firm without breaking eye contact with him as you sheath your sword, “I smell one curse in this safe space of yours and I’ll-”

“Kill me, yes,” Noritoshi nodded with both busted ends of his bow in his hands as he looked on at you, “I am not lying but if you see fit, I’ll accept you as my angel of death then.”

a/n: I have one wine cooler in me as I finish this. This might be a multi part if the inspiration finds me. Anyways, um, yeah! This is an old idea coming so pls let me know if you liked it!

New Beginnings For Late Bloomers

Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Word Count: 2.4k)

You answered the Wakandan prince and princess’ call almost immediately. You quietly and swiftly made your way from your room, taking the familiar route south to the lab.

King T’Chaka’s death was so recent that his presence was still very much felt around the palace. Everyone, of all ranks, collectively mourning the loss. As you passed through the halls, you thought of his children—you couldn’t imagine losing your father, especially in such a jarring way. You bristled before turning the corner, bracing yourself for whatever was on the other side.

A pale skinned, dark haired man appeared to be sleeping in a large tube. Beside it, Prince T’Challa and Princess Shuri were in deep conversation with another white man, this one blonde. He stood opposite them and face to face with you.

You weren’t one for rudeness, but you had never seen a white man in person before, and it was strange. You found yourself switching back and forth between the and his sleeping friend. The first and second white men you had seen up close. They both had white skin tinged with pink, and their hair really was bone straight. The blonde gave you a warm smile, maintaining a slight recline and dropped shoulders.

You weren’t very good at interrupting or with strangers; your shyness was a terrible hindrance, and it was a wonder you even had friends in the royal family. The stranger’s reaction saved you the trouble, causing both siblings to do the same. Immediately, your eyes drifted the man in the tube, lightly pressing your fingers on the glass.

T’Challa cleared his throat and gestured at the blonde, “Y/N, this is Captain Rogers.”

You nodded at him and followed his downward gaze––to the other white man. Because you were closer, you could see his breath fog up the glass in front of his nose.

“We need you to watch over Sergeant Barnes while he is within our borders,” Shuri said. Though he looked relatively peaceful, what this Sergeant Barnes was like when he was awake must be hard.

“Your daily tasks will be to tend to him.” T'Challa explained.

Your gaze softened when you glanced at Captain Rogers. His concern was plain to see, enough to make you muster up whatever courage you had to speak.

“I will do as I am asked. Sergeant Barnes will be well cared for during his time here.” You replied. You gave him a small smile.

The man nodded at your reassurance, and you excused yourself. You had a lot of work ahead of you.

…

The sound of giggling and shuffling feet took you out of your reverie.

You were greeted to the sight of children laughing and chasing each other on the river bank. You smiled at their antics, but had to shoo them away. They were playing outside of Sergeant Barnes’—erm, Bucky’s hut while he was sleeping. You noticed how little the man allowed his body to rest, and you did your best to prolong it.

You knew the kids had broken his sleep, so you entered his hut, anyway. As you expected, the man was on his back looking at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Please, try and go back to sleep,” you whispered, averting your gaze.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head back on his bed. You took the opportunity to light an incense on the outer edge of the hut while you went about your daily tasks. It was the one that usually lulled him back to sleep, but Bucky was wide awake.

You occupied yourself with menial work in an effort to ignore his eyes on you. You were taking out an old blanket but when you touched the other side, you felt a thick, runny liquid. The harsh smell of iron hit your nostrils almost immediately.

Blood.

“I had another one after you left.” A raspy voice called from behind you.

You quickly wrapped the blanket in your arms, doing your best to hide the sight. Bucky was sitting up; he may have been looking at you, but his eyes were much farther away. The color wasn’t familiar to you, but the distant sadness in them was. You could see fresh scratches poking out from his tunic and the slight grimace on his face.

Gently, you set the blanket back down and grabbed the tin of shea butter from your supply bag. You unscrewed the cap and scooped the product out. You made your way to his bed, sitting on your knees beside him.

You pulled the cloth down to reveal the familiar nub where his arm used to be.

“Your head therapy with Dr. Amari has been switched to Tuesdays and Thursdays, for now. Shuri needs time to grieve the king and the mind must come before the body, in your case. ” You said softly, applying the shea butter evenly and without fanfare.

Bucky was leaning away from you, but he nodded nonetheless. You never had to yell or shout to get his attention––he always heard you, no matter how quiet you were.

When you were done, Bucky offered you a tired smile, but you couldn’t return it. You felt your face get hot and averted your gaze. It was different when you had nothing more to do, and he was just staring at you.

“I will get you new bedding and clothing when I return.”

You darted out of the hut as fast as you could, only stopping to let out the breath you had been holding.

…

“I don’t know if your treatment is working, Shuri.”

The princess was busy working on a new project. With heavy protective goggles on, and a wicked grin, there was no telling what she was up to. Carefully, Shuri shut the lid on it, and spun towards you.

You held up the bloody fabric, and Shuri frowned.

“Ah, Y/N, Sergeant Barnes’ brain will take more work than his body.” She said, scanning the blanket.

“He claws at himself while he sleeps.” You replied. The memories of his episodes were so clear in your mind. For a man who was fairly quiet and calm, in those moments he was mechanical and unflinchingly cruel. It was the first time a cold feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and it was truly awful.

Shuri was periodically glancing up at you as she read Bucky’s file. The farther she read, the more the princess looked puzzled. She clicked her tongue, then suddenly clapped loudly. The sound made you jump.

“Shuri!” You hissed. The girl was bouncing on the balls of her feet, animatedly. An especially devious smirk made its way onto her face.

“He is from New York City, ah! The city where dreams are made of!” She sang. Her off key version made you cringe at first, but a smile soon replaced it.

The Wakandan princess’s bubbly mood was the thing you enjoyed most about her. She was always so excited to explore and plot anything she wanted; it was refreshing to see.

“Take Sergeant Barnes to the market! It is a city environment to remind him of home.” Shuri exclaimed wildly.

Your eyes widened in horror at her suggestion. Shuri lit up, her ideas kept coming.

“He needs you to go with him. It can be a date!” You nearly choked.

“Princess Shuri!” You cried out. It was actually more of a high pitched squeak.

You gazed down at the blanket. It’s rich brown color was tinged with a darker one. The sickly smell of blood—Bucky’s blood—still invaded your senses. Your job was to care for him while he was in your country’s custody.

You sighed and agreed.

…

Bucky knew something was wrong the second you found the blanket.

The slight downturn of your chin as the realization dawned on you—he should’ve buried it when he had the chance.

The scratches were deep this time, but Bucky healed fast. It had been just over eleven hours since they happened. He had since changed into new clothes, so as to spare you from seeing the gashes, but he didn’t have the tools to get rid of the blood on hand.

Bucky heard your approaching steps, and went out to greet you. It was the height of the late afternoon heat; the dark haired man could see you approach through the vapors.

He knew it had been a long time since he’d been around a woman as Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. That was the exact reason why he wasn’t used to how you looked then. Your deep brown skin glowed as you came closer. A gold armband sat on your upper left arm, shining in the sunlight. You had on a green two-piece, decorated in bright Wakandan prints.

Bucky missed his phantom limb during times like this. It meant he was still capable of being the smooth, confident guy from Brooklyn and not the mess he truly was. He shifted his weight, bracing himself for your arrival.

…

“Would you like to come with me to the market?” You asked.

You wouldn’t look up at him for more than a second, but you did sit near him during the escort over. On his left side, too.

Once you two made it to the market entrance, it was in full swing. Hundreds of people were mingling through the stalls. A woman was haggling a tailor for a shoddy job he’d done. The smell of spices and roots hung in the air.

You snuck a glance at Bucky, giggling at the curious stares he received. And what a strange sight he was—a very white man in Wakanda. It was unheard of.

“I was told you were from New York City. Manhattan?” You said.

Bucky turned to you, mildly offended.

“Brooklyn, doll. Real different.” He said. You watched him inhale, taking in the bustling vendors and patrons.

You put a slight pressure on his shoulder, leading him to a street show. The performance was fun and free as the drummers played their sing song rhythms. Even you felt the urge to sway your hips to the beat.

A crowd had gathered, stomping and clapping as they went along, growing more boisterous as the dancers went on. Lost in the moment, you failed to notice Bucky’s balled fists and his blank stare. The only reason you did, was because in the middle of your small dance, you bumped into a hard body. The way you bounced off of him jostled you back to reality.

You got him some water, pouring it on your hand and then on his forehead. The cold shock worked, but with it came those scared, disoriented eyes. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t try and steer the big man any direction. You never could, Bucky was just kind enough to oblige most times. This time, he seemed so splintered, he followed without protest.

You led Bucky into an empty alleyway.

“I’m sorry. Please, let me take you back.” You said, apologetically.

You thought it would help him, not this. You leaned back on the wall opposite to him, waiting for Bucky to decide what to do. Slowly, heavy breathing subsided and he lifted his head from the ground.

“I don’t want you to think I didn’t like it. I did. But the people and the sounds and the—I know I was raised in a big city, but it’s been a long time since then.” Bucky said, finally.

He met your concerned gaze and almost looked relieved. The man stood up to his full height in one swift motion.

“I don’t think I like them anymore.” He admitted in a low, gravelly voice.

Your heart sank at his omission. Bucky had no idea who he was anymore, or what made him happy. He needed some peace that didn’t come from his place at the river, that was too familiar.

“I know a place you might enjoy, but it will take time to get there.”

Bucky had complete faith in you, and nodded imperceptibly.

…

It was a quiet ride up the mound.

By now, it was nearing dusk. The sky was a vibrant mix of purples and oranges and reds. Bucky hadn’t spoken again, and you hadn’t pressed him.

“It’s an undeveloped hot spring, Prince T’Challa and I found it together as children. No one will bother us here.”

You stalked through the heavy foliage with a clear head, muscle memory guiding the way to the cave. You were very aware of Bucky’s silent presence behind you. He navigated the vegetation with ease, carrying the food and water in a basket.

You huffed just taking the towels and blanket, and he looked unfazed. The both of you finally reached the mouth of the cave as soon as the last rays of sunlight faded. You watched as Bucky’s face darkened in the dim light.

“There are lights on the far end, vibranium powered so they will last.” You said. Bucky had far better sight than you, and he successfully found and turned them on.

He pointed the bright light toward the cave ceiling, setting off a series of shadows and patterns above you. You smiled softly, satisfied with your work. Bucky was still shook up from the market, but once he stepped into the hot spring he physically seemed more comfortable.

“Don’t stay in too long, it could be dangerous,” you warned him. A blast of warm air hit you, and you laid down on the blanket.

“Got it.” Bucky replied.

Occasionally, you heard the sound of water sloshing around, but you were too lazy to turn your head. There was no one around for miles to interrupt the calm, so you finally closed your eyes.

You heard water streaming to the cave floor as Bucky drew nearer. You thought nothing of it, until you felt warm, sopping wet hands wrap around you. You gasped the intrusion—if you hadn’t known who it was you would’ve screamed.

Bucky pulled you into him. Your face rested on his bare chest, catching the heat emanating from his warm skin. You didn’t have time to freak out.

What he did next wasn’t quite like a cry. The noise was so soft you thought you misheard it at first. It was a strangled, ghost of a sob.

“I-I can’t stop saying I don’t know.”

Bucky clung to you, letting all of his frustration and pain roll off him in waves. You took your cheek off his chest, the warm water leaving your face hotter than normal.

You stopped Bucky before he could recoil—gripping his shoulder.

“Horrific things happened to you Bucky, and I am sorry for that,” you started, staring off at the hot spring behind him. Steam rolled off its surface and wafted upwards and into nothing.

“You are rebuilding yourself and that is alright.”

Bucky peered down at you with a hardened kind of fascination. His eyes raked over you and he broke out in a grateful smile. A true smile.

“Thank you.”

He paused as he regarded you, dropping his shoulders.

“Doll? Can I kiss you?” The request sent you toppling over on the inside. You swallowed hard.

“Why?” Your voice was small. It was the cost to stare Bucky in the eyes while you asked. He needed to see how dead serious you were. You could be fragile, too. You blinked rapidly in anticipation, trying to concentrate over the roar of blood rushing through your veins.

“You never asked me to be someone, now I can be someone else.”

Your jaw dropped. You mustered all the courage you had and met his lips. The kiss was hesitant and soft. There were no expectations, just a sweet moment for two people that needed more of them.

Kitchen Romance

➜ Words: 11.1k

➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Chef!AU

➜ Summary: You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors' ancestors were matchmakers and it's all because of a special, inborn gift. A gift that allows you to see each person's fated ones above their heads. But it's not so much a gift when one day, your boss walks in with YOU above him.

cr.

The kitchen is in chaos.

The heat swelters in the still air, stifling with the summer warmth that’s forced most people indoors with air conditioning. But here, there’s no such privilege. Not when open fires on frying pans were at every stovetop and grease was splattering everyone like a water fountain show. You feel yourself being roasted alive, a layer of oil sitting on top of your skin, and there’s barely a moment to wipe away the sweat rolling from your hairline.   Your hands are wrinkled as you scrub down the nth dish from the pile that’s stacked above your head, but before you can finish, Taehyung’s desperately calling out for you. You shout back at him that you’re coming and then you’re helping him peel the potatoes.   There’s no room to complain. Especially not when—   “What is this?!”    For a moment, time itself stops.   The pandemonium halts, fire flickering, knives held mid-air. Everyone’s head has swiveled over to the dark-haired man standing at the end of the island. Kim Seokjin holds up a plate of baked salmon with methi prawns. His plump lips are pulled downwards. That’s never a good sign.   “The presentation is sloppy!” he yells and you flinch from the sheer volume of his booming voice. “Are you people blind?! We can’t serve this! It’s an embarrassment! Do it again!”   “Yes, chef!”    Everyone apologizes, including you, and Seokjin huffs, moving out of the kitchen.   Namjoon, sous-chef, shakes his head. “Focus! Dinner service hasn't even begun yet!”   Luckily, everyone’s on edge and meticulous enough with Seokjin walking around and scrutinizing every action that the rest of the night goes off without another hitch. By the end, you’re finishing up on cleaning and washing the dishes.   “Good night, Y/N.” Jihyo waves, bag strap slung on her shoulder.   “See you.” You muster a smile while you keep scrubbing. “Bye.”    “Night,” Yoongi says while Taehyung fixes you a grin. You watch them leave and then focus on completing the rest of your tasks. It’s not long before you’re switching all the lights off and changing from your uniform.    The walk back to your apartment proves to be excruciating. You’re beyond exhausted, lugging your legs along to carry the rest of your body while forcing your eyes to remain open, so you can at least see where you’re going.    When the door opens, you immediately jump into the shower to wash off the grime, nearly falling asleep in the process. By the time you flop onto your bed, your hair is still dripping wet, but as your muscles ease into the mattress, you’re knocked out into a deep slumber.   Rest is merely a blink of time.   The alarm on your phone is blaring before you can dream or feel even remotely refreshed. It’s deafening to your ears and you reach over to shut it off. Finding the sun already up in the sky, you force yourself to sit up, get ready, grab breakfast and eat on your way to work.   “If it’s too hard, you should come home,” the voice on the other side of the line coaxes. “Your dad and I are so worried about you sometimes.”   “I’m fine, mom.” You’re chewing in your cheek, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder as you parade down the block. “Trust me.”   “Have you at least been eating well?”   You glance at the granola bar in hand. “Yeah. Sort of.”   “The city is scary. There’s no shame in coming home, dear. Your grandma misses you a lot. She always asks about you.”   “I’m fine, mom,” you reassure her for the second time. “I really am. And tell grandma—”   Accidentally, your shoulder collides with a businessman’s. Apologies spring from you, but rather than looking at the stranger like you should be, your eyes unintentionally wander above his head. To the cloud of fog. And a woman’s smiling face you see emerge from it.   The man’s brows lift at how you’re staring into space and he moves out of the way.   You’re forced out of your trance and you continue to apologize until he’s completely gone from sight. You damn yourself for not being more careful.   You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors’ ancestors were matchmakers.    Your mother once told you that back in the day, some peasants in your family couldn’t sew, sell or do any labour, so they begged heavens and out of pity, they were granted a small gift. A gift that’s been passed down to every generation since. While you’re not sure if the story is true or not, what’s certain is that from the moment you were born, you could see a cloud of fog above everyone’s head. It’s like speech bubbles or thought bubbles in comic strips. But instead of words, the fog comes with another person’s face. It’s the one who they’re meant to be with.   Ironically enough, you’ve never seen one above your own head. Though you’ve come to accept that. Romance will never be a major aspect of your life, so you’ve switched gears into focusing on your career and finding fulfillment elsewhere. You also knew early on that you didn’t want to be a matchmaker like the rest of your family.   You want to be a—   “Good morning, chef.”   “Good morning.” Namjoon nods with a smile. “Things weren’t too bad yesterday, but let’s try to be less sloppy for dinner service tonight. Hoseok, what time is the shipment of seafood coming in?”   Namjoon continues going through the daily routine, updating each person on the schedule and the shipments. But it’s not long during the morning meeting in the kitchen that the back door creaking can be heard.    Instantly, everything comes to a halt. Everyone turns themselves and greets the head chef simultaneously.    Seokjin rounds the corner. “We have a lot to do today, people. Tonight’s special is going to be watermelon with smoked salmon mousse—”   You gasp.   Automatically, your hands lift to cover your mouth, yet too late to muffle the loud noise. Your eyes are as large as saucers. Your heart stutters in your chest, nearly giving out.   Instead of the polished brunette woman above Seokjin’s head that was always there, you see someone else. Someone very familiar that you’ve seen in the mirror a thousand times. You.   You’re frozen — palms clammy, knees weak. And everyone’s turned around to stare, even Kim Seokjin himself. His brow is cocked and he eyes you intensely for daring to interrupt him.   “Are you okay?” Jihyo whispers, leaning in and nudging you with her elbow.   You start to breathe again, frantically. Yet no matter how much you gasp for air, you can’t feel the oxygen entering your lungs. But you force yourself to bow your head anyway, retaining an exterior that’s not oozing of sheer panic. “S-S-Sor..ry. I…. have something in my throat.” You clear it and Seokjin sighs, continuing with what he was saying.   The first task is to wash the salad and it’s easy enough, but your eyes continue to wander up to the dark-haired, doe-eyed man from across the kitchen. Black shirt with a white apron around his waist, he emanates intimidation from his god-like looks alone and constant frown.   Your eyes connect and you instantaneously whip yourself around.   You start to sweat when Seokjin beelines to you.   “Do you have an issue with me?”   You shake your head furiously.   “Then focus!” the man spits. “You’re drowning the salad!”   You wince as he slams the faucet down.   This can’t be. This can’t be it. It doesn’t make sense whatsoever.   On your break, you’re crouched over by the bathrooms and much to your dismay, your mom is hysterically laughing at you. “Just because you never saw your match, doesn’t mean you’re alone, Y/N! Poor soul, where did you ever get that idea from? No one can see their own. I didn’t and neither did your aunt or grandma.”   “Why didn’t you tell me that?” The syllables hiss out of you and you spare a glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s coming.    You’ve come to accept that you would never be romantically involved with anyone. To find out that Seokjin, your boss, is your match out of everyone, it’s taking you for a hysteric spin.   “I thought you already knew!” she exclaims on the other line. “Plus, nothing comes from knowing your own. But who is it? Are you going to bring them home? I would love to know what sort of person is going to end up with my dear daughter. Oh, your grandma will be so excited to hear the news!” “Now’s not the time, mom,” you grieve, palm pressed to your forehead. There’s an overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m never going to end up with him.”   “You can’t change fate, Y/N.”   “Fate changes all the time.”   “Are you okay?” There’s a lower voice behind you and you flinch, turning around to see Hoseok’s alarmed expression.    You stand up, apologizing internally as you hang up on your mom. “Sorry. It...was a family emergency. But everything’s fine.”   “Okay. Well, Namjoon wants you to grab some more flour from the storage room.”   “I’ll be right on it.”    You swiftly return back to work before you risk losing your job any more than you have today. But all the while, you damn yourself. This is the worst thing that could’ve happened.    You ending up with Kim Seokjin, the scary boss that notoriously fires people in your position, is the last thing you wanted to occur. It’s like you’re living in a nightmare where you’re the only one who’s aware of your own dire circumstances and inevitable doom.   //   “Would it be that bad if he fell in love with you?” Hyoyeon eyes you lazily from across the table as she stirs her drink with her straw. She’s one of your oldest friends who happen to live in the city and one of the few who knows about your gift.   “Yes. It would be that bad!” You’re exasperated. You thought she would be up and arms about it like you are. “How could I ever look at my boss like that?!”   “You never know,” Hyoyeon sing-songs much to your chagrin.   “Don’t give me that. How would you like it if your boss fell in love with you?”   “My boss is a Karen going into her sixties.”   “Exactly.”   Her lips pop off her straw, wearing a visage of distaste. “This and that aren’t the same, Y/N. I didn’t think Soobin would be with me and when you told me, I was mad. But look at us now! He’s not half bad.”   “You’re married.”   “Precisely.” She laughs, practically glowing from happiness. “And you know, Seokjin isn’t bad either. He’s like what? Only a few years older than you. Ambitious. Wealthy. Handsome. He did that one photoshoot for that magazine and he was so goddamn handsome. Like holy fuck, I almost got pregnant from just—”   “Alright. I get it.”   “—and he’s like one of the top chefs of the country. Imagine having that kind of food for the rest of your life.”   “That’s not going to happen,” you mumble. If it changed once, it can change again.   The more you think about it, the more assured you become. You’ll do everything in your power to change it.   //   The kitchen has fallen into a lull.    Jihyo, the pantry chef, works on tossing salads while the butcher chef, Yoongi, is filleting fresh tuna. Sauté chef Hoseok is preparing his piccata sauce while you help Taehyung, the entremetier, with ingredients for the soup. Everyone has their designated roles here, most of which are fancier than yours. As a kitchen assistant, if you aren’t helping Taehyung then you’re washing dishes. But everyone needed to start from somewhere, so you aren’t going to complain. Working for Kim Seokjin is a privilege, albeit, he’s fearsome and hard to please.   You clear your throat. “Has...anyone seen that woman lately?”   Taehyung turns his head. “Who?”   “That woman came to the restaurant a few times and was with Chef Kim....”    A petite and dainty physique. Long, dark hair. Her eyes glimmered in the light and her pinked lips pulled softly when she greeted you all. She was poised, oozed of grace, sophistication, money. And she was the one who you saw above Seokjin’s head since you met him. Hell, you saw him above her head, and while you were surprised that in spite of his scariness, he actually had someone, they strangely suited each other well.   They were supposed to be together.    Until recently.   You wonder what happened. What the change was. Why you’re suddenly his match now.   Jihyo turns around, ears perked from the conversation. “Right! I haven’t seen her around lately either! I wondered if something happened.”   “You mean Kim Jisoo?” Yoongi lolls his head to the side and when Taehyung gives a curious expression as to how he knows, he says, “Hoseok and I were sent to her flower shop to pick up an order once.”   “Were they even dating?” Taehyung asks, looking up from where he’s chopping cucumbers.   “They were,” Namjoon pipes up and you look towards him, having expected him to shut down the conversation around the head chef, but he merely smiles. “But I haven’t seen her recently either.”   Jihyo hums. “I wonder if something happened.”   “Maybe they broke up,” Yoongi offers absentmindedly.   “Well, that wouldn’t be surprising.” Taehyung pauses and looks over to you, lifting a brow as if trying to find an ally. “He seems like he can be pretty hard to get along with.” But the opinion isn’t unpopular and there are several snickers throughout the kitchen.   “Seokjin’s just serious about his work,” Hoseok says with a smile. “But they were pretty serious.”   “Really?” You turn to Namjoon directly. It’s not often that you’d be so straightforward, but you want answers. You want explanations. “Did he ever say anything to you? On what could’ve happened?”   He shakes his head and then there’s a loud boom of the backdoor. Your blood runs cold. Everyone’s eyes widen, but there’s no time to react or to take back what he could’ve heard. Seokjin walks in with his eyes narrowed in on you specifically. “If all of you have enough time to talk about my personal life, then you can work twice as hard and twice as fast tonight.”   Everyone holds in their sighs.    With your downcast head, your eyes search the floor. “I’m sorry, chef.”    But the apology falls onto deaf ears.   //   It’s a busy shift.   With your tail caught in between your legs, it’s either a cutting board in front of you with a knife in hand or plates and a rough sponge by the sink. Oil from the fryer nearby splashes onto you, the grease coating bowls staining your apron, the heat sticking your tied back hair to your scalp.    Yet you wish you could do more.    Not just chop bell peppers, finely mince garlic or prepare starches. Not just rinsing bowls to stack into the dishwasher and wash large pots and plates by hand. While you’ve become accustomed to knives, keeping a rapid and constant beat as you slice whatever is in front of you, you wish you could cook. Not just be an accessory to the kitchen. Or an extra member to assist the chefs.    But for now, you count your blessings. Humming to yourself late at night while you finish.   “What are you still doing here?”   The crystal clear voice has you flinching, startled to death and you turn around to see Kim Seokjin in the flesh. White shirt rolled to his elbows, black trousers, expensive Rolex on his wrist that could pay the rest of your student loans with. You gawk at him. Speechless. Scared.   He doesn’t wait for you to find your tongue, dismissing your silence. “Where are the others? They should be cleaning up too. Just because dinner service is over, doesn’t mean they can leave.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, no longer speaking to you but himself. “I won’t have anyone slacking in my kitchen.”   “I-It’s fine, chef.” Your voice is barely a squeak, but you muster the courage, not wanting them to get yelled at tomorrow. You turn around, quickening up your scrubbing until your nails start to hurt. “I’m supposed to be washing the dishes anyway.”   “It shouldn’t be taking you this long.”   You wonder if he’s scolding you.   It goes silent.   “Finish up and go change,” Seokjin says shortly and you nod. It takes another ten minutes for the task to be completed and then you’re wiping down the counters before heading to the lockers to change out of your apron and uniform.   Usually, you’d come out, turn off all the lights and begin the final trek home. But today, your blood runs cold. Your mouth fills with cotton when you step out. Against your own assumption, the head chef has not in fact left. Instead, Seokjin is leaning against the counter with his coat on, furiously tapping on his phone with his thick brows furrowed like they usually are.   You swallow hard and bow your head as you pass him. “Good night, chef.”   “Wait.”   Immediately, you halt. He pockets his device. “Are you walking?” The absence of an answer is enough of an indication for him. “I’ll drive you. It’s dangerous to walk home at this time of night.”   It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t an offer either. It’s a command.    And soon, you discover yourself in his expensive Mercedes. The vehicle is black, sleek and you’re afraid of touching the leather seats more than you have to in case you stain it with poverty and have him sue you for damages. Or fire you.    “Turn left,” his fancy navigation system deadpans and it startles you.    Yet Seokjin is undeterred and with one hand on the wheel, he turns at the light, allowing the car to roll smoothly over the pavement. The passing lamp posts’ glow also illuminate his features, his plump lips and the slope of his nose. If Hyoyeon was here she would be salivating at the sight, how his chin is lifted, head slightly cocked. You would be too, if you weren’t so afraid. Kim Seokjin exudes confidence and intimidation, rightfully so too. He’s worlds out of your league.   And as your eyes stray from his profile to focus on the cloud above his head, your smiling expression still emerges.   You don’t understand how someone like you can be with someone like him.   “Is there something on my face?”   His question leaking with annoyance shakes you out of your trance and you tear your eyes away from him frantically to look out the window. “N-No.”   The tense quietness that follows is enough that you want to bang your head against the dashboard and hope you get knocked out to spare you from this awkwardness. Then again, you might just end up with a bruise and his car repair bill which would be even wors—   “You won’t be seeing Jisoo anymore,” Seokjin suddenly says and your head swivels to him. “She decided to cheat on me and that was a deal breaker, so I broke it off.”   “Oh.”   “I didn’t know you were one for gossip, but go ahead and tell the others if you’d like.”   “I..I’m sorry.” Your downcast head faces your lap and you swallow hard. “It’s personal and I shouldn’t have intruded or asked. It was wrong and unprofessional of me for bringing it up.”   “No.” There’s a moment of silence as he looks straight ahead. “It was wrong of me to act the way I did.” You blink wide-eyed and Seokjin parks at the curb. “My reaction was a bit uncalled for — it’s something I’m still working on.”   You stare at him and finally, the man meets your gaze. “You can get out now.”   “O-Oh.” You scramble out the car. “T-Thank you.”   The moment the door shuts, he drives off.   Fate can be changed. It’s rare, but choices influence futures and who someone ends up with can change depending on the actions they take. You just never expected Seokjin’s reason for the change to be so heartbreaking. Even if he stated it factually and his expression never wavered, you could sense it in his voice. The sadness you didn’t know he could possess.   //   “What made you think I would like him?” Jihyo is exasperated as she wipes down the counter and Taehyung grins as he sweeps the floor. “The guy literally kept on going about rock climbing, bungee jumping and skydiving. Do I look like an adrenaline junkie to you, Kim Taehyung?”   “Hey, hey. Yeonjun is nice, okay? I just thought you would be into the rough look.”   “Not at all. This is the last time I’m letting you set me up.”   Yoongi smirks as he passes by. “I’ll take it that your blind date didn’t go well?”   Jihyo glares at him.    Hoseok turns around with an amused smile. “It was your fault with trusting Taehyung with this sort of thing. What kind of guy are you into? Maybe I could set you up with someone better.”   She sighs wistfully. “I don’t even know anymore. I just want someone reliable and half decent.”   In the meanwhile, your eyes flicker up to the cloud above her head. There’s a bright eyed young man there and you smile, unloading the dishwasher as you continue listening to their conversation.    “See? It wasn’t my fault!” Taehyung pipes up to defend himself. “How am I supposed to know what kind of person you’d be into if you don’t know yourself?”   “Oh, so you know?”   “Of course I do!” He scoffs and becomes dreamy as he muses, “I want someone with long hair and dresses fashionably, someone who’s sweet and gentle, like a puppy.”   But based on the person above him, they appear rougher around the edges with shorter hair and a frown. But you let Taehyung have it, not commenting a single word. You’ve learnt from experience that it doesn’t work well if you come out of nowhere and try to involve yourself.    They continue talking about ideals, even Namjoon that pinches in he’s been seeing someone lately — an old friend who he went to school with that he never thought of romantically until recently. You’re having fun just listening in until the question is directed at you.   “Me?” You laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know either. I haven’t really thought about it before.”   “Oh, don’t give me that.” Taehyung nudges you. “Everyone has some idea.”   But you’ve sincerely never considered it before. You always thought you would live in solitude without another companion and even came to terms with it. But things have changed. “I guess….someone kind and considerate. Thoughtful. I don’t care what they do, except that they have to be a good person.”   It might be a generic answer, but as you think about Seokjin, you know you don’t want someone domineering and frightening. Yet from last night, Seokjin didn’t seem so daunting in the car.   “Yeah, I can see that.” Jihyo nods.   “What about Chef Kim?” you ask, eyes glistening in the light, curious beyond belief. “What do you think his ideal is?”   The people around the kitchen hum, speculating over the boss’ preferences. They’re equally intrigued by the question.   “Anyone who won’t shit their pants when he’s around,” Taehyung laughs as he finishes sweeping and pours the grime from the dustpan into the trash.   As Yoongi wraps a bowl, he mindlessly offers, “He seems to like the serious type,”    “What was Jisoo like?” Jihyo asks, tapping her chin with a frown.   “Sophisticated,” Hoseok suggests and you look at him, breathing a sigh of relief. Out of all things, you were definitely not sophisticated. “Gentle.”   “Sweet,” Namjoon says with confidence, having known the man the most after years of working together, “He likes the hard-working and earnest ones who prove themselves to be more than he expects.”   As if summoning the devil himself, Kim Seokjin comes from the back area and walks straight through the kitchen. “Stop slacking,” he states in a monotone and everyone returns to their tasks with a simultaneous ‘yes, chef’.    But as he passes by you, he pauses for a moment. “Everyone needs to leave on time today. If there’s anything that isn’t clean, you need to work together so that it is.”   “Yes, chef,” sounds throughout the kitchen once more.   You know being passive won’t solve anything. You need to actively do something that will repulse him, make it so he’ll vow never to get involved with you. If he makes the decision, fate itself will change and you won’t have to end up together.    The only plausible strategy to repulse you have at the moment is to embody the reverse of what Seokjin’s ideals are. The opposite of what appeals to him — sophisticated, sweet and gentle.   //   It takes you a while to pinpoint what the exact opposite is. But you find it.    Loud. Obnoxious. Aggressive.    You need to be these things in a way that doesn’t get you fired, but just enough that it alters who his match is. Part of you isn't sure you have it in you to be this way, but it’s worth a shot. You’ll do anything to change fate.   “What the hell are you still doing in my kitchen?”   Seokjin is standing meters away, half shrouded in the darkness. Your eyes flicker up at him but you resume dicing the carrots into one inch lengths. Only half the blade is lifted off the wooden cutting board and it descends at a rapid rhythm, rather therapeutic to listen to.   There’s an urge to cower down, but you channel your aggression, pretending it’s Taehyung and not Kim Seokjin — head chef with two Michelin stars — enough money to assassinate you and cover up the crime.   “Everyone went out to have dinner together, but I came back to get a head start on prepping ingredients for tomorrow. I need the practice anyway. Why? Is it a problem?”   The man’s brow is lifted at your upfront behaviour. “Get out. I’ll drive you back.”   “I’m going to finish this first,” you retort without a breath to waste.   Seokjin scoffs and puts down the keys he just grabbed. He sighs exhaustingly and you feel his stare burning into you. It’s hard to ignore it. You even start sweating until he moves towards the fridge, and that’s when you finally steal the chance to peek at him. “Are you going to eat? I can make you something.”   “It’s fine.”   He grabs two eggs, some shredded cabbage, a handful of spinach and a stick of butter. You don’t question it, solely focusing on your task until there’s sizzling on the pan and he leaves the stove to look over you.   “Your technique is poor.”   “What?!” Your voice is loud unintentionally, but you’re wholly shocked. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your knife skills. You’ve spent countless time on refining it and getting it to meet standards.   “You could go faster,” he deadpans. “Your grip is too tense and you’re holding the knife too high up. You want to hold it at that balance point, so you have the most control over it and the weight is properly distributed.” Seokjin smoothly grabs a knife off the rack and holds it in front of you. You copy him. “It's easier to push the blade through when you're holding it there.”   “Like this?” You begin chopping again and he hums.    Against your will, a smile finds your features. It’s the first time he praised you— well...it’s less of a praise and more of a half-hearted noise of approval, but it still counts.   Seokjin takes the pan from the heat and switches it off. He grabs a fork from the drawer to start eating and you look over, finishing the job. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your blatant ogling. “Do you have an issue?”   You smile at him, stepping forward. “Can I have a bite?”   Seokjin scoffs. But you lean over and he steps aside, allowing you to nab a fork from the drawer to take some. It’s not like you’re particularly hungry, but you’re curious as to what he’s made. It’s been a long time since you’ve had food from the head chef himself and asking him for his dinner might just be off-putting enough that he’ll hate you forever. It wouldn’t be impossible considering he’s so picky. You swear, one mistake is all it takes for him to hold a grudge till the day he dies.   Yet, what you don’t expect is for the scrambled eggs to melt on your tongue. He’s sautéd the spinach, left the cabbage undercooked to add a crunch, and the eggs are fluffy in your mouth, a vivid gold that adds to the haphazard presentation. “This...this is delicious!”   He chews in his cheek. “It’s something I eat when there’s nothing in the fridge.”   You’re amazed. The fact that Kim Seokjin can’t recognize his own ingenuity is painful. “You should add this to the menu.”   He scoffs. “You think I would add scrambled eggs next to the caviar and truffle? I think you forgot this is a fine dining restaurant.”   “It’s fine,” you mumble. “I mean if it tastes good, it tastes good, right, chef?”   A tiny smile fixes at his visage, tugging his plump lip upwards. “You sure have a lot more opinions tonight.”   “Well, I’ve decided to speak my thoughts more,” you hum, scooping up another spoonful of his meal. Your eyes flicker up as you chew with your mouth wide open. “Why? Is it unattractive?”   “It’s interesting,” he says with a smile that’s more visible until he barks, “Hurry up eating so I can drive you home.”   You scoff at him as he walks away and you finish his dinner off.   //   Everyone’s on edge.   “It’s more akin to pretentious artwork without any real flavour than real food,” Hoseok reads from his phone to the entire kitchen. “Head chef, Kim Seokjin, is not far from what his cooking lacks too. A pretentious and egotistical nature, it’s no wonder his personal life is in shambles.”   Your fist tightens. Not only did the published article criticize his dishes, claiming it lost its touch and that he’s lost his roots, but they attacked his personality. His personal life. Going into detail of how his relationship was broken off unexpectedly.    “Oh shit,” Taehyung exhales.   “Was that really posted online for everyone to see?” Jihyo asks in a pitched voice, equally horrified and panicked.   Hoseok nods and before anyone can say anything, the backdoor is heard. Without prompting, everyone swiftly moves to their station, not uttering a single peep. Seokjin comes in, his expression unchanged and he deadpans the usual greeting as he moves past the kitchen.   Your face above his head hasn’t changed. But you know it’s not the time to dwell on it.   For the rest of the shift, Taehyung’s on his best behaviour and neither Jihyo nor Yoongi make snarky comments. It’s come at a cost — the morale is lower than usual. The atmosphere is tense and even Namjoon’s earnest encouragement can’t help.   Out of the corner of your eye, you can’t help but watch Seokjin. He doesn’t make mention to the article, yet by the deep furrow of his brow, you can tell he’s in a grumpy mood. It’s understandable. But you wonder why it seems like he’s less angry and more hurt.   If it were you, you’d be furious. The personal details of your life outed publicly and not only were your skills scrutinized, but your personality too.    Seokjin was cheated on and now chastised. Even if he’s resilient, it’s too much for anyone to take. It doesn’t look like he has friends to rely on either.   “Are you coming, Y/N?” Jihyo asks, turning around as you linger behind her. The restaurant’s lights are turned off, the kitchen long cleaned and your clothes changed into a fresh pair that doesn’t reek of dish soap and fish. But you feel unsettled. Like there’s still one more thing you haven’t finished doing.   “No, it’s alright. I forgot something. You can go right ahead.”   She nods, joining the others and you walk to the back, pushing the doors of the kitchen open.   There’s still a light on and you find Seokjin sitting on a stool by a counter. He looks up at you, visage in a neutral state. Neither a frown nor a smile. “What are you still doing here?”   Your hand tightens on your bag strap and you approach him. “Are you okay?”   Seokjin smiles at you. For the first time, it isn’t mocking — it’s gentle and tinged with sadness. The corner of his plump lips quirk ever so subtly and his arm extends, hand plopping on top of your head before it slides off. “I’m fine. It’s still early enough that I don’t need to drive you. You should go home before the sun completely sets.”   Wordlessly, you begin to walk away.   But then a sharp inhale is stolen through your parted lips. Before you can second guess yourself, you grab Kim Seokjin. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he glares at you.    “We should go out for a drink.” You don’t waver even with the incredulous look on his face. “What’s wrong? Never had a drink with an employee before? It looks like you need one and I’ll only offer once. I’m pretty busy myself, you know.”    It’s aggressive, obnoxious, a bit loud. It’s all the things you suppose he dislikes in a person, yet somehow the two of you have never been closer.   You end up in some hole in the wall, drinking shots of soju that burn its way down your throat. Seokjin sits across from you with an amused smile on his face that’s so irritating you want to slap it off, and you damn yourself for letting it slip your mind that you’re a lightweight.   “Aren’t you hurt, Kim?” The words slightly slur on your tongue. “‘s ridiculous! To criticize your food is one thing, but to criticize your personality and talk about your personal life ‘s just crossing the line!”    His lips pull, his eyes flicker down to the empty bottle beside you. “Yeah. It is.”   “Then why aren’t you mad?!” Your fist pounds the wooden table. “Getting cheated on is sad enough! Why do they gotta rub it in, huh?” His brow lifts, but you continue, “should sue them!”   Seokjin exhales on a sip. “It’s part of the business.”   “No, ’s not!”   “It was my ex who told them anyway. She’s upset that I kicked her out of the apartment.”   “Then that’s more reason to be mad!” You press your face into your hands, angry at how he’s not angry. “How can you be so nice? How can you be so nice and no one knows it?!”   Seokjin smiles to himself.   “This freaking sucks,” you moan.   He sighs at your drunken state and orders water for you. The old lady tottles by with a big smile and you get a chance to see the cloud of fog and the face above her head. “I brought the bean sprouts back,” her husband calls from the entrance at the same time with a grocery bag.   “I’ll be right there.” She places the glass down in front of you. “Here you go.”   Jealousy colours you pink inside. “You met your soulmate,” you exhale at her quietly.   The woman’s eyes twinkle. “That old man? He gives me more headaches than anything. I’d rather this handsome man be my soulmate,” she quips, casting a glance at an embarrassed Seokjin who thanks her for her compliment.   Her husband calls her again and she hurries back.    Seokjin leans forward with a skeptical look. “Are you okay?”   “I’m envious,” you sigh wistfully, looking on at the married couple at the back with your chin rested in your palm. After a moment, you shift towards the man across from you. Seokjin really is handsome. “I come from a long line of matchmakers, you know, and I have this ability.”   He plays along. “What ability?”   “I see the faces of who people are gonna end up with.” You drink the water, cooling your throat, but above the rim of the glass, you recognize his scoff and amusement. The glass slams down on the table in your protest. “It’s true! It’s been like that since I was a baby!”    “Okay, okay. I believe you.”   He clearly doesn’t believe you.   Irritated, you straighten your spine. “A long, long time ago back in High School, I really, really, really liked this guy.”    Seokjin’s brows raise, not sure where you’re going with this. “Alright…?” He nudges the glass of water back to you.    “I knew he wasn’t gonna end up with me, but he asked me out. And like a total idiot, I-I went out with him anyway. Then guess what happened?”   He has no idea.    A thick lump forms in your throat and makes it hard to speak. “He met the girl he‘s supposed to end up with, so I broke it off. They got married a year after high school. So I was right. I was...right.” Tears flood your vision, clouding the dark-haired man in front of you. You forgo the water for the shot Seokjin poured himself and you down it.    You were right. But it hurt.   Seokjin’s voice is soft, though it does little to console you. “So….because of your ‘ability’, you haven’t gone out with anyone else?”   You nod. “I’d be setting myself up for a failure anyway.” Your head lifts and your tired gaze connects with his. “My family wanted me to be a matchmaker like them. But I love, love, love cooking and I wanna be a chef. Like you.”   The corner of his mouth quirks. You’re honest — in a way he wouldn’t have expected from sober you. But he doesn’t mind it whatsoever.   “I know you don’t believe me. But look.” You reach over, tapping him relentlessly on the shoulder and your hand barely comes to cover your mouth as if you’re children exchanging secrets across the table. “See those two women over there? They’re gonna end up together.”   Your whispers are all too loud and Seokjin glares, not sure if you’re hysterical or delusional. Or both.   You turn to the window and he follows your line of sight. At the same time, a couple holding hands passes by and you shake your head. “They don’t end up together.”   “How do you know?”   “I already said! I see it. Above their heads.” Then you turn your head, looking at him. Seokjin’s startled, having not realized that you’ve leaned in so close, that your faces are mere inches away. But before he can shift back, your lip pulls and you murmur, “We’re supposed to end up together.”   His brow raises.   “It was gonna be someone else. Then one day, you came into work and poof! It was my face! Just like that. I almost got a heart attack, you know!” Giggles start to spill out of you. “It was a huge shock cause I always thought I was gonna be alone since I can’t see my own. Well, sometimes fate changes, so it might change again! Don’t worry!”   He exhales, squeezing out the air from his lungs. He stands, grabbing his coat and then tugging your arm up. “You’ve had too much to drink. C’mon. Let’s go.”   “Aye, aye, captain— I mean chef!”   His smile is small, but all too evident. He should smile more, even if it ruins the cold and aloof exterior he’s got going on. It’s cute and makes him look younger. So you express the idea and he chops your head lightly with his hand and gives you a rather gentle ‘shut up’ that has you grinning more.    //   The sunlight burns your vision and there’s a pounding headache at your temples.   There’s an overwhelming urge to pull the covers over your head, but as the slits of your eyes open and you realize there’s a strange floral scent to the sheets, you bolt upwards.   It hurts all the senses in your body, but your eyes register the neat recipe books lined on the shelf, trophies and certificates on the walls, a poster of the planets, a telescope and Kim Seokjin’s family picture by his nightstand. And then you scream.   “Christ. Relax!” He appears at the doorway, eyeing you with his arms crossed. “You were drunk, so I took you home.”   Absentmindedly, you tug the covers up to your chest in spite of still wearing the same clothes from last night. Your dry voice croaks out. “We...we didn’t do anything scandalous did—”   “No!” He shuts the thought down before it runs wild in your head and Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t do anything to you, jesus christ, woman! Just get up. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll make you some breakfast and a hangover drink.”   You follow his instructions, cleaning yourself up to the best of your abilities with the limited supplies, but it’s surreal to be in Seokjin’s penthouse. It’s clean and organized, like you expected, though a lot more cozy and warm. You didn’t know he traveled so frequently and that he had an interest in astronomy — if there’s anything the telescope and posters tells you.   “Stop snooping,” he calls out from the kitchen, looking up to where you’re investigating his movie collection. You come over with a half-hearted apology and he sets down a bowl of oatmeal and a mysterious concoction in a tall glass. Both taste heavenly, enough to work up your appetite ten folds.   But then he says, “Eat fast. It’s a special day today.”   You’re not sure what he means by it, but you simply nod and nurse your headache.   You remember what you told him last night, how you revealed all your secrets in one long tangent and you cringe at yourself. Seokjin probably thinks you’re a complete nut.   But strangely enough, when you look at the cloud above his head, your face hasn’t changed.   “Why are you staring?”   “I’m not,” you mutter and tear your eyes away, unsuspecting to his smile.   But in spite of how close and upfront you might’ve gotten with Seokjin, he still tells you to walk to work yourself — that it’s close enough and too much of a hassle if he drives you. So you cuss him out as you’re striding down the block as he zooms past you in his expensive vehicle.   You hope he notices your glare from across the kitchen, but if he does, he doesn’t comment.   “Today, we have some special guests for dinner service. A few of my friends will be coming and one of them will be proposing, so let’s make sure we give them a good dinner and memory.”   “Yes, chef.”   The news is exciting and even puts a buzz in the kitchen. “Finally, we’re doing something cool,” Taehyung says to you with a swollen smile. “I love a good proposal story.”   “Always the one watching the proposal, never the one getting proposed to,” Yoongi quips as he brushes past and Hoseok snickers.   “Hey, I’m working on it!”   “I’m surprised Seokjin actually has friends though,” Jihyo comments and right when Yoongi turns to add something, they both pale as Seokjin strides past. He glares at them and is even more frightening in his silence. They immediately apologize and he hums, moving out the kitchen.   You, Hoseok, and Namjoon laugh.   Evening eventually comes and Seokjin temporarily calls a halt to the kitchen in favour of his old friends meeting his staff. It’s unusual to see him in such a good mood, smiling and being sociable. It’s strange in general to see this side of him, but it’s not unwelcome whatsoever.   There’s seven of them, a mix of females and males, and you follow Hoseok’s lead in greeting and shaking their hands. Quickly, you recognize who's going to be proposing to who tonight. It’s not hard to miss considering the man is visibly nervous and the close female by his side keeps glancing at him in worry.   “Are you alright, Jimin?”   “Huh? Yeah.” The blonde with full cheeks and soft features smiles timidly, scratching the back of his neck. He’s dressed too nicely for this to merely be a dinner. “I’m fine. Just not feeling well.”   “Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the clinic?” The short-haired female asks, concern evident in the faint knot between her brows. “There’s one down the street. I can go with you.”   “I’ll keep an eye on him, Yuri,” the man who introduced himself as Jungkook reassures her, “If anything I’ll take him.”   “Jimin’s just excited to try out the food.” Seokjin grins, drawing attention away from his friend. “Rest assured, everyone will feel better after eating and if you get sick tonight, it’s not food poisoning, alright?”   There’s laughter in the group and another says, “You’ve been bragging about your restaurant for so long, I thought you were never going to invite us to eat here.”   “Well, we’re usually booked full house, but it’s a slower season so I thought why not.”   Yet the conversations drown away from your ears as your eyes unintentionally flicker upwards. You don’t mean to — it’s still a habit you’re trying to break. But you feel blood drain from your face as you discern the image that emerges from the fog above Jimin’s head and above Yuri’s.   “Y/N?” Taehyung waves his hand in front of your eyes and you snap out of your trance. “Why are you staring into space? We’re going back.”   “O-Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about something.”   You return to the kitchen, forcing yourself to focus and getting back to your task.    It’s none of your business. You know better than to involve yourself and it’s not like anyone would believe you in the first place. People’s lives have nothing to do with you. You have to turn a blind eye. It’s none of your business, it’s none of your business—   But as you leave to the back area to grab ingredients, you catch the man leaving the bathroom. “Oh, you’re one of Seokjin’s chefs right?” Jimin stops and smiles at you, inhibiting your escape.   You shake your head. “I-I’m only a kitchen assistant.”   “But you’re still part of his staff.” His eyes are rounded and bright. “Is he mean at all? We’ve been trying to squeeze it out of him, but he won’t give us any details. I heard a bit of shouting, so I was curious.”   “Oh, he’s always shouting.” The corner of your mouth quirks and Jimin grins. “He’s a bit mean, but Chef Kim’s just serious about his work and we respect him for it.”   “It seems like you understand him better than I do. Anyway, the soup was amazing. I already told Jin, but I thought I should let you know since you’re the one who brought it out to us.”   “Thank you.” Your eyes travel above his head and then you notice the way he’s fiddling with a box inside his pants pocket. You swallow hard. “Are you proposing tonight?”   Jimin’s head whips up. “How’d you know?”   “Chef Kim let all of us know, so we can make sure it’s a memorable dinner service.”   His expression softens and he bobs his head. Jimin takes out the ring box and studies it carefully. “I am. I hope it wasn’t too obvious. I know she’ll say yes, but I’m still nervous. She’s the love of my life and these things only happen once,.”   “Well….” You give an awkward chuckle. “Sometimes it happens more than once for people.”   “Not for us,” Jimin declares in such self-assurance that it’s uncomfortable. His smile filled with affection doesn’t help either. “She’s the one. I don’t think I’ll love anyone more than her.”   Your pupils flicker up to the cloud above his head that says otherwise. It gnaws at you, mocking you, and you’re uncertain if you can sleep tonight if you don’t say at least something. So you take the leap. “Are….you...sure?”   “What?”   “Never mind.” You turn around, having regretted it the moment it spilled. “Please enjoy dinner!”   “Wait!” The man unexpectedly grabs you out of sheer instinct, halting you in your spot. He searches your face while his own crumples into a frown. “Did Yuri say something to you?”   “No!” you frantically spit before taking a deep breath to calm down. “I’m just….I just….” The philosophy you’ve forced yourself to take collapses at his earnest visage. You were never good at being unattached. “D-Do you think this is a good idea? Are you absolutely sure about this?”   “What’s going on here?” There’s a lower voice, a husky timbre. Seokjin stands at the end of the dark corridor and all traces of his outgoing personality are gone. It’s replaced with the serious demeanour you’re used to. He beckons you. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Y/N?”   Jimin returns back to the table, even more unnerved than before while you’re pulled outside.   You feel small with your back against the brick and Seokjin looming over you. “What the hell are you doing?”   You flinch from his tone.    You’ve never seen him so angry. He isn’t shouting, screaming or imposing. But the irritation seethes out of him, simmering underneath his skin. You swallow hard, downcast eyes searching the gravel. You think about how dark it’s getting with the sun setting over the horizon. “I…”   “Are you seriously trying to talk him out of it?! What gives you the right—”   You snap. There’s no reason he should be upset, no reason you should be treated this way. So with your teeth gritted, you give him the truth that’s hard to hear. The truth that you alone must bear. “They’re not going to end up together!”    “What?”   Seokjin wears the same incredulous look from last night. It’s futile.   Still, your mouth runs off into mumbles, “I can see it above their faces. That woman, Yuri, she’s…..paired with that other man. Jungkook.”   You give up. Waving the white flag. In the silence that follows, you expect Seokjin to fire you, or call the nearest hospital. Either you’re a nut or unsuitable to work in his kitchen. Maybe both.   What you don’t anticipate is his startled expression, horrified as if you just told him there’s a ghost behind him. “How….how’d you know that?” The syllables unusually stutter out of him. It’s not like Seokjin to be inarticulate. “Jungkook hasn’t told anyone he loves her except for me.”   It’s your turn to be surprised. The quietness lingers. Then, he sighs.   “Don’t get involved,” he scolds, gentler than before. At the same moment, there are cheers from inside that leak out — clapping and hollering — you know Jimin’s proposed.   Seokjin turns away, returning to the restaurant floor and you resume your position in the kitchen. Jihyo asks if there’s anything wrong, but you brush her off. For the rest of the night, you concentrate on your job and Seokjin’s friends bid farewell after their stomachs are full from dessert and there’s a diamond on Yuri’s finger.   “Job well done everyone.” Seokjin has a satisfied look when he returns and Namjoon shares a smile with everyone. Clean up finishes soon after, but before you can leave, he calls you specifically. “Y/N, come here.”   Taehyung looks at you with widened eyes, but you don’t utter a word, staying behind. The kitchen filters out and even Yoongi sends a sympathetic look your way before departing. It’s never a good thing to be called back.   You brace yourself. If Seokjin didn’t make a scene firing you earlier than certainly will now. There’s no reason not to — you tried to stop an engagement between his close friends and he probably thinks you’re psychotic.   You stand there in silence for a good minute as he fills out some paperwork. It feels like you’re in the principal’s office. Then, the corner of his mouth moves as he casts a glance at you. “Sometimes you borrow the kitchen to practice, right? You can practice tonight.”   Confusion renders you immobile, filling your mouth with cotton, but you manage a slight nod.   You start to chop vegetables into bowls, dicing and mincing ingredients that will be needed for tomorrow. All the while, Seokjin sits meters away from you with a bunch of papers. Either doing his taxes or filing a report to admit you into the hospital. You’re not sure which one it is.   But halfway through, he pipes up again. “You should make something for the two of us to eat.”   “Yes, chef.” On any other night, you would be bursting with excitement, knowing it was a chance to impress him. But now you wonder if this will be your last chance to cook.    Within minutes, you have a pot on the stove, boiling for ten minutes.   “Sit down,” he commands, motioning to the other stool and you oblige.   Seokjin makes drinks in the meanwhile, asking what you want. When you mumble anything’s fine, he pulls out a few bottles from the back cabinet and starts mixing. You didn’t know he can bartend, but it’s almost expected that Kim Seokjin can do anything at this point.   The atmosphere is terribly awkward, so you exhale from your nose and speak up, “I’m sorry. I...I know I stepped out of line. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. I’m really so—”   “I believe you,” Seokjin interjects, gaze meeting yours across the counter. Your breath hitches. “I didn’t believe you at first. About the whole ability thing. But when you told me that Jimin and Yuri won’t make it, I knew there was no other possible way.” He pours the drink into two glasses. “Jungkook and Yuri grew up together. He told me a long time ago he was in love with her and I was sworn to secrecy. No one else knows. Not his brother, his mom, or Jimin.”   He passes it to you and sighs, taking a sip. “But there’s nothing I can do to stop Jimin or to help Jungkook. It’s something they have to figure out on their own.”   You nod, gripping the stem of the glass. “I know.”   There’s a pregnant pause.    You lift your eyes and it connects with Seokjin’s. Instantly, you feel yourself breaking into a sweat at how intense he looks at you. “Is it true then?” he asks in the quaintness of the kitchen, his voice thick and low. “Are we going to end up together?”   “It might change!” The words come out all too frantically in fear he’ll freak out like you did. You know it’s a lot to take in. “Things change all the time. You were supposed to end up with Jisoo, but then, but then things happened so….nothing’s ever certain. It all depends on our actions and choices. I know you don’t like people like me. I don’t have anything to offer you anyway—”   “You need to have more confidence in yourself.”   Your voice dies on your tongue. Seokjin’s staring at you again in a way that makes your palms clammy, so intense that you wonder if he’s scrutinizing your pores. You swallow hard, tearing your own gawking away until you hear sizzling. The two of you turn to where the pot is almost over boiling and you run over, grabbing it off the stove. “I-It’s done.”   He grabs bowls as you set it down and uncover the lid.    “What do we have here?”   You’re embarrassed. It’s nothing like his fine dining dishes, or even his comfort food that somehow tastes like heaven. “It’s just carrot and potato curry stew. It’s actually something my family cooks…..so it’s nothing fancy.”   Seokjin’s spoon dips into the liquid and it’s your turn to watch intently.   He smells it, sips and his expression is kept blank.   You stand. “I can throw it out if you want—!”   “Why are you so jumpy today?” The corner of his plump lips curls. “And why would I want to throw out something so delicious?”   Your heart stutters in your chest and tears fill your vision. He might not fire you after all and on top of that, both your inborn ability and cooking skills have been validated. You feel overwhelmed. Especially when he finishes his first bowl and goes for seconds.    “This is what I’ve been missing in my cooking,” Seokjin murmurs with a tiny smile. “When they said I was missing my roots, I think I know what they mean now. Thank you, Y/N.”   You’re not sure who’s filled with more gratitude.   He smiles and you nod at him earnestly, speechless on what to say.   At the end of the night, Seokjin drives you home in his black Mercedes. A kind of lull fills that car and it isn’t frightening like it usually would be. Rather, it’s comfortable. A little too short lasting. He parks the car at the curb in front of your apartment and you get out.   “Thank you.”   Yet after you shut the door, he rolls down the window and stops you. “Y/N.”   You look at him and he smiles again. A phenomenon that used to be so rare that seems to happen frequently now. “I hope it doesn’t change.”   Kim Seokjin gazes at you, eyes connected across the distance that feels like it’s closing. He never wavers and a lump forms into your throat. “Are we going to end up together?” — Your own words echo in the recesses of your mind— “It might change! Things change all the time.”   But here he is. Going against all your efforts of trying to change fate itself. “I hope it doesn’t change. And I hope you don’t want it to change either.”   Seokjin drives off, leaving you absolutely stunned.   You wonder if he knows what he’s saying. But as you watch his car fade into the distance, somehow you’re not appalled or scared at the idea of being with him anymore.

The kitchen is an organized pandemonium.   A place where everyone knows exactly what they’re supposed to do and moves in fluid motions by one another, like a busy crosswalk in the downtown area. It’s a kind of silent teamwork and while you’re merely helping Taehyung chop vegetables or washing the accumulated dishes, you know your role is still an important one. You just wish you could a little more.   The moment the back door creaking can be heard, everything comes to a halt. Seokjin rounds the corner as everyone simultaneously greets him. “Good afternoon, chef.”   “Afternoon.” There’s a smile on his features, one that surprises a few and makes the others unsettled. “There’s going to be a special menu item today, so I want that prepared as soon as possible.”   He hands the new recipe to Namjoon who frowns upon the sprawled notes. “Carrot...and potato soup with chickpea crumble?”   “If you need details, ask Y/N,” Seokjin says with a tiny smile. “It’s her recipe.”   At once, everyone turns to you with shocked expressions. It’s one thing for Seokjin to suddenly introduce something new, but to introduce yours, it’s both unprecedented and a privilege.   You stare at him and his smile widens slightly. “I hope you don’t mind.”   “N-Not at all.”   The daily tasks commence, but not without a pat on the back from Yoongi, a congratulations from Jihyo and a smile sent your way by Taehyung. Namjoon and Hoseok ask for your help and it’s the first time you’re not just mincing garlic in the corner or washing a stack of dishes. Pride bursts through you and you look across the kitchen to Kim Seokjin. He scoffs at how big your smile is, feigns a glare and tells you to get back to work.   The rest of the dinner service goes smoothly. Your appetizer gets compliments from several and you couldn’t be any happier, even when everyone’s left and you’re still scrubbing dishes.   There’s a click of a tongue beside you. Seokjin stands with his arms crossed. “You always find ways to make me pay you overtime. Move over.” He rolls up his sleeves and helps you wash the last pots and pans.   “Thank you for today. It was a good surprise.”   He hums and the pair of you finish up before he tells you to unload the dishwasher tomorrow. “Go change and grab your coat. It’s getting late.”   “Are you going to drive me home?”   “No. We’re going to scope out some competition.”   “Competition?”   “We’re going to eat at a restaurant called Dog World,” Seokjin brushes off quickly, but when you continue to blink at him, he sighs and waves you off. “Don’t ask too many questions, alright? This is my excuse for asking you out on a date.”   If you weren’t caught off guard before, you’re wholly stunned speechless now. A deer in headlights. And it makes the older bastard grin widely.   “Don’t worry.” His voice knocks down into a gentler tone. “You can reject me if you want. I don’t want you to be pressured because I’m your boss, even though I don’t think that matters to you. But you should also know I’m not doing this because of what you see.” He gestures above his head, unknowingly batting the cloud of fog you can perceive. “I’m doing this because I want to.”   It sinks into you and your head tilts to your shoulder. “You….want to go out on a date with me?”   The corner of Seokjin’s lip pulls and he diverts his vision elsewhere. You notice how his ears are turning red. “Ever since you sat down with me and told me that getting cheated on was sad enough and that they shouldn’t rub it in.”   There’s silence. The first stretch of it is because you genuinely don’t know what to say to him. But the second stretch that follows is when you realize just how nervous he is and there’s a ruthless urge to keep him on the edge. You make him simmer in fear, a similar kind to the countless ones he’s given you during stressful shifts in the kitchen.   There’s something powerful yet endearing about how Kim Seokjin anticipates your answer.   You never thought he could be this way. He just keeps surprising you.   When you can’t contain it anymore, you burst out laughing.   “I’ll accept on the condition that if you take my recipe permanently, you’ll need to pay me royalties appropriately. Don’t think I won’t take you out to court, Kim.”   Seokjin grins and for the first time, certainty sews into you. You have a feeling fate isn’t going to change and you hope it doesn’t either.

[Epilogue]   The kitchen is your home.   You’re sure Jin would adamantly argue that the house was perfectly fine to be considered your home, but there’s still a charm to the busy kitchen that has drawn you in since childhood. Even if the heat swelters in the still air and is stifling, even when grease and oil splatter and stains your clothes, the effort in cooking makes the food that comes from it even more delicious.   “What is this?”    All heads turn at your voice and you motion to the plate about to be brought out. “The rice is on the wrong side of the plate! Re-do this, and watch the plating people! I know it’s easy to forget but it’s important to be consistent with the presentation!”   “Yes, chef!”   It’s strenuous and difficult to be here. It took years to get to where you are, but you wouldn’t trade it in for anything. The reward is worth it. You love your job — maybe even more than Jin, and while you’re sure he wouldn’t be surprised, he’d still playfully whine about being casted aside.   The rest of the night goes off without a hitch and once the kitchen is all clean, you switch off the lights and lock the doors. And like magic, the person you’ve been thinking about all day is leaning against the car parked on the curb, arms crossed as he stares out into the starry sky.   “About time. I’ve been waiting for the past twenty minutes.”   You scoff with a smile and discern the cold cloud emitting from his lips each time he exhales.   This is the exact opposite of what you intended to happen. Sometimes you wonder if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy — by knowing he was going to be with you and trying to avoid it, you inadvertently made him closer to you. But whatever the case may be, you’re glad for the outcome.   You close the distance and slap your hands against his frozen cheeks, trying to warm them up. A smile tugs on your features. “Sorry. You’re cold, aren’t you? You should’ve just waited in the car.”   “But I wanted to see you right away,” he mutters, putting his hands on top of yours to keep you there, then he adds, “and it gives me reason to do this.” Seokjin grins and leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips, one that you smile into.   If any of his old kitchen staff or even the current group saw him now, they’d faint with how grossly affectionate he was being. Then again, they might just be used to it considering Jin hasn’t ever paid mind to other people. He’s never been one to opt out of public displays of affection either.   “You know I’ve been thinking lately.”   “About?”   “How hard I tried to get rid of you and how I couldn’t. You’re kind of like a pest.”   Your husband of two years straightens his spine, wholly offended. “Pest?”   Laughter bubbles out of your chest and you press another chaste kiss to his lips before you’re pushing him aside to get into the car. Seokjin chuckles, rounding the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat.   “Are you hungry?”   “Not really.”   “Namjoon and Taehyung want us to go to the opening of their restaurant.”   “Their opening event lasts for three days right? We can always go tomorrow.” You turn to him as he pulls off, driving down the street. “I’m kind of craving your comfort food tonight.”   Jin grins, easily obliging while your eyes flicker up to the cloud of fog above his head. You see yourself smiling as widely as you are now, and you’re thankful you have your ability.

Damage, Pt. 2

Pairing: Rafael Casal x OFC Holly Woods

Word Count: 3.8 K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF  Read at your own risk. Pining, angst, FWB, graphic sex, protected sex, talk of getting tested for STD’s, Krispy Kreme, and all the feels.

A/N: It’s my birthday and I missed Rafa and Holly, so I wrote my own deliverance. At this point, these two are so oblivious, it isn’t funny. This happens just after Last Christmas.

This December adventure began early that morning, as Daveed and Rafa taught your writing classes and then hosted a Holiday showcase for your kids. 

They donated their time and talents as a favor for you. It was so damn cute and thoughtful that you’d thanked Rafael and then kissed him under the mistletoe. Almost as if you were in a relationship.

Almost.

You weren’t in a relationship, however. You’d only shared two nights together, as friends who fucked, and you had an understanding that it wouldn’t be any more than that. Rafael and you had an agreement to service each other for the time being, no commitment, no feels. 

And who were you to him? He was a creative, a star who could jet off around the world in a moment’s notice for a glamorous affair.  You were just a school teacher who worked every day in LA. Rafael would never want you for his girl. So this situationship served a utilitarian purpose, not a romantic one. 

After the kiss, Rafael’s mind was whirring. He slowly backed away and checked the time, noticing that it was just after 9 pm. The night was young. He didn’t want the night with you to end. 

Rafael felt the urge to be with you again, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You were so dope and the fact that you didn’t know it made you even more so.  You were refreshing with your intelligence, adding to the facts that you did not give a fuck who he was, did not play to his ego, and did not want him to wife you.  

That last part was refreshing, but also troubling as he evaluated his feelings for you. But there were no feelings to be involved; you’d made that clear.  If he fell for you, you’d probably end it. You clearly didn’t want to be bothered with his lifestyle, and frankly, he didn’t deserve you. 

But he could possibly have tonight. It would be the last chance to be with you before you went to Houston to visit your family for Christmas, and the thoughts of you he’d had since Tuesday couldn’t wait another week.

You gathered yourself together and got your emotions in check.  You told yourself that you were just fond of him as a friend, but that’s where the sentiment ended.  You only had to repeat that to yourself about three times before your heart started to slow down.

Rafael smiled at you, crossing his legs and leaning on your desk while watching you work, finally getting your things together so that you could leave.  It had been a long day.

You were wearing your work clothes, white button down shirt, black pencil skirt and heels. Your Christmas cardigan had been discarded when you started cleaning up. That skirt was fit. ting.  Damn, that ass.  You were all covered up, but the clothes got him a little hard. 

You watched him watching you and gave him a smile that made his blue-greens light up.

“Did you have fun with my badass kids today?” 

Rafa laughed at your joke. He saw how much you loved your students. 

“They’re not bad. Some kids just need different ways to learn and show that they’ve learned. But you know that already.”

He shook his head at you. He could read you like a book.

“You try to pretend that you’re mean Ms. Woods but I know better. They wouldn’t love you so much if you were mean to them. Like young Timothy. He sure does love you a lot. You’re… what is it he called you?  His Cutie Pie?” Rafa looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. Timmy was his nemesis.

There was something in his voice that made you stop and look.  Could Rafa be jealous of a kindergartner?  Nah. But he was certainly worked up.

You smiled mischievously, walking towards him with some workbooks in your hand.

“I am ‘Mean Ms. Woods.’” 

You came close to him and leaned beside him to put the workbooks on your desk. Standing in front of him, your legs on either side of his, Rafael got caught up. He kept his hands clasped in front of him and eyes on you as you got close. But he couldn’t help but lean in, try to look down your shirt and kiss you on your neck.  

You stepped back before his lips made contact, teasing him.  The way he huffed and clenched his jaw got you going. That smoldering look and flashing green eyes always did.

You  definitely wanted to give him some, if he wanted, after what he had pulled off today for your kids.  You were happy that he seemed to want you too. But you were chilling. You wondered about other women in his rotation. 

You laughed a little and smiled, shaking your head at yourself.

“What?” 

Rafa smiled, seeing that you were flustered about something and hoping that something was him. He knew the cat and mouse game was just beginning.

It had been just three days but he was feening for you. Especially after seeing you with your kids this morning. You were something special. Someone he couldn’t let… He stopped his train of thought as you started talking.

“Timothy is a handful.  Mischievous, hella smart, quick witted. And a little charmer. He’s always trying to get a kiss. He has a ton of potential. Reminds me of someone else…” 

Rafael’s quick wit turned you the fuck on. Not to mention his face. And... Whew. Your thoughts were getting out of control. 

The way you were smiling at him made Rafa‘s heart leap. He tried to push the emotions down and just feel the physical.  But he did care about you. A lot. 

“Ok, enough about Timenstien.  Let’s talk about adult things…”  He just wanted to pick you up and carry you outta here the way you cocked your head at him.

“...Like the arrangement for benefits without borders. The tests, the shot… “ You just continued to stare at him.  When you licked your lips, Rafa put his hands in front of him to cover up his hard on.

You laughed again. “‘Benefits Without Borders,’ you should copyright that.”  

“Yeah, or call it, ‘FWB Raw’” Rafael had jokes.

You cracked up.  “I can’t with you, Rafa.”

Rafael’s face fell. “I mean your jokes, I can’t with your jokes. Sheesh.” 

You turned around to gather more books. Rafa fixed his face, but his eyes couldn’t leave your ass.

“Anyway, I already started the process. I went and was able to get an appointment Wednesday after school, so the shot should take effect next week.”

After the night you’d had Tuesday, you definitely wanted to experience that again. It was fortunate that your doctor had an opening on such short notice.

Rafa’s heart leapt when he heard that, but his face showed no emotion, just a cocked eyebrow when you turned back around.

“Word?”

“Word. Yeah, I’m actually leaving Sunday morning, Christmas Eve, and won’t be back until the 30th...So.”

“So…” Rafa’s eyes, they were changing colors on you. It put you off balance.

“So, if we go get the tests tonight, next week might be available for no barrier method benefits between friends  That is if you still want to….” You bit your lip. Rafa cleared his throat and you saw a smile playing around his mouth.

“Let’s think about the last time when that almost happened.” And he paused so you could go there. You had to lean on one of the children’s tables to think of the shower. You were most definitely wet right now.  

Rafa watched you as you had to open your mouth to breathe.Yes, he was definitely about to get some tonight. He wanted more than just sex, but right now he would take what he could get. Then your face changed to uncertainty.

“By the time I get back, you’ll probably have other plans for New Year’s weekend…”

Rafa was confused. “Nah, I’m going next door for Utkarsh and Naomi’s party… aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but you-- we-- might have dates or something.”

Ohhhhh. That’s what was up. Rafa nodded.  Shit.  You might have someone else in the rotation.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. True that.  There’s a couple of people, I mean. A few.”

Rafa was lying through his teeth, no one in his phone could hold a candle to you. Sure, they were ready, willing and able. But they were not you. And you didn’t have to know that.

“See, so…”

Rafa mourned the lost vibe.  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, not caring how it looked anymore. You watched him and longed to have your fingers in his mane, but you were chilling.

“Look. The other night we said that this was a special deal between us. I don’t wanna tie you down.  We’ll just see how things go, I mean, you might hook up in Houston…” He watched you, waiting for you to deny it.

You didn’t deny it simply because you did not know how to say that the only one you wanted to take advantage of the situation was him. You just stared at him. When you didn’t say anything, he went on.

“...old flames, new boos, whatever.  The tests will be good information to have in any circumstance.  I say we go for it.”

"Let's get it!"

An hour later you were at the Krispy Kreme donuts on Crenshaw on the way to your place. You had already dropped your car off and were now chilling with the homie after getting tested for STDs. 

You were staring in the window of the bakery, watching the donuts getting that hot glaze now and licking your lips.  They were so tempting. You were thinking donuts and Rafa was thinking the same about your lips.

"I don't think these will help with my anemia."  Your little laugh was so cute to Rafa.

The only bad news you’d got from the blood tests was that you needed more iron. You were both clean and ready to go.

"Let's get some. That glaze does something to me. I just want to lick some of that creamy stuff from around that hole..." Rafa was staring at you while he spoke, the “Hot Donuts Now” sign casting an eerie red light on half of his face.

"You’re so nasty...." you giggled.

Rafael screwed up his face. 

"What? I'm talking ‘bout some donuts.  I don't know what you're talking about." Rafa felt irrationally happy being here with you. Because you were a great friend. Yeah, that was it.

You got a dozen and left on the way to your house.  You stole a donut while riding. You looked at him while licking your fingers.

You’d decided that you wanted to have him before you left, even if you had to use protection. After you ate the donut, you put your thumb in your mouth, sucked for a second, and removed it with a loud pop, still staring at Rafa.

He almost pulled over to the side of the road.  But he was determined. "Hmmmm." Was all he replied as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

You put your hand on Rafael’s knee and moved it up a few inches to his dick. It was appropriately swollen. You smiled and started stroking it through his pants.  You felt it get harder. 

"I’ve been thinking about you a lot tonight. What you did for the kids was so… It was nice. On the other hand, I can’t wait for you to fuck my throat."

Rafa almost choked on nothing. You always surprised him and made him feel like an insecure, horny teenage boy.  But he wasn't going out like that. You were just a few minutes from your place.

"You know what. I'd love to see those tits right now."

“Right now? While you are driving?”

“I’m grown. Been driving since I was 15. I got this.”

You giggled, but reached up and unbuttoned your shirt. Your breasts were bathed in the moonlight, sitting perky and upright in your sheer black bra. Holy fuck. Your nipples were calling to him.

He'd distracted you from his dick, but his mouth was watering.  All he wanted was to fulfill your dirty fantasies. He reached your apartment and turned off the car.  You leaned back against the window. Rafael turned towards you, appraising you impassively. He had to use his acting skills to seem calm. Damn, you had him twisted.

"Touch them for me."

You licked your lips at his command.

"But I think I still have some glaze on my..."

Rafa just stared at you.

You did as you were told and pulled your bra cups down, freeing your breasts.  You started feeling and pulling on your nipples.  Your eyes were half closed in ecstasy as you started moaning and fogging the windows of Rafa’s car. He was right there with you as he palmed himself through his pants and feasted his eyes on you for a few minutes.

He leaned over and took over your breasts with his mouth. He licked and sucked each of them, making you wet all over again.

“Mmmmm. So sweet.” He looked up at you, his breath fanning your face from below.

You giggled. “It’s the icing from the donut.”

“Nah girl, it’s just how you taste. Like the sweetest ambrosia.”

Damn, his words. Rafael Casal and his damn words. You just stared at him, speechless.

Rafael drew in a ragged breath and reached over to pull your bra up and button your shirt just enough to be decent going into your apartment. It was so tender. But in a no feels kind of way.

“Let’s go on up.”

Rafa peered into your soul. Sure, you wanted him. But was it really just for friendship and occasional dick?

“Eager, are we?”

His voice did something to you. The soft tenor and the earnestness of his requests of you made you melt. How did he do things to you without touching you? You didn’t want to analyze it too much, so you threw the question back on him.

“You’e not?”  Your challenge threw him off. He chuckled to hide his nerves.

“Yes, I’m eager Holly.  I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time. I want you.”

You closed your eyes and licked your lips, trying to center yourself. “That’s cool.”

You reached for your bag and moved to get out of the car.

“Hold on,” Rafa moved quickly to get out and go around to open the door for you, his chivalry not unnoticed by you. Again, the little things made you want him even more.  This was not going to be good for your heart when he decided to move on.

You led the way to your place and started up the stairs to your apartment before him.

It seemed as if that ass was going left to right in slow motion as Rafael watched it intently. He shook his head to see if he was bugging. When you glanced at him over her shoulder, he knew.

He grinned at you and looked back at it when you turned back around, catching a glimpse of a garter belt on your thighs through the slit in your skirt as you climbed the stairs.

Holy fuck! He had to have you. He rubbed his fingers right before reaching out to verify, then drew them back, because it wouldn’t do to fuck you outside on the stairs of your apartment building.

Rafa gave you some space as you opened the door, but as soon as you were inside, he pushed you up against the wall, hands everywhere.  It seemed as if he’d waited forever and not just three days. You had him addicted. 

You moaned as Rafael started kissing down your neck to your cleavage, dropping your bags on the floor by your feet. He saw a peek of your black bra through your shirt. He remembered the garter set and had to see the entire affect. He backed up, taking you in from head to toe.

"You wanna take those clothes off, or do you want me to rip them off?"

You smiled. "I guess I'll choose the first option."

You slowly unbuttoned your blouse, and peeled the skirt from your hips. It was so seductive that by the time you were done, Rafa had undressed as well, his thick dick in his hands, getting it ready for you.

You stood before him, in a sheer black lace bra and garter set, with no panties. The fact that you had been like that all day under your clothes made him get even harder. And you were looking at what he was holding and licking your lips.

"You hungry?"

"Yes. Please."

"C'mere."

Rafael laid you down on the couch. He turned your head and filled your mouth as he stood at one end of the sofa. He used his free hand to twist and flick your rock hard nipples through your bra. Damn, he loved it when you moaned with his dick in your mouth.

“You like that Holly? This what you wanted?”

You were ravenous, stroking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth naturally. And you were busy, so you just nodded. Rafa continued to torture your nipples with one hand, but moved his other hand down to your clit, swirling insistent and concentrated circles around it.

You were so worked up that it did not take too long for him to manipulate an orgasm from you. “Damn, girl.” 

He was in heaven as you came with your mouth around his dick. Good thing, it muffled the sound. He was concentrating on not shooting off down your throat as he watched you, writhing in your garter set and licking his fingers, and then moving down to eat some of your delicious cream. 

Rafa held your hips down mercilessly as you fought your next orgasm.  He tongued you through it, taking all that you had to give him and successfully keeping you from running from it.

When he rose from between your legs, and wiped his face with the back of his hand, you looked as if you were going to sleep, your eyes vacant and rolling back in your head.  You were in shock from all the pleasure.

"Get that ass up."

You languidly obeyed and stood before him, eyes glowing and sexy ass lips smiling. Something in Rafael’s heart lurched and he couldn’t explain to anyone why. He was mad for some reason. 

Conflicted with different emotions, he just grabbed your waist and roughly turned you around, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back as he bent you over the arm of the couch.

You looked amazing in what you were wearing. He rubbed your ass before he smacked it, hard. Rafa was rewarded with a moan and an arched back. 

“Are you ready for this dick?” He smiled as he put the tip alllllmost in.

“Wait…”

Then he remembered.  “Shit.” 

He went into your bedroom, seeing your suitcase set up and mostly packed for the trip.  He brushed away the feeling that he had at what that meant and quickly went to your bedside table for a condom. He didn’t want to lose the vibe.

He came back into the living room to the sight of you still bent over, head resting on the couch cushion.  He stroked himself to full staff again, put the condom on, and lined up with your cunt.

“Still ready?” 

He didn’t have to ask as he heard your moan and felt you try to push back to take him.  He stilled your movement with this hand on your hip, wanting to prolong the anticipation.  His heart skipped a beat as you asked him for it.

“Please, Rafa, please give it to me…”

“Damn.”

He sank into you, none too easily. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. And so wet. I love to see you cream for me, Holly. Can’t wait to feel it again.” He couldn’t wait until you returned, so that he wouldn’t have to worry about condoms. That is if you hadn’t…

He brushed the thought of you with another man out of his mind and slapped your ass, angry again.  You whimpering beneath him had him almost out of control.  You, it seemed, were on the same page.

“Oh, Rafa.  I’m so close already. I’m going to….” Rafa just kept hitting that spot, making your knees buckle. You were grateful for the support of the couch arm.

“Fuck, Rafa… I’m gonna c-c-cummmmmm.” You started pounding around him, and he grabbed the back of your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK, fuck, fuck.” Rafa had no other words at the moment.

You were screaming into the couch cushion as he emptied his cum into the condom, his hips stuttering and erratic in their rhythm. 

He leaned over you and onto your back after he was spent, for just a few moments. Then, he straightened up and made his way to your bathroom to get rid of the condom. 

Rafael washed up a little and looked at himself in the mirror. It was hopeless.  He brought out a washcloth for you and found you curled up on the couch.

“Let me..” Rafa approached you to clean you up, and you let him, trying not to register the intimacy and tenderness of the act.  He was just being a good friend.

When he was done, you thanked him and went to the bathroom, shaking your head at yourself in the mirror. You felt helpless and a slave to the feelings that weren’t supposed to be there.

You made your way back into your bedroom, took off the garter and hose, and pulled on some sweats and a tee.

In the living room, Rafa was dressed as well. And standing by the door. Your heart sank a little. But you smiled and went toward him.

“Thank you, that was just what I needed after a long week. You headed out?”

Why didn’t you just invite him to stay over?

“Yeah, I better go. You probably have a ton to do before you leave.”

Rafael didn’t know how to say that he wanted to stay, but if he did, he would wind up saying too much. “Can I have a hug?” He needed you in his arms, just one more time.

You smiled at him. “Is it even a question, after what we just did?”

You were sad that he didn’t want really to hug, he just wanted to fuck. He was just being nice, but that didn’t keep you from burying your head in his chest and squeezing tight as you went into his embrace. 

Rafael inhaled the scent of your hair and closed his eyes as he cradled you, holding you close to his heart. “You have a safe trip, and a good time with your people. Merry Christmas again, Holly.”

Your eyes welled up as you kept your head in his chest. “I will, Rafa. Thank you so much again for today. It was everything. Merry Christmas, Rafa. Have a good one.”

You lowkey wiped your eyes on his shirt before you looked up at him and smiled. You gazed at each other for a minute before he let you go.

“See you in a few days. You know, maybe.” He fumbled for the doorknob behind him.

You laughed and smiled, catching his heart. “Yeah, see you next week. Possibly.”

“Bye Holly.” He’d finally found the doorknob and was backing out of it.

“See ya, Rafael.” You were shaking your head at him as you closed the door.

You leaned against it for a long time as Rafa made his way to the car, and banged his head on the steering wheel.

You both were idiots in love. And you didn’t even realize it.

-------

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