#secretary was the main one i wanted this year but the person who is secretary will do a very good job i think
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I MADE ORCHESTRA OFFICERS !
#im historian which was the second one i was going for#secretary was the main one i wanted this year but the person who is secretary will do a very good job i think#my main duty is to like. take pictures of events & compile them into a slideshow at the end of the year#ill claim some other jobs that will be easier for me since I'm connected to the band as well#but yeah i like the job of documenting events since that means i don't have to *in* the pictures#i get to be behind the scenes a bit more to take pics#and i like being behind the scenes!#Constance speaks
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The Gate of Salvation [1/3]
[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]
[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, anxiety, manipulation, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]
[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]
A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Aemond as a Pope Edit
Series Characters Moodboard
Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
What happened after the conclave took everyone by surprise and caused complete chaos in the Catholic Church; she was one of the people who watched the live coverage from St Peter's Square.
She prayed in spirit that her uncle and her mother's brother, Cardinal Reene, would not become Pope.
Admittedly, it was thanks to him that she was living in Rome, and without his financial support she would not have been able to study, however, her uncle was a person who did nothing selflessly.
He recalculated to himself that if his niece wanted to study marketing at University then he would help her, reminding her at times that he would count on her help in the future, to create a good, sympathetic image of him.
She had the feeling that listening to him she was even losing her faith, which, despite her many internal disputes and doubts, was strong in her. She returned to the bosom of the church of her own free will when she was in high school after years of not attending Mass; she discovered that she felt attached to this tradition, as well as to God himself, whose presence she subconsciously felt all around her.
She knew that her uncle would certainly try to bribe other cardinals and she guessed what his pontificate would be like, so she begged God in her prayers not to allow such a man to become head of the church in his name, and heavens, as always, heard her prayers.
When she saw the white smoke on the screen she let out a loud breath, closing the textbook she had just been reading – she heard shouts and applause of joy coming from the television; the bells rang out, the solemn moment when the new pope comes out onto the balcony to greet his faithful was about to begin.
This went on for an astonishingly long time and she wondered if something had happened or if the votes had been miscounted, however, she heard the cheers of the crowd again as the doors opened. What stepped out was not a procession, but an ordinary priest in a black cassock; she recognised in him the secretary of the late Pope, who was certainly not a cardinal.
He seemed tense and frightened; he approached the microphone and said only two sentences.
"We have a Pope. The Holy Father, who has taken the name Pius XIII, asks you all to pray for him." He said in a trembling, uncertain voice, all pale, and then disappeared back behind the door – voices of disbelief and disappointment spread throughout the square, the gathered people, like her, were shocked.
However, all the internet portals published the name of the cardinal who had been elected; it turned out that the new pope was Cardinal Targaryen, a very little-known, withdrawn and shockingly young priest.
He was only two years older than her.
Journalists despaired that there were no official or unofficial photos of him, no statements from him, as if he had lived for years locked away in some monastery and never stepped into the light of day.
The world was confused and anxious – the young pope had not stepped out onto the balcony of St Peter's Basilica even once despite the crowds gathered in the square below chanting his name day and night.
She wondered if, in this way, he wanted to focus the world's attention even more on himself by standing in the absolute centre of it, and thought that if so, it was not a good beginning to his pontificate.
Two days later, her uncle paid her an unannounced visit at the flat he was renting to her, dressed so that no one would recognise him, just like the other cardinals still hounded by journalists and paparazzi.
"I need your help. The matter is very delicate." He said quickly, handing her his coat, which she hung on one of the hangers, looking at him over her shoulder in surprise.
"Me?" She asked with her eyes wide open, wondering what was going on there that required the help of someone from outside the Vatican.
"Pius XIII is a cripple. He lost his left eye as a child. He insists that if he is to show himself to a crowd, it should only be with his artificial eye, but not an ordinary one, one that resembles the real one, but a completely white one. He thinks this suits his attire and position better, but we think it will create additional confusion about him. Additionally, he wants to keep the Pope's public appearances to a complete minimum. He has fired all the Vatican marketing people with years of experience. This is some madness. Can I have a coffee?" He finally asked after his verbosity, sitting down in a chair at the living room table, placing his black wide-brimmed hat on the tabletop, sighing heavily.
She nodded, snapped out of her reverie and the shock of his words, pulling a mug and black coffee from her cupboard. Her uncle drank coffee made from three heaped teaspoons without milk, and although she didn't know how he could swallow something so disgusting and not have a heart attack in the process, she made it the way he liked it.
She swallowed loudly, pouring water into the kettle, putting it on the burner and turning the fire on under it, analysing everything he had told her.
"It sounds like he has a very low and a very high opinion of himself at the same time. How could I help here, uncle? I'm just a student." She said in dismay, shrugging her shoulders; her uncle nodded his head as if convinced that this would be her answer.
"You are young, you have a fresh outlook. He doesn't want to listen to us old people, he thinks we're out of step with the world and what it needs, whatever that means." He said with a sneer, looking out of the window, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a creak of wood.
"I'd like you to try to talk to him, to understand what he means, what his vision is. Guide him to the idea that young people too want peace and predictability, not perpetual rebellion. I told him I could introduce you, that you are very talented and he agreed." He said finally and scratched the back of his neck – she heard the kettle whistle and turned off the fire under it, feeling that she had simply run out of words.
"− what? − I − oh God, uncle, I don't know − what if I make things worse and you lose in his eyes because of me? −" She muttered, feeling adrenaline start to bubble throughout her body; she poured hot water over the coffee in her mug, grabbed it and set it in front of him, then started walking back and forth across the room, panicking in some kind of way.
"This would just be a consultation − two young people want to change the image of the church to, let's say, a more welcoming one − this could be your big chance." He said, lifting the mug to his lips, taking a sip from it and murmuring contentedly, apparently finding that his coffee was exactly the way he liked it.
He persuaded her for so long that she finally agreed, but she regretted it as soon as he walked out.
She was inexperienced in discussions with this world, with such people, and was afraid she would make a mistake, do something against protocol and embarrass herself.
Her uncle sent her a message on the day of the meeting saying that she must dress modestly, preferably in white or black her dress must end at least past her knees, her toes must not stick out of her shoes, her shoulders must be covered. Sharp, defiant make-up was not acceptable.
She was to address the Pope as Holy Father or Your Holiness, keep the proper distance, not sit with her legs crossed, not put her elbows on the armrests, not lean or crouch in front of him, approach him only if he wanted her to kiss his ring.
The amount of information she received overwhelmed her; she took a quick look in her wardrobe and found that her simple black dress with white embroidered collar and cuffs was the perfect length – it had no cleavage, it looked elegant, innocent and girly at the same time.
She decided to wear flesh-coloured tights with it and sleek black shoes, which she had previously polished. She styled her long dark hair in a braid around her head, keeping it in place with pins, short, unruly strands on the sides of her face.
She used only mattifying powder and mascara as her make-up, deciding that this was enough, around her neck a necklace with a small gold cross that she had been given once by her grandfather.
At the appointed hour, a black car pulled up in front of her townhouse; she got into the back seat and greeted the driver, who, however, did not answer her, driving off without a word.
After several minutes they were already in the Vatican itself; she looked through the car window at the crowds of people spilling out of St Peter's Square, saw a group of men and women holding cardboard sheets in their hands with the handwritten words:
Our Pope does not love us.
She lowered her gaze, silently contemplating all that was happening, and shuddered as they stopped in front of the gate – a Swiss Guard officer dressed in colourful historical attire with red, yellow and navy blue stripes stopped their car.
Her driver showed him his ID and the man nodded – the gate opened and they drove inside into a small courtyard that she saw for the first time in her life.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the figure of her uncle waiting for her in his full, opulent cardinal's robe, a cross on his chest of pure gold, adorned with rubies and diamonds.
He greeted her with a broad smile and joy, with a gesture of his hand inviting her inside – they ascended the baroque staircase to the corridor, the view of the interior of the entire complex took her breath away.
She was surrounded on all sides by paintings and sculptures by the great Italian masters of the Renaissance, Baroque and Classicism; she felt a solemn mood, though she did not know why, as if she had in fact entered the truest home of God himself on earth.
The guards as well as other men passing her looked at her intently – she thought with horror and shame that women, with the exception of nuns, were a rare visitor to this sanctuary and aroused curiosity mixed with distrust.
Here, what Eve did in paradise according to the Bible, because of whom sin possessed man, was never forgotten.
They climbed the stairs to the upper floor and then stood in front of a large white door, high up to the ceiling, with two men in the same colourful garments standing in front of them. Her uncle sighed heavily, as if stressed himself, and looked at her comfortingly.
"I'll do the talking, you keep quiet for now." He said lightly, surprising her completely – she had no time to reply as he nodded and one of the guards opened the door for him.
Her uncle moved ahead, so she moved behind him, entering a spacious, bright room with six windows overlooking St Peter's Square – to their right stood bookcases filled to the brim with books, and to their left a huge wooden desk.
Only after a moment did she notice someone standing by one of the windows; his back turned to them, looking out at the crowds knowing they couldn't see him, a white cassock on his body, his short hair looking elegant and carefully styled, pulled back, almost white, glistening in the sunlight.
"Holy Father. As promised, I bring before you my niece, who I hope will allow us to come to an agreement." He said in a light, cheerful tone, as if addressing a friend, but they were answered by an uncomfortable silence.
She swallowed loudly when he finally turned to face them, her heart stopped for a moment when she saw how sharply shaped his face was – his cheeks and jaw were clearly outlined as if someone had carved them with a chisel, his mouth full, a pale scar running across the left side of his forehead to his cheek, his artificial eye completely white.
She felt that she was looking at him with her lips slightly parted and some sort of concern, so she lowered her gaze, reminding herself that she shouldn't do that.
"Hm." She heard him hum under his breath, as if he was thinking hard about something.
"Leave us alone, Cardinal." He said finally, turning his face towards the window again – she and her uncle looked at each other horrified, for this was not their plan.
She was only going to be an accessory, he was going to be the one doing all the talking.
"Your Holiness, I…"
"Get out."
Her uncle pressed his lips together and grunted, bowed his head and left, not even bestowing a glance on her despite the despair written on her face, leaving her to her fate.
She swallowed loudly as the door closed behind him and intertwined her hands in front of her, not knowing what to do, where to look, a cold sweat on her back.
"Do not be afraid, child. I know your uncle's nature. If I didn't let him bring you here he wouldn't let me alone." He began reluctantly, as if the very fact that he had to talk to her made him very tired; he moved with his hands entwined behind him ahead, walking along the windows, his profile illuminated by the sun.
She lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of shame surge through her, understanding that he knew perfectly well what her uncle wanted.
That it wasn't just about his image, but that he, as a cardinal, wanted his favour and the high position, money and comfort he could give him.
"What do you think of my decision not to show myself in public?" He asked finally; she raised her eyes at him, surprised, horrified that she had to answer. She swallowed loudly and licked her lips, dry of stress, thinking intensely about what she should say.
"Go on. You're supposed to know it, after all, it's an image issue." He growled and looked at her with an anger that sent a shiver through her; she stared at him in disbelief and fear trying to decide what kind of man he was.
She wasn't sure this was how a pope should behave.
"Driving here I saw people holding cardboard sheets saying: Our Pope does not love us. I felt sadness at the thought that many people feel rejected by your decision, Holy Father." She said at last, feeling that involuntarily her voice trembled and broke; she saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils moved nervously in accelerated breathing.
"Is love a perpetual vying for attention, standing in the centre? Is love only the deeds that can be shown, that anyone can see and name?" He asked frustrated, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, her lower lip quivered. She shook her head.
"People are afraid of what they do not know. You don't let them meet you, Holy Father." She whispered, and he snorted, turning back, going the other way, as if thinking over her words.
"So you think I should speak? Go out on the balcony and give them what they want?" He asked dryly. She let the air quietly out of her lungs, feeling her body tense all over – she had the feeling that she had adopted a defensive posture, as if ready for him to hit her.
"No. But I think it is necessary to find a way in which they can see you, Holy Father. To feel that you are in their lives physically as well. They need a guide, not another invisible God." She said finally and fell silent, lowering her gaze, feeling that her last sentence might have been too far-fetched.
She noticed with horror that he stopped hearing what she had said.
"You think I'm doing this out of vanity?" He asked in disbelief. She lifted her gaze to him, for some reason feeling that she was on the verge of crying.
"I don't know, Holy Father. I do not know you, nor do any of your faithful. We are sheeps who do not know where to go and where is their shepherd. Do you think we are too sinful? That we don't deserve to see you?" She asked finally in a trembling voice, his healthy eye fixed on her.
Our Pope does not love us.
She shuddered, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart as he moved towards her with a slow, lazy step, not taking his eyes off her, towering over her. She didn't know what she saw in his gaze, proud and cool; she felt heat in her lower abdomen as the pleasant scent of his masculine perfume filled her nostrils.
She thought he had approached her far too closely.
She froze and swallowed loudly as he lifted his hand; she thought for a moment in horror and disbelief that he would touch her breasts, however, he grasped her golden cross in his hand and turned it between his fingers, looking at it thoughtfully.
Something about him she found disturbing, even though she was surrounded by whiteness and daylight it seemed to her that the room had gone dark.
"I am not a hypocrite. There is no greater sinner in this world than me. I am vain. I am proud. I am cold. I am eternally, eternally thirsty." He murmured softly and looked into her eyes, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.
She felt panic begin to overtake her body as her insides throbbed wonderfully hard at his ambiguous, unsettling words.
"Do you believe in God?" He asked, still playing with her necklace, however, he did so in such a way that once in a while his fingers rubbed against the material of her dress lying between her breasts, each time a wonderful shiver ran through her spine.
She was only able to breathe and look at him, nothing more.
There was something evil, menacing, lewd in the way he asked the question, in the way he acted and the way he looked at her and she knew it, she was horrified by how strongly her body reacted to it.
"Yes." She whispered, as if she was admitting something she was ashamed of, something that was her secret.
He hummed again under his breath, as if accepting her words – his hand let go of her necklace and returned to the other, placed behind his back.
"I'm hiring you. You will be my image specialist. I expect you here tomorrow at 8am. That's all. You may go." He said indifferently, turning away as if nothing had happened; she sighed quietly, terrified, and nodded with a rapidly pounding heart.
"Holy Father." She mumbled, then turned and walked out.
Her uncle ran after her asking her what they were talking about and what had happened – he made the sign of the cross with some kind of relief on his face when she told him in horror that he had hired her.
"What did you say to him about me? I'm only in my second year of university, I don't have the right experience yet." She muttered in a trembling voice; her uncle sighed, correcting his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger.
"He doesn't care about your experience." He said amused, and she looked at him in disbelief.
It suddenly dawned on her what her uncle had been planning all along, and what she had gotten herself into because of her foolishness and naivety.
There is no greater sinner in this world than me.
I am eternally, eternally thirsty.
She felt a squeeze in her throat, tears filling her eyes again as she moved forward, covering her mouth with her hand, distraught, humiliated.
Her uncle didn't want her to be his worker.
Her uncle wanted her to be his lover.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fanfic#aemond#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x oc#dark aemond smut#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond angst#modern dark aemond#dark modern aemond#modern aemond angst#modern aemond#modern aemond smut#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond x female#aemond fanfic#aemond fandom#ewan mitchell fandom#house of the dragon fandom#hotd fandom#hotd fanfiction
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— when you stand up for him
Masterlist.
Warnings: 18+, v v suggestive, Bakugou’s always having nasty thoughts about you, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.9k.
Since you’d started working at Dynamight’s agency you’d found out firsthand how defamatory the media could be. There was often a mixture of positive and negative headlines for all the Pro-Heroes in the top fifty, some more negative than others. Cellophane had been stuck in a messy situation just last week when a saucy text chain had been leaked to the press, the lewd messages accompanied by a rather salacious picture of him in a state of undress. Obviously an attempt by the media to paint him in a bad light, but it actually ended up thrusting him into the top ten.
“He woulda sent that fuckin’ dick pic to anyone that asked.” Bakugou scoffed when you’d told him, grinning at the cheesy headline “Cellophane stuck in a sticky situation.”
But in particular, the media seemed hellbent on making a villain out of Dynamight. A well-known fact that they knew sold papers. His brash personality and fiery quirk made him an easy target for those sleazy tabloids to ridicule. Painting the perfect picture of Number One Pro-Hero Deku, and demonising the Number Two who was always hiding in his shadow.
Of course, the media scrutiny didn’t bother Bakugou much, far used to these words for them to have any real bite. The judgement seemed to have followed him since he was a teenager, and he’d spent the better part of his adult years trying to prove himself through his actions. And although you didn’t know it, your opinion meant far more to Bakugou than a handful of gossip magazines.
It wasn’t unusual for these reporters to call through to the Dynamight agency, especially after a successful mission. Each outlet wanting to be the first to get the scoop hot off the press from the main man himself, but fortunately for Bakugou you were the final roadblock between them and the Pro-Hero.
Most of the time you could weed through the good calls and the bad, finding the best opportunities for Dynamight to showcase himself to the world and add those precious boosts to his hero ranking. Knowing firsthand how much Bakugou hated any kind of interview environment, preferring to showcase himself through his hard work, you were careful with the engagements that you picked. The few he did were always enough to keep him sitting comfortable in second place.
You groaned when you realised who you’d ended up with on the phone, the lead journalist for The Heroic Choice, a controversial tabloid that had just published a rather scathing article about Pro-Hero Welder. And you were certain judging by the “direct” quotes that most had been stretched out of context to fit their narrative.
“Thanks for taking our call,” The voice spoke on the other end of the line, not that you’d had much choice, “Dynamight hasn’t responded to any of our emails, so I thought it best to try and reach you directly.”
“Yes, well Dynamight’s a very busy hero.” You spoke through gritted teeth.
“Oh, we’ve heard. We had a very concerned reader call in earlier to tell us that Dynamight almost killed someone again—” You were already seething at the accusation when the reporter continued, “How many totalled buildings is it this year? The budget must be at breaking point by now, or is it less a budget and more hush money for the victims? Almost as bad as a villain, wouldn’t you agree?”
You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment. Some would probably argue that it was the amount of love that you had built inside you for Bakugou Katsuki that made you want to protect and defend him with your life, or it could’ve just been the fact that being his secretary meant you got to see a side of him that no one else was lucky enough to see. The Hero that dedicated so many hours of his life to protecting the city and its residents, putting his own life at risk to ensure that people made it home safely to their loved ones. The countless amount of times you’d visited him in hospital or done a rather bootleg patch up of his injuries in his office after hours. The scars that now littered his body each held their own story of a time where Dynamight put others before himself, and you weren’t about to let some gossipy B-rate magazine besmirch him. Especially to try and call him, the man that would give his life for others, a villain.
So you did what Bakugou probably would’ve done, you exploded.
You weren’t even sure where it came from, certain in the months that you’d been working for Dynamight you’d never once let your temper get the best of you, even with particularly troublesome callers. His personality must have been rubbing off on you, as you continued to argue back and forth with the man on the phone, your voice increasing in power the more he argued back.
The noise roused Bakugou from his mission report, crimson eyes looking up from his laptop as he tried to make out the shouting on the other side of his office wall. Pushing his desk chair back as he dropped his glasses on top of his laptop he made his way towards the hallway, thinking that another person was harassing you for some kind of Dynamight endorsement deal again. Tugging open the door Bakugou prepared himself to tell whoever it was to leave and stop pissing off his secretary but he was shocked to see you shouting on the phone.
“Dynamight is the greatest Hero of our generation and we’re lucky to have someone like him protecting our streets. There’s no telling what could happen if we didn’t have him. Did you know violent crime is down twelve percent since he entered the top ten? And that’s not including the crime syndicates he’s managed to infiltrate in the last three months—”
Bakugou had to stop in the doorframe at the sound of you listing off facts about him so effortlessly. Mouth agape like a fish out of water as he began to wonder who you were on the phone to, and how they had managed to rile you up to this extent.
You hadn’t even noticed him standing there as you continued to berate the caller, asking them whether they had looked up any crime statistics or whether they were just interested in a sleazy headline.
Bakugou didn’t know what to say, standing outside his office as he stared at you between furrowed brows. After hearing shouting outside, he hadn’t expected it to be coming from you, and he definitely hadn’t expected it to be because you were defending him to the media.
It had Bakugou’s chest swelling with pride as he continued to hear you list of reasons why Dynamight would never do an interview with The Heroic Choice, not that he needed you to tell them that. He could’ve easily given them his own list of reasons, the main one being their scathing reviews of anyone other than Pro-Hero Deku. His throat felt dry as he watched your eyes darken as you continued to argue with them on the phone, nostrils flared as he tried to fight the blood rushing directly between his thighs.
God, you were so fuckin’ perfect.
He’d never had anyone defend him to such a level, and it made it even more special that it happened to be you doing it— the woman he was so madly in love with. Even the shy, wide-eyed look you gave him when you noticed him watching you made his heart flutter as you exchanged the last few words with the tabloid over the phone.
You’d been so heated you hadn’t even noticed Bakugou shamelessly ogling you while you were on the telephone, although you were certain he’d heard you. Your voice at least a few octaves louder than necessary, but you couldn’t help it. The realisation you had an audience now dawning on you as you gave your boss a sheepish smile.
“I’m so sorry about that, sir.” You practically gushed as soon as you slammed the phone down, which immediately began ringing again, “It just makes me so mad, they talk like they know you but they really don’t know you at all—”
“Next time, get me.” He rasped, mainly because you didn’t deserve dealing with assholes like that on the phone, but also because Bakugou wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive you taking another call like that without blowing his load in public. The thought of having to spend the rest of the day in damp boxers had him squirming as he turned around.
“Yes, sir. I know I should’ve, but he made me so angry. I’m sorry.” No matter how many times he told you not to call him sir, you would do it anyway and it did nothing to quell the ache in his pelvis.
“Take five.” Bakugou grumbled.
“Thank you si— Bakugou.” You stopped yourself with a smile as you stood up from the desk hesitantly.
Bakugou practically waddled back into his office, trying to conceal the tent between his thighs from your praise. The overprotective words had his cock throbbing as he tried to calm his racing heart, and it didn’t help you’d said his name. Slamming his office door a little harder than intended as he pressed his back to the hardwood. Eyes screwed shut as Bakugou made a feeble attempt at steadying his breathing, before glaring down at the obvious bulge. Silently willing it to disappear as he prayed you hadn’t seen it.
But Bakugou had left so abruptly with barely a word that you began to worry that you’d done the wrong thing, remembering Creati’s words one evening when she had been visiting the agency. “All press can be good press if you orchestrate it correctly.” Maybe Bakugou really was mad at you for losing your temper on the phone to one of Musutafu’s biggest tabloids, you’d definitely guaranteed another negative Dynamight article about him. Your eyes glancing over to the shut door to his office as you gnawed your glossed lip between your teeth, pondering whether you should knock on the door to apologise. The phone began to ring again as you were making that decision, opting to pick it up and hopefully do some kind of damage control for his important public image. Hoping that the PR team wouldn’t find out just how hostile you’d been on the phone to a company representative. You had no idea that on the other side of the door, your boss was losing his cool because of you, but not for the reason you thought.
About a week later The Heroic Choice ended up posting their scathing article about Dynamight anyway, although it did little to smear his hero rating. Instead the article seemed to focus on his fiery little secretary who was seemingly even more tenacious than his newly appointed sidekicks.
“Dynamight’s secretary even more explosive than him? More on page six.” It was accompanied by a picture of you that Bakugou was certain they’d managed to take from one of your social media profiles.
You’d been so embarrassed when Bakugou had shown you the magazine with a smirk, highlighting his favourite parts of the article which happened to be the direct quotes of you defending his tenacity and altruism.
What you didn’t know was Bakugou had cut out this article and pinned it to the fridge inside his apartment, grinning at it whenever he passed. The picture they’d picked of you was real fucking pretty after all— it wasn’t his fault that it brought back the memories of you defending him every time he looked at it, his cock standing to attention when he remembered how irate you’d looked that day. Somehow it made you even prettier… But of course, he’d never tell you that.
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everyone’s but no one’s | n.jm
pairing: fuckboy!jaemin x college student!reader (ft. sungchan)
genre: college!au, roommates-to-lovers!au, fluff, angst
word count: 19.4k
description: in which your roommate is the guy every girl on campus either slept with or want to sleep with and you have had bad experiences with fuckboys before.
warning(s): alcohol, mention of sex, mention of past relationship traumas (cheating, lying)
taglist; @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @sugazwrld (only tagged the people that seemed to be active still, tell me if you want to be removed or added for the next ones)
a/n: this is apart of my new series of roommates-to-lovers with the dreamies, sweet life. i feel like this one is so messy.
main masterlist
suddenly changing university in the middle of your first year was definitely something you didn’t plan but unfortunately the course you chose for your second semester was suddenly moved to their other uni in seoul and apparently they ‘forgot’ to inform the students so a bunch of you had to prepare to move to seoul for the last or change your course. you took some time to decide because you really wanted to stay where you were. the uni was not that far from your house, so you didn’t need to move into a dorm which save you lots of money but on the other hand, you were really excited for that course. so you decided to pack enough clothes for a few days and went to seoul during your summer break, in search of a place to stay.
once you were in seoul, you quickly visited the university you were soon going to attend and asked the secretary if there was any way for you to know if someone on campus needed a roommate. the male assistant directed you towards a board where papers with numbers of students searching for a roommate were scatter. you picked a few tickets with numbers on them along with a picture of their respective flyer.
all you wanted was to find someone nice enough to accept you as a roommate, someone you could maybe be friends with and hang out with. you didn't expect to 'audition' to be one, but at this point, you spent almost your whole summer break looking for a place to stay and you were desperate. you’ve called multiple people, but it seemed like the university didn’t update the board at all because most of the people you ended up calling had either already found someone or moved out of their old place. only one person responded positively to your call but what happened afterwards was pretty unusual. you had to answer multiple questions and pass multiple 'rounds' to finally have someone telling you they'll call you back. you were almost sure you went to the wrong place until one day, when you were watching netflix on the couch of your airbnb, someone called you and told you that you were 'selected' to be the new roommate.
you thought that the process was really weird, i mean who says, 'you've been selected to move in'.
at first, you thought that maybe it was all a scam and that maybe you were going to be kidnap but the guy who asked you all the questions seemed to be around your age and quite nice.
the next day, you took your suitcase, that contained all the things you could bring to seoul, and took a taxi to your new apartment. the building was pretty far from your university, so you had to take the public transportation, but you were okay with it because it was the only place that was available and affordable for your broke ass. it was a pretty simple apartment building with two elevators and a guard. you thanked god for the entrance that was facing an open street rather than an alleyway.
you knocked on the door with one hand while the other one was resting on the mini pepper spray in your pocket just in case. a pretty cute guy opened the door greeting you with a smile, ”oh you must be y/n, right?”, he asked after spotting your suitcase. you nodded and he stepped aside, opening the door wider for you to come in.
“nice to meet you...?”
“jaemin, na jaemin.”, he gave you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“nice to meet you, jaemin. not to be rude but are you living here too? i thought the guy who asked me all the questions the other day was the only one living here.”
“oh, chenle? nah, his apartment is much nicer than this one. i just asked him to take in some candidatures while i was working and from what i've heard he went a little overboard with the interviews...”
you chuckled at his words. 'overboard' was indeed a way to describe chenle's method.
jaemin then showed you your room and you were happy that it already had all the furniture you needed so that you wouldn’t have to waste more time furniture shopping. you told your new roommate that all of your other stuff were arriving tomorrow just so that he wouldn’t be surprised by the temporary mess that will be present in the living room in a few hours.
you woke up to an empty apartment and a note on the kitchen counter.
hey, i went to work and i’ll be back this afternoon. i made breakfast, it’s still on the stove. enjoy~ -your cute roommate ;)
you tasted the food jaemin left for you, and it was surprisingly really good. you didn’t expect him to be that good of a cook.
when you received a call from the driver of the moving truck your parents hired, you immediately made your way down to the front of the building and were welcomed by a nice looking man by the name of taeil, he even helped you carry them in and out of the elevator on your floor. you thanked the man as he left and started to carry your boxes from the hallways into your living room. after some time, you really started to curse yourself for having so many things, your arms started to ache and your back started to hurt a little. you almost had a heart attack every time the elevator opened and one of your neighbors stepped out, giving you a weird look.
“oh my god, you scared me!”, you jumped at the sudden interruption in your silence, almost dropping the box in your hands, “do you want some help?”, he said, holding his arms out so you could give him the box.
“it’s okay, i’m almost done anyway.”, you gave the stranger a smile.
“alright. i’m hyunjin by the way. you’re jaemin’s new roommate, right?”
“yeah, are you going to seoul marketing as well?"
hyunjin nodded, "what are you majoring in?"
"international exchange and you?"
"business administration.", he answered as you arrived in front of your respective door, "well see around and...good luck...with jaemin.", he smirked, knowingly.
you furrowed your eyebrows, understanding that he was implying something but not knowing what it was, "what do you mean?"
"well...you know...", he smiled, eyes expressing something you couldn't decipher. upon seeing the look on your face, his expression changed to one of confusion, "you don't?"
"i just transfer from the gwangju branch so i don't really know anything about what's going on here."
"oooh.", hyunjin nodded as he understood now why you didn't know what everybody knew, "well, jaemin's a pretty notorious fuckboy and you being...", he said, his hand showing you.
" i see. i'll keep that in mind, thanks.", you said before entering your new apartment.
you really couldn't escape them, could you?
"hey, roommie! dinner's ready!", jaemin called you from the kitchen.
you walked into the kitchen confused as you saw jaemin setting two plates down onto the small table for two.
"oh. you didn't have to. i was going to order something.", you said, feeling guilty.
"i'm saving you money. we're student, we're broke."
jaemin wasn't wrong. you didn't often eat out but since you spent your whole day opening boxes and arranging your room, you were too tired to make yourself something to eat, plus, you didn't have time to go grocery shopping.
"you should have called me to help you.", you said.
"it's alright. consider this a welcome diner.", he smiled in a way that made you wonder how that soft face of his could be one of a fuckboy.
you sat opposite him and looked at the pasta dish in front of you.
"i made gochugang pasta."
"gochugang pasta?"
the combo sounded weird to you but gochugang and pasta were good separately so why not together. you picked up the fork by your plate and tasted jaemin's dish. you didn't notice but he patiently waited for your reaction. as soon as the pasta touched your taste buds, your eyes widened in surprise. you chew and nodded at the same time, "woah. that's really good!", you complimented.
jaemin smiled in satisfaction, saying, "glad you like it, i got the recipe from a friend."
you continued to eat in silence for a while before jaemin broke it, "what are you majoring in?"
"international exchange, what about you?", you asked.
"retail communication. why did you...transfer here, if you don't mind me asking?", jaemin was quite hesitant to ask since it could be a sensitive topic.
"a course i chose for this semester was moved to seoul so i decided to move with it. it was either that or change it to something boring so..."
"i see. tomorrow's your first day, right? i can give you a ride to campus if you want."
"oh you don't have to-"
"i insist. it'll be dumb to let you use public transports when i can just drive you. it's not like it's somewhere i wasn't going too."
"thanks...again."
what your neighbor told you have been on your mind the moment you closed the door to your apartment after speaking with him. you've frequented a handful of fuckboys in your life so you knew to stay away from them. you didn't know what type of fuckboy jaemin's was yet but you sure were going to be careful and not get involve more than necessary with him.
the next day when you arrived on campus with jaemin by your side, some people stared at the two of you, whispering among themselves, thinking you wouldn't be able to hear.
"who is that?"
"probably his new toy of the moment."
"too bad, i was hoping it'll be my turn."
"just wait a week and he'll be over her."
you rolled your eyes, annoyed by all the stares and whispers. you really hated how people could be so foul behind your back. jaemin noticed and felt guilty since his reputation was impacting you.
"you know the way to your first class, right?", jaemin asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nodded, taking your schedule out of your tote bag, "okay, see you later, ROOMMATE.", he almost shouted the last word, shutting down all whispers. you smiled at him in gratitude before walking to your first class of the semester.
you took a seat in the middle rows of the auditorium waiting for the class to start.
"hey. is this place available?", someone asked, pointing to the seat next to yours. you nodded and the person smiled at you, sitting down, "i'm ryujin, by the way. everyone seemed to be with their own friends so i hope you don't mind me being next to you."
"not at all. i actually just transferred here so i literally just know my roommate."
"oh really?"
"i'm y/n, by the way."
"who's your roommate? maybe i know them."
"everyone seems to know him...", you said, "na jaemin is my roommate."
"oh.", ryujin's eyes widen as she stayed silent for a second, her lips forming the letter 'o'.
"is he that bad?"
"he is not bad...just very very popular."
"i heard he was a fuckboy but i didn't think it would be that big of a thing. people stared at me when we arrived together this morning, like we were some kind of reality show or something."
"he's not just 'a' fuckboy, he's 'the' fuckboy. he practically put out of business 90% of the fuckboys in this uni."
"what really?", you didn't know if you should be impressed or disgusted.
ryujin nodded at your statement, "everyone knows though that if they get with him, it's not gonna last. of course, some are still delusional and think they can 'change him'."
you nodded, acknowledging her words. you couldn't judge those girls, having been of that same path too many times.
your professor entered the room, silencing every conversation going on. you focused on your class, pushing all thoughts concerning your roommate to the back of your mind.
going grocery shopping after class, want to come?
jaemin texted you during your last class.
sure
you responded. you needed to go grocery shopping anyway since you just moved in and had nothing to feed yourself at the apartment. so you found yourself in the snack aisle with jaemin by your side, helping him debate whether or not he should buy two packets of gummies or only one.
"you know what? take your time. i'll go get some other things.", you said before walking to another aisle.
after five good minutes on debating with himself, jaemin put one gummy packet down and went on his way to find you with the shopping cart. he spotted you in front of a sample stand, jumping up and down, looking at what an ahjumma was making.
"what got you all excited, bunny?", he asked with a grin as he stopped the shopping cart near you.
you didn't notice the nickname he called you, being too focused on the ahjumma, "they have those dumplings here!", you said, excitedly pointing at the food, "i grew up eating those."
the ahjumma smiled at your excitement and so did jaemin. she cut a piece of dumpling in two, stabbing them with two toothpicks.
"here, try it.", you handed one to jaemin as you ate yours, but the boy just ate it from the toothpick you were holding instead of taking it himself, making you feed him, "woah, tastes just like i remember it. do we have some place in the freezer?"
jaemin thought about it for a moment before nodding.
"i'll take two bags of these, please!", you smiled at the ahjumma.
"aigoo~ aren't you two a cute couple? your girlfriend is really cute!", she cooed, giving jaemin the bags of dumplings.
your eyes widened at the remark, ready to politely correct the lady but jaemin beat you to it, "yeah, isn't she?"
that wasn't what you expected him to say. you gave him a look of confusion as he ignored you, smiling at the ahjumma.
"aigoo~ here, take this!", she handed you a coupon for a discount on the dumplings you were going to buy.
"thank you!", you both bowed to the older woman before walking away.
"what was that?", you asked.
"what was what?"
"that whole girlfriend/couple thing?"
"calm down. didn't want to make the ahjumma sad, did you? plus, we got a discount. a friend of mine told me things like that work."
you two got in line to pay your groceries and when jaemin put a separator between his snacks and your groceries, you removed it, saying, "i'll pay for your snacks."
"no, it's fine.", he said, reaching out for the separator you put back but you stopped by grabbing his wrist.
"i'm paying. take it as a thank you for the dinner last night and for driving me to uni today."
"well, you're welcome, and thank you.", jaemin smiled.
you understood why jaemin was so popular. you just had to look at him. his dyed blonde hair always looked perfect, having that messy but sexy style. his personality seemed sweet as well, at least on the outside. if you'd have met him a couple years back, you would have totally fell for him.
"by the way, i usually go grocery shopping on saturdays, every other week. just tell me if you'll want to tag along.", jaemin told you.
"hey, bunny, we're having a movie night wanna join?", jaemin asked you, popping his head in your room through your door.
"who's we? and stop with the nicknames.", you whined, getting up from your bed and opening your door fully before getting out.
"how can i when your reaction's so cute?", jaemin said, making you roll your eyes.
one thing you learned about jaemin from living with him 24/7 was that it was in his second nature to flirt. one of his flirting habits was giving people nicknames. he had called you many since you started living together. from roommie to babe to baby to bunny. bunny was the one he used the most on daily basis. it was weird at first since you thought he was hitting on you or something but you learned that it was just something he was used to doing when you heard him call other people nicknames as well. it even made you wonder if he didn't just forget the names.
"does he always have to be like that?", you asked no one in particular as you walked to the living room.
"always and that's not the worse of him.", a third party sitting on your couch said.
"jeno, this is bunny. bunny, this is my friend, jeno."
"i'm y/n.", you quickly corrected, "so what are we watching?"
"the last violet evergarden movie."
"ooh, so we're gonna need tissues.", you walked to the kitchen table and grabbed the box of tissues on it to put it on your coffee table in front of your couch.
you didn't expect the first person to shed tears to be jaemin. he was full on sobbing, monopolizing the box of tissue to himself. jeno and you gave each other a look before looking back at jaemin who was sitting between the two of you.
"aiya, stop sobbing so hard, we can't hear the movie.", you joked, patting his shoulder.
"you can read the subtitles. i'm saaaad!", jaemin whined while dropping side ways, his head landing on your lap as he kicked his feet on jeno's lap. you were surprised by the gesture at first and looked at jeno to see his reaction.
his friend looked like he was used to it and kept watching the movie. feelings eyes on him, he turned to face you and you just looked down at jaemin and back at jeno with a questioning look.
'you'll get used to it.', jeno mouthed to you before returning his attention to the tv.
you sighed, looking down at the boy on your lap, "get snot on my pajamas and i'll make you cry harder than this movie.", you warned, even thought your whispers were soft, your threat was very real.
you put your hands on top of his head, having no where else to put them since jaemin literally took all the space that was available. your focus was back on the movie completely forgetting jaemin's head until you realized one of your hands was stroking his hair softly. you immediately stopped the habit you picked up through your years of dating and crossed your arms over your chest to stop yourself from doing it again. you thought you heard a whine before jaemin raised one of his arms and waved it around in your direction. you frowned, grabbing it to stop him from hitting you right in the face by inadvertence. jaemin's other hand grabbed your hand holding his arm and put it back in his hair. you didn't move at first, not really sure of what he wanted. jaemin started moving his head around and you finally understood, he just wanted you to play with his hair again. it's been a while since you've been this domestic and to be honest you kind of missed it.
no.
stop thinking about that.
when the credits started rolling, jaemin sat right up, declaring, "i need to drink and talk about my feelings.", he was being dramatic about the feelings part and just wanted to chitchat.
"i don't drink but i'm down for the talk.", you shrugged.
"sorry, gotta go. roommate emergency.", jeno said, raising his phone.
jeno bid his goodbyes and left your roommate and you alone, "still down for drinks and gossip?", jaemin asked you.
"sure.", you said from the couch, stretching your legs on it.
"what do you want to drink?", jaemin asked from the kitchen as he stood in front of the open fridge.
"i bought a bottle of peach juice. it's coral."
"got it!", you heard him open your cupboards in search for glasses, "do you want a glass, a cup or...?"
"just give me a soju glass as well.", your turned to look at jaemin to see him already looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, "what? it's so you wouldn't feel alone."
"gee, thanks.", jaemin said, sarcastically, as he made his way back to the living room.
"thank you.", you said, as jaemin put everything down onto the table.
"you don't drink at all?"
"i do drink sometimes. i cut back on the alcohol because i used to drink my brains out and forget everything that happened after my fifth drink.", you sat up, reaching for the bottle of peach juice.
"understandable. what kind of drunk are you?", jaemin asked, sitting on the couch.
"from what i heard, i'm quite the hoe but again i was always horny so that may have contributed. i haven't been drunk in a while, you? what kind of drunk is the infamous fuckboy na jaemin?"
jaemin rolled his eyes at the title, "you can say i'm quite the hoe as well."
"shocker.", you said, sarcastically.
jaemin rolled his eyes again, "not nice, bunny. i just get clingy. don't mind me if i start hugging you, you can just push me away."
"i'm fine with that as long as you don't try to get in my pants."
"me? i'm not like that, bunny.", he said jokingly making you two laugh, "more seriously, when i'm drunk drunk, i'm never horny, that's why i don't drink a lot at parties.", he winked at the end which made you make an exaggerated gagging expression.
"anyway, how have you been acclimating so far?"
"good. i made some friends, shin ryujin and yoo jimin.", you stopped in your story, as something came to your mind, "did you fuck them?"
"mmmh, haven't fucked them...yet.", he said the last word with a grin after moving his upper body closer to you.
"you're disgusting.", you said, pushing his head back.
"i was jokiiing!", he whined, rubbing his forehead and taking a shot of soju as you rolled your eyes.
"so what's your fuckboy story?", you asked, sipping on your peach juice.
"fuckboy story?", jaemin looked at you with a confused look. you could see he was already a bit tipsy thanks to his rosy cheeks.
"every fuckboy has that one girl that broke them so much that they take their revenge by using the rest of the female population?"
"that's...", jaemin stopped himself, struggling to find a word to describe what he wanted to say, "anyway, i don't have one.", he said, giving up.
"what do you mean you don't have one? you're just being a jerk without any reason?"
"you're hurting my little heart with your harsh words.", jaemin said, placing his hands on the left side of his chest with a pout on his face.
jaemin looked really cute right now. you had to give him credit when it was due.
"do you even have one?", you were only joking when you said this but then jaemin started to bawl his eyes out. you thought he was joking at first, but when the tears didn't stop, you started to wonder if the two bottles of soju he just consumed made him more sensitive, "woah, woah, woah. i was just joking! stop crying, please?", you panicked. you put your glass down and scooted closer to your roommate, "jaemin, stop please.", you shook his shoulders softly to get his attention but he didn't stop, continuing to sob loudly, "pretty, pleeaase?", you decided to stroke his ego and it worked.
the cries suddenly stopped and jaemin looked at you with a big smile, "you called me pretty!"
you looked at him with a deadpanned look on your face, "come on. time to stop drinking. it's getting late and you're obviously drunk.", you grabbed your two empty glasses and bottles of soju along with your peach juice and put them away in the kitchen, quickly washing the glasses.
you expected jaemin to be sleeping in his room after you finished tidying things up but he was still sitting on the couch.
"jaemin...what did i say?", you put your fists on your hips like a mom scolding her child.
"but i don't want to sleep.", jaemin whined.
"we have class tomorrow, you have to sleep."
"bu-"
"no buts. come on.", you grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. thankfully, he didn't resist at all or you'd have struggled a lot more with your non existent strength.
you tucked him in bed and turned around to go back to your room but jaemin stopped you, asking, "where are you going?"
"back to my room? to sleep?"
"why can't you sleep here?", jaemin whined, patting the empty space next to him.
"because we're not that close."
"why can't we be?"
"because.", you saw jaemin pout even more at your answer and sighed. you walked towards him again and patted his head, "goodnight, jaemin. i'm going to choke you if you don't go to sleep."
"i'd like that.", jaemin muttered before closing his eyes and cuddling into his covers.
that night you discovered a new side to your roommate and you much preferred that side to the one he usually showed. and jaemin kept thinking about your question. that one girl he will never forget.
"hey, bunny. i'm going out, don-", jaemin shouted from the living room but got interrupted by you walking into room with a different than usual kind of outfit on.
"oh, you're going out too? is it 127's party?", you asked after looking at his outfit.
"yeah...", he didn't really listen to what you were saying, he just heard your last words and guessed that you were talking about the party. his eyes were too busy, scanning your figure. you were wearing a black bodycon dress with a long mesh top underneath, knee high platforms and your makeup was more suited to a night outing.
you noticed jaemin staring when you continued talking but he didn't seem to respond, and rolled your eyes, "can you turn off your fuckboy mode for one second?"
"i just didn't know you could dress up like that, princess.", the smirk on his face made you roll your eyes one more time, "what were you saying?"
"i'm going to sleep at ryujin and jimin's tonight and are you heading to the party now? to know if you could give me a ride.."
you ended up going with jaemin, texting jimin that she didn't have to pick you up. when you arrived at the party and managed to find your friends, you never saw jaemin again at that party.
since you didn't drink anymore, you were automatically the designated driver. jimin gave you her keys and the three of you had a lot of fun all night.
you met ryujin on your first day on campus and you two got along immediately. she was the one who caught you up on all the dramas going on on campus. that same day, you met jimin, ryujin's friend and roommate, who also became your friend. she was like a mom to you and took great care of ryujin and you, her two insufferable children. the two of them were worried about you living with the uni's ultimate fuckboy at first but you reassured them by telling them that you had no interest in a frugal relationship and their worries decreased as the weeks went by.
jimin was the one from whom you've learned more about jaemin's past. it was during lunch when you witnessed a scene between jaemin and his, then, current hook up. she had slapped him and ran away, hiding her face, probably crying.
"poor girl. another victim on na jaemin's list.", ryujin said, shaking her head before returning to her food.
"it's crazy how things can change.", jimin said, eyes following the girl who ran out of the cafeteria.
"what do you mean?", you asked her.
"i was in high school with jaemin and he wasn't like that back then.", you gave her a look that meant you wanted to know more, "he was quite popular back then as well but he always declined every confession he received, all really politely without sleeping with them first or anything. rumors spread about him dating someone secretly or having a crush on someone."
after hearing that, you found your roommate more mysterious than you thought him to be. at first, he seemed like some random fuckboy but the more you saw of him, the more he intrigued you.
a slap on your shoulder caught your attention.
"i don't feel so good...", ryujin screamed for you and jimin to hear as you three were dancing in the middle of the crowd.
you two stopped and looked at your friend, worried, "told you to not drink that last mix you made.", you said, shaking your head.
"do you want to throw up?", jimin asked.
ryujin shook her head, "no, i think i just need some fresh air."
"you go out front, first. i'll grab some water.", you said to jimin who seemed to still be able to act and think clearly.
luckily, the kitchen's fridge was also filled with some water bottles so you grabbed three and closed the door. turning around, you almost bumped into someone.
"oh!", the other person grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling backwards, "i was going to ask you if you wanted a drink but i see that you helped yourself already.", the boy in front of you smiled.
you looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if you knew him or not and he seemed to have picked up on it, "i'm sungchan by the way. we're in some classes together."
you nodded with a smile, "i'm y/-"
"y/n, yeah, i know.", he interrupted you, "sorry, i've been meaning to come and talk to you sooner but never seemed to know what to say.", he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. you thought he was cute.
"i'm sorry, i really have to get these to my friends.", you said, really apologetically, "but feel free to come and talk to me and my friends whenever.", you smiled before walking away. you hoped he'll come talk to you in class.
you made your way to the front yard of the frat house where ryujin and jimin were waiting for you. ryujin was lying on the grass with jimin by her side.
"hey, sorry i bumped into someone.", you said, giving them a water bottle each, "how are you feeling?"
"better.", ryujin said after gulping down 1/3 of the bottle.
"i just realized that this is our first party together.", jimin said.
"i must admit, i'm not much of a party girl anymore.", you said.
"oh really?", ryujin asked with wide eyes.
"yeah. i was the worse. i'm a lightweight but i used to drink so much, it was insane. sometimes i wonder how am i even still alive.", you joked.
"woah, i'd never think you'd be that kind of girl if you didn't tell me.", jimin commented.
"yeah, me neither."
"why did you stop?", jimin asked.
"drinking and partying too much led me to make many bad decisions on the moment.", you vaguely answered, not really in the mood to go in detail.
"i also just realized something.", ryujin said as she seemed to have sober up, "you never talk about your past. i mean you just transferred here in the middle of the year. you must miss your parents, your friends,..."
"not really. my life has been quite lonely so far.", you smiled even though it wasn't a cheerful nor happy one, "i'm glad i found you guys though.", ryujin and jimin reached out for your hand and you three stayed in a comfortable silence while holding hands, until you broke it, "do you know a sungchan?"
"who? sungchan?", ryujin tapped the side of her head, trying to remember where she heard that name before, "isn't he in one of our classes or something like that?"
"that's what he said when i bumped into him earlier, along with how he wanted to come talk to me but never could."
jimin and ryujin gave each other a look before turning back to you with a mischievous smile.
"don't start.", you warned.
"you did by asking about him.", jimin teased.
"i just wanted to know if i should be careful around him."
"from what i heard, or rather not heard, he doesn't seem to be the type to break many hearts around campus.", jimin said.
the rest of the night was kind of a blur to your two friends but you did get them home safely, tucking them in bed and leaving a bucket on the side for them to use if they ever need to urgently throw up. you were supposed to stay but you really wanted to lay in your bed and you also didn't want to take care of the vomit if there ever was. you loved these girls but your friendship limit was puke. you left jimin a note, saying that you were going to take her car to drive home and that'll you'd give it back to her the next day.
once you've drove home, parked the car, got into your building and took the elevator, you stood in front of your apartment door, rummaging through your small bag, looking for your keys, "shit."
your apartment building had a really safe security system, where you needed a special badge in order to tap in the code to your home. you facepalmed yourself, remembering the exact events that led you to being left outside your own apartment. you always put your keys on the small table next to the entrance. the moment you were putting everything in your bag was also the moment you noticed jaemin staring at you. with the conversation going on with your roommate, you forgot to take your keys on your way out.
you grabbed your phone and looked for jaemin's contact. you wondered if he was still at the party or fucking someone right now. in case it was the latter, you chose to text him.
hey, i went home but forgot my keys
if you're home, open the door when your done with whoever
if you're not then hurry when you're done?
im sorry, i'll make it up to you if i ruined anything
you waited, waited and waited. your phone was almost out of battery so you decided to not use it, just in case, jaemin called you to tell you he had a magical spare key hidden somewhere. you even contemplated ringing your neighbor's doorbell but you didn't know him and it'd be weird.
your eyes were getting heavier and heavier. you tried not to fall asleep but it was getting harder every minute that passed by. your greatest mistake was allowing your eyes to close, 'resting them for five minutes'.
jaemin was checking his phone on his way out of his last night's hook up's place when his eyes widened as he saw all your messages from the previous night or rather 2am. he rushed to his car and drove back to your shared apartment as fast as he could, almost hitting a grandma on the way. drive carefully everyone.
the elevator seemed to be extremely slow at that particular moment. when it finally arrived at your floor, jaemin rushed out, his eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor, back against your shared apartment door.
"y/n! y/n!", jaemin shook you awake.
you whined, trying to curl up on yourself.
jaemin took his badge out, beeping it on the machine next to your door and taping in the digicode. jaemin moved your back from the door to open it then proceeded to carry you bridal style.
"wooh, why am i flying?!", you panicked, immediately opening your eyes to be met with your roommate's face. you almost jumped out of his arms.
"calm down, bunny. don't hop, you're gonna hurt yourself.", jaemin smiled at you, "your hands are really cold. your whole body is."
you didn't notice your hands on the back of his neck as you instinctively tried to hold onto something, feeling your body levitating.
it's about to get really hot if you don't let me down, you thought.
"put me down, please?", you asked, almost in a whisper. your throat felt really dry, having drank nothing since you left the party.
jaemin let go of you and watched you go pour yourself a glass of water as he closed your apartment door, "i thought you were sleeping at ryujin and jimin's?"
"i was supposed to, but i didn't feel like dealing with them throwing up in the middle of the night so i went home. where were you? i thought you would have taken the chance of having the apartment to yourself to bring someone over.", you said, feeling rehydrated by the water you just drank.
"i never bring people home.", jaemin clarified.
"why?"
"feels too intimate. it's my personal space."
"i see. well, i'm going to take a hot shower and sleep for awhile. if jimin drop by, tell her i parked her car near the waffle place and give her these.", you said, showing him jimin's keys before putting them on the little dinner table.
after that night, you were careful to check if you had your keys on you every time you left the house and jaemin made sure he was home after every party. even if it meant leaving the pretty stranger he just hooked up and cuddled with for some time. he wanted to make sure that whatever happened that night, never happen again. he wanted to make sure his roommate made it home safe every night.
"hey, y/n.", a voice said, as the person sat next to you while you were talking with ryujin.
"oh, hey! sungchan, right?", you greeted. the boy nodded with a little smile, "this is my friend, ryujin."
the two greeted each other with a nod.
"you don't mind me sitting here, right?", sungchan asked, talking about the seat his actually occupying.
"it's fine. it's usually just the two of us.", you replied.
"how come we've never seen you around uni before?", ryujin asked. even though the university was pretty big, someone who looked like sungchan wouldn't go unnoticed and ryujin knew she would've heard about him at least once.
"oh, i just transferred here this semester-"
"oh? you too?", you interrupted him in shock.
"you transferred here too?", sungchan asked you with wide eyes.
you nodded, "i thought i was the only one. everyone kept telling me i was crazy."
"us too! i transferred here with my friend, shotaro."
"oh? you're friend with shotaro?", ryujin suddenly asked. the boy nodded even though he seemed confused, "he's going out with my friend, chaeryeong. even though she says they are just hanging out 'as friend' for now."
"aaaah, chaeryeong! shotaro can't stop talking about her for real, i almost want to choke him every time.", sungchan joked.
"whoa, we're really living in a small world.", you laughed.
you three stopped talking when the professor entered the room, focusing on his class and what he said.
after your class, the three of you walked to the cafeteria for lunch, "want to join us for lunch?", you asked sungchan.
"sure, can shotaro come?"
"why not.", you shrugged.
"oh i'll text chaeryeong and tell her to come as well."
"oh! good idea!", sungchan and ryujin high fived each other and got on their phone to text their respective friend which made you smile.
after getting some food, you joined jimin at your usual table, "jimin-aaaah, i missed you.", ryujin cooed at her friend.
"we saw each other this morning.", jimin replied, making ryujin pout playfully.
they were joined later on by shotaro and chaeryeong who seemed taken aback when they saw each other at first but then casually slipped into a conversation of their own.
"oh my god! you had mr.kim too?!", you said as sungchan and you started talking about your old uni.
"mmh! he was my favorite i think. his way of grading paper was the funniest."
"right?! his comments were always so interesting."
"one time he wrote 'this doesn't make any sense but i see what you mean and that scares me'. i still wonder if it's a good thing or not."
you laughed at his anecdote along with him.
"i think i kept all the papers he graded because it was just too funny to throw away. once he wrote 'i am not convinced' and three lines after that he wrote 'you convinced me'. mr kim was just the best for those kind of things."
you kept talking about uni related stuff as well as the restaurants and shops surrounding the area. you found out that you had quite a lot of things in common and he was quite an easy guy to talk to.
after a long day of what seemed like endless classes and a dinner at ryujin and jimin's place, you finally got to type in the digicode to your home. you lazily hung your coat at the entrance and removed your shoes to slip your slippers on.
you didn't expect to see jaemin drinking alone in the living room.
"hey, you okay?", you asked him as he seemed to be in some kind of trance, not even noticing your arrival.
jaemin quickly snapped out of it, quickly turning his head away from you, hands reaching for his eyes. you were alarmed by his actions and quickly made your way towards the couch. you tried to look at his face but he turned his head back the other way. you sighed and tried to turn him back towards you but he resisted. you ended grabbing his head and turning his face forcefully towards you. you wonder how you didn't snap his neck. you got worried when you saw his bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, "what happened?", you asked, sitting down next to him.
jaemin didn't answer but his mouth quickly turned into a pout and his eyes filled with tears again. you brought him in your arms and gently patted his head, letting your roommate cry in the crook of your neck.
you two weren't the closest roommates ever but you did consider him your friend. you've been living together for a few months now and had spent quite some time together from grocery shopping to cooking together to having a special night at least once a week or every two weeks to watch bridgerton together. you two grew quite fond of the show and always ended sharing the same plaid and talking about the relationships in the show.
you've never seen him cry for something else than a character death or three seconds of sad background music during an intense moment of your show, so that was new to you.
"is it that hard to believe that i am capable of getting in a relationship?", he said as he let go of you a little so you could see his face and hear him.
"well..."
jaemin sobbed even harder. it wasn't your intention to make him cry or hurt him, you just never thought that dating was something that jaemin considered, with his reputation. you thought he just wanted to live his youth.
"hey, what happened?", you asked softly.
jaemin didn't answer you and just held onto you tighter. you ran your hand through his hair in comfort, not knowing what else to do.
"you can come and talk to me anytime you want you know. i'll listen.", you offered.
you felt jaemin nod but he never told you why he cried that night.
"hurry, bunny or i'm starting without you.", jaemin shouted from the living room as you were in the kitchen. you poured the popcorn into a bowl while reading the text sungchan just sent you. jaemin noticed you smiling while holding the bowl of popcorn in one hand and typing on your phone with your other hand. he got curious when you handed him the bowl and sat next to him, not even giving him a look and still typing away on your phone.
"who are you texting?", jaemin asked in a teasing tone.
"sungchan.", you answered, putting your phone away.
"are you close? you smiled like an idiot while texting him.", he said, poking your cheek and side as he teased you.
"yah! stop!", you tried to stop his poking but failed as he managed to poke you still. after some fighting action, you managed to stop his two hands by grabbing his wrists. you pulled yourself closer to him, leaning on his side before letting go of him to grab the bowl of popcorn, "we're just friends.", you said, referring to sungchan, "he wouldn't want to date me.", you grabbed the remote and pressed play.
"why would you say that? you're a 100% dateable."
"not really.", you muttered under your breath.
it wasn't that you thought you weren't dateable. your view of love was just different from what people your age would consider normal. you've had so many failed and toxic relationship that you were scared that it was the only type of relation you could have. you also wanted something most people were scared of, even though they would never admit it; commitment.
you had gotten to know sungchan these past few weeks and you two had become quite close friends. ryujin and jimin were telling you that sungchan and you would be a really cute couple but you denied every time. not because you weren't attracted to him but as you got to know him, you discovered that he was totally the type of person you would've wanted to be your first boyfriend. he seemed too pure hearted for you to risk breaking his heart.
"you're crushing my shoulder.", jaemin complained next to you.
"could've just push me away.", you dramatically said, flying to the other end of the couch.
"nooo, come back.", he pulled onto your arm to bring you closer to him again but he pulled harder than you expected and you literally flew right onto him. your eyes went wide as you realized the position you two were in. your face was so close to his you could feel his breathing on your lips. you quickly backed away and repositioned yourself as before. jaemin didn't move for a few seconds, trying to comprehend why his heart was beating so fast when you were close to him and why it was still beating that fast when you pulled away.
you ended up, cuddling with jaemin, his arms around you, giving you warmth. from an outsider point of view, people may think that there was something going on between the two of you but it was just how you two came to act with one another. jaemin being the clingy type, you saw him back hugging his friend, jeno, when he came over to cook something or how he always found a way to pinch his younger friend's, jisung, cheeks when he came by. you just accepted his clinginess because there was no way out, you could see it on his friends' face and you also enjoy the skinship. you missed being that close with someone.
being jaemin's roommate meant that you got to witness multiple side of him that he didn't usually show in public or to people other than his close friends. he would sometimes come back home in a grumpy or sad mood and just hug you in silence. you were confused the first time it happened. it was a few days after you had found him drinking alone on your couch. you were used to his flirty side and his clinginess but nothing really prepared you for that side of him that just made you want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him some soup. above being surprised, you were worried. jaemin usually showed his cheerful and happy self so seeing him that silent with a neutral expression, worried you a lot, every time, especially because he wouldn't communicate how he felt.
once in a while, jeno, jaemin's friend who kind of became yours as well, came by to eat dinner with you two but it often ended up with you two making dinner, waiting for jaemin to get home since he recently got a part-time job.
"can you cut the onions? i'll make the rice.", you said, gathering your hair in a ponytail.
jeno nodded, quickly tying his apron and grabbing a cutting board along with a knife, "woah, look at that. we should open a restaurant.", he joked with his usual eye smile.
"just wait five minutes and i'll be throwing boiling jjigae at you while you attack me with gochugaru.", you joked back.
you heard the door open and some rustling in the entrance, "jaemin-ah! you're back?", jeno shouted from the kitchen.
jaemin passed by the living room and the kitchen without really saying anything. he just mumbled something before heading towards his room. jeno and you gave each other a look, knowing all too well this behavior of jaemin. jeno nodded towards you and then the direction in which jaemin went, his eyes saying, 'go see what's wrong.'
you frowned at him, shaking your head before repeating his actions towards him, your eyes arguing with his, 'you, go see what's wrong.'
you didn't have the time to continue arguing that you heard jaemin coming out of his room. you two quickly got back to your occupation, which was cutting vegetables for jeno and boiling water for the daenjang jjigae for you. you two focused on cooking until jaemin came into the kitchen a few minutes later, hair still wet from the shower he just took.
"why didn't you dry your hair? it's late. it's not gonna dry before you go to sleep.", you said, glancing at him as you took the vegetables jeno finished cutting to put them in the stew.
"it's alright.", jaemin said with no tone whatsoever. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you stirred the vegetables in the boiling broth. you leaned your head back on him a little as he hid his face in the crook of your neck.
it was moment like that that made jeno felt like the most third wheel of all third wheels, "i knew i should've brought hyuck and the lil chef.", he muttered to himself, concentrating on cutting the meat.
you felt wet droplets of water hitting your skin but figured it was just jaemin's wet hair so you discarded it at first. you were immediately alarmed when you suddenly heard jaemin quietly sniff. you dropped your wooden spatula on the counter and turned towards jaemin. you grabbed his face to examine it and prevent him from hiding his tears from you. your eyes soften at the view of jaemin's tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes. you didn't like seeing him cry.
"yah, can you two, old couple, get back to cooking? i'm hungry!", jeno nagged at the two of you, pointing his knife accusingly.
"who are you calling old couple? i'm not gonna fall for his fuckboy antics."
thankfully, you were the one facing jeno and not jaemin so he couldn't see his crying face.
"we'll be back.", you said, grabbing jaemin's wrist and dragging him away, "please, finish cooking for us.", you stuck your tongue out at jeno to tease him.
"what am i? your private chef?", jeno screamed after the two of you, making you laugh.
you pulled jaemin into the bathroom making him sit on the toilet after closing the lid.
"what's going on?", you asked, as you took a hair dryer out of one of the sink's drawers.
"nothing.", jaemin said, trying hard to control the tone of his voice. you turned to look at him with your hand on your hip like a mom waiting for her child to confess something, "too many things. i just got overwhelmed.", he finally admitted.
your stance softened at his answer and you sighed, "you know, what i said the first time i saw you bawling your eyes out like a baby still stands. you don't have to keep everything inside of you until you eventually explode.", you said, as you plugged the hair dryer in the outlet. you then turned it on and turned towards jaemin to dry his hair. thankfully the cord was long enough.
jaemin put his arms around your waist in a loose hug, relaxing as you ran your hand through his hair, feeling the hot air of the hair dryer blowing on his skin. he thought about what you said and you weren't wrong in any way. jaemin knew he was used to bottling everything up until he could see jeno or renjun to talk it out but since they were all in uni there wasn't much time for them to see one another, even when jeno came over, he had to leave quite early due to his busy schedule and personal matter which was too early for jaemin to open up.
it took you ten minutes to dry your roommate's hair just enough for them to dry completely on their own before he went to bed. jaemin was disappointed when he didn't hear the loud blowing of the hair dryer anymore. he wanted to stay like this just a little more.
"come on or jeno is totally going to leave with the dinner we made.", you said, holding your hand out to jaemin to grab after putting the hair dryer back in its place.
you two came back to the living room where jeno already placed everything on the table, "it has been 55 days since my friends left me alone in their kitchen where i had to fight to finish this meal. ", jeno started talking as if there were people at the table with him as a joke.
you chuckled, "did you go crazy?"
"i might've.", jeno replied, widening his eyes.
"come on, let's eat, i'm starving."
you all started eating together and updating each other on your daily lives, well mainly you and jeno, jaemin didn't really talk much. you were excited about the updates on his roommate and crazy neighbor. it was all the drama you needed. filled with unexpected twists and cliché tropes.
you accompanied jeno to the door when it was time for him to leave while jaemin was doing the dishes, "is jaemin okay?", jeno mouthed to you so your roommate wouldn't hear.
"he's alright, i think."
"call me if you need me."
you nodded as you showed him an okay sign with your hand.
"i will never cook here again.", jeno said as he stepped outside of your apartment.
"see you next time, jeno!", you said, fully knowing that he will be back, in your kitchen with an apron on in no time.
after sending jeno away, you went to take a shower and brush your teeth before laying on your comfy bed, cuddling into your covers. you were scrolling through your instagram feed when there was a knock on your door. you knew that it could only be your roommate, especially at this hour. you hummed in response, signaling to him that he could enter.
"are you sleeping?", jaemin's head popped in your doorway. you thought he looked cute in his pajama set.
"obviously not.", you answered, sitting up and patting the place next to you on your bed. jaemin slowly entered your room fully, closing the door behind him, "what's going on in that head of yours?", you asked, poking his head gently.
jaemin gently grabbed your hand to stop you, bringing it down between the two of you without letting go. sometimes, your roommate did things that made you wonder if his feelings towards you were completely platonic, but every time those thoughts came to your mind, you quickly pushed them away, excusing them as his flirty habits, ignoring the little acceleration your heart experienced.
"am i that unlovable?", jaemin asked even though he whispered it under his breath.
"what?"
"there's this girl. we dated for like two years in high school but she was really jealous. she didn't want us to go public because her parents were pretty strict and didn't want her to date in high school. but the thing was that she was really insecure and would think that i was cheating on her with other girls that confessed their feelings to me. the relationship was so rocky with many ups and downs, mainly downs. she ended up breaking up with me because she couldn't handle the secrecy of our relationship anymore. my first love. amazing, right?", you could hear the sarcasm is his tone, "i thought my first relationship was going to be something special and romantic that'd stay with me forever."
"first times being special is a concept created by society to pressure us into waiting for 'the right one'. thinking that the first time is what will decide what the rest of your life will look like. my whole love life is filled with non special first times. my first kiss? during a spin the bottle. my first time? i was drunk out of my mind and just sleep with some guy at a party. first love? it was all a game for him to begin with. but relationships are overrated anyway. they just lead to heartbreaks."
"how can you say that? love is such a beautiful thing."
"love is a beautiful thing. relationships...", your hands playing with his fingers mindlessly as you found yourself lost in your own world for a moment, "when you find the love you deserve, even if it wasn't the one you were looking for, hold onto it. look for love, not relationships."
"i hope we'll find the love we both want and deserve, bunny.", jaemin said, squeezing your hand as you smiled up at him.
"you think chaeryeong and shotaro will finally get with each other tonight?", ryujin asked jimin and you as you waited for her to finish getting ready to go out.
"they've been going out on so many dates but haven't even held hands yet.", jimin said.
"oh really? it's kinda cute though.", you said.
"you're such a softie, y/n.", ryujin teased.
"how is it going with sungchan?", jimin teased further.
"what do you mean?", you knew exactly what she meant but chose to act oblivious.
"you two would look so good together.", ryujin commented.
"for real, i wanna puke every time i see the two of you giggling with each other.", jimin said.
"i don't think he likes me like that.", you replied, trying to shut down their fantasies.
"what about you?", jimin suddenly asked.
"i...", you hesitated and even though it was for a few seconds your friends jumped on the occasion to tease you again.
"ooooh, you're totally into him!", ryujin almost screamed and your cheeks started to burn.
"she's blushing!", jimin pointed out.
"oh my god! you guys are insufferable.", you whined hiding yourself behind one of ryujin's pillows.
your phone vibrated as it received a message.
i'm here :D
"sungchan's here.", you announced to your two friends.
"of course, he texted you.", jimin teased.
"it's just a text.", you rolled your eyes.
"he could have texted the groupchat.", jimin retorted.
"...shut up.", you said, running out of argument.
the three of you grabbed everything you needed before heading out. you met up with sungchan who was waiting for you in his car in front of the building. his eyes looked up from his phone and he smiled as he saw the three of you walking towards him. he unlocked the doors for you and you got into the passenger seat as ryujin and jimin got in the back.
"hey.", you greeted.
"hey.", he greeted back with a smile, "are you my gps today?"
"i guess.", you chuckled, "i'm bad at giving direction though. i just like sitting in the front."
sungchan chuckled at your answer, "you can't be worse than shotaro, he just gives up half way and starts giving me direction in japanese. i don't speak japanese."
you put your hand in front of your mouth, hiding your laughter. sungchan started driving, following your precise indications. you arrived at the party in no time. sungchan and you high fived each other for your teamwork when you got out of the car, heading towards the frat house.
ryujin and jimin almost ran to the kitchen to get some drinks as sungchan and you followed behind them, only getting yourselves some water or juice because you didn't drink and he was on driving duty.
jaemin really needed something to get himself out of his thoughts. he's had a lot of things going through his head lately and most of those things were you. for the past few months of being your roommate, jaemin's perception of you had changed quite a bit. at first, he thought you were totally his type. if you two weren't roommates, he would've made a move on you the minute he saw you but after some talking with his friends and having renjun reminding him of the fact that he would probably have to find another roommate and chenle reminding him how hard it was, he quickly gave up on the idea. then, he thought that you were cute and that you two could be good roommates, going grocery shopping and cooking together, keeping your relationship pretty simple, but after spending more time with you, talking with you, seeing you interacting with his friends, picked at his interest in you. that interest made you linger in his thought at random moments and made his heart beat faster every time you got near him.
your roommate's eyes landed on you and sungchan when he was looking for his friends. he didn't know you were going to be there and seeing you laughing with another guy and being touchy in a playful way made him feel something he didn't enjoy.
you, on the other hand, didn't notice jaemin staring at the two of you at all. you were concentrating on your conversation with sungchan and didn't really pay attention to your surroundings. you two were talking casually when sungchan suddenly stopped mid sentence as something caught his eyes in the distance and he started hitting your arm in excitement.
"ow, what happened? what did you see?", you asked, turning towards the direction he was looking into.
"shotaro and chaeryeong are so making out near that plant.", sungchan whispered into your ear then nodded towards the place he just mentioned.
you jumped up and down in excitement, hitting his arm like he did yours as you finally saw them, "is that really chaeryeong?"
"of course, who else?", he frowned funnily at you.
"i hope so, or imma beat his ass."
"i'll join in."
"come on. let's find ryujin and jimin to tell them.", you grabbed onto his wrist, dragging him into the search for your two friends. sungchan smoothly slid his hand into yours. it surprised you but you didn't mind it though, it felt nice.
"yah! ryujin-ah! jimin-ah!", you shouted once you spotted them. they were getting refills in the kitchen.
"ooooh y/n! i missed you!", ryujin said, throwing her arms around you in a hug, obviously drunk. you let go of sungchan's hand to hold onto your friend and not fall backwards.
"you're cuter when you're drunk you know that?", you said to her playfully.
"what did you-", jimin started before being interrupted by someone's scream.
"Y/N!!!", a voice you recognized immediately shouted, gaining your attention.
"jeno?", you looked at a highly under the influence jeno, standing in front of you.
"come with me quick.", his tone sounded like he was in a hurry.
"why? what's happening?", you asked, a little worried.
"jaemin's drunk, he needs to go home but i drank too much to drive him and some girls are trying to throw themselves at him."
your eyes were wide in shock. you remembered jaemin telling you about never getting too drunk at parties. you wondered what happened. you turned towards sungchan for a second and said, "tell them the news.", and then waved goodbye to your friends, "i'll see you later."
you followed jeno through the crowd, pushing through people to finally get to your roommate who was sitting on a couch, surrounded by a girl on each side. he had his head down and arms crossed around himself as if he didn't want anyone to touch him.
"get him home safely. you can deal with the girls, right? they kinda scare me.", jeno told you before fleeing the scene.
the girls seemed to notice your presence and turned towards you, glaring at you as if you'd ruined the chance of their life, "who are you?", one of them spat out.
you rolled your eyes and ignored her, "jaemin, let's go.", you said out loud with a gentle tone.
jaemin raised his head immediately when he heard your voice, "y/nnn!", he exclaimed, standing up with his arms open towards you.
you saw him lose balance and hurried to his side, grabbing one of his arms and putting it around you while wrapping your other arm around his waist.
you two got out of the frat house and walked to where jaemin told you he remembered parking his car, "do you have your keys with you?", you asked as you two finally managed to spot his car which was at the opposite of where jaemin told you it was. your roommate clumsily looked in his pocket and struggled to pull out his set of keys.
you helped him into the passenger seat, putting his seat belt on for him.
"you can sleep if you want.", you told jaemin as you started driving away.
the car fell into a comfortable silence as you concentrated on the road ahead of you and jaemin was concentrating on you. he watched your side profile in silence, from your eyes, reflecting the lights of the streets, to your pretty nose that made him want to boop it, to your full cheeks, he had to refrain himself from squishing them, then finally to your lips, he was dying to know how they would feel on his.
"you're staring.", you pointed out, breaking the peaceful silence.
"you're pretty.", jaemin complimented.
you gulped, feeling your hands sweating a little as you tried hard to not look in his direction. you never knew how to react when he complimented you.
jaemin clung onto you from the moment you helped him out of his car to the moment you put him in bed, "can't you stay?", jaemin pouted, batting his eyelashes at you as his arms were still around your neck.
"no, jaemin, you need to sleep.", you said.
jaemin let go of you and pouted even more, "alright. i'm all about consent.", he said, cuddling into his covers.
you smiled at his behavior, "goodnight, jaemin.", you said, before leaving.
the holidays period had arrived and you didn't go home this time, deciding on saving the money you would've used for the trip. instead, for christmas, you met with your friends at ryujin and jimin's place for a secret santa. there was you, ryujin, jimin, chaeryeong, sungchan and shotaro. you got sungchan and chaeryeong got you. chaeryeong gave you a cute bob she customized herself with a design she made that reminded her of you, it was so pretty. you got sungchan a pair of scissors for left handed people as an inside joke you two had and his real present was a limited edition merch of a game he couldn't stop talking about. it was cute when his eyes started sparkling.
after that you stayed a few more days at your friends' apartment, squatting their couch.
"are you doing something for the new year?", was the first thing your roommate told you as you picked up his call.
"nothing really. why?"
"i'm doing something at the apartment with some of the guys. wanna join?"
"yeah why- wait. you're home right now?"
"yeah."
"what? why didn't you text me?"
"because i thought you were with your family?"
"i'm squatting ryujin and jimin's place since like christmas."
after your call with jaemin, you hurriedly packed your stuff that lingered around your friends' apartment and quickly left, shouting them a goodbye and freeing their couch from your presence.
once you got home, you were welcomed by jaemin's smile and outstretched arms. you accepted the hug, welcoming your roommate home, "why weren't you home?"
"one night, i heard something falling in the kitchen and you were already gone for like two days so i got scared and packed my bags as soon as the sun got up."
jaemin chuckled at your story, patting your head in comfort.
"so, who's gonna be there for the new year?", you asked.
"apart from you and me. renjun, jeno, chenle, and jisung. donghyuck have something already. and mark is spending it with his girlfriend. hyuck got sulky when he realized he was one of the only two absent."
"can i invite my friends too?"
"sure, just let me know how many will be there."
you quickly texted your friends' groupchat asking about everyone's plan for the new year. chaeryeong and shotaro were going to be with their respective family but ryujin, jimin and sungchan were in. you told jaemin that three of your friends were coming over and from there you two talked about the preparations. you made a list for the food, a list for the decorations, even a list of what to hide so they wouldn't be broken.
the two of you went shopping together buying all the things you needed for the party while having lots of fun. you kept playing around with things you found funny in different aisle as jaemin watched and laughed as if you were the funniest comedian on earth. he was down bad.
"should we set a dress code for the party or not?", you asked, turning to your roommate in the middle of the confettis section of the store.
"well, if that means i can see you in that black dress again...", he jokingly said in a flirty way as he looked at you in the eyes. jaemin had that intense gaze in his eyes sometimes that made your body shiver.
you rolled your eyes, keeping your composure, "i was thinking about a pajamas competition or something like that."
"you'd look good either way.", jaemin shrugged as he kept pushing the cart nonchalantly. thankfully, he didn't notice your cheeks turning pink.
the hardest part of this new year party was actually setting everything up the day of it. jaemin didn't stop messing with you, from poking your side when your were busy putting decorations up, to back hugging you when you were cutting vegetables and not helping with the cooking at all. the food you prepared was pretty simple, fried chicken, pasta, stir fried noodles with vegetables and meat and fried rice.
"i should've accepted donghyuck's roommate proposition of helping us with cooking.", jaemin said, his chin on your shoulder as he watched you chop vegetables.
"you turned down a chef-in-training's help?", you asked, kind of dumbfounded. you could've ate the best version of every dish you were making.
"i wanted to cook just with you.", jaemin pouted.
"oh, 'cause you are so cooking right now.", you said, looking down at his arms linked around your waist.
"i can help you cut vegetables."
"how ar-", you interrupted yourself when jaemin placed his hands on yours and started moving them as if he was playing with a doll, "well, i'm going to rest then.", you leaned back on your roommate, your head resting on his shoulder. you learned to go along with his flirting, if it was something you couldn't escape than you decided to embrace it. jaemin smirked, feeling your body pressed against his as he glanced as your face.
the doorbell ringing surprised the two of you as it was still pretty early. jaemin went to check who it was while you continued cooking.
"wooah. you decorated the place?", you recognized the voice of your second mom immediately.
"no, it looks like that all year long.", you sarcastically answered.
the guest walked into the living room and saw you cooking in the open kitchen.
"what are you guys doing here so early?", you asked, seeing the three familiar faces of your friends.
"we thought since you invited us, we'd at least help you with something.", jimin said, settling her bag on your couch.
"you came at the right time. we need hands in the kitchen. this guy only took out the ingredients so far.", you pointed your knife accusingly at jaemin.
"let's get this started for real.", sungchan said.
the five of you started cooking together, it was a little hard since the kitchen was small for the number of people in it. ryujin and jimin were on pasta duty, sungchan and you were on stir fried noodles duty and jaemin was on fried rice duty. the first people to finish their dish would prepare the friend chicken. since yours and sungchan's dish was longer to prepare, the other three moved to the living room table for the fried chicken.
seeing you and sungchan cooking together and joking around with each other in the kitchen kind of irritated jaemin, making him make some mistakes with coating the chicken. jimin and ryujin noticed, giving each other a knowing look. as sungchan and you finished stir frying the noodles, putting it in a dish, the doorbell rang. the fried chicken team having finished as well, jaemin went back to the kitchen with the uncooked fried chicken while ryujin cleaned the table and jimin went to open the door to whoever just arrived.
"woah, that was quick.", you said, noticing your roommate. he kind of ignored you, and just put the plate on the counter next to the electric stove before walking back to the living room and retrieved the other dirty plates. you frowned a little at his behavior. he would usually retort something funny or brag about his skills.
"do you think we put enough seasoning?", sungchan's voice brought your attention back to him.
"mmmh, i think it's alright. i'm the best for seasoning things with my gut feeling.", you said, with a thumb up.
"oh really?", he exclaimed in a playful tone, "we'll see then, if it's bad you owe me coffee."
"deal.", you two shook hands to seal the deal, "i'm going to change, my clothes smell like stir fried everything."
you quickly got back to your room to change into your new year look. jaemin and you settled on no dress code because jaemin said, "i'm sure jeno will forget and not dress accordingly, chenle will be over the top and jisung is too broke. renjun is the only that's gonna on theme."
you slipped into that one black dress jaemin couldn't stop mentioning, added more to your normal makeup to make it more festive and applied some perfume. you checked yourself one last time in your mirror before heading back out to the living room.
by the time you finished getting ready, everyone had arrived and were talking around the table. all the dishes were laid out on the table, only the fried chicken was missing. you waved hello at all your guests before heading towards the kitchen.
jaemin was there with an apron on, frying the last pieces of chicken. he sensed your presence as you stood next to him but didn't acknowledge it whatsoever. his expression was more serious than usual, "what's wrong?", you asked, breaking the heavy silence.
"nothing, i'm just concentrating on the food.", jaemin answered.
you knew he didn't tell you everything but you resorted to just resting your chin on his shoulder, not wanting to leave him alone while he cooked for everyone. jaemin didn't show it but his heart was beating like crazy and a smile started re appearing on his face.
"you smell good.", jaemin complimented.
"you smell like fried chicken.", you replied, jokingly.
jaemin gave you a side look before flicking your forehead. you whined, your hand rubbing the place where he flicked you, "you can bring this plate out first, this is almost done."
you obeyed, taking the plate of fried chicken while sticking your tongue out at him like a five year old. you came back to the living room where everyone was playing a game where they had to guess the name they had on their forehead. you put the plate down on the table and sat on the ground next to sungchan, who gave you the pillow he had to put on your lap since you were wearing a dress.
"it's time to eat. come on, last round everyone, first to guess, first to win.", jimin said out lout.
you laughed as each of them failed to guess who was on their paper, even sungchan, "how could you not get the lady on the starbucks cup?", you asked, removing the paper scotched on his forehead for him.
"you mean how could i have guessed that. there's no way anyone would've guessed it.", sungchan replied.
"i would've.", you retorted.
"you wouldn't have."
"totally would."
"you're in denial."
"i-"
your banter was interrupted by jaemin almost throwing the second plate of fried chicken down on the table, "let's eat before it gets cold.", he said, sitting down on the other side on you. you all started enjoying the meal you've prepared with care, you've never had that many variety of dish at the same time before.
"shit, the stir fried noodles are good.", sungchan muttered next to you.
"told you i could measure my spices.", you said, hitting his arm slightly with yours.
"then i will bring you your coffee personally the first day back at uni, spice master.", sungchan jokingly said, bowing a little while swirling his hand.
"i'll look forward to it, dear.", you replied with the same tone, waving your hand as well. jaemin cleared his throat next to you, earning your attention but when you turned towards him he was just enjoying his food normally.
after you all finished eating, the ones who didn't help cooking took care of the dishes while the rest of you enjoyed the drinks jeno and renjun brought. you were playing a game of 'put a finger down if', and the loser would have to one shot a bowl of makgeolli.
"i have slept with more than ten people.", jimin said, obviously having a target in mind.
"that was too unfair.", jaemin said, shaking his head while folding one of his fingers.
you shocked everyone by folding one of yours as well.
"what? y/n?!", ryujin practically screamed in shock.
"yah! you hid that from us?", jimin joined in.
"what? what? what? what is happening?", chenle shouted from behind the kitchen counter.
"y/n is a player!", sungchan answered chenle, making you turn towards him and push him playfully.
"really?!", jeno screamed.
"are you serious?", ryujin asked, her eyes having not return to their normal size yet.
"yah! why do you seem so shocked?!"
"they grow up so fast.", jimin jokingly sniffed and patted her under eyes to get rid of her imaginary tears.
"i didn't know you had game.", sungchan said next to you, making you push him again, harder this time as he fell on his side while laughing.
"you sure have some secrets, bunny.", jaemin whispered to you in the midst of the chaos. you rolled your eyes and pushed him as well.
the game ended with your loss when the others returned from the kitchen.
"want me to get you something else to one shot?", jaemin asked you as they all knew that you didn't really drink alcohol.
"it's alright. it's been a while anyway, i'm gonna be fine.", you replied.
you brought the bowl to your lips and started drinking slowly as your friends cheered for you. with a last gulp, you finished the alcoholic beverage. it had been so long that you had almost forgot how it tasted like.
"sorry guys, unexpected return of roommate. i have to go.", renjun said, as he stood up.
"you can drive?", jeno asked.
"yeah, i haven't started drinking yet.", renjun replied.
"alright, see you then.", you all waved goodbye to renjun as he hurriedly left.
you were a few hours away from the new year and your tiredness started to hit you hard. you were fighting to keep your eyes open and the makgeolli you drank didn't really help. your alcohol tolerance really dropped. you weren't drunk or anything, it was just enough to make you feel how tired you were even more. you were the kind of person to sleep early and wake up early so you were really fighting yourself.
"don't fall asleep, you'll miss the new year.", sungchan nudged you slightly as your head was resting on his shoulder.
"i'll just rest my eyes for a second.", you replied, your voice so small that he almost missed it. sungchan patted your hand in comfort and just ended up leaving it there while he talked with chenle and ryujin.
everyone was engrossed in their own conversation to notice you, except jaemin who seemed to be even more fired up than before.
"if you get any tenser you'll just transform into a rock.", jeno told his friend.
"i'm fine.", jaemin replied a little dismissively.
"dude, you've had heart eyes for her for a while now. you're also her roommate, you see her more and you've been acting like a couple every time i was over, which made me want to hang myself sometimes, not gonna lie so why you backing down now?"
"you're one to talk.", jaemin started, alluding to jeno's personal life, "and i'm not backing down, i just-", he stopped as he glanced at your sleepy figure so close to sungchan. he can't help himself but wonder if the signs he picked up on from you were just in his head.
a loud explosion coming from outside startled you and stopped every on going conversation. you sat straight up and looked outside like everyone.
"oooh, the fireworks are starting.", jimin said.
you all rushed to the windows to observe it most of your friends went to the bigger windows as you opted for the smaller one. you felt the fresh air hitting your face as you opened it.
"it's pretty.", you said, watching the fireworks explode in multiple colors.
"it is.", sungchan replied as his eyes lingered on you for a moment before turning his attention towards the fireworks, "are you feeling better?"
"mmmmh yeah. the fireworks and bright lighting helped.", you joked, making him laugh a little.
there was even more noise when people started screaming and counting.
"5...4...3...2...1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!", lots of people shouted along with you and your friends. people on the streets were celebrating as well as your neighbors and people from other apartment buildings around you and even people driving were honking like crazy.
you turned towards sungchan to see that he was already looking at you, "what?", you asked as he seemed to have something on his mind.
sungchan smiled at you before moving his hand close to your face and pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. his hand didn't move afterwards, his eyes looking for any sign of discomfort on your face. he then brought his face down to yours, still looking at you. you knew what he wanted to do and you didn't back out nor stopped him. you didn't want to. your gaze dropped down to his lips and leaned slightly forwards as if to tell him that it was okay. sungchan closed the gap between the two of you, his lips softly touched yours as he became your first kiss of the year.
no one really noticed the two of you as they were all too busy screaming and celebrating. all, except one person who spilled his drink on himself when he screamed 'happy new year' too excitedly.
jaemin.
thankfully, your first day in uni of the year wasn't right after the new year celebration because you were exhausted from all the cooking, the cleaning and the celebration. your friends all left quite early in the morning, not sleeping at all and deciding to call an uber for safety since they shouldn't drive in their state. you told jimin to give you her car keys, so you could drive her car to uni to avoid her the inconvenience of coming back here.
jaemin and you spent the next day, or rather afternoon, because you two slept until noon, cleaning the apartment. you didn't interact much since you still had the kiss with sungchan on your mind but even with that aside, you felt like jaemin was avoiding you. little did you know, your roommate also had yours and sungchan's kiss on his mind. after seeing the two of you, his mood switched instantly. he didn't know why his little crush on you affected him that much. or is it because it wasn't only a small crush?
you let it slide the first day, blaming it on the exhaustion caused by the new year but when the next days, jaemin was still acting the same, you started to worry. you tried asking him simple things to start at least a small conversation with him but he dodged every question and even straight up ignored you sometimes. the lack of attention from him did feel weird.
"okay, i can't do this anymore. what's wrong with you?", you finally snapped when you two passed each other in the hallway as you were heading back to your room and he was heading to the bathroom.
"what's wrong with ME? what's wrong with YOU?!", jaemin snapped back, turning around to face you.
"me?", you repeated, confused.
"one minute, you're warm, the other one, you're cold. one minute, you treat me like a friend, the other one, you act like i'm the worse fuckboy to ever exist. one minute...we're hugging and being domestic as fuck, and the other...you're...kissing another guy. this is driving me crazy, y/n. you're driving crazy. i don't know if you like me or not, or just what you think of me."
"i-", you were speechless. your mind was blank, still trying to register the informations.
"i'll leave you with your thoughts.", jaemin said, before turning around again, walking into the bathroom.
you were indeed drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the night, having trouble sleeping even. you couldn't wrap your head around what was actually happening. were you really stuck between two completely different guys? even when you managed to finally shut your brain off, your subconscious took over and you dreamed of the both of them.
when you woke up the next morning, you cursed the timing for having to go back to uni right after what happened. jaemin already left which made you kind of relieved, you wouldn't have known how to act around him. you drove jimin's car to uni, giving your friend her keys back at lunch.
you were really out of it the whole day. at first, ryujin thought that it was just because you haven't had any caffeine yet but when sungchan showed up with the cup of coffee he owed you from the bet, you didn't seem to get any better. you were thankful to sungchan who was extra sweet with you, seeing that you weren't feeling well.
"hey, are you free after class this afternoon?", sungchan asked you as you were sitting at lunch with everyone else.
"i'm doing something with the girls later.", you said, quickly followed by, "don't worry, we'll talk another day."
"alright.", sungchan sent you a relaxed smile as he patted your head.
you knew he wanted to talk about the kiss and the status of your relationship now that that happened but you weren't even sure what to tell him if you two talked right now.
you needed an emergency girls' night and it came in a form of snacks packaging all over your friends' living room's floor while ryujin and jimin were listening to you talk.
"he said what because he saw what?", jimin asked after you told them everything from your kiss with sungchan to jaemin snapping at you.
"so i didn't imagined that kiss.", ryujin said, tapping her chin with her index.
"you saw it and you didn't tell me?!", jimin exclaimed, offended.
"i barely saw it and i was drunk! i thought shipping them so hard got to my brain and i was hallucinating.", ryujin retorted, making you laugh.
"tsk.", jimin shook her head at her roommate disapprovingly before turning towards you, "so what happened next?"
"well, nothing. i have to talk to sungchan about the kiss and jaemin...well...i don't know..."
"this is like a drama. who do you like best?", ryujin asked.
"i-i don't know...sungchan?"
"that sounded more like a question than an affirmation.", jimin noted.
you sighed. your thoughts were in shambles, "sungchan is literally perfect. he's a kind, sweet, the sweetest ever, he never get grumpy somehow, and he's the kind of person that brightens your day the moment you see them. he really is the perfect friend. he's considerate, funny, i feel comfortable around him. it should be him, right?"
"what about jaemin?", ryujin asked.
"he's a fuckboy."
"what else?", jimin pushed.
"what do you mean?"
"he's not just a fuckboy and you know that. describe him like you did sungchan.", jimin clarified.
"jaemin is...my roommate. he can be insufferable, calling me bunch of nicknames like bunny and princess, and acting overall like the fuckiest fuckboy. he is extremely clingy and he drinks that awful iced americano with four extra shots of expresso that makes me wonder how he's still alive. but there's also that sweet side to him and little things he does that he thinks others won't notice. like how he can be super caring. did i tell you how when after he found me asleep on our doorstep that morning after a party, he made sure to be home every night just in case it happened again. i had to tell him that i was going to okay and that it won't happen again when he came back home still smelling like after sex sweat, alcohol and sephora. ke kinda grew on me, somehow. he's pretty funny and watching shows with him made me realize that he was kind of a romantic...but i can't get over the fuckboy status. i've been with too many fuckboys to fall for that again."
"you never know. maybe he's different.", jimin said.
"that's what i told myself every time and i'm sick of history repeating itself."
"do you lean towards one in particular?", ryujin asked.
"i know i should choose sungchan. he's good for me. he's like a sunny day after a storm...but jaemin feels like staying home with a blanket around me when it's raining outside."
"how did you feel when sungchan and you kiss?"
"good, i mean he's not a bad kisser. it felt comfortable and nice."
"you know you sound like you've already made a choice, right?", jimin asked you, "you described sungchan as a 'perfect friend' and then proceeded to rant about jaemin with the only thing holding you back, is that he's a fuckboy."
"my sungy/n heart is broken but i have to admit that you don't seem to have that much romantic feelings towards sungchan or at least, you feel more things for jaemin. you realize that you kept using the word 'should' for sungchan, right? it's like your head vs your heart.", ryujin added.
you sighed. from the bottom of your heart, you wished you could tell them they were wrong but you knew, deep down, that you didn't feel anything for sungchan, or like ryujin put it, you felt more for jaemin. everything would have been much easier if you were mentally stable enough to choose someone like sungchan. your situation with jaemin was just too complicated. you always thought that his gestures towards were only platonic and maybe they were at first but it seemed to have took a turn you didn't expect.
you went home pretty late that night, after talking with your friends for hours. you saw the messages jaemin sent you a few hours earlier. you had forgot to tell him that you were going to ryujin and jimin's place since you two were awkward now.
you entered your apartment, removing your shoes and sliding into your home slippers, walking into the living room. you noticed a mass of the couch, approaching it you saw jaemin lying there with his arms crossed and eyes closed.
he was waiting for you.
even though you two were not on speaking term and he seemed fed up the last time you spoke to him, he still waited. he was still worried. and there goes that little knife that dug itself deeper into your heart.
you went to jaemin's room to retrieve his blanket, thinking he must have been freezing waiting for you and falling asleep on the couch without something warm around him. you left him a note on the table next to the couch saying that you were home and that you were okay before going into your room.
the next day, your only class of the afternoon got canceled so sungchan and you decided to grab a coffee at the nearest coffee shop to talk about the two of you.
"so...", you started as the two of you sat down at a table in the cozy coffee shop with your drinks.
"so...", sungchan repeated.
there was a little awkward silence be fore you decided to speak again, "okay so i'm going to go straight to the point. i don't think-"
"-you have romantic feelings for me?", he interrupted with what you were going to say which startled you a little. he didn't seem sad or angry, he was just like his usual self.
"how did you-? did the girls tell you?"
sungchan laughed at your confusion, "no but it was something i kind of expected. i was hesitant at first for the new year's kiss but with a few shots and the loud fireworks, my brain said why not. i don't regret it.", he shrugged.
"i'm sorry.", you apologized.
"there's nothing to apologize for.", he nudged you, "it's not like i was in love with you or anything. it's alright. i like the idea of us maybe dating but i love being friends with you so actually, it's a win-win."
"you really are the best.", you smiled at him.
"then why aren't you dating me?!", he said but you knew that he was fully joking as he started laughing afterwards.
you got home that day, right after grabbing an early dinner with sungchan and the girls after their classes finished. when you entered the living room, jaemin was eating his dinner while watching tv on the couch, his wet hair adorning a jet black color.
he dyed his hair and holy mother of sanity did he look good.
you gulped down your thoughts and headed towards your room. you took a well deserved hot shower to clear your mind.
the following week was so awkward between the two of you. you woke up earlier every morning to leave the apartment before him and when you saw each other at home, you just walked past one another. you had to deal with your thoughts and feelings and jaemin left you the space you needed to do so even though it was killing him to not talk with you. you also felt bad every time you saw him watch a show on the couch alone, all you wanted to do was plop down next to him and enjoy some popcorn while commenting on whatever you were watching.
"jaemin?", you called, walking into the living room and spotting jaemin's now black hair on the couch.
"mmmh?", he hummed, acknowledging your call.
"can we talk?"
"sure.", he paused his show and sat back straight on the couch, moving from the middle to one end of it so you could sit as well.
"okay, so, let me get this out of the way first.", you said, sitting down on the couch and facing jaemin.
"sungchan and i are just friends. we talked about it and decided to remain friends since i didn't have any romantic feelings for him.", you said, slowing your usual speed of speech and being as clear and simple as you could be so your roommate wouldn't misunderstand, "now, what did you mean by telling me what you told me the other day?"
jaemin's eyes had seemed to have gain a few sparkles since you cleared things about sungchan. he remained silent for a moment, his brain fusing to get the adequate words out, "i like you, a lot."
you realized that you didn't plan anything passed this. you didn't know what to say.
"i- give me a second, alright?", you said, turning sideways and inhaling all the air you could before exhaling it all along your all your messy thoughts, wiping your brain clean, "okay, so...i can't say that i feel completely indifferent towards you...but...", jaemin's head perked up at your words, "you're a fuckboy."
"i-"
"-can change? stop? treat me good? i've heard it all. and they never changed.", you saw jaemin opening his mouth again probably to defend himself, but you quickly continued, knowing what he was going to say, "i know it doesn't mean that you won't, so...i was thinking...if you're up for it...to have like a sort of trial?"
"like netflix?"
"kinda? let's not date, or flirt, or fuck anyone for like a month or two and see if we still have feelings and by we, i mean, mainly you.", you threw in a little joke at the end to lighten the mood.
"one month or two, even a whole year if i have to."
"well, we'll see if your feelings make it. i'm quite hard to love."
"i'll give it my best.", he said with a little smile, blinking his doe eyes at you.
"don't over do it.", you smiled before pushing his face backwards.
jaemin put his arms around you and brought you in a much wanted hug. he's been dying to do that since the start of your conversation, "is that okay?"
"i'll tell you if something is not okay.", you said, relaxing in his arms. you missed that feeling.
"can i come in?", jaemin asked after knocking on your door.
"sure.", you shouted while finishing your makeup.
"are you ready to go?", he asked, stepping in. you two were going to a frat party, even though you weren't really in the mood, you still wanted to spend some time with your friends.
"yeah, just let me grab my jacket and...", you turned around to be faced with jaemin's body. you waited for him to move but he didn't, you looked up at him and said, "i thought we were leaving."
"i just want to look at you a little longer.", he said, putting his hands on your side, right on the cutouts of your white dress.
"you can do that at the party.", you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"but i'd rather do it here.", jaemin brought one of his hands up to your face, his index under your chin, lifting it up to face his own.
your eyes were fixated on his lips as you gulped. you pulled yourself out of the thoughts of how they would feel against your own and looked up at his eyes to see him still looking down, "don't ruin my lipstick.", you whispered since you two were pretty close.
"hearing you say it, makes me want to do it even more."
"oh yeah?", you slowly got on your tiptoes, getting your lips even closer to his. if you moved, you would have been able to transfer some of your lipstick on his lips. jaemin's breath got caught in his throat and he didn't dare to move a millimeter. his whole body froze. you smirked at his reaction and stepped back, walking around him to grab the jacket on your chair, "let's go."
jaemin let out a shaky sigh before following after you.
during the party, jaemin and you got separated at some point as he went to find his friends and you yours. since you didn't really felt like partying too much, so you just had some fun with your friends, dancing and laughing.
"how is it going with jaemin?", jimin asked you as you sat on a couch between her and sungchan. there was also ryujin, chaeryeong, and shotaro.
"there's something going on between you and jaemin?", shotaro asked.
"yes and no...i'm waiting to see if he's serious about this or not."
"mmmh so that's why he's been sending me death stares from that corner over there since we sat on this couch.", sungchan said, almost sounding as if he was joking but when you quickly glanced at the corner he mentioned you noticed jaemin staring in your direction among a group of guys who were just discussing with one another which made you start laughing a little.
from jaemin's point of view, you were laughing at something sungchan had said which made him kind of jealous if he was totally honest. he trusted you and knew that if you told him that there was nothing going on between sungchan and you then there was nothing but he couldn't help but feel a little stab in his heart.
after some more talking with your friends, you decided it was time for you to head home. you hugged your friends goodbye before heading outside. you swiped on your phone, ready to order a taxi to go home when someone called you, "y/n! bunny!"
you turned around instantly, recognizing the nickname, "almost didn't know it was you when you called me by my name.", you teased with a smile.
jaemin smiled back at you before asking, "are you leaving right now?"
"yeah, don't worry about me, i'll see you at home.", you said, waving him back inside.
"it's alright, we can go home together."
"i'm alright, jaemin. really."
"but i want to go home with you.", he pouted.
how could you say no to that face.
"did you drink?", you asked him.
"one cup.", he said, holding his index up.
"give me your keys.", you replied, stretching your hand out.
jaemin easily complied, sliding his keys into your hand. your ride home was quite fun, jaemin showed you mark's soundcloud and to be completely honest, his songs were pretty good. jaemin and you bopped your head to mark's voice while laughing at whatever weird moves your roommate was doing.
"first for the bathroom.", you said as soon as you heard jaemin close your apartment door.
"wait.", jaemin grabbed your wrist, spinning around to face him. he was extremely close, "can i ruin your lipstick now?"
you didn't say anything at first, your mind still trying to process his words. your eyes trailed down from his eyes to his lips and gosh did they look inviting. you slowly leaned in and pressed your lips gently on his. that was all jaemin needed to kiss you back. you stood in the middle of your living room, fully making out, your hands were in his hair while he had one one your waist while the other one cupped your cheek. you felt your heart beating so fast that at this point, you thought it was gonna beat out of your chest.
jaemin was the first one to pull away, breathing heavily, "if we keep going, it's gonna be really hard for me to stop myself..."
your brain worked it magic and lots of things went through your mind after he said that and in a short amount of time, making you blush and hide your face in his shirt.
you headed back to your room to take some clothes before going into the bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and your hand instinctively went to your lips, fingers tracing your lower lip as you saw how smudged your lipstick had gotten. the event flashed in your mind and you couldn't help the smile spreading on your face. jaemin was slowly bringing the wall you had built down and even though you were scared to let someone in again, being with jaemin felt great.
that night, jaemin came into your room and asked if you two could cuddle. you sleepily opened your covers for him, sliding to one side of your bed and the both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.
"hey, i actually don't feel like clubbing tonight, you guys go without me.", you said to jimin over the phone.
"alright! we'll send you lots of pictures!"
"alright! have fun!", you both hung up as you returned to your tv show.
that night you had planned to go to that club in itaewon that was famous for doing a monthly event for university student only but you didn't really feel like going out, you lowkey were just waiting for jaemin to get home so you could cuddle together while watching tv.
you heard the doorbell ring and were confused for a second. you got up to check the camera screen next to your door and saw a girl standing there. she seemed to be around your age and was holding something in her hands.
you pushed the mic button to speak to the person outside, "hello, who are you?"
"hello, i'm here to give jaemin his sweater back. he left it with me when we saw each other last week ."
you felt your heart drop in your stomach and a lump form in your throat. when you realized you've been silent for a long time, you managed to pull yourself together and open the door. you greeted the girl with a slight bow as she did the same.
"tell him i'm sorry i didn't gave it to him earlier, i just remembered a few hours ago."
you nodded, your brain had completely shut off.
"i'll...leave then.", she awkwardly said, before walking away.
you closed the door and let out a big sigh. you couldn't believe what just happened. you looked in the bag the girl had handed you and indeed it was one of jaemin's sweater, you had seen him wear it multiple time. you remembered telling him that you were going out tonight with the girls so did he call her over? while you were out? were they hooking up?
you felt like you've been cheated on even though technically you had no right to feel that way. he wasn't your boyfriend. this only meant that he wasn't serious about pursuing you to begin with. even though it was something you expected, it still hurt but right now you weren't really sad, you were more angry, fuming actually.
you dropped the bag in jaemin's room and went to yours, getting ready to forget about your stupid roommate.
"hello, jaemin? this is ryujin. can you come pick y/nup? she's gone completely out of character. she's so drunk, she is actually this close to offering a strip tease to whoever says yes. we're trying to hold her back but i can't stop her. come quick, please, i'll text you the address."
as soon as jaemin heard this, he hurried back out of his apartment. he had just gotten home after his shift when he received ryujin's call and he was very confused because ryujin said that you were drunk. jaemin had never seen you drunk and the only time he saw you drink was at your new year party. he wondered why you suddenly started drinking again, especially when you seemed so done with your younger self every time you spoke about it.
jaemin found you, jimin and ryujin on the street in front of the club. you were leaning on jimin's shoulder as ryujin checked your temperature with her hand on your forehead. jaemin could see the look of relief on their face when they saw him. your roommate gave them a ride home as your two friends were exhausted from running around the club to get you. during the whole car ride, you didn't spoke nor look into jaemin's direction. you just closed your eyes and lean the farthest you could from him. even when jaemin tried to help you out the car, you ignored him and didn't let him touch you. you had regain some clarity thanks to the little drive and could totally walk and stand on your own, even though you could go off path from time to time. jaemin stayed behind you to make sure you didn't fall.
once you've reached your apartment, jaemin asked you, "hey, is everything okay?"
it was a simple question but it somehow angered you in an inimaginable way, "is everything okay? is everything OKAY?!", you scoffed, "no, everything is not okay, no.", you looked at him with spite in your eyes, "your booty call dropped by earlier. she wanted to give you your sweater back. should've told her when you were going to be home."
"what are you talking about?", jaemin asked with furrowed eyebrows.
you didn't even hear the real confusion in his voice, only interpreting his question as a lie, a way to manipulate you, like many had done before.
"you know what i'm talking about. don't play dumb.", being drunk made you a lot harsher and filter free.
"i really don't. i can assure you i have not been hooking up with anyone. how can you think that? you're the only one i've want any contact with. you're the only one i can think about. you're all i think about. how do you want me to prove it to you? do you want me to shout it out loud in the streets or in the hallways of uni? because i would do it in a heartbeat. you're driving me insane but in a good way. in a way, that makes me want more."
"that's not what i want. i don't want you to burn for me. i don't want to be the bane of your existence.", you started, quoting the infamous show you two had been watching, "i don't want passion. i want someone to love me, even when i'm boring, even when i'm mad, even when i'm sad, even when i don't talk and stay in my corner or when i'm loud and talk to everybody at a party, even when i'm old. i'm sick of the honeymoon phase. in french, they call it 'noces de chêne', oak wedding, it represents 80 years of marriage. i want that kind of love. old, long, lasting."
after that long rant, you stumbled to your room and crashed onto your bed, passing out.
the next morning, you woke up with an astronomical headache. you forgot how hangover felt like and you sure didn't miss it. you turned over on your bed and spotted a glass of water and some medication for your headache on your bedside table. you quickly took them with a little groan, due to sitting up too quickly. you remembered the events of the previous night all too well, a little embarrassed by your behavior at the club. you'll text your friends later to apologize. after taking the pills, you got up, grabbed some clothes and took a well needed shower. you've never felt that dirty after waking up. you got back into bed right after making sure you blowdried your hair and tried to get some more sleep.
a few minutes later, someone knocked on your door. you didn't answer, knowing who it was. jaemin waited a little before opening the door to your room and entering, "i made you some hangover soup."
you still didn't answer.
jaemin approached your bed with the little table tray, "i know you're awake. i heard you taking a shower."
you sighed, peeking your head out from under the blanket. you saw jaemin standing next to your bed with the tray in his hands and you knew that he wouldn't leave before you ate that soup so you sat up, allowing him to put the tray table on your bed.
you started eating in silence, still not wanting to speak to him.
"are you still mad?", jaemin asked.
slurp.
"i take that as a yes. can i at least explain myself?"
slurp.
"then i will. please refrain from throwing soup in my face until i finish talking.", you eye sided him before continuing your slurping, "so, i saw the bag in my room. i guess you were talking about that yesterday. i did not sleep with her. she's the girl from high school i talked to you about. she just wanted to clear up some misunderstandings we had. she spilled her coffee on herself by accident and i gave her my sweater to cover it up. she sent me a message yesterday to give it back but also told me that she didn't know when she'll be able to. so i just gave her our address so she could drop it here whenever she could. i told her to leave it in front of the door if no one was home. i did not sleep with anyone since i told you i love you. well, technically, i didn't say it but the meaning was there, well...anyway..."
your eyes perked up at the word 'love', you knew it wasn't as if he told you he was in love with you but still, it was a strong feeling that you didn't know someone could feel towards you.
jaemin, as if he saw the perplexity in your eyes, said, "i love when we go grocery shopping together. i love when we cook together or watch shows together. i love when it's getting late and you knock on my door to make sure i've had dinner. i love how your eyes sparkle and almost turn into crescent moons when you hear or see something funny. i love when you hold my hand even if it's for a split second. and i especially love how i feel around you. i've been falling for you more and more each day and i've learn to love every little thing about you. i don't know who told you you were hard to love, but loving you is the easiest thing i have ever done."
your gaze softened at his speech. you dropped your spoon and grabbed his face, giving him a soft peck on the lips.
you had to admit that you were blinded by your emotions and trauma at first. having lived that same situation many times where your ex boyfriends would cheat on you and then deny it, even though you caught them in the act, on your on bed, like sure bob, that's your cousin and her weird way of greeting you. but you knew that you could trust jaemin, you two were friends before all this and you felt bad for not giving him the benefit of the doubt and snapping at him instead of remaining calm and communicating.
"i'm sorry...for yesterday and for assuming.", you apologized.
"it's alright. you can make it up to me later with lots of kisses and cuddles.", he said, kissing the top of your head, "can i be your boyfriend now?"
you smiled, "sure."
"yayyy, girlfriend!", he exclaimed. he was going to tackle you but remembered the tray and quickly got rid of it.
"eeeh, i wasn't done with that.", you said, hand reaching out for the food but jaemin was too quick.
"there's plenty more. i want to cuddle.", he said, opening his arms and almost jumping on top of you. you snuggled in his arms, breathing in his scent. you felt safe in his arms.
looking back, you definitely involved yourself more than necessary with na jaemin.
but that was probably the best thing you had ever done.
#nct dream#nct#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#na jaemin#jaemin#na jaemin scenarios#na jaemin imagines#na jaemin fluff#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#jaemin fluff#na jaemin angst#jaemin angst#sweet life au
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Protection IV
Read Protection here.
Lots of angst this chapter. More unaware pining for one another. 6.5k words.
Objectively, she was beautiful like a rose and smelled pretty like one too. It didn’t seem like a bad thing to be nicknamed after one but she looked as if he just called her the c-word.
Niall had been working for DSS for a year shorter than she had a security detail. When he arrived at his desk job, he was assured that The US Secretary of State’s daughter would never come to the office. As far as everyone knew, she had no idea where it was. Moreover, she hated everything that this office stood for so why would she ever set foot in it?
However, the second her hand touched the building door. Niall swore he knew. Everyone knew. The air got colder the room darker. If it were the 1600s, someone would have cried witch.
Niall really only knew because this twenty-something girl walked through the door, running pants, a long sleeve athletic shirt, a sporty headband wrapped around her forehead to keep the sweat from beading off her face. She wasn’t a smidge breathless as she walked to the front desk. Niall happened to be on his way out to his lunch break but again, was stopped the moment he saw her enter.
“Uh, hello,” there was a new secretary behind the main desk. This wasn’t really a drop-in service kind of business—especially for someone like the young woman who clearly just popped in during the middle of her run.
She was pleasant, anyway, to the woman. The poor thing had no idea she was talking to the daughter of the top person this bureau serviced. Niall peered around the half-wall like the scaredy cat he was, unable to look away for even a moment but too scared to pass by her for the door.
Harry had the day off—that must have been why she was here now. He probably had no idea she was here. Harry often took shift after shift keeping an eye on her, telling his relief was unnecessary. Sometimes he would work 24-hour shifts just to keep the department happy and of course no one minded missing their time spent with her.
Although 24-hour shifts hadn’t really happened since her terrible night out just over a week and a half ago.
Normally, they would have fired Harry. They had no choice but to send his supervisor out to her—while Harry was trapped here, relaying the story, and explaining the paperwork that he had written—but she was insistent that she wanted Harry to stay. In fact, Niall read the notes from the meeting and she said, "he saved me from something terrible and if you fire him and put someone new, you'll regret it."
Niall felt at the time it was a good idea to pat himself on the back. She liked Harry. That was a good thing. That was what DSS wanted. Someone that she wouldn’t fight with as much. Someone she wouldn’t run away from. Harry was his closest friend as well, and so, when it came time to find another new security member for her, who better to recommend than Harry?
Harry never seemed to mind her antics. Harry’s family, like Niall’s, was back across the Atlantic Ocean. Most of Harry’s friends lived throughout the country apart from Niall. Niall, who also liked his job, was often chained to his own desk and work so even when Harry did have a day off, it didn’t always mean he could hang out with Niall.
So why not hang out with her? She just sleeps and studies. Harry had told him when Niall inquired why he would take so many overlapping shifts. Didn’t he need sleep? Didn’t he need space from her?
“Hi,” she chirped to the poor woman who was surprised this cute, twenty-something young woman. It was like a train wreck. Niall should have alerted someone, maybe even Harry, but he couldn’t look away. Definitely couldn’t spare a glance to text Harry about it. “I was wondering if I could speak to the supervisor in charge of Mr. Secretary’s security detail?” She was all eyelashes, adorable. It had been ages since he’d seen her in person—at the time she had just graduated high school--she still seemed so girlish when Niall was fresh out of college, finding his way around the office he stood in now. Now she was this beautiful young woman.
No wonder Harry doesn’t mind seeing her all day long. She’s easy on the eyes.
At that moment, one of their agents burst through the door behind her, out of breath. Hands on his knees as he gasped for air the secretary looked at the girl who didn’t even bother with her attention toward the man behind her. “Uh...I...I’m sorry, Miss. That’s private information you’re looking for. And he doesn’t really take visitors.”
“I understand, ma’am. However, my dad is Mr. Secretary, so I feel like he’ll make an exception for me.”
Oh, this poor woman was going to have a heart attack. She grabbed her office phone immediately and quietly, but terrified, explained the situation.
Calmly, she stood by the door looking at the different plaques and pictures. Niall’s phone vibrated with a message from Harry. Do you want to go to the pub or something to watch the game? Drink some? Niall went to answer but got the feeling he was being watched. He looked up to see the girl staring back at him. His breath caught in his throat, like he was caught in a horror movie and the monster just saw him. “Hi, Niall,” she smiled brightly with a wave.
What the fuck?
The agent behind her was still gasping for breath but looking at Niall like he had betrayed the entirety of DSS. The secretary was shocked at the sight of Niall as well. “Uh...hi, darling,” he answered awkwardly. “How’s your day?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Just thought I’d go for a jog.”
“A sprint,” the agent grumbled. Niall could see why Harry thought she was funny. “Lost her by the park. Why are we here?”
“I just want to ask a question,” she said with a simple shrug. The poor, anxious woman was shaking as she brought her a glass of water (and one for the agent who clearly needed to hit the gym if he was going to chase after this girl). “Thank you,” she smiled kindly.
For years Niall heard nothing but scary stories of her and her behavior. Harry told him nothing but funny and cute stories of her well-decorated apartment and their movie marathon. There was no way the two entities were the same girl.
Niall knew her of course. He wanted to know how she knew him because Harry didn’t seem like the type to spill personal information like that. “I asked Harry if he had any friends. He mentioned just you, said you worked in the office of this horrible place. So I found you on Harry’s Linkedin profile and then compared you to a picture I found on his social media. Like I told Harry, you should change your last name to your middle name so it’s harder to find you,” she shrugged.
He opened his mouth to speak but the supervisor came flying out of the other room. “Hi, what—”
“What the fuck did you say to him?” She snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.
Oh, Niall loved her. A live show to her two personalities—the nice one that Harry raved about and grumpy one that he only ever heard about at work. Harry’s supervisor looked downright nervous. It never ceased to amaze Niall how this young woman could scare the life out of grown men.
“To who?” He shook his head in confusion. The poor secretary stared at her desk unable to look at anyone. Niall felt for her. He should have returned to his desk, but he was frozen in place watching her.
“Harry, obviously. You guys finally get a decent person in charge of my security. Someone I can actually tolerate and then you yell at him for something that wasn’t even his fault? We actually had a pretty decent thing going. I was just coming around to the idea of sending you guys actual Christmas cards instead of glitter cards,” she rolled her eyes. Each year several people (it was like magic how she knew which few to select) in the office received a card from her. It was always a different return address--never her own. Always looked like one of those a holiday business coupon cards. For some service in the area, and each year they were tricked. Left covered in glitter and with a printed card that said Happy Holidays, but the L was a middle finger emoji.
They fell for it every single year.
“Miss,” he said calmly. “If I can—”
“Are you going to fire Harry?” She interrupted angrily.
“Do you...want someone else?” He asked immediately.
Niall thought she would strangle him if she could. She closed her eyes so tightly, he worried her eyelids might snap. At once she flashed them open. “No, I don’t. But you told him something after that night. You made him all weird,” she frowned. Her voice took on this new tone. One that Niall didn't know she possessed. It was almost...awe-struck. “He barely talks to me," she sounded...upset.
“Surely that’s a good thing,” the agent muttered behind her.
She ignored him but Niall could see she was even angrier at the notion. “Do you know that 6-8% of men and women have reported having their drink spiked at least once in college? It wasn’t Harry’s fault," Niall felt a certain amount of gratitude for her, knowing that she was trying to defend one of his best friends. Even if he was still terrified of her. He could hear the anguish in her voice. It was like she was pleading a case. Hoping that the man in front of her understood how much he had hurt Harry and she didn't care for that at all.
He pressed his lips together. “Why did you come here, Miss?” He asked gently.
“If you fire him or he quits I’m going to do way worse than glitter,” she promised and turned right back out the door. “You always blame me for everything. Always! The one time it was my fault I’m suddenly the one in the right? You’re all infuriating. Enjoy the paperwork,” she grumbled turning out the door sharply. Niall believed the door didn't slam solely because it couldn't. If it could have slammed shut, he definitely believed she would have.
The agent followed after her, still struggling a bit with his breathing. But the moment she left, he swore the room got warmer, the light a little brighter. There was palpable relief in the air. “That girl is terrifying."
Niall couldn’t wait to tell Harry about it.
*
“Do you have a codename for me?” She asked. They swapped out their normal rom-com for a more dramatic-action movie. It caught her eye because it involved a security detail for a political official. She gave Harry a knowing smile and he rolled his eyes with a shrug. “Whatever y’want love.”
It was dramatized beyond belief, of course. Especially when she considered how she was probably one of the most boring people to keep watch over. Given they were literally watching a movie together. Other than her short hospital stay that is. Since then, she was keeping a low-profile. Just as she had thought, her “friends” didn’t really seem to care. But even with her beliefs confirmed, she kind of preferred these quiet moments with Harry. Especially after her talk with DSS.
While they watched, her gaze drifted over to Harry every so often. She enjoyed the way he rolled his eyes at any scene that broke his precious protocol. Harry thought it was funny how they always had secret codenames to describe the person they were keeping watch over. Especially since it was public knowledge.
It seemed she and Harry were on the same wavelength. Hence, her inquiry.
“Uh...The Department calls y’Rose sometimes, but m’not too sure why.” he shrugged. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He had no idea why, but he hated the way she frowned immediately. She looked at her lap, twiddling her thumbs together silently. Harry could see the vulnerability plain on her face. It seemed like she stopped breathing. It appeared he wasn’t going to get a follow up either—at least not voluntarily. He paused the movie to turn toward her fully on the other couch. “S’matter, love?” He hoped his voice was equally gentle, not too pressing. Despite her low-key couple of weeks, Harry was still wary of anything that might set her off. She was agitated still—rightfully so—but he was grateful she was merely agitated with his constant worry. Part of him believed she was maybe even a little fond of it.
She was silent a moment longer. “They still call me that?” She asked so quietly, Harry had to strain to hear her voice.
He didn’t know why they called her Rose. He thought it was pretty. It reminded him of Titanic, one of his favorite movies he used to watch with Gemma growing up. Objectively (but also very much subjectively on Harry's part), she was beautiful like a rose and smelled pretty like one too. It didn’t seem like a bad thing to be nicknamed after one but she looked as if he just called her the c-word. “What do y’mean?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “They started calling me Rose because they said I looked so pretty on the outside...so it distracted people from all the thorns and injuries I cause.”
Harry didn’t like that one bit. He thought a federal agency should also have a bit more class than that—especially if she found out about it.
“I know I’m annoying, but they really just don’t like me,” she explained. “They protect me out of courtesy and obligation. I’m hoping I can make them sick enough that they’ll just leave me alone.”
Harry tilted his head at her. She was annoying at best. She escaped a lot. Required endless paperwork to be done. But she was 24 and as far as he knew, no one had given her an ounce of grace or privacy regarding her role as the Secretary’s daughter. Especially in the last seven years in her role.
“I never wanted the detail. My dad was insistent. Especially after my mom,” she murmured.
She never really talked about her mom. There were no pictures of her on social media and not a lot by way of Google searches. “Where is your mum?” Harry asked.
She looked at him with her more regular, usual, irritated expression. “Seriously?”
He glanced at her in confusion. “Uh...yeah.” She stared at Harry, still irritated for a few quiet seconds. It occurred to her after Harry didn't respond or break the silence that he was in fact serious. She was surprised he didn't know.
Her expression changed from irritation to this wistful, forlorn one. “She died...well...personally, I think she was assassinated but apparently since she’s not a politician it doesn’t count. And of course no one believes me nor asks for my opinion.”
Harry blinked. He thought about his own mother. One of his best friends. The person that texted him without fail every time he felt anxious about an important meeting or the first day on a new job. The one support system in his life that would say honey bun, it’ll work out, no matter how bleak the future seemed in that moment. When there was a girl, Harry told his mum before anyone. If he was feeling poorly, mum gave him a soup recipe that was sure to cure him.
She didn’t have that.
That was a tragedy.
Clearly, she didn’t get along with her dad. He wondered if he would get more insight on that if he could maintain this kind of relationship with her. Harry found all her anger and her attitude suddenly tolerable. No wonder she was so...her. The poor thing.
“Christ, love. M’sorry.”
She shrugged. “S’whatever.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He was speechless. How do you console someone over something like that? Harry had more questions. Did they wipe it from the internet? Was it traumatizing beyond what was expected of something like that?
Was she there when it happened?
After another moment of silence, she pressed play on the movie. Neither of them spoke for a minute but Harry couldn’t bring himself to focus on the movie. When she began speaking once more, she didn’t pause the movie again. But she broke Harry’s heart. “Sometimes I think they wished I died instead of my mom.”
Again, he was so overwhelmed with worry for her mental well-being he didn’t really know what to say. He certainly didn’t think he could try and console her. Moreover, he didn’t think he would say the right thing. Still...Harry felt compelled to speak. “M’sorry they call you Rose, love.” She didn’t acknowledge him. Kept her eyes on the screen. “Think you’re much more of a Wildflower,” he mumbled under his breath.
That got her attention. She turned away to look at Harry, her eyebrows pinched together the way he worried would cause her a headache. Her lips pursed into a scowl. “Is that a joke at my expense? Seriously?”
He shook his head quickly. “No, fuck,” God, Harry sucked with words sometimes. He felt his cheeks warm a bit in embarrassment that she was acknowledging his words—and more so misinterpreting them. “Sure...they’ve got this ‘wild’ side. But...s’because they grow anywhere. They’re strong,” he shrugged. “They’re bright too...light up the side of the road even if the road isn’t pretty...they don’t need a lot of...care from others. But they’re gentle anyway. Even when s’hard t’be growing under difficult circumstances,” he was kind of rambling.
She really liked what he was rambling about. Warmth spread through her body as he explained himself; there was a sure flutter in her heart that shouldn’t have been there. Harry was being much too kind. Especially when she already tried escaping at least a half dozen times when he was present. Even when she knew she was being a miserable brat each time she did it.
He thought she was strong and gentle.
Of course, the most Neanderthalic part of her girl brain pointed at an invisible neon sign flashing with the words that Harry (someone who was so objectively hot, she would have killed anyone in her path to throw herself at him if he wasn’t in charge of her security detail. If he was just a regular guy she met on the street) thought she was pretty.
“Oh,” she said looking back at her lap once more. “That’s...” she cleared her throat awkwardly. She swallowed, feeling tears fill her eyes. That was by far the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her. Especially since she started needing a security detail. Especially from someone on her security detail. “Thank you,” she rolled her lips into her mouth looking at the opposite wall. She refused to cry because of Harry. And if she was going to cry it was not going to be in front of him. All because he said a few nice things about her comparing her to wildflowers.
Flowers that were obviously pretty—and Harry knew flowers more than any man she had ever spoken to. His comparison of the flower was strong but still gentle...?
Fuck. She couldn’t not cry.
“Are y’alright?” He asked wearily while she had this battle with her sympathetic-nervous system to keep from crying.
“Yeah...” she said and got up from the couch marching down the hall to the bathroom. She turned on the sink and let out a choked sob as she covered her mouth. It had been ages since someone said kind things like that about her...maybe since her mother passed away.
There was a knock on the door only moments after. “Y’okay, love?” Harry asked.
She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. Trying to keep the tears at bay she squashed the emotion from bubbling in her throat, “Yeah...” unsuccessfully as her voice broke. “Just my mom,” she lied.
She couldn’t see him, but Harry felt like an ass making her upset. Then he felt madder that DSS made her upset. He was going to tell Niall to get everyone to stop calling her Rose immediately. He pressed his head against his arm, leaning on the frame of the bathroom door. “Y’sure?” He asked. If she wasn’t someone he was responsible for keeping watch over, he would have strongly considered yanking the door off the hinges and holding her until she stopped crying. Maybe get her a chocolate bar—the kind she always grabbed at the checkout line.
“Can you just go away?” She snapped.
Harry sighed. It always felt like one step forward and five steps back with her. “Yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled and retreated back to the sitting room.
For her benefit, he pretended he couldn’t hear her crying. Even though it hurt him almost as badly as when he was feeding her peanut butter toast.
*
She had been grumbling for ten minutes. Scribbling interrupted by moments of typing furiously. When she studied, Harry was used to the way her method took up the entirety of the sitting area—nearly both couches, the coffee table, and the floor in between. She sat on the ground, not the sofa. If he weren’t scared of her when she studied—the only time he thought that she was truly scary unlike the rest of DSS because she took studying so seriously—he would tell her it looked like she was having a séance and asking for some biochemist of the past to help her.
But whatever she was doing tonight finally came to a head. When she threw her notebook across the room. Harry had paid almost no mind to her grumbles and quiet curses under her breath up until then. He looked up from his computer with a smirk.
He was running the latest background check on the boy that had asked her on a date—Harry did not approve but it wasn’t his place to judge. The guy was too childlike and didn’t even ask her what her favorite food was and insisted they go to a local seafood place even though she hated seafood. She thought she was being stealthy, but he overheard her telling one of her girlfriends about the date he had planned for her.
His gaze returned to his screen. “Your poor notebook,” he mumbled quietly acknowledging she was upset but so as not to piss her off. She wasn’t doing it for Harry’s attention—again, he knew better than to mess with her study techniques.
“I’m not in the mood, Harry,” apparently, he was still messing with her method. “They save this class for last just so they can withhold degrees, I swear.”
“Love, you’re probably the smartest person I know,” he shook his head. “You’re gonna do well no matter what,” he shrugged simply. He truly believed that.
She ignored his compliment. She didn’t like the way it made her stomach flip—especially after the whole Wildflower discussion. “My brain is fried, and I have an exam first thing in the morning...and it’s just...” She sighed. “It’s so hard sometimes,” she mumbled.
Harry looked back up at her and tilted his head. “What’s hard?”
She glanced at Harry and then looked at her fingers like they were trying to tell her something. Harry didn’t press further. If she wanted to chat, she would. Without speaking, she went to fetch her notebook heaped at the wall and returned to her seat on the floor by the coffee table. Harry assumed she wasn’t going to talk to him about it. That was fine, he went back to his computer.
It was silent for a few moments other than Harry’s quiet tapping on the keyboard in front of him. But she didn’t move, no more scribbling or typing on her end. After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke again.
“No one...” she took a deep breath, shaking her head and then tried again. “I’m just my dad’s daughter,” she told him. “No one ever wants to hang out with me because I’m always under a microscope. It’s why I go out and do stupid things because it’s the only time I feel normal. I know it’s not good for me...I mean look at what happened a few weeks ago. People only want an in with Mr. Secretary,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Or...they want money...money that I don’t even want because I don’t think it’s fair or right that everyone around me works so hard...and struggles to pay for things,” Harry thought she might be the kindest soul he knew. Even when she was a pain in his butt.
“Do you know I picked this school because it was the cheapest in the city? I worked so hard for every scholarship I could get in high school, and I still took out a few student loans even though my dad told me it made him look cheap not paying for me. I’ve always paid my aunt the cheapest rent she was willing to bill me. She was going to just have me keep an eye on this apartment that she doesn’t even use. But I don’t want people to think I’m the spoiled brat that everyone believes I am. I found an online transcriber job because no one in their right mind would hire me for an in-person job. Someone that always has a full detail of security around her. I work almost thirty hours a week doing it in between class and studying. I know I’m extremely lucky and fortunate. But I don’t take anything from him. I don’t want it. People don’t see that though. I’m just the daughter of the US Secretary of State. In their eyes, my path was paved before me even though I was the one that built it for myself.”
Harry frowned. He never thought about what it must be like to be the child of a top political official. He wondered why she was always going out and trying to escape. It didn’t make sense with her brilliant mind and her hidden, but still somehow sunny disposition.
Despite all the horror stories, this was his favorite version of her. The real her. The one that told Harry things and made herself a bit vulnerable. The empathy he felt for her in that moment was overwhelming. She was seated back on the couch looking over flashcards. Her brow pinched together the way he hated.
“I know everyone told you I was a brat. I know I’m a brat a lot of the time. I don’t mean to be,” her voice cracked a little on the words and Harry watched as the background check on the boy came back clean. Nothing of note. Harry scoured his social media profiles and other than a bit of college binge drinking, he didn’t find anything scary enough to dissuade her from seeing him other than his personal belief that he was a terrible option. “I’m sorry I give you a hard time. I don’t mean to. I’m just...very lonely. Everyone in this class had a person to help them study except me. Because no one wanted to be associated with me.”
Harry closed his computer. Maybe it was a bad idea. But maybe her rant was her way of getting Harry to feel sorry for her so he wouldn’t realize when she was making a run for it again. This reprieve of going out each weekend couldn’t last forever. This date was proof of it. For the last few weeks, he had been enjoying the painless following her; while she ran errands, watched movies, or he spent the time listening to her clean, watching her study, and work around her apartment. However, his mum would be ashamed of him for not trying to care for the poor thing when she was all upset. Slowly he made his way over to the couch with the least amount of study materials on it. “Tell me ‘bout what you’re learning, then,” he shrugged and sat on the sofa.
She stared at him. “You can’t seriously want to help me study.”
“M’not doing anything but sitting there. May s’well make some use of me. Maybe you’ll teach me something.”
There was a pause. She gnawed on her lip nervously. “Yeah?”
He took the flash cards from her hands. The electric currents he felt as her fingers brushed his was overwhelming. He took a moment to steady his breathing (and his heart) as he admired her pretty neat handwriting. He smiled as he read over the words. “I don’t even know how t’pronounce this, love, s’like gibberish. Maybe I won’t be much help,” he remarked. "What is this? Halloween-genisis-candy canes?"
She giggled and looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Harry," she said releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding.
“Of course, love.”
"And it's Hallogenalkanes."
*
She didn’t notice when Harry fell asleep because they had taken a break from him quizzing her so she could reread the study guide once more. It wasn’t until the flash cards fell from his hands that she realized it was well past midnight. She smirked at him snoring quietly. He was pretty cute when he slept...and wasn’t constantly on her about what was correct protocol. She grabbed the cards into a messy pile and placed them on the coffee table. Careful not to wake him, she quietly collected all her study materials and added them to the haphazard pile on the coffee table as well. Gently, she threw a blanket over top of him, and she swore she could see him sigh, face smushed against the back cushion.
She should have gone to sleep in her bed for the mere few hours she would get her mind to settle before waking up for her exam. Sleeping in her bed would be better for her brain. But despite everything, Harry helped her. Really helped her.
Plus, if she went into her room, she could only imagine all the noise Harry would make in the middle of her REM cycle in the few short hours she had once he realized he had fallen asleep. She imagined he’d attempt to rip every door off its hinges before he concluded that she was just asleep in bed.
Instead, she scribbled a note to leave on the bathroom door for him, brushed her teeth, then grabbed a pillow and another blanket off her bed. Returning to the free couch, she made herself comfy; sure to be in full view of Harry so when he opened his eyes, she would be the first thing he saw.
When he did wake up later—completely broken that he fell asleep because it’s so unprofessional and so not protocol he could scream—he was immediately relieved to see her beautiful, sleepy face facing him on the other sofa. He rubbed a hand over his face, irritated with himself. But this is his other favorite version of her. The gentle, worriless, pretty girl he can’t help but start to really like.
Realizing that protocol was next to impossible with this girl, he had one little back and forth silent argument with himself deciding if he should leave her be or take her to her room. But she had an exam in the morning, and she deserved a comfy bed. It had been weeks since he had to hold her, cradled in his arms, and it felt so effortless now. He tried not to think about how nice it felt, especially now that there was no danger. In her sleep, she nuzzled her face against his chest, and he definitely felt a pang of...well that emotion was definitely not protocol.
He brought her to her room, carefully laid her on her bed and covered her with plenty of blankets because he definitely wasn’t going to be trying to wrangle the sheets and duvet around her. He felt an absurd amount of adoration as he tucked her in and he tried to shove it as deeply as possible into his chest.
Once her door was closed, he turned and found the note taped to the bathroom door. It wasn’t as neatly written as her flash cards, but somehow, he found this handwriting even more beautiful. It was loopy—not quite printed, not quite script. Harry had watched her doodle and scribble a lot over the last few months. He knew that she ended a lot of her doodles with little hearts, she signed birthday cards to her friends with a little heart at the end of her name every time. But he found the little heart at the end of her note to him the most precious thing in the world.
Thank you for the help studying. I won’t tell anyone you fell asleep. Don’t worry, I managed to brush my teeth without any kidnapping nor dying. I hope you sleep well.
Harry--becoming fully aware of what was happening to his heart and why but couldn't be bothered to stop it anyway--smirked, felt the dire need to call his mum about her, and put the note in his wallet.
*
She had completed her exam and looked terribly exhausted. Harry typically followed about five steps behind her. He found she usually liked to grumble to herself about whatever she forgot in class or if there was an issue with the exam itself. But today she was quiet and after a few steps outside the flow of traffic of most others she turned to wait for Harry to catch up. “Coffee?” He asked. She shook her head and continued in stride with his steps. She didn’t speak. Just walked alongside him.
Fortunately, it was getting cooler, so her leggings and long sleeve sweater were no longer out of place. Harry, however, looked like a spy, forget agent. He wore black dress pants and a crisp white button down and black tie that she could see due to his open black leather jacket. She wanted to ask if he had a date after he got done here because he looked really good.
But that made her think about Harry dating, and she felt so jealous she thought she might gag at the idea and trying to ask him. “Y’okay, love?” He asked gently opening the passenger door.
“Hmm?”
“Y’kinda...squeaked? I don’t know.”
Shit. “M’tired,” she mumbled not looking at him as he went around to the driver’s side. “You look nice,” she continued staring out the window. “You have a date or something?” She smirked unable to contain her curiosity.
Harry had this laugh that made her insides turn to mush. His laugh didn’t go on and on for ages, but the first few notes of it were like the melody to her favorite song. He didn’t let it out all the often. His “movie” laugh, as she liked to call it, was much more subdued and frequent.
But right now she got his real laugh, her favorite song. Even when it shouldn't have been. “I don’t really have time t’date all that much. I do have a meeting this afternoon t'discuss...your dad coming next week.”
She bristled at the idea of her dad coming to town. She couldn’t decide if she would rather he didn’t come at all. But it was Thanksgiving and he had facades to display and people to impress that he and his only daughter had a happy life even though they suffered such terrible tragedies. “Oh,” she was quiet a minute. Harry stopped at the coffee shop drive thru despite her protest because he knew she had work when she got home and her left eye was drooping more than the right. She was grateful for that because her original intention was to go home and sleep for an hour, but Harry seemed to know what she wanted better. “Why do you have to be there? Aren’t you just mine?”
Shit, shit, shit. That was not how she should have said it.
Harry smirked, ordered his and her usual, leaving her in agony as she thought about the prospect of Harry being hers and what his reaction was regarding this information she blurted out awkwardly. She didn’t want to further acknowledge it, finding interest in the parking lot outside her window instead. However, she could see the way Harry mulled it over with excitement in his eyes. “I am jus' your agent,” there was a smug little dimple on his cheek that she wanted to smack off his face. Her heart took off even if she wanted to wipe his shit-eating grin off his lips. “But...m’the only one who doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving...so s’kinda like I’ll be in charge of everything, so people can have their holiday with their families.”
That seemed like a big deal. Even from her perspective. Harry in charge of it all, even for a day. “Oh, wow,” she said blinking. “Is that something you...want?”
“I’d much rather jus’ focus on you if that’s what you’re asking. Think m’starting t’have you all figured out, love.” She resented that. She liked being a mystery. Or a pain in the butt, and what have you. She took the coffee cup he passed along to her and scowled even though her heart was a mess knowing Harry just wanted to focus on her.
Within seconds, she was a bit down about it. Her heart settling into a miserable pattern instead. If he did a good job at this, he would probably be up for promotion. Which was probably something he wanted. He would probably leave her detail and she would get stuck with someone new who didn't help her study and complained when she needed help hanging up her floral stuff. “Y’okay?” He asked again. She certainly wasn’t about to tell him about her fear of abandonment again.
She shook her head. “Fine. Just...I don’t know, we’ve still got an hour of that movie left. Thought we were going to finish it today,” she muttered.
“Sorry, love. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked.
He frowned. “Oh right,” he sighed. “Well, whenever we—”
Her phone was connected to the SUV so she could play her music when they drove around, so it quietly alerted the pair of them that her father was calling. She looked at her phone for two rings, closed her eyes, sighed, and answered. “Hi, Dad,” she said gently.
Harry had never heard that tone before.
She listened, nodding, muttering quiet “uh-huhs,” every so often. “Good, I had an exam today,” her voice was quiet. Timid. Harry was so surprised she even knew how to be timid. “So...when do you fly in?” Harry saw her shoulders deflate just a hair. “Oh,” she mumbled. “No...s’fine. I can...go to a friend’s or something. Yeah. Yeah, of course,” she nodded. “I love—”
Harry saw the call ended on the little screen before she finished her statement. She dropped her phone in her lap and looked out the window. For thirty seconds there wasn't a sound in the car except for the tires on the road. “Pull over,” she said softly. Harry could tell she didn’t want to have to ask twice or be asked questions.
But he had to try anyway. “Is everythi—”
The second Harry was parked, her door was opened, and she was sprinting down the sidewalk. Harry nearly lost his bearings in the sudden change in her demeanor. She didn’t even close her door. He struggled to get his seatbelt off and hurriedly closed their doors before running to catch up to her. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned. Fortunately, his strides were two of hers, so he was able to catch up to her quickly before she turned down the next street. Even in his leather jacket and dress pants. He hoped he didn’t look terrible for his meeting later in front of The Secretary. “Love, what the hell are you doing?” He asked and grabbed her arm pulling her back toward him before she could run any further. She stumbled a bit, Harry steadied her before she was yanking her arm from him. Her gaze was directed away from him. It was then he noticed how misty her eyes looked--even just the view of her profile. “Hey,” he said gently. Much softer than he probably should have because he was supposed to be mad at her. “Love, what’s—”
She shook her head and swallowed. “My birthday is Wednesday; do you know that?” She whispered. He nodded—of course he did. He actually bought her a book he saw that he thought she’d like. Along with her favorite kind of gel pens and journal with flowers on it. He didn’t even mean to get them, but he was at the bookstore on his day off and he couldn’t stop thinking about her flowery apartment when he saw the journal. He wanted to buy her the whole bookstore if he was honest but didn't know what to do with the misplaced emotions and so just stuck with the three little items. “Dad doesn’t remember. Ever. Even though it’s almost always right before Thanksgiving.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. Mum began the count down two weeks before his birthday each year. She would give him updates of the contractions she got the night before his birthday every year, retelling the events for the last twenty-nine years. She told him that “right now, I was having a bowl of cereal. I think that’s what did me in. Swore you didn’t like the kind I chose and wanted out.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he said quietly. Why did she run? “But—”
“He’s not coming. He’s...I don’t know what he’s doing, he didn’t really say. Said he couldn’t make it,” she croaked. “You’re not having your meeting today. I’m sorry,” like it was her fault. “You’re gonna be stuck with me all by my miserable, lonely self and—” She choked on a sob. She didn’t even cry like this when she came to, at the hospital. The only time she ever cried like this was when it came to stuff about her dad. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I swear to God he doesn't even love me," she sobbed. "And I don't even know if I love him most days but I'm his daughter," the anguish in her voice hurt Harry more than all the paperwork he ever had to do. It might have hurt more than the night he watched her in the hospital. Harry’s job was to protect the daughter of the US Secretary of State and it seemed like the only protection she needed was from the very same person. “I—”
“I’ll be there,” he promised. He just wanted to stop the tears. But it was true either way. They pulled so hard on his emotions seeing her so distraught. At least when she studied and worried, she wasn’t doing well, he could remind her she was brilliant and help her study. How did he comfort her when she was lonely for affection, and he was just supposed to be her security agent? “Love,” he practically cooed, he couldn’t take it. Gemma would be so helpful right now if she were here; stroking her hair and telling her she looked pretty or suggesting something useful like stuffing their faces with chocolate cake. Or shopping until their feet hurt. Harry felt useless. There wasn’t much he could do except pull her toward him and wrapped her in a hug. She sobbed against him openly.
They must have looked like quite a pair on the sidewalk to the few people passing by as she blubbered into his shirt. His nice pressed shirt that she was staining embarrassingly with snot and tears. She clung to him instinctively wishing she could disappear behind his jacket like a magic trick.
He rubbed her back soothingly, as best he could. “I know, m'sorry, love,” he murmured. “I know,” his voice was gentle as he repeated his sentiment to her. “M’sorry." It wasn’t enough. He wished he could do more, say more. Despite the stares, no one really seemed to mind the way she cried into his shirt. Harry’s phone was vibrating with messages—probably relaying information she just gave him of his cancelled meeting. “Wanna go finish our movie?” His voice was quiet. She nodded, sniffled and wiped her eyes as she pulled away from him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
He shook his head. “S’okay.”
“Sorry I ran.”
He shrugged again. “Y’didn’t get far.”
They were quiet as they headed back. A few stray sniffles wracked her body every few steps. “I outran an agent once on your day off,” her voice was a little stronger and they walked back, side-by-side toward the SUV up the road.
He chuckled. “How come?”
“Didn’t think he could keep up,” she shrugged. “He couldn’t by the way. Is there no like...physical fitness test? Like I can’t even run that well so the fact he was struggling...” she trailed off shaking her head. “S’not a good look for DSS. If I could give them a negative star Yelp review, I would.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re something else, Miss Wildflower,” her face warmed at his gentle little nickname. She would never forget the codename conversation as long as she lived but she was surprised he thought about it at all.
“You don’t have American friends or something...on Thanksgiving?”
He shook his head. “M’all yours, love,” he smirked. “I’ll help y’cook and we can watch movies?” He asked opening her car door again. She paused before she got in.
“If you’re sure,” her voice was quiet, unsure. She didn’t want to force him—especially when he really was under no obligation now that her father wasn’t going to be there.
“M’sure,” he nodded closing her inside before going to his side.
Harry was all hers.
--
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you want pharma and prowl? I’ll give you pharma and prowl!! Them both as romantic rivals trying(and failing) to woo reader (gn, can be whatever species) cause they are both losers (affectionate) they keep trying to flirt with reader, but are so jealous and possessive they keep getting in each others way, which is not helping their image in front of readers eyes. Maybe reader is a secretary and has worked under both, and their personality(and bod) attracted them in the first place . Here’s your pharma and prowl <3
author’s note : YESSSS YESSSSS THIS IS THE CONFLICT I NEED. ILL GIVE YOU A SMOOCH FOR THAT IDEA ALONE ANON. I’m a sucker for these tropes on goddd. Also don’t mind me as I change it to a medic, since it’s more flexible for me to work with <3 possible three some later ;;)) also, whoo! This is a lot longer than I expected.
ONLY ONE WAY UP THE HIGH WAY
summary : prowl and pharma finds themselves as rivals when they pine for the same darling pet and thus the inevitable egos clash.
You hate rom-coms.
Now, you might be a hopeless romantic; delving and losing yourself in romantic stories, tugging even the most deepest heartstrings which gets you all giggly and kicking your feet. What you hate, however, are bland characters. A random, mix and mash kind of chemistry, forced with no substance, set up as a love triangle.
Which is, quite literally, what's occuring right now.
You see, you’re a medic up in Delphi for some time before being paired up as Prowl’s buddy-buddy partner, because Chromedome insists someone needs to look after that unruly cop who’s always destined get himself killed.
And so you do. Upon Ratchet’s introduction to the Autobot SIC he’s not exactly someone friendly. He's, ah, rigid and prickly, the know it all by the book, kind of prickly. His unresolved anger issues takes quite the toll wheb you tend his wounds or even so much as to touch his arm. Though, demure as you are, you know when to stand up for yourself when the situation gets out of hand. And this kind of resistance managed to ease down his sharp edges. Now, he’s still a prick, a tolerable prick more accurately, but you’re both good pals!
Or so, that’s what you thought.
One unassuming day, you were lounging off as usual in the main area, gathering your bearings after another tough match with the hoards of patients when your communicator buzzes with a ping. It's a message from Pharma.
An Autobot base will be set up here in Messatine at due time. Will be expecting your arrival promptly.
Ah, Delphi. How long has it been, seven years? Meeting your mentor again was something of a, well, it wasn't far from a dream. Wasn't really a need, either. But it's definitely something, at least. Besides, Prowl said he had to monitor the new crew in case they messed up the communication systems, again. So, you decided, with a hopeful heart, to follow along with the Coppa to Delphi.
Yeah, bad decision. Whomp, whomp.
That hospital might have it's up and downs, and while saving patients might not be it's strongest suits, it's decor are definitely a catch to mind. Goodness, since when did they have the funds to do that? The stark white of the tiled floor ( since when did they had marble designed pillars? ) embellished with grey, engraved carvings stumped your prior, blatant distaste of the facility.
It's safe to say you're surprised.
You're sauntering across the halls of the hospital, admiring the added features of new wards, machinery and nurses, when you bump into a wall that is, apparently, Pharma. Your, uh, very, very nice superior who you squint at your notes is definitely obsessively clingy BUT very smart , but also crazy. Like, mad crazy. Haha....
Why do you attract people like this.
"And, who ..? is this?" Condescension spools from his tone as he sizes up the Autobot SIC with a careless wave of his hand like he's some newly discovered specimen.
"Their partner." He makes sure to emphasize the 'partner' like it's a bullet. "The 'who', here is a Prowl."
"Oh, is it now. I didn't expect you to move on that quickly, dear."
"You're in a relationship?" You feel his glare on you; it's not a question.
"No, he's just—"
"Kidding! I'm only kidding." Pharma gives a hearty laugh. "My, my, officer. You know, tight muscles are a sore to deal with if you're not going to loosen them anytime soon."
"No thanks. I'll stick with a stroke."
"Ah, the ever so pessimistic. Pleasure to meet you then, officer. I've heard lots about you."
The doctor gracefully extends a hand to which Prowl ignores and then replies without much a look to him.
"If that's so, then I'm not very pleased."
The hand falls sharply, so does the smile.
"Oh, good,"
You swore you heard a joint breaking when he snaps his neck to your direction, and while you look away, you knew the chesire grin-like smile on his face is nothing but a threat.
"Very, very good." He straightens up. "How about a tour?"
Honestly, you expected the two would be more civil since they’re both so heads over heels about their reputations in front of another superiorly defined character. What you didn’t expect, however, is intruding in a tug of war that materialized from, seemingly, out of nowhere.
Right, the doctor insisted on an individual tour of your own. He suggested Ambulon show Prowl around, while he would take the pleasure of doing the same to you.
Obviously, Prowl isn't having any of that. So, you're currently between them, one arm in Pharma’s grip and the other in Prowl’s unrelenting grasp. You wince as their digits dig into your skin. If they're not careful, that's gonna leave a mark for sure.
“They already know their place around the medical facility, Jet-fuel. I’m sure they’re able to handle themself just fine without your guidance,”
“Oh, yes indeed,” Pharma, despite Prowl’s 100 degree glare, grits through his forced grin and yanks you back by the scruff of your collar, right into his chest, “I invited them here, I might as well show them around. If I didn’t know any better you’re trying to hog my staff.”
You know better than to voice your opinions. Their inner brain workings, all the cogs and mannerisms were already familiar; operating under their influence is like treading around a field of broken hards bound to prick you at any moment lest you misstep.
"Your staff?” The Autobot SIC scoffs. “Im not hogging them. It's long gone. They're not working for you, anymore. But I'm sure you're not aware of that since you've got a stick up your ass."
“Not quite, actually. Before they became your little pet—“
“They're. Not. My. Pet. I’d prefer it if you didn’t reduce them to some mindless animal—"
“Doesn’t matter. they’ll be fine. I know you haven’t you heard about this since you’re new here but Delphi has its new additions around the facility. I’m merely trying to greet back an old prodigy of mine back. In fact, they’ll be fine without you.”
"Oh, really." Prowl's up in his face now, grinding his dentas.
"How about you push my buttons and let's see where this leads?" Pharma taunts with an obvious tick on his under-optics.
That’s last week and you’re surprised when Prowl is frequenting your work station more often, always nagging you about your reports and how you ‘incorrectly’ structure them. That's strange, he never does that. Why is it only now he's bothering you about it?
When you asked him to take a look, however, he merely tosses it elsewhere and hands you his own datapad for you to look through. Of course, Pharma pops up round the corner and chastises the strategist for hogging his medic’s working hours. He says it's 'unethical' use of Power-play and authoritism and that Prowl should be locked up in jail.
Even worse, they’ve had this tug of war battle where they would try to ‘woo’ you when they can. You weren’t surpised; Pharma’s quite full of himself, so obviously he’s got territorial problems, even though you're not sure why he's so possessive over you. But later you realized he IS the entire problem. Not singular, not plural, he’s a walking embodiment of a complicated problem.
It gets worse when you're trying to do your work and here they are barging into your cubicle with another problem. At this point, you’re convinced it’s just a fight Pharma puts up because he hates sharing his pets. Now? He’s gotten too far down the rabbit hole to get up. For sentient robots who’s been through a war and back, they’re so damn petty.
Pharma’s idea way of flirting is more up and personal, he doesn’t care about your personal space and he never will. Brother in Christ, this mech does NOT leave you alone. AT ALL. He touches you whenever the time allows him to and you knew he's doing that to get under the lesser affectionate Cop-bot's skin, who finds physical touch repulsive.
Sometimes, you feel his hands up on your waist, your back against his chest as he leans over to regard your report, chin on your shoulder. If he’s feeling more bold, he often puts in his two cents of insinuating a quick session in the office which you, uh, politely decline because you’ve got a meeting with the new interns.
There's always another time, he'd jest. Yeah, well, not so funny. He’s clingy, obsessive and despite the charming suave-esque front of a Bond Villain he puts up, he’s easily the best person you can turn into a pile of seething venom.
“My little pet, I think it’s high time Prowl has his duties transferred off elsewhere, don’t you think?” His optics are twitching, and his unusually sharp talons pierce the metal desk. “ Not that I mind, that rancid Cop-bot has been getting in my nerves, recently. Wrong, this, regulations that. Can you believe it, he terminated half of my crew for, as per his words, carrying out unsanitary operations! Thats defamation! A false accusation. It takes a whole restraint not to shove him down the grinds of the accelerator.”
Please, don’t.
“He’s just monitoring the district, sir.” You maintained a neutral tone. He’s at your desk again. And, instead of trying to woo you into his bed he’s complaining. Oh, my god. I’ve got a report due tommorow. And you’re complaining. Someone, help me.
“Well, he’s not monitoring anything anytime soon with how much blood he’s leeching from your body. I should've known better than to agree with his demands to stay in your office as well. He’s stuck to you like a damn mosquito.”
Like, you're any better. You deadpan.
Prowl, on the other hand is aware and accepted the fact that he’s definitely not the most likable or the best lover kind of material out there. And, to take someone like YOU to like him, someone playful and fun, not ripping out his head every two seconds, is a blessing in and of itself.
He can't even stay a second around someone without pissing off their early descendants. So, with his glock locked and loaded he takes 'counteractive measures' to ensure that nobody is going to take that moment of happiness away from him. Even if in unethical terms he’ll have to ensure it.
“You’re been forty five meters off from your office.”
You let out a startled yelp, swivelling around to meet Prowl, oh thank god prowl, who's expression is pinched, lips pressed in a thin line and his hands are intertwined behind his back, military-like.
“I’m buying drinks,” You clutch the myriad of snacks and drinks in your arms, blinking away your pounding heart. “ H-how’d you find me?”
Prowl merely glances at the contraption on his wrist where, when you crane your neck to look over, is a circular radar with a blinking red dot.
“You’re to notify your disappearance when necessary.” He grunts out and turns on his heel. “Let me know when Jet-fuel decides to harass you again,”
Weird. Still, you brush off his disdain for the medic as nothing when instead his, ah, paranoia (?) goes on for months. That one instance youre in the bathroom? Yeah. Hello, there. I'm just walking. Totally not peeking. Totally not—
Is that a new sock?
"Prowl!"
"I'm checking if there are cameras here."
"It's a bathroom?!"
"All the more reason why I should ensure there isn't."
What's more strange is the fact that there's a blatant evidence of someone meddling with your schedule. And, you had an inkling their tug of war session travelled even to technological seams.
This rivalry continued on (despite, literally, the entire hospital's annoyance) until you eventually lost it.
It was a Friday night.
A party was held in the lounge. The younger mechs had set the celebration up to mark the lethargic end of July. Of course, since you’re invited to the party, the two came along despite not being known as party-dwellers themselve. So, it was quite a sight for the young mechs to see.
You thought they’d tone down the hostility a little and even warm up with how much time they spnd trying to one up the other. That's enough months to start a relationship, God damnit. Unfortunately, you’re not able to drink freely without the two mechs pushing against your personal space. Prodding, blabbering away about how skimpy your outfit looked. You're wearing your uniform.
At some point you drink in defeat, squished between their two frames as either tries to stop you from drinking your misery out while the other eggs you on with another bottle.
After the party they insisted dragging you back to their quarters. You’re not even halfway into your room when they start bickering again.
“Don’t you have anything better to do, Prowl?” His name is a venomous jab in the guise of a forced, seething smile. “Your presence in the hospital is unnecessary as the security guard up front. A mandatory monitor check doesn’t require you here all the time. If i didn’t know any better, you’re deliberately trying to distract them so they’ll end up in your berth.”
You hold back a vomit as Pharma nabs you into his hold, the alcohol seething your veins aren’t doing much for your psyche and you stare dumbly at the floor, wanting to retch over it.
”I’m checking up on my partner.” Prowl stands his ground then tugs you into his chest again, “Doesn’t have anything to do with you, Jet-fuel.”
“Oh, it does, actually.” Another tug back, “ It’s called harassment and I'm going to report to your superiors for pestering one of my medics.’’
“Your medic?” He scoffs. “You’re a sad sorry bunch who’s got no chicks up his ass. If I didn’t know any better you’re manipulating them into caving into a newly registered scheme. A play toy, plaything, exhausted for pleasure. Don’t think I know you used to work with the D.J.D, Jet-fuel.”
“Call me that one more time and I’ll ensure your processor isn’t he only thing I’m dislodging from that helm."
“Illegal malpractice of surgery is an offense. Is that a threat, Jet-fuel?”
“Oh, you’ll see, Officer. You’ll see just how skilled I am with my Servos.”
They’re both at already each other’s throat, servos clenched, door wings, jet-wings flaring and blasters at the ready. The Engex they’ve ingested earlier only prompted the hostile ambience and as they were about to—
“Why won’t you both fuck me already!?”
In a fit of annoyance, inebriation and stupidity, the three horsemen of your misery, the words left your lips before you even think. They stop bickering and it felt like forever as they did a 180 , full, joints creaking swivel of a ‘What did you just say???’ baffled expression thrown at your direction.
But you’re still seething and only then you’ve realized your slip-up, you’re a crumpled mess on the floor, palms wide and open, clutching your face that’s unrelentingly burning. Pharma looks like he's been kicked in the crotch and Prowl looks like he's seen God.
Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.
“Both of us, hm?” You hear Pharma muse and whether or not Prowl is considering the prospect, all you want to do as of now, is to rot in this hole you dug for yourself.
#prowl x reader#idw prowl#transformers x reader#maccadam#idw pharma#pharma x reader#pharma#ikkosuwrites
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Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a fluffy story of Eddie with a shy female!reader? basically something where she transferred to Hawkins in the middle of her senior year, and she’s having a hard time talking to people. Super closed off, nervous, horribly shy. But one metalhead notices her and thinks she’s as cute as a damn button…
also could you make her short?🤣 I just love a good short reader haha
Summary: You are the new girl.....when things get ruff a certain metalhead find you quite the caught <3
Trope: Eddie x shy!reader; friends to crush to maybe lovers??
A/N: HIII @laurenandloki I hope you enjoy this I love when Eddie basically adopts the shy girl, I promise you peeps aren’t done with them yet, I want to make them into a little series to have them ofc fall in love and it would have been wayyy to soon to have them date it this one sooooo enjoy <3
Warning: Cussing, fluff, use of y/n, bullying, small hurt, but a lot of comfort
Word count: 2.1k
Alright you got this, you said to yourself it is just another school, no one knows who you are so you can have a new start, how bad can it be? So far it was going well you walked to the office and got your schedule you grimaced at your dad’s last name that cheating scum bag f you found out two months ago you dad had been living a secret life a double life. He said that he started a new position at work where for a week out the month he had to go out of the state to show the higher ups the quota from the month before, well that was a lie. Your mom one day went to the store but had to take the long way due to construction and had to pass by your dad’s work and his car was in the lot she was so confused maybe he forgot something she went to the store and grabbed him so thing for lunch. His car was still in the lot when she came around again. She walked up to his secretary and asked if he was in, she said yes and that his sister was in his office, mind you your dad is an only child, she then walked into the office and found him kissing his supposed sister who had a baby in her hands. His secretary had no idea about the affair and was generous enough to forward mom into a job in Hawkins. So now you are here in Hawkins going into your senior year and starting school in the MIDDLE of the school year, how bad could it be?
Everything was going great, until “Move it freshman” you were pushed from the back sending you forward, speak up for yourself stop being shy for once in your life “I-I-I am n-not a f-freshman" “Oh” the jock said “You must be from the middle school” the hallway erupted with laughter then the bell rang and everyone went their own ways when trying to get up a ringed hand came into view “Here let me help you up” a voice said you quietly thank them while getting up but didn’t make any eye contact you were too embarrassed. They lower themselves to make the eye contact you were met when the warmest brown eyes ever “Hi” the person said “Sorry about Jason he is a hugeee dick and think being mean to hot people it cool hence why I am his main target” he joked “Oh ok” “Yea oh let me see your schedule” he grabbed it out of your hand “Oh nice we have a lot of classes together including lunch here let me walk you” the walk was very short just to the end of the hallway “Here we are first period math it sucks having it be the first class of the day but then you won’t have to worry about it anymore” you both walked in and all eyes were on you fuck “Hey teach-” “Sit Munson your late” “I was-” “Sit” the teacher didn’t look up from his book “Can I help you” “Um yes I am new here” you showed him your schedule he huffed “Take any open seat” the only open seat was in the back next to that Munson? Was that his name? “Glad to have company back here” he said you gave him a thumbs up and turn to the board “You don’t talk a lot do you” he asked you shook your head “You should you have a pretty voice” Was he flirting with me? I only said like two words to him and he kinda called me hot did he call me hot? I DON’T KNOW. You just nodded at went back to writing notes. “Oh, by the way my name is Eddie” finally his name “Y/n” “Pretty name for a pretty girl” How bad could it be.
Eddie didn’t have second period with you, but he did walk you to the class. When exiting the classroom, you saw him running to you holding out his arm to take you to third period, which you did have with him. It was the same thing you went up to the teacher, they would tell you to sit in the open seat which was always next to Eddie, which you really did mind. Eddie noticed you didn’t really talk but he wanted to get to know you more, for the first time that day Eddie pulled out his notebook and tore out a page. A folded paper plopped on your desk you look at Eddie as he had a smirk you opened the folded paper in black writing was Hi you became to write looking for the teacher before throwing at his table in pink writing Hi. Your new form of communication, Eddie wrote so much that period, the teacher looked confused thinking he was writing notes, you learned he has his own club, he has a job, has sheep? And is in a band. Fourth period came rolling around but this time the only empty seat was in front, nowhere near Eddie, there was a pit in your stomach the same one you get when it is your turn to present. Was it weird that you grown attached to Eddie so fast? That class went by slow not sure if it was the lack of Eddie or that lunch was next, lunch!! where are you going to sit? The was a nice tree outside? Maybe the library? Your car? Maybe Eddie? No I am not going to get my hopes up he probably won’t want the short shy girl sitting with him and his friends. *ring* oh now the bell wants to go off. You slowly packed your things still trying to think of where you will be eating. You turn and ran into a chest “Woah slow down their short stuff” “Sorry” you mutter. He walked out you were walking toward the parking lot when you felt a tug on your backpack “Where are you going” he ask “My car” “Oh did you leave you lunch in there” “No” “Then why are you going” you can’t tell him that you are going to eat in your car like a loser “I-I-I" “You were going to eat in your car” he questioned “n-no” you mumbled “Yea you aren’t you are seating with me” “I am?” “Yep let’s get going” “With your friends” “Yea don’t worry they don’t bite, maybe Matt, but I will protect you” He will protect me? How bad could it be?
Eddie pulled you in front of him and started steering you using your shoulders he made little car noises and did a screech when stopping in front of three boys “Welcome to the table” he said bowing pulling a seat from the table next to them. “Here sit” “Thank you” Eddie’s friends stare at you, you started to shrink under their gaze “Quit staring” he told them “But she is a girl” said a one “Ok and” Eddie responded “Girls don’t sit or even associate with us” said another “Who even are you I have never seen you before” asked the last one “Ya’ll are acting like she is an alien your freaking her out” he turned to you “See this is exactly they are the reason why pretty girls like you don’t sit with us” he said patting your head “Oh this is y/n, y/n this is Jeff, Gareth, and Matt” he said point to each “By the way she is new which is why you haven’t seen her before she just moved her from...” he said looking at you “Oh um- New yor-” “NEW YORK why would anyone want to move from New York to sleepy town Hawkins” Jeff exclaimed “Long story” you said rolling your eyes. Eddie leaned on your shoulder and whispered, “You are going to tell me the story later right?” Are you ready to tell him the story? Is it too early in your friendship to talk about something deep? “Sure when we have time” How bad can it be?
“No way man the outer path is more suitable” Three younger boys came to sit at the table “Are you an idiot this is Eddie’s campaign we are talking about he is going to make the happier light place have way more trouble we should take the “dark way” as you call it” said the one in a cap on “Ah my sheep still going on about last night campaign” “Yea you ended we thing were heating up” said another wearing a track suit “Well you will have to see tomorrow night I have a few tricks up my sleeves or maybe a giant or two” the table erupt with yelling making you jump “you ok” Eddie asked you nodded “Who is that” asked the one with hair similar to Eddie’s but shorter “Oh this is y/n, y/n these are the sheep Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, sheep, she is an honorary member of Hellfire” “I am?” “Yes you are” the boys went back to talking about the campaign when tapped Eddie’s shoulder “um- what is a campaign” when you asked the whole table feel silent “How is this girl a honorary member if she doesn’t even know what a campaign is?” asked Mike “I-” Eddie interrupted you “I am Master here so I call the shots you either be nice to the pretty girl or leave” this is like the 3rd pretty girl Mike sat down and mutter something under his breath “What was that” Eddie said “Nothing” “Good” he turn to you and you were pulling out your lunch bag “Ooo what are we having for lunch” he asked “Oh um I have a sandwich, chips, and some cookies I made” you notice that Eddie didn’t have a lunch in front of him, he has been nice to you all day so it was time to return the favor, you gave him a half of your sandwich and put the chips in the middle of you two “We can have the cookies later” you said smiling up at him he thanked you and overly exaggerated about how good the food was. You really liked Eddie, his friends too, mike you need to get used to but how bad could it be
Lunch ended and Eddie kept you under his arm. You both had the last two classes together so it was really nice. You both still passed notes, it was really easy not getting caught the teachers didn’t look at Eddie’s direction that much. The final bell rang to go home. Eddie walked you to your locker, “So how was your first day” “surprisingly really good” “Yea” he smiled “Yes I had a cool master to show me around” you joke. He loved that you became more open with him. “So l/n what are you doing after school” you froze at the mention of your last name, “c-can you please not call me that” you said quietly “oh I am sorry I didn’t know.... is that a part of your long story?” “Yea I-I have to go” you said closing your locker, he saw you closing up again fuck Eddie you were so close “I am sorry” he said catching up to you “Please I didn’t know fuck I should have ask” who stopped at your car and took a breath “No I should be sorry for acting like that I am really sensitive to my last name and you obviously didn’t know because you don’t know me and you probably won’t want to due to my outburst-” “I would like to though” “Like to what?” “Get to know you, you seem really cool and pretty and you didn’t judge me over what people were saying or my friends and I being the freaks for the first time in a while I felt like myself at school with you” “I would really like to get to know you too” “Great ca-can I have your number” he said rubbing his neck. You pulled out your pink pen and wrote your number on his arm “Do you have like a curfew or can I call you whenever” he asked “Whenever” “Ok cool cool....can I call you when you get home” “Yes you can” “Great see you well actually hear you then” he replied “Bye y/n” “Bye master” you got inside your car waved at Eddie and drove away. Eddie watched you leave then pulled out all of the notes you have passed throughout the day and put it in his glove department, but he grabbed his favorite one, the first one, and put it on his dashboard he looked at his arm and smile, he got the pretty girl's number. You drove home quickly but safely you hurried to grab a snack and water ran to your room and waiting by your phone. Five minutes later the phone rang. “Hello” you spoked his voice boomed “Hey its Eddie” “Hi” “I hope you have nothing to do because I am planning to talk to you all night” How bad could it be.
tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh
Let me know if you want to be added<3
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie fanfic#eddie fluff#eddie x introvert reader#eddie x shy!reader#eddie munson x shy!reader#eddie munson x introvert!reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie my beloved#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#sugarsfics
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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to cafekitsune)
A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️
three - landslide
PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.
Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.
The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.
I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.
I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.
Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.
I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’
“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”
I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. “This is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didn’t go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.”
“Tough case, huh?” Beau sighed, folding his arms. “No prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ain’t giving you much to work with.”
“No kidding.” Jenny looked over the case files. “Lucy didn’t have any enemies, by what this file says.”
“She didn’t.” I shook my head, sitting on the table. “Luce, she was… an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. I’ll be damned if anyone hated her.”
“No motive.” Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “Could this just be a random crazed psycho?”
“No.” I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. “Can’t be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ain’t resting until I find them.”
“Do we at least have any leads?” Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. “Any at all?”
“The cassette.” I shrugged. “It’s the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, it’s Lucy’s 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doin’ bad karaoke in the living room.”
“So this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.”
“Somebody was sending threats.” Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. “Think about it. Her voice ain’t exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.”
“A necklace.” My head perked up, my fingers snapping. “One of ‘em, it contained a raven’s feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.”
“So she’d know it symbolises death and/or loss.” Jenny added, nodding. “That’s a start.”
“That also narrows it down.” Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. “Somebody had to know she’d understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.” He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. “At least you’re closer than you were before.”
“Hold on, though.” I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. “If that’s the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me… why now? Why at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”
“Maybe it was something personal, something important to her.” Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe she wanted Olivia’s sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.”
“That’s what’s stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, I’d understand, I don’t get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
“Is Lucy’s phone still kept safe?” Beau asked, deep in thought. “Maybe there’s some voicemails on there.”
“I’ll have to dig them up.” I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadn’t seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I don’t know why I saved the number.
“Who is it, darlin’?” Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.
“Again with the darlin’?” Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. “Cal Joyner.”
“The cheating dad Cal Joyner?”
“Yeah.” I nodded breathily. “He’s… here. In Montana.”
“Your dad in town, the cassette tape, this can’t be a coincidence. If it is, I’ll eat my hat. And trust me,” He chuckled deeply, “I love my hat.”
“There’s also how you can’t eat a hat.” Jenny contradicted with a judging look.
“I’m the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.”
“Right, let’s get off the subject of eating hats.” I interrupted with a snicker. “I’ll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucy’s death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.” I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. “Sound good?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I didn’t find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassie’s office, knocking before opening the door to find… Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.
Well, it’s not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickin’ desk.
“Woah, Cassie, get some.” I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You too, Cormac, haven’t forgotten you. Montana’s Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a mo’?”
“Gladly.” Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “Beau and Jenny won’t hear a thing.”
“Thank you.” She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.
“You’re welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.” I frowned, running a hand through my hair. “We’re reopening my sister’s case.”
“Oh, damn.”
“Indeed. We’ll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dad’s in town too, so I’ll have to see what’s up with that.”
“Wait- Cal Joyner?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Cheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?”
“The very same.” I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. “Yeah, so I have to find out why he’s in town now when evidence from my sister’s case has suddenly resurfaced.”
“I’ll get on that with Denise.”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.” I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.
“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” She sighed.
“No, absolutely not.”
I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucy’s broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Mom’s arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucy’s eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucy’s sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbour’s son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.
My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guy’s brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldn’t fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didn’t look at me the way they used to anymore.
Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the ‘withdrawal symptoms’ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.
Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)
I couldn’t help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so he’d get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didn’t even feel real at this point.
After that point, I’d sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sister’s murderer, I’d neglected what I really needed to preserve. So I’d set up a rule - that men weren’t my priority.
“Aunt Isa?” Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.
“Yeah, sweetheart? It’s late; are you ok?” I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didn’t wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. “C’mere, darlin’.” She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Nightmare. About mom’s death.”
“You didn’t see your mom dyin’, sweetie.” I kissed her hair lovingly. “It wasn’t real.”
“I imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.” I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.
“Oh, Liv.” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you had to imagine that.”
“Is this how you felt?” She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. “When you… when you found her?”
I paused, thinking about it. “If I was to describe it, it’d be like my world’s walls were fallin’ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ain’t due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopin’ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldn’t be more prouder of you, wherever she is.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” I nuzzled my cheek on her head. “You’re such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, she’d never wanna let you go.” I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone ‘love’ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tape…
I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.
“I took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...”
I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”
“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.
“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”
“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?
“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”
“I got Hoyt too.”
“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”
“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”
I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. “Talk to me, Cassie.” I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.
‘Hey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.’
“Cormac, huh?”
‘Yes. Now, we’re keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.’
“Gotcha.” I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. “Sheriff, can I have you as backup? So I don’t blow up at my dad?”
“Yeppers, let’s go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.” He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.
“Beau, as be nice as you can.” Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.
“Sorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,” Beau made finger guns at me, “then I hate him.” He turned the finger guns on himself. “Can’t help it, it’s principle. Now, c’mon, Belle. Let’s meet this dude.”
I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. “D’you mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?” He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donno’s sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.
“Elle.” He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but I’d come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.
“Donno.” I grinned, feeling more at ease. “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. “You were shot.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you ok?”
“I was shot, good eye.” I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. “But hey, I’m doing fine. Healing.”
“Good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. “That’s your dad. If you’re looking for him.”
I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. “Thanks, Donno.”
“You and Sheriff. You make a good couple.”
I didn’t really know what to say to that. “Uh… thank you, but we’re not a couple.” And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. “Cal Joyner.”
“Can I help you?” He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen, sir.” Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. I’d mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.
“Deputy Isabelle Joyner.” I added, which, as expected, made Cal’s eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.
“Isabelle?” He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. “You’re… oh, God. It’s really you. My little girl.”
“Back up for a moment, cowboy, I’m not here for a family reunion.” I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. “I’m here to know why you’re in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.”
“It was my granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.” He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. “I had to visit, right? But this town’s so big, i-it’s hard to find anybody-”
“You’re lying.” Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.
“Excuse me, young man?”
“Flattered, but I’m forty. Ain’t that young.”
“He’s right, Cal. You’re lying.” I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, he’d had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.
“Isabelle.” Cal gasped in disbelief. “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your father?”
“Not to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so I’m sure I can trust him over a man who’s been out of my life for thirty seven years.” Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. “You’re fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I don’t see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?”
“You can’t.” He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.
“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.
“See here, Mr Joyner, you are Belle’s father, and I will respect you that much, but a lot’s happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.” He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. “Now, you’re gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or we’re gonna find out usin’ methods that you won’t approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.”
“It’s good that you elaborated.”
“Yeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.” Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay put.”
“You know I can’t do that.” I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasn’t healed yet, so I couldn’t fight.
“Stay. Put.” He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. “Sheriff’s department, hands where I can see ‘em!” My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.
“Elle!” She cried out, looking terrified. “Behind you!” I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time.
After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.
Neither of them felt great.
I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beau’s shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall… what the guy looked like. I could remember… grey hair, possibly Mexican… or Hispanic… strong… build… 6’ 4”…
“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”
LMF TAGLIST:
@deans-spinster-witch
@hobby27
@nancymcl
@winharry
Let me know if you want to join the taglist, and do reblog or comment with your feedback, I’d appreciate it! Comment if you want an author’s cut :)
Love, Arty 💕
#beau arlen x oc#beau arlen x you#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#beau#jenny hoyt#cassie dewell#big sky#beau arlen fanfic#beau arlen fanfiction
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Honestly love how much Setheris Nelar totally screws things up for himself.
I mean, he was the primary caretaker for the future emperor from when he was eight years old. That's huge! If he had been even slightly less of an absolute dick, he would probably have ended up running the country.
Like, no offence to Csevet, but the first courier who stumbled into Edonomee at 4am with the message about Maia's ascension literally ended up being named Imperial Secretary and granted seemingly unlimited influence over the Emperor and his government. Within less than 24 hours.
That is how desperate Maia was for somebody to hold his hand through this. That could have been you Setheris!
And even if we assume that a version of Maia raised by a version of Setheris who actually gave a shit might have had the additional confidence and education necessary to stand on his own two feet more at the beginning, the Emperor's closest relative/friend/basically dad is still not to be sniffed at!
Again, Setheris raised Maia. He was seemingly the only adult at Edonomee who was tasked with taking care of him (beyond the servants, who seem to have been more involved with the practical stuff than providing any kind of emotional support). Endearing yourself to an eight year old boy, when you have ten years and total isolation to do so, shouldn't be this hard.
If Setheris was even vaguely nice to Maia, he'd have probably ended up forming some kind of strong emotional bond with him just by virtue of there being no other potential parental figures in the vicinity.
(Worth noting that the noblewoman hired to look after him for the funeral was vaguely nice to him for like a week, and Maia remembered that one week for ten years and then sought her out to offer his thanks and financial aid to her family virtually the moment he became emperor. This wasn't a hard kid to make a good impression on, is what I'm saying.)
Hell. If Setheris had managed to hire a nanny/tutor to take care of the bulk of Maia's day-to-day care, and just made the effort to be halfway decent when they passed each other in the hallways of Edonomee, Maia would still most likely have had a better relationship with him than with Varenechibel.
He could have been the slightly less distant father figure who ended up becoming chief advisor. It would have been so easy!
But no. Setheris instead chose to be an abusive shitheel for ten years straight, and now not only is he not trusted, but the Emperor literally cannot stand to be in a room with him without experiencing symptoms of panic attack. Setheris gets basically banished at the first excuse because his very presence at court is just that triggering for Maia.
Like, leaving aside how obviously shitty for him to have treated Maia (a literal child at the time) so badly, this is such a cock-up from a political perspective.
He was given a golden opportunity to mould the next Emperor's entire personality, and he blew it so hard that the Emperor now instinctively frames his likes and dislikes around what he knows Setheris wouldn't have approved of.
This should have felt like a reward, y'know? The return to court after all this time? The seemingly friendless kid you spent ten years caring for ending up being the fucking Emperor?
I mean, just imagine getting basically everything you ever wanted served up to you gift wrapped on a silver platter, only for it to be immediately snatched away because you are just such an utter repulsive cunt of a human being. Imagine having to admit out loud in front of several witnesses (including the main victim of your abuse and your own beloved wife) that you 100% deserve this because you are just that shitty.
Honestly couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
#goblin emperor#setheris nelar#maia drazhar#the goblin emperor#goblin emperor meta#goblin emperor analysis#abuse#tw abuse#child abuse#tw child abuse
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my first impressions of the characters from the twitter post thing that DRDTDev made about the other killing game. First off: I love all of them, and half the cast gives me gender envy. I am continually impressed at DRDTDev’s character designing ability, especially in making them interesting, non-boring designs that still communicate their personality and aren’t too complex or over designed. ugh. love them for it (/platonically and/or parasocially)
Also, this post will be kinda assuming you’ve already read the very little info we have about them. If you haven’t, go here: https://href.li/?https://t.co/muTM8j8MPH
ANYWAYS
First off, here’s an image of the characters!!
Beautiful, right?
…
Just take a few seconds to admire them.
Ok! I’ll be going over some theories that relate to all of the characters, and then character by character, and then at the end a little general reflection.
So, one of the main theories that have been posed is that this killing game takes place before the events of DRDT, which I am like 87% sure of (up 7% from my last post, woo). It makes sense, especially in the context of the other theories regarding the characters. As well as this, it just makes sense timeline-wise.
There is also a theory that every character is somehow connected to someone in the current killing game, which I am still a little unsure of. I can definitely see it for some characters, but we know so little about each of them that it’s really hard to say whether or not that’s true. I will be going over who I think could be connected to who, just in case it does end up being true. However, I think a more likely theory is that a couple of the people involved in this killing game (likely the survivors) are connected to the current one, and exactly how much is up for us to discover.
Ok, on to the characters!
First off!
(I don’t know why, but she’s the only one who’s photo is cropped. oh well)
Pretty!! For the sake of this post, I’ll be calling her Spiral (I will be using the names that @xmicrophonyx came up with!).
My first thought when I saw her (besides the obligatory screeching) was that she gave me teacher vibes? That might be since I already had the context of this story being “about a person who wants to become the perfect teacher”. But outside of that, she definitely looks shy, with her hunched over posture and expression. I do adore her color palette, and the pops of teal add a lot.
In terms of a possible talent/role, I still think she gives teacher-y vibes, whatever that means, although outside of that I would think her talent is something a little more professional, considering her attire being formal (the coat, top, and scarf most of all). So other possibilities could be a secretary, librarian, buisness woman, etc.
Spiral could also be some kind of fancy art critic, or someone who works with the Spurling Foundation, if we need to connect her to the current killing game somehow.
—
Next up!
The boy!!!!
I’m going to be honest with you. I think he’s my favorite. His demeanor, the neon green jacket, the fingerless gloves, the cap, the khaki capri pants, the aura of a 14 year old shoujo protagonist—he is the moment. The fan name for him is Soundwave.
I think he likely deals with music, since the pattern on his shirt reminds me of sound recordings. Specifically, he probably is into the more technical side of music, such as EDM or techno or something like that (I know pretty much nothing about music, so take my word with a grain of salt).
Because of this, I think Soundwave would be connected to J. J also is in a similar sort of technical profession, so I think that maybe he could be someone who ends up working with J in the future/has worked with J or something like that.
There’s one thing with Soundwave that also is present in 2 of the other characters—he looks quite a bit younger than most of the cast. He’s shorter, yes, but his proportions also make him seem younger. However, the DRDTDev specifies that all of the characters present are 18 or above, so it likely doesn’t mean anything. People can just look young, after all.
I think that’s all, but I’m really excited to learn more about this character because he just seems so fun :)
—
Oh boy, let’s talk about them…
Hello there, XF. I will also be trying my best to use all of his pronouns! (Those being he/she/they). I am so happy to have yet another gender-non-conforming character in the general DRDT universe, and it is amazing to see such a wide array of diversity and representation in this cast, as well as the cast of the current killing game. Genuinely, I am just… blown away.
She is also the character which we have the strongest connection to the current killing game/a character from the current killing game, that being Min. Min mentions in her bonus episode that an organization called XF-Ture Tech were the ones to sponsor her for the test to become the Ultimate Student. On XF’s coat is an XF-Ture Logo. As well as this, they have the exact same tie clip that Min has.
PLUS, on top of this, he has the same purple/pink eyes that Min has. That last detail almost made me think they were related, but I don’t necessarily believe so. I mean, they might be, but I’m more inclined to believe that XF is just affiliated with/the leader of XF-Ture. There are A LOT of theories for her (along with a lot of simping ahem), but I won’t be mentioning all of them.
If they are the founder of XF-Ture Tech, I imagine their talent would be something like Ultimate Founder, Ultimate Inventor, Ultimate CEO, or something in that vein. He may not be the founder, however, and instead may just work for XF-Ture Tech. I’m not entirely sure, but I am inclined to believe that she is the founder because of the pink eyes. I have a theory that Min actually wears contacts, and that’s why her eyes look the same as XF’s. I may be totally wrong about this, and I thought that DRDTDev already said they weren’t, but I looked through the QnAs and I couldn’t find anything saying that. Unless it is confirmed somewhere, or it gets confirmed, that’s my theory for now!
As well as this, in the chapter 2 part 1 QnA, DRDTDev mentions that Min’s least favorite color(s) are pink and white together, because it’s “annoying”. Since that is a part of XF’s color palette, that draws an obvious connection between the two of them. If Min has had a lot of interaction with XF, and perceives them as annoying, this could be the reason for that connection. It definitely furthers the theory that Min and XF are connected. I’m pretty sure I barely scratched the surface in terms of what has been theorized about them, so I recommend you check out @accirax @googledetective and the posts they made, as well as any of the posts that are bound to be made by the rest of the DRDT theorists.
—
Him!!!!!!!
For all of you who don’t know, this character uses he/him pronouns and I absolutely love him for that :,) I am truly just… flabbergasted at how amazing DRDTDev continues to be in adding representation to their stories, and not only that, but doing such a good job of it.
Anyways! I will be calling him Dandelion after the dandelion in his hair.
As far as what we can deduce based on his outfit and demeanor: obviously this is a character who messes around with gender presentation (we stan) and doesn’t fall into the rigid categories that many cultures try to enforce. He also looks somewhat naive, and young (though all of these characters are ~18, of course). I also definitely don’t think his talent is something physically demanding, since he seems pretty skinny, and his clothes don’t look like they would be good for running around in.
However, this character has a few things that might key us in to what his talent might be. The first of which is his clothing, since my first thought on seeing it was that it looked trendy, or like something an influencer would wear. In a way that kind of juxtaposes their outfit, however, he has a dandelion in his hair, through the band keeping it up. It is very different from the rest of his color palette, and dandelions are usually considered ‘weeds’, which makes me think that Dandelion’s talent is instead something plant-based.
Since that dandelion is just so different from the rest of his outfit, I believe the latter is true, and that his talent is something like the Ultimate Botanist.
In terms of characters he might be connected to, my first thought was Levi. They both are fashionable, and if my previous thought of Bunny being an influencer or something of the like, it makes sense for Levi to know them somehow. Still, it’s a shaky theory.
—
I love asymmetrical designs, and the green/blue hair strand balances out his hair really well. I do also really like the strap on his leg, it gives him a slightly edgier look. I will be calling him “Scale” for convenience (I had names for each of these characters before someone came up with better ones, but @pastelclownkitty and I actually had the same idea for this guy!).
So, firsts things first: I do not think he is Elliot Cuevas. I saw this theory, considered it, and have come to the conclusion it doesn’t make sense (at least to me. if this is one of your theories that’s totally fine!). Elliot is described, by DRDTDev in the chapter 2 part 1 QnA, as having looked “shockingly similar” to how Charles looks now. I think the comparison is vague at best, not shocking. They do both have purple hair and dark skin, but both shades of those things are darker for Scale.
In terms of talent, the pattern of his shirt has been pointed out, and I agree that it probably relates to his talent. In fact, Scale somewhat reminds me of an anglerfish, with that bright green in his eyes and that strand of hair. I don’t know, I think I’m just saying things at this point.
Due to the mentioned factors above, I believe his talent is related to fishing or swimming, something like the Ultimate Angler. I can’t discern his build from under his clothing, but he looks a little skinny to be the Ultimate Swimming Pro or anything like that.
Ok. I’m sorry, but he looks a little… Fishy (don’t mind the pun). Maybe it’s how calm he is, or his mouth, but he reminds me of Rantaro somewhat. I love his design, though, and I think his color palette is supremely cool. I also like how his hair highlight is very faintly rainbow. It reminds me of how when you look at water a certain way, it shows a rainbow.
—
Our protag!! Or, well, Teacher.
Now, I’m pretty sure almost everyone agrees that this character is the Ultimate Teacher, or something of the like. He also has an ID card which says:
This ID card is the property of Hope’s Peak Academy. Use of this ID card by any person other than the rightful holder is prohibited. Report lost or stolen ID cards by contacted 555-483-7367.
(Thank you to @weightedblankettt for the blurry text translation!)
Now, numbers starting with 555 are used for fictional phone numbers, specifically in North America, which is how we’re able to tell that this killing game’s participants probably come from the same Hope’s Peak that the participants of the current killing game are from. Other than that, it doesn’t really tell us much, other than our Protag has an ID card for Hope’s Peak. This leads us to believe that he may be staff, however DRDTDev confirms that these are 11 students.
One thing, though, that I think may be something…
What if Teacher is, instead of just a student, a student teacher? Basically, what if he is someone who comes in to help the actual teachers with the class load and such, but isn’t a classmate of the rest of the Ultimates. Either that, or he’s just a student who carries around his ID card from a lanyard. Like a weirdo (/j).
Now: The Mai thing. Many people think that Teacher may be a relative of Mai, or connected to her in some way, due to the red in his hair, on his shoes, and on the inside of his coat. However, the red used with his colors is very different from Mai’s red. Another theory to why he might be related to Mai is because his eyes are always closed in all the art we’ve seen of him, so maybe he’s related to one of the cast and DRDTDev is keeping his eyes closed to not spoil who. I do believe this part, just not with Mai.
Okay well, here my theory goes:
Teacher is the older brother of Teruko. Teruko mentions in chapter 1 episode 4 that she has an older brother, but they were separated when she was 5. She likely doesn’t remember much about him at all (and I suspect that he was the one who Teruko says she “couldn’t remember the face” of as well). Although they don’t have the same hair color, they do have a very similar skin color, and the closed-eye thing could be just as true with Teruko as with Mai. As well as this, most characters in all of DRDT have a gradient on their eyelashes. 3 characters who don’t? Mai, Teruko, and now Teacher.
Imma be honest, it’s a bit of a crack theory, but I kinda like it, and think it’s interesting. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the only one to believe this haha
Oh wait! I almost forgot! The whole thing on him being the “Teacher” referenced in secret text. I don’t have much to say on that except that yeah, that’s probably true. Maybe. Who knows.
—
Sigh, I love men.
I’ll be calling this dude Mint, which I know is separate from the names that @xmicrophonyx came up with, but… I think it’s cute, so. First off, his design is great, yada yada, and I love his little cropped jacket. Very cute.
I definitely think his design is pretty sporty, especially with the layers of the undershirt, over shirt, and jacket, along with the coat around his waist. My first thought for him is that he does some kind of racing, either with cars or motorcycles, because that’s what his jacket reminds me of. Race car drivers do wear gloves, so this would make sense for that. I imagine this isn’t his actual racing clothes, instead just casual clothes, but there are still elements of his racing clothes in there. Along with this, it makes sense that he’d have his hair tied back so then he could fit it under his helmet and it wouldn’t get in his face too much (although I suspect his ponytail is too high to fit under a helmet. Oh well, he might wear it lower on race days).
His personality seems like it would fit that sort of thing as well, since he looks serious and somewhat aggressive. He also has those little marks under his eyes. I’m not entirely sure what they’re for, but I’m sure I could connect it back somehow if I wasn’t working on this post for like 3 hours and had any energy whatsoever to do research into it (I just got home from a very long car ride, so keep in mind I am still somewhat delirious). Idk. Maybe he just wanted to look pretty/intimidating/whatever so he put markings under his eyes.
—
A Child?!? Well, no, probably not, but she does look very, very young. Perhaps it’s the fact she’s right next to Teacher, who I’m pretty sure is the tallest out of the cast? Maybe it’s also the fact that the color that dominates her design is pink, and her complimentary color is baby blue.
So, her design is pretty clearly inspired by sheep/rams, since her pupil is the same shape as them, her braids are coiled up similarly to ram horns, and the bottom of her coat/dress looks like sheep wool. The bell on her bow also looks like the pupil of a sheep, too. I actually had a phase of drawing people with that type of pupil, too, because I thought it looked so interesting and unique. I still think characters with those kind of eyes are pretty cool.
Since her design looks so much like a sheep/ram, you would think that was involved in her talent, however in her eye you can see a little needle. That makes me think she’s a tailor or seamstress or something like that. Perhaps, since wool is a big material used for fabric, she cares for sheep and then makes fabric out of their wool, or something in that vein.
She seems pretty peppy and happy, so I assume she would take on an Eden-esque role in this killing game (Though, I assume, she is actually far different, and likely more naive than Eden is).
—
Our girl Fire! She is hot, amiright? (Cue the applause). I don’t know what came over me, with that pun. Maybe the spirit of Whit or something.
But no, seriously, she is certainly a… very attractive woman. The snakebite piercings, eyebrow piercings, nose piercings, and bellybutton piercing? Oh my. A win for the girlkissers. A win indeed.
She certainly gives aggressive energy, like she would fight you (and win, obviously. It wouldn’t even be a competition). She looks like she could take Xander. Also!! I really like her teeth, because one of my teeth stick out like that too. I’m pretty sure it’s the one in the exact same spot as her, just mirrored. I’ve always kind of liked it.
Now, her outfit is definitely very sporty, though I’m unsure of which sport exactly. Her abs and chunky gloves give the vibe of something like a boxer or weightlifter, but she also has chaps on. I’m truly unsure if the chaps are just decorative or if she actually does ride horses (I want to say they’re just decorative because white chaps? Not a good idea. No white clothes are really a good idea when you ride horses a lot. Especially if the horses are unruly lol). Plus, she has a lot of skin exposed, and I can say from experience that flies and bugs are a bitch, and there are a lot when horses are involved.
I also just wanted to point out that Fire and Ice (her brother, who I’ll be talking about next) have eyes that are half brown and half grey, and they each have a color palette of either brown or grey and another color (the extra colors are also complimentary). I personally believe this is because the siblings/twins are very different, and likely don’t get along too well, but that’s just a theory. A DRDT theory. I’m mentally unwell, I think.
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i want to list some seward stories here so people can understand a little better why i like this little fucker. here’s what i call “sewardisms”:
so william henry seward was THE light of the ballroom basically. he was ur one stop to have a good conversation with a cigar and drink in hand. and imagine that while knowing he was a fiery little red head standing at 5’6 who’s slender frame was likened to a scarecrow.
his favorite color was yellow and YOU WILL KNOW it. half of his clothes were yellow. his hanker-chiefs were yellow. He loved himself some stupid yellow.
he married frances seward in 1824 and they were the cutest lovebirds ever. they had five kids and fred seward and his wife became the like Defacto secretaries of seward and his lafayette park house bc he was literally never at home with his wife.
continuing w him and frances he once got into a love triangle (square?) with frances and this older senator who saw him as a young man who could fulfill his dreams. his name was albert tracy haller and this is one of his letters to him:
SO seward replies reciprocating it stating that he was happy learning they shared “feelings which I had become half ashamed for their effeminacy to confess I possessed.” but then haller gets like more continually obsessive and angry when seward doesn’t respond as quickly (he’s just like me fr). so he ruined their relationship as haller and thurlow weed (sewards bff and main political advisor) were ALSO beginning to beef over seward. so seward ended up picking weed over the obsessive haller. BUT ITS NOT OVER!!! because while seward is off working haller gets in with frances and tries to get with her and it starts to work… until seward writes a bunch of letters crying and begging her to not leave him because he was scared she didn’t love him anymore. so they both decided to throw haller out and never speak to him again! Power couple!!!
the first night that abraham lincoln and seward met they had to share a bed together where they chatted throughout the night and then finally fell asleep. in a weird coincidence, and the final days they spent together were in seward’s bed as he whispered stories to seward who was currently in excruciating pain because of his shoulder and broken jaw. whenever seward finally fell asleep (something which he dearly needed) lincoln finally left.
i just absolutely adore the relationship between the two. they started off as aquantiances and grew into rivals during the 1860 election. whenever lincoln won seward was PISSED that such a lowly small town lawyer could win but took the secretary of state job anyways. they slowly grew into friends and then by the end of the first year lincoln was spending basically every waking moment with him. they had the same sense of humor and interests, such as theater which seward was his main guest at each performance. they were basically inseparable as he was the closest to lincoln in the cabinet and they had become bffs. they make me so happy, they didn’t care for looks and most of the time you could find them with ruffled hair and misplaced clothing. seward thought the absolute world of lincoln because of how good of a person he was. like i just can’t understate how much seward loved lincoln and saw him for all of his wisdom. i’ve mentioned this before but at this point seward was seeing lincoln more than lincoln’s own wife so she (being mary todd) was angry and jealous of seward (totally understandable) who lincoln spent his nights with instead of her. this jealousy also leached out into other members of the cabinet such as salmon p chase, edwin stanton, and gideon welles who were angry their president spent more time with seward than the actual cabinet. they thought seward had his ear most of the time and was just the acting president. ppl spread those rumors a lot my favorite insult is when george mcclellan called seward a meddling incompetent puppy. it got to the point where seward was gonna resign bc of it until lincoln stepped in and was like No you’re not leaving.
seward came up with adding thanksgiving as a holiday and lincoln was like “hell yeah”
seward got into a carriage accident and dislocated his shoulder and broke his jaw. so for a few weeks he was bed ridden. during this time was the assassination attempts of both him and lincoln. lincoln died while seward’s face was slashed the hell up but he was otherwise still kicking. no one told him that lincoln had passed but when he saw the american flag hanging half mast one morning he knew. while crying he said that if lincoln was alive he would have already come to see him or ask about him but he knew.
after this was some more big hits as his wife died the same year and so did his daughter. he was literally having the WORST year ever and i feel so bad for him.
yeah there’s definitely more but those are the big bits (which i’m probably fucking up some). he’s so campy. i love the little fucker so so much.
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Skyrim and Civil War
You know, there are ways to make good morally grey conflicts, but Skyrim's Civil War is not one of them. However instead of talking about how undercooked it was (it was), I want to talk about the underlying concept of it. Sometimes just saying "add more content" isn't a reasonable critique when it comes to a product that needs to come out (there are graveyards of games that never stopped developing).
The issue with Skyrim's civil war -
It puts a lot of emphasis on Talos, a god that tbh I don't think needed it and wasn't referenced until the third game. IDK this is more personal but I'd prefer Talos just be a hero-god of Cyrodiil/Skyrim you know? (Oh that guy who conquered you all and forced you into his empire, which some of you are old enough to remember? worship him pls)
It's morally grey, but in the "I hate both of these options way". There historical precedents for a nationalist movement opposing imperialism, and there are precedents for rebellions occurring from princes or nobles who want take power. However the conflict feels more like neoliberal democrat versus libertarian republican, aka I hate em both and the difference is minimal. It's like if someone wanted to do the US civil war but they really thought it was about states' rights. It's like Braveheart but worst.
It's both the impetus for the plot (the dragonborn prophecy) and shows up in the main quest, but ONLY if you don't interact with it (too much). And there's incentive not to, as it provides a cool quest that is optional and you can remove a jarl or two you don't like depending on how it goes. Otherwise you can really ignore it, and you're standing with any guild or city isn't really referenced except when the new Jarl takes over.
It's an excuse for chuds to make stormcloak memes after they're done making Morrowind slavery memes.
OK i know what I said about content but yeah the gameplay aspect isn't great with one or two exceptions (the siege of Whiterun and Solitude/Windhelm). The lack of say and options as a nation's folk hero truly shines here. It's like if during the US civil war Jesus showed up, killed the devil and then everyone said "thank you but we need you to blackmail a secretary".
You could make it work. There's a phrase the comes up in the game, Season Unending, which the nords used to mean war. You could put an anti-war theme or something regarding the cyclical nature of violence, even if people didn't agree it would be saying something. Personally, I'd use the 30 years war as inspiration - a religious and political conflict about an empire with multiple actors, all of which causing mayhem to the countryside.
Here are my solutions which don't involve any additional content, but instead changes/removal.
The Civil War ended at the beginning of the game. You see Ulfric die, his forces are scattered and the jarls with him are left picking up the pieces, but the Empire doesn't have the funds to restore control nor pay its soldiers. This helps explains why forts are ruined and the high number of bandits - they are soldiers/deserters looking for a payday. It also creates a narrative of trying to see who Ulfric Stormcloak was using unreliable narrators and maybe a bit of tragedy for a guy who thought he was The Guy (but in fact You're The Guy).
The Civil War ended years ago. Same as above, but make it more tamed. This would be the closest to just removing it entirely.
Make it a rebellion and have the player be a part of it. It would be so interesting a contrast to be against the empire after four games directly or indirectly aiding it. Now you could either try to do something thoughtful about revolutions and violence and the character of that rebel army, or you could just do Braveheart, but either way people would probably be more invested in it.
Don't let us join either side. The Empire's rulers claim the title dragonborn, and having some shmuck say he is would not be in their interest. Ulfric claims tradition and his power of the voice, not saying but implying a connection to Talos, and so he would not want you as a threat to his power. Have both groups be awful, and hammer home how these nobles might all claim to be different, but they slaughter the peasants all the same.
These aren't perfect solutions, and tbh the quality and quantity of the writers on board a project are going to impact any idea. But still, I think I'd prefer these options than what we got in game.
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20 Fic Writer Quesions
First, thank you @singeart and @mytardisisparked for tagging me!. I did a set of these last year and it was fun to see how my answers have changed since then!
How many works do you have on Ao3?
61
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?
1.6 million and counting!
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Star Trek Voyager
Star Trek Prodigy
Sailor Moon
Harry Potter
Madam Secretary
Ive debated writing SwanQueen for a long time but by the time I had the energy and time to write, I'd lost interest in the show. I might rewatch and come back to it one day...
I have thought about writing Wynonna Earp or Tamora Pierce universe fanfiction but have yet to get an idea that grabs me. I like to find things i want to fix and it's hard when the source material is perfection.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
The Parent Trap (305)
Sailor Moon H Order of the Phoenix (289)
Sailor Moon H Half Blood Prince (222)
Eden's Deception (167)
Out of Reach (150)
5. Do you respond to comments?
I try to! although if I'm busy or feeling down it can take me a while. Sometimes I forget.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I still think What Even is 3 Minutes takes the cake. Or I'll be Your First if You'll be my Last
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I Heard the Comm on Christmas Morn and Parent Trap
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Unfortunately I've gotten hate on fics since I started writing them... and it's become just something I expect to happen. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes it confuses me. Sometimes it makes me sad. It really depends...
The memorable haters:
There was the delightful Fanfiction.net reviewer who got pissed i was "making everybody gay" (that was funny actually). I forget if they were the same person who flamed me when Mcgonagall and Hooch kissed under some mistletoe. I digress. They thought queering up the canon was like sinful or whatever. I was delighted to disagree and make the story even queerer.
Another person cussed me out for magically restraining Sailor Plutos time travel powers so my plot would work and for making her have feelings about it. aparently mad the senshi were not all powerful deus exmachinas who never feel feelings... That one stung. That was the reason I left FFN.
Hate because in Sailor Moon H, Harry Potter was not the main character.
Hate that I made a magic bio baby for the magical lesbians. (I can't have a biobaby with my wife irl, can't I at least let the fantasy girlies have one!)
Hate for including C/7 in a story
...I wouldn't call it hate for the fic but I have had an uncomfortable amount of commenters who hate on Chakotay any time I have him involved with Seven / don't have him grovel to Kathryn / really any time I let him advocate for how he's been hurt... at first comments like this stressed me out because i worried i had not written the character sufficiently sympathetic. But then Parent Trap breached containment and I got enough comments to be able to see I had definitely written the character fine... it was just that some people were always just rooting for a "Chakotay falls over himself to apologize to Janeway for not immediately dating her" storyline that... I'm not sorry 😅 I'm never going to write that. The older I get the more I feel like both of J/C just need therapy! They've been through so much trauma. Their feelings are valid (yes, even for other people).
Parent Trap breaching containment also meant that when I hit an irl rut and couldnt get in the writing headspace for a bit, a bunch of - sincerely, well meaning - fans got into their heads to start a commenting campaign to get me to update. I heard about it and panicked (i had bad experiences that year of getting people who only commented "update soon" and those conversely stressed me out and made me not want to write - I love fic writing for the conversations and community... so it made me feel like readers thought i was just a content vending machine). so just the thought of potentially getting an avalanche of guests, well meaning or not, begging me to update made me lock commenting until the fic was done. I wound up deciding after that that since "update soon" requests were becoming a lot more frequent that I'd consider before posting whether getting them would hurt my ability to finish. So most of the time now if I know a fic is going to reach a bigger potential community, I don't start posting it until it's almost done. That has had some upsides! (Im less dependent on positive feedback for motivation now!) and some downsides (no one comments on my fics with their theories anymore) but on a whole, a good decision.
Immediately after finishing Parent Trap I wrote Fever and got this amazing guest comment from someone who said (paraphrasing cuz i'm too busy to go find it) "Youre better than this. how dare you write this filth. J/C are better than this" that one had me laughing for days. But the comment did prompt me to create a second account later when I wrote a tentacle fic. At the time I worried i'd get a ton of similar flame comments from people who were subscribed to my main for other types of fic... but I am even feeling like that's unnecessary now. I write what I write! Yes, some of it is really dirty, weird smut. I'm not sorry.
Currently any time I post a Threshold AU fic an anon drops into my comments section in order to call me "Sick" and "Deranged"... they make me so sad I don't even make a quippy reply. I just delete them. I write that universe for my own wish fulfillment... Someday (soon, hopefully) I'm gonna have kids. And I am going to have to have conversations with them about who their biological dad is. Why they look like one mom and not the other, whether their non bio family love them even if theyre not blood related. I might have a kid who feels different from everyone else because they're queer or they're neurodivergent or they're some new alienating feeling I am totally unprepared for. and I'll need to help them navigate that.. Writing about hybrid salamander kids getting raised in a blended family is FUN. But more importantly... it helps me practice those situations. It comforts me to know that if the characters can figure this out in the AU then I can figure this out in real life! What the hell is sick and deranged about that!?
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I write all sorts of smut. I post the stuff that doesn't totally mortify me once i've gotten out of whatever mood had me writing the smut in the first place.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I have exactly two crossovers to my name: Sailor Delta and Sailor Moon H. I think on the basis of word count alone Sailor Moon H (>500,000) is definitely the craziest.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I consider the unlicensed use of the AO3 archive for ChatGPT and similar LLMs theft. (and there are several court cases pending that are also seeking to address whether it is legally theft as it pertains to published fiction and newspapers). The canon creators of the fandoms I write for aren't allowed to make money by using uncredited ideas pulled from my fanfiction (just like I am not allowed to make money from writing fic with their copyrighted settings and characters) and i continue to be apalled that ChatGPT and other LLMs think they can get away with using others copyrighted ideas without permission. Especially that they can take advantage of people who cant profit off their own work.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No but i would be open to it!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! Once with @magdalenejaneway, once with @jellybeansarecool and once with @trekflower and all three were fantastic!
Most of what I write for Threshold AU is also increasingly collaborated on a great deal by the AU creators and a few other folks. It's been going for over 2 years now and doing that more and more has enabled us all to drop more references to previous fics and to create a more cohesive body of fic for the AU. in general its just been so fun and fulfilling to make these stories with other people who are as invested in the characters as me and it just fills me with joy. I'm really grateful for you guys.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
On the one hand J/C have inspired over 50 fics, But on the other I have also been loving Sailor Moon and those ships since before I knew what fandom or shipping were. And really the only reason J/C inspire more fic is that all the sailor moon characters got a happy ending.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I never want to give up on a WIP...
but I am in knots about what all to do with Out of Reach.
Out of Reach is a St:Prodigy S1 AU where Chakotay has amnesia and doesn't remember anything from his time on Voyager, all the while he and Kathryn are in a situationship with a baby.
There's two questions I never figured out how to answer: 1. Does he get his memories back. If so, how much and what enables it. and 2: Do he and Kathryn stay together?
On the memories front. saying he never recovers seems unfair to the character. But saying he magically does thanks to 24th century science feels cheap and disrespectful - to the reality of real memory loss and to the plot that built up so much tension around this. Saying he gets back some or more over time is more realistic, but left me uncertain of where exactly to end the story. Tying his retrieval of memories to Kathryn also tied me up in knots. On the one hand they're in love and thats romantic. on the other hand the optics of his recovery totally dependent on one person is icky.
I also found the baby really annoying to have there by the end - I still think he's cuteeee i really do!!! - it's just... he makes the "we should stay together and try to figure this out" answer a bit too convenient 😅. and he complicates Kathryns reluctance to restart their relationship. The more she resists, the more callous she seems (deliberately not trying to patch things up with her kid's father) when i really just want to focus on her fears that Chakotay would be happier without her and that even if they restart their romance, she might lose him again on a future mission. It's ironic because i originally created the baby to ensure she wouldnt just run away from her fears. And now hes contributing to my difficulty ending the fic...
Actually the more I think on it, my real problem is I could write my way out of this, but I cant do it in only one or two chapters and that makes me feel tired. i was sorta hoping to wrap that fic up. 😅🙈
16. What are your writing strengths?
Imagery has always been a strength for me. But i think I'm also getting really good at action scenes too.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Oneshots.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Only if it was information i wanted the reader to understand but not the POV character.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
W.I.T.C.H way back when I was 15.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Universe to Mend - I even have a few sequel or companion novel ideas to come after it.
This has gone on a while... 😅 - thank you for tagging me and letting me ramble! i'll tag anyone else who wants to answer! have at it.
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What If We Could? | Part One [ AO3 ]
18+ Mature Content
Characters | Lilith "Nightbird" Nightingale (oc), Sam "Zero" Fisher, Harry "Six" Pandey, Gustave "Doc" Kateb
Summary | Lilith returns to Rainbow and meets Sam Fisher, immediatly catching his eye while he catches hers.
Music | I Can't Take It Anymore - Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, Exploited & Exposed - Symbion Project
Warnings | brief sex scene, fingering, biting, unprotected sex, slight Dom/sub dynamic, collaring
Word Count | 5368
Author's Note | Part one of a major rewrite and no longer in first person
[ Timeline/Chapter List ] [ Part 2 ]
“So you must be Nightbird.” A man’s voice came from behind Lilith. She turned slowly and stared at him.
“And you must be Zero,” she replied as she looked him over. He was tall, his hair and beard both dark grey. His green eyes stared back at her intently. Sam Fisher. She recognized him from his on file photo. He was much more handsome in person.
“Harry says you’ll be joining us for training tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” she said with a smile.
“I’m pretty certain if you want to be a part of this organization and be allowed back on missions again, you don’t have a choice.” Lilith rolled her eyes as Sam spoke.
“Make me,” she said as Sam’s eyes moved over her slowly. He tilted his head slightly to the side before taking a step closer to her.
“Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe,” she replied with a mischievous grin before turning and walking away from him down the hall. Reaching the corner she turned back towards him, giving him one last smile. He shook his head before turning to leave in the opposite direction. As Lilith turned around continuing towards the exit she couldn’t help but bite her lip at the thought of him.
Coming back to Rainbow had not been a part of Lilith’s plans but life she found had a way of not caring about the plans one made. And coming back had not quite been the homecoming she had expected. She had been gone almost three years and in that time a lot had changed within Rainbow. Aurelia Arnot, once in charge, had taken the job as US Secretary of State. Harishva Pandey, once the psychological advisor to Arnot, was now in charge as the new Six. Although he refused to let anyone call him by that codename and insisted everyone still call him Harry. He had renovated an abandoned stadium in Greece turning it into a new main base and training facility. And Sam Fisher had joined Rainbow as an instructor under the codename Zero.
After recovering from the bullet wound that was responsible for her return, she learned that the reason no one had come looking for her was that she had been listed as killed in action despite her body never being recovered. Officially Lilith had come back from the dead. Something she was reminded of constantly by the whispers and stares some of the other operators gave her and by the guilty look on Harry’s face whenever he saw her. Then there was the way Sam looked at her that she couldn’t explain.
-
The first time Sam saw Lilith she was being transferred from the transport to the infirmary for a near fatal gunshot wound. He had gone with Harry after they received word of a severely wounded operator even though none of them were away on any mission that he knew of. It had been an off the books meeting with an ex-Rainbow operator gone wrong. When Harry was told the name of the operator his eyes had widened in shock and he immediately went to meet them when their transport arrived. Sam had asked Harry what was wrong but all Harry would say was that it was impossible as they watched the medics move her to a gurney.
She had very pale skin made even paler by blood loss. Her dark makeup and black lipstick were smeared from whatever fight she had been in that resulted in her being shot. There were scars on her face, mostly on the left side. A couple of them were severe enough that he wondered what she had lived through to receive them. And her hair was a silvery grey that reminded him of moonlight. Sam didn’t know who she was then but what he did know was that she was beautiful.
It had been a while since he thought that way of anyone. At his age it wasn’t a luxury he wasted time on. But with her it was on his mind every time he thought of her, and every time he saw her.
When Lilith had recovered enough she was allowed to train with the others. She was damn good at her roles during mock missions and had an almost unnatural ability to hit every target she took aim at. Her stealth skills were just as impressive with her being able to sneak up on opponents and take them down before they realized what was happening.
Despite her combat prowess Harry held her back from active duty citing concerns over her mental health after being rogue for so long. Sam didn’t blame him. As a solo operator she was in his opinion amazing. Working as part of a team however, seemed to be a struggle for her. Aside from Gustave Kateb, a GIGN officer who had been with Rainbow since it was reformed in 2015, she didn’t appear to have any social relationships with the other operators.
It was clear to Sam that Lilith had trouble trusting others. There were also times he could see that she was holding back some kind of unresolved trauma. But she refused to talk to Harry or anybody else about it. And that was just the start of her defiance.
Sam wasn’t sure if he should be frustrated or impressed with just how defiant she was. For three years she had been a lone wolf and now she had to readjust to being part of a team again, and to following command. He could see she did not like taking orders from anyone, especially from him. She was insubordinate and mouthed off enough that the friction between them was more than visible to everyone. Still his fascination with her remained.
Lilith’s skin really was unnaturally pale which only set off the dark makeup and lipstick she always wore. She only ever wore black making him wonder if she even owned anything that wasn’t. And despite the impracticality, she always wore a choker of some kind and gauges in her ears. The grunge goth way she dressed and her makeup was not something he’d ever consider liking, but on her he did. Even her half shaved haircut was growing on him.
Sam found himself starting to single her out with his frustration. He’d look for any reason to pull her aside after practice. Any excuse to talk with her and to be near her.
-
“Sam, have you been listening to me?” He looked up at Harry. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”
“Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” Sam ran a hand through his grey hair with a sigh.
“I can see that. Well don’t worry, it can wait until later.” Sam nodded as they walked into the cafeteria. While Harry immediately went to get food, Sam briefly scanned the cafeteria. When he didn’t see Lilith he shook his head, silently chastising himself.
Not really hungry, he decided to make a cup of coffee. As he returned the pot to the warmer he didn’t pay attention to who had walked up next to him. “Excuse me,” she said quietly as she reached across to grab the pot of coffee. Sam looked up at Lilith as she poured herself a cup then returned the pot to the warmer. Her silver hair had fallen in front of her face making her reach up and move it behind her ear. When she glanced up at him and made eye contact he quickly looked back down at his mug. He reached for the packets of sugar at the same time she did, their hands landing right next to each other, barely touching.
For a moment neither of them moved, both avoiding even glancing at each other. Without thinking Sam moved his pinky finger gently against hers, caressing it ever so slightly. Lilith glanced up at him as her finger slowly caressed his in return. He stared at her briefly before taking a few sugars and his mug then turned to leave.
She watched as he walked away, her stomach in knots and her hand still sitting on the sugar packets. After a moment she came back to her senses and took a few packets before returning to the table she had been sitting at.
“You okay?” She looked up at Gustave when he spoke and nodded.
“Yeah, fine,” she replied quietly. Gustave raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. Taking a sip of coffee she tried to make sense in her mind what just happened. She remained quiet for the rest of dinner, lost in thought and unable to stop thinking about it. Or him.
-
Days later the incident was still on Lilith’s mind. It had reached a point of being a distraction in everything she did. Her performance during training was starting to suffer as Sam became more and more of a distraction.
Today had been no exception. With a sigh she closed her locker and began making her way towards the exit only to be stopped by Sam. “Nightbird.” She turned to face him.
“Zero.”
“You were sloppy today,” he said as he walked over to her. When he was standing in front of her he crossed his arms. As he did her gaze lingered on his hands, the memory of his finger caressing hers still burned in her mind. She looked up to meet his gaze.
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not,” she replied with the slightest smile.
“You need to work on being a part of a team.” She rolled her eyes at him. He took a step closer to her. “Your attitude could use some work as well.”
“If you say so.” She then turned and headed towards the exit.
“Stay out of trouble.”
When she reached the door, she looked back over her shoulder at him and asked, “Or else what?” He shook his head as she opened the door and left.
-
The moon was full and the air cold as Lilith snuck out onto the roof of the dormitory building. She hopped up and sat on what she assumed was some kind of HVAC unit. Taking a few deep breaths she looked up at the stars with a sigh.
Rough would be an understatement to describe the past week. She had been more insubordinate than usual and mouthed off enough to become the target of Sam’s frustration. More than once he had cornered her in the locker room after practice to tell her off.
Not that Lilith had anyone else to blame but herself. Her behavior was mostly on purpose. Since that day when her and Sam’s fingers touched while getting coffee she wanted to be closer to him. He was on her mind constantly. The thought of his touch and the fantasy of his hands on her were driving her insane.
Shaking her head she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her lighter and a joint. Putting the joint in her mouth, she flicked the lighter until a flame appeared. “I’m pretty certain that’s against a couple regulations.” Startled by Sam’s voice she dropped the lighter.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself after taking the joint out of her mouth and pocketing it. She looked over to see Sam standing nearby. “Smoking isn’t a crime.”
“I’m not blind,” he replied as he walked over. “I could see that wasn’t a cigarette.” Inhaling deeply he added, “And that faint smell is pretty distinct.”
“Gonna rat me out Zero?” she asked as she got off the HVAC unit. Sam was now standing in front of her.
“Would it really make a difference?” He knelt down and picked up her lighter. Lilith held out her hand for him to give it back, but he didn’t. Instead he shook his head and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Smoking isn’t very becoming of you, Nightbird.” She rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
“Your behavior lately isn’t exactly becoming of you either.” As Sam spoke she crossed her arms.
“I don’t care,” she muttered even though in her gut she knew he was right. He stepped closer to her.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said quietly. “Whatever you’re dealing with, you don’t have to deal with it alone.” He then reached a hand up to her face and delicately traced a finger along her scars. Her lips parted as she inhaled in surprise. Making eye contact with him, her arms fell to her sides.
“What would you know? You deal with everything alone.” Sam leaned back slightly, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
“I know you’re not talking to Harry even though he’s asked you to more than once.” Lilith’s gaze dropped. Of course he would know about that. “I know more than you give me credit for.” His fingers moved from her cheek to trace along her jaw. Once under her chin they stopped and he leaned forward. “Don’t think you know everything about me just because you hacked into my laptop,” he whispered in her ear. She swallowed hard, her gaze moving to look at him as he leaned back.
Lilith had to her knowledge only been caught once before and only because she hadn’t realized she had chosen a high security target. The incident is what got her the attention of Rainbow when the organization was being reformed, but she knew the consequences could have been much worse. So she knew if Harry had known about her hacking into Sam’s laptop he would not have taken that lightly.
“You didn’t tell Harry,” she stated. He shook his head.
“Didn’t see any reason too.”
“I can’t promise I won’t do it again,” she said with a small smile.
“I can’t promise I won’t report you next time.” His hand moved to trace her scars again sending a slight shiver down her spine.
“Who says you’ll catch me again?”
“Who says I haven’t been monitoring you since I first noticed?” Lilith sighed realizing she hadn’t thought of the possibility that hacking was among his skill set as well. She silently kicked herself for not noticing his intrusion. “Don’t worry I haven’t accessed your webcam.” A playful grin formed on her lips.
“If you want to see more of me all you have to do is ask.” She took a step closer to him.
“You and I both know that’s a bad idea.” Sam’s hand moved from her cheek down to the side of her neck.
“Maybe,” she whispered. “But I’ve never let that stop me before.”
“You’re trouble, you know that?” Lilith smiled.
“What are you gonna do, punish me?” Sam chuckled at her remark.
“That’s not a bad idea.” He sighed softly as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. His gaze moved to the choker wrapped around it. It was black and much like a pet collar with the same width of a cat collar and on each side of the clasp were rings. He had an idea of what they were for. As he ran his thumb along its edge he quietly muttered, “If you were mine I might.”
“I could be,” she whispered taking another step closer to him. Sam stared at her silently for a moment before she quietly added, “Sir.” He exhaled hard.
“And what makes you think I’ve earned that?” he replied quietly.
“What makes you think you haven’t?” Lilith took another step closer to him leaving almost no space between them.
“I still think this is a bad idea.”
“Those are usually the best kind.” He looked conflicted as he shook his head, taking a step back.
“We should, uh, head in.”
“Night’s still early.”
“You really are trouble.” She smiled at him in response. They stayed like that for a moment, both staring at each other. Sam eventually broke the silence and asked, “I’ll see you for training tomorrow?” Lilith nodded slowly. “Try not to misbehave.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she called after him as he turned and began walking towards the roof exit. He shook his head slowly and she smiled to herself before softly biting her lip.
After a moment Lilith headed back inside and to her room. Once inside she wasted no time undressing and getting a shower before getting dressed for bed. As she lay in bed she sighed and stared at the ceiling. Slowly she traced a finger along one of the scars on her cheek the way Sam had done. She hated the scars on her face but the way Sam had traced them was like they weren’t something ugly. Like she wasn’t ugly.
-
After Sam locked his door he leaned back against it. His mind was conflicted over what he almost let happen. Lilith was one of the operators he was an instructor to. On top of that she was half his age and younger than his own daughter. None of that could change the attraction he felt towards her.
Pushing himself off the door Sam removed his jacket, dropping it on the chair by the desk. After removing his boots, he laid down on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had been unable to stop thinking about her since they met but he hadn’t planned on ever doing anything about it. Despite that he’d gone along with her flirtation and was tempted to go further than that.
“Fuck,” he muttered with a loud sigh. Standing up he resigned himself to getting a shower. As he stood under the cold water he tried to stop thinking about her but couldn’t. He tried to tell himself he wouldn’t let it happen again but after earlier he knew he couldn’t trust his own resolve.
When Sam woke the next morning Lilith was the first thought he had. He reminded himself that the night before meant nothing and that it wouldn’t happen again. After getting ready for the day, he grabbed his jacket and phone. Putting on the jacket he noticed a weight in one of its pockets. Reaching in, he found a lighter with a songbird design on it. He had already forgotten about taking it from Lilith. Shaking his head with a small smile Sam placed the lighter on the desk. Turning for the door he couldn’t help but think of her again.
-
Training went the same as it did every day. The team training did their best and Sam called them out on every tiny mistake. Lilith tried to do better than she had in recent days but found herself distracted. Sam’s gaze lingered on her constantly making her self conscious of every move she made.
When they were done for the day and heading back to the locker room her eyes met Sam’s and she momentarily lost her footing.
“Fuck,” she muttered to herself after falling flat on her face. Gustave stopped and held out a hand to help her up.
“You okay?” he asked. She nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lilith avoided looking in Sam’s direction as the headed into the locker room with the others.
She waited until almost everyone else had left before getting her shower. As she rinsed off she couldn’t help but hope that Sam would also be gone by the time she finished. As she got dressed her stomach was in knots over the thought of seeing him alone.
With a sigh Lilith quietly went back into the locker room to grab her bag and leave. She closed her locker only to see Sam leaning against the one next to hers. “You took quite a tumble today,” he said looking her over, his eyes lingering on her chest. She could feel her cheeks flush slightly at the realization the low cut tank she was wearing showed more cleavage than she normally let show.
“I have a lot on my mind,” she replied.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” She hooked the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
“You sure?” he asked quietly. As she stared at him without replying he reached out to trace the scars on her cheek. She inhaled slowly as his fingers continued moving down her cheek before moving to her neck. They then moved to trace the edge of her choker. “You did well today. Shame you aren’t allowed to go on missions yet.”
“You know why.” His hand reached back up to gently trace the scars on her cheek again. She inhaled deeply.
“And you know how to change that.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone.” Sam stared at her silently. “I should go,” she added quietly, not wanting to argue about having to talk to Harry. He nodded, his hand slowly, almost hesitantly pulling back. Lilith stared at him a moment wanting to say more but didn’t. With a forced smile she turned and quickly headed towards the exit.
-
Lilith stared up at the night sky as she laid on one of the HVAC units on the roof of the dormitories. It had been a few days since that night Sam had followed her to the roof, since he became a distraction. And since then she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.
After taking a long drag from a joint she exhaled slowly. She watched the smoke as it rose into the night sky before dissipating in the breeze. The night air was cold but she didn’t care. She loathed the cage like feeling the base always gave her. And the open roof was one of the few sources of relief she could find.
As she took another long drag she heard footsteps approaching. “I know it’s you,” she said, exhaling smoke with a smile as she spoke. Before she could take another drag Sam plucked the joint from her fingers and tossed it over the edge of the roof. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that.” She sat up and frowned at him.
“You are now,” he replied as he stood in front of her.
“And you are a killjoy. Is that why they call you Zero? Because you’re zero fun?” Sam chuckled.
“Clever but no.” His gaze briefly fell to her neck.
“So what do you want?” He shrugged.
“Thought I’d check on you.”
“Well, you checked on me.” Lilith replied quietly as she stood up. He stared at her quietly as if unsure what to say.
After a moment he said, “About the other night-”
“Don’t.” Lilith shook her head before turning and quickly walking away from him.
-
As Lilith stood under the hot water of the locker room shower the next day she sighed heavily. Today unlike the ones before Sam had avoided her. During practice he barely even looked in her direction. She tried to not make anything of it. He was just her instructor.
Thinking about him again had her biting her lip as she turned off the water. After drying off and getting dressed she headed back out. She was surprised to see Sam leaning against her locker, his arms crossed. “Zero,” she said as she walked up to him.
“Nightbird,” he replied, his eyes wandering over her from head to toe. “You’ve been improving.”
“That won’t change Harry’s mind,” she replied quietly. Looking him in the eyes she added, “You’re in my way.”
“I know.” He didn’t move. “You didn’t let me finish last night.”
“I’m not going to accept an apology when you didn’t do anything wrong.” Sam moved off her locker and took a step closer to her.
“Who said I was going to apologize for anything?”
“What else would you have to say about it?” Sam remained quiet. He looked as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t. Lilith took a step closer to him and said, “Just tell me.” He stared at her silently a moment before shaking his head and walking away. “Sam!” Lilith turned towards him. He stopped and looked at her.
“Have a good night,” he said quietly. “Lilith.” She watched as he walked away then left the locker room. With a defeated sigh she turned back to her locker to get her things.
-
As dinner came Lilith wasn’t feeling very social but she was hungry. When she entered the cafeteria she bumped into Gustave. “Well look who’s making an appearance at dinner.”
“I’m not staying,” Lilith replied as she walked past him to get a slice of toast.
“You need to eat more than that.” She glared at him as she took a bite of the toast. “Come on Lily.”
“I’m calling it an early night, okay?”
“If you give them a chance you’ll see that not everyone is as bad as you think they are.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Lilith replied after grabbing a bottle of water. She gave Gustave a forced smile and walked away from him before he could say more.
As she left the building she debated going to the dorm roof like she always did. She wasn’t the only one who used the roof as an escape. Tonight however she wanted to be alone. She also wanted to avoid running into someone in particular.
Wandering around outside, she finished her toast. With a sigh she came to a stop and looked around. Taking a sip of her water her gaze settled on the stadium. It had been hours since Sam’s last training session and no one would be wandering around the field. Not with all the camera’s set up to observe the training sessions. But that wouldn’t be a problem for her. With a grin Lilith made her way towards the stadium.
She carefully snuck onto the field and into the building in its center, disabling the cameras as she went. On the second floor she reached a room clearly meant to represent a bedroom with a window in the one wall and a bed against another. They had even gone as far as to paint some kind of decoration on the wall above it.
Taking a seat in the window she exhaled loudly. She knew Gustave meant well trying to get her to socialize with the others but she wasn’t ready yet. For the last couple years she had gotten used to be alone. The only exception was the time she spent with the man she was working with at the time who she had also been involved with. She frowned at the thought of him and tried to think about something else.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Lilith looked up from where she was sitting on the window ledge to see Sam standing nearby. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t notice him enter the room.
“And?” she asked as he walked over. Sam shook his head with a small smile.
“No joint tonight, Nightbird?” Lilith shook her head.
“Not at the moment,” she replied. “Gonna rat me out this time, Zero?” He shook his head as he leaned against the nearby wall.
“Don’t see any reason to.” Lilith gave him a soft smile. “So, what’s with the change of scenery?”
“Wanted to be alone where no one would find me.” She leaned back against the frame of the window. “How’d you?”
“Was working late when I noticed the cameras had been disabled.” Lilith nodded slowly.
“I’ll remember that next time.” Again she smiled at him. It was a smile he couldn’t get enough of seeing.
“Next time?” He turned to face her with his own smile. “Giving me forewarning eh?” She moved off the ledge to stand and walked towards him.
“Maybe.” She walked past him. Moving across the room she sat down on the bed on the other side of the room. It wasn’t really a bed just a bed frame with a mattress. But it was enough to make her chuckle. “I still think it’s strange to have an actual bed with a mattress in here.”
“To simulate real life situations the rooms need to be realistic.” Lilith grinned at Sam as he walked over but before she could say anything he added, “I know what you’re thinking.”
“And I know you’re going to tell me it’s a bad idea.”
Sam moved closer to her and said, “And it is.” Lilith stared up at him.
“Then why are you here?” she asked, standing when he was right in front of her.
“Because…” He reached up to trace her scars. “I can’t… don’t want to stay away from you.”
“Then don’t,” Lilith whispered in reply. His fingers moved from her cheek to her neck before fingering the rings on her choker.
“What about this?”
“It’s for-” Before she could finish Sam had reached into his pocket for something then held it up for her to see. It was a small, brass luggage lock. Lilith smiled. “Exactly.” Whispering she added, “It’s yours if you want it.”
“Only if it’s what you want,” he whispered in reply.
Sam had barely finished his sentence before Lilith whispered, “Yes.” He stared at her a moment before carefully hooking the lock through the rings then locking it. As if it was the permission he finally needed his hands moved to her hips pulling her close, his face burying in her neck. He kissed it softly before nipping gently at her skin, just above her collar.
Lilith reached for one of his hands, moving it from her hip to her crotch. She moaned softly when Sam’s fingers began teasing her through her leggings. His lips formed a smile against her neck. Without warning he pushed her down on the bed and crawled over her. Her hands reached up wrapping around him as he once again went for her neck. This time after kissing just above her collar he bit down hard. She moaned loudly, her fingers digging into his jacket.
His hands moved down her sides to the waistband of her leggings. After pulling them down along with her underwear his fingers slid inside her. He leaned close to kiss her neck again as he began fucking her with his fingers, his thumb expertly teasing her clit. She whined softly as he brought her closer and closer to the edge until she was a whimpering mess under him. She moaned his call sign when she came, her hands gripping him tightly.
Barely allowing herself time to recover, Lilith’s hands immediately moved to Sam’s belt and began undoing it. After undoing his pants and pulling them down she pulled him close, moaning as he sank into her with a low, guttural moan.
Lilith moaned loudly as Sam fucked her hard. There was desperation in his movements as if he had been starving for this kind of intimacy. Between moans and grunts they clung to each other forgetting the world around them. When Sam came he moaned loudly before quietly muttering, “Fuck.” Lilith chuckled softly as she pulled him close. He rested his forehead against hers as they recovered.
After a moment Sam pulled out and rolled off of her. In silence they both adjusted themselves to fix their pants. Instead of getting out of bed however, they remained lying next to one another until Sam whispered, “This is a line we can’t uncross.” Lilith looked at him and smiled.
“I know,” she replied her voice still a little breathless. Sam looked at her, a smile playing on the corner of his lips. In the dim light coming in through the windows her hair really did remind him of moonlight. He watched as she turned her head to stare at the ceiling again, his gaze lingering on her scars. A part of him wanted to reach out and trace them again. Instead he sat up and got off the bed.
“It’s getting late,” he said as he turned and watched Lilith do the same. She smiled as she walked around the bed to him.
“It’s still early.” Unable to help himself Sam reached up to trace the scars on her cheek. There was a subtle look of comfort on her face as he did.
“Maybe next time,” he replied quietly. With a sigh he said, “Go on, I’ll reset the cameras.” Lilith gave a slight nod.
“See you tomorrow?” Sam nodded.
“Try to stay out of trouble.” She grinned.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
[ Timeline/Chapter List ] [ Part 2 ]
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#r6 nightbird#oc: lilith nightingale#ship: what if we could?#r6 zero#r6s zero#sam fisher#rainbow six siege#r6s#wer6community
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How love saved The Master and Margarita
(aka Bulgakov and Nyurenberg's story)
Mikhail Bulgakov and Elena Shilovskaya (née Nyurenberg) met for the first time in 1929 when they were both married - to Lubov Belozerskaya and Yevgeny Shilovskiy respectively.
To quote Elena herself, "I was simply the wife of lieutenant-general Shilovsky, a wonderful, very noble man. It was what they call a happy family: a husband with a high position, two beautiful sons. In general everything was fine. But when I met Bulgakov I knew that this was my fate, in spite of everything, in spite of the incredibly difficult tragedy of separation. It was fast, unusually fast, at any rate for me, love to last my whole life."
She tried everything to avoid him; but then, when they met a year and a half later, the first thing he said to her was "I can't live without you." They began an affair.
In February 1931, Elena's husband found out about their relationship. He demanded they broke it off, and for the sake of their children she never spoke to Bulgakov again for almost a year.
When he met her again, in June 1932, their love was renewed. Elena ran away with him and her children. Bulgakov wrote to Shilovskiy begging him to let Elena go, and after much persistence he finally accepted.
Elena's older son went to live with his father, while her youngest stayed with her. Bulgakov took him under his wing and cared for him like his own child. He divorced Lubov Belozerskaya in October 1932 and married Elena on the next day.
During their honeymoon, while the couple was staying at a hotel in Leningrad, Bulgakov told Elena about a novel he had begun to write years before and that he had burned down in 1930. He had lost all hope for this book, until Elena entered his life. Then, his inspiration had returned. He picked up pen and paper, and started scribbling. When Elena asked him what he was doing, he replied that he was rewriting the book. It was all in his head. But this time, he wanted to add a new character to the story.
Despite being rich and beautiful, Margarita Nikolaevna is not happy at all. Her life is boring and meaningless, until she meets a troubled nameless writer, for whose sake she'll make a deal with the Devil himself. Elena had become the prototype for one of his main characters.
Bulgakov finished editing The Master and Margarita a few weeks before his death with Elena's help. He had been sick and bed ridden for a long time. After he passed, Elena wrote in her diary; "March 10th, 1940. Misha has died."
Elena - who had become Bulgakov's personal secretary and biggest supporter - fought to see her husband's latest, most brilliant work published. She knew it was an impossible task, considering the contents of the book, and their friends tried to discourage her, but she wasn't going to give up on Bulgakov.
First, she tried publishing it on a popular literary newspaper, the Moskva. But the abridged, censored version that got printed was so awful that she eventually stepped back.
Elena kept the manuscript under lock and key for years, and then, in 1967, she finally got it published in France. The first complete version of the novel was released in the Soviet Union in 1973, but illegal copies of it had already been going around for years.
The Master and Margarita was an immediate success. Everyone from all over the world was praising its genius and wit. Eugenio Montale, one of Italy's most important poets and translators of the time, called it "a true miracle".
Margarita - the real Margarita - had once again saved her Master, not letting his name fade away in the mist of time.
The manuscript hadn't burned.
#I LOVE THEM OKAY#let me know if there's any mistake!#mikhail bulgakov#михаил булгаков#soviet literature#russian literature#the master and margarita#ruslit#мастер и маргарита#руслит#cross posted on twitter
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