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neko-rogers · 3 years

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72 Hours

You only have 72 hours to detain Steve Rogers. He’s the only opportunity you can get to find out what happened and why half of the population mysteriously disappeared.

word count: 3,168

tags: eventual dark!steve rogers and non-con; however, none much in this chapter but plot and interaction

Things escalated so quickly.

Ever since half of the world population had suddenly disappeared, which left fewer people walking around the streets of Manhattan, your job had become stressful yet so useless. The rest of the investigative crew are close to giving up and adapting to what has been left.

Meanwhile, here you were. Neither convinced nor ready to accept the fact that most of your friends and family have vanished.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. By now, the withdrawal is coming close to a year and a half. Yet the clues you have gathered merely comprises for a month of effort.

“You should be giving up on this already.” Two of your colleagues walk behind you, either of them comforting your bothered state by rubbing your back as a gesture to cheer up. The hint of hopelessness in their tone bothers you more than their initial intention.

“I doubt you will be solving one of the biggest mysteries of the world yet,” they state with an implication of humor before pulling back. From the corner of your vision, you could see their jackets folded neatly and hung on top of their arms. Just as their uniforms remained pressed, it conveys that they were already prepared to check out of their shift.

“But hey, if you do solve it, let us know. We’ll be more than supportive and grateful for your efforts, Agent.”

“Thanks. I hope so,” your voice was soft, resisting to show any sign of weakness or vulnerability despite on the verge of breaking down on the inside.

Within a few minutes, the office was left noiseless. Most of the officers who had day shifts proceeded to depart by the hour until you and two others have remained.

For you, it did not matter whether you got paid for overtime from your original schedule. Since you did not have anyone to look forward to when coming home, you preferred to spend most of your hours at work, searching for a way to somehow bring them back.

The chances were so odd and slim. The fact that all your families and friends near your location were wiped out. You could not do anything since you did not know who caused all this disaster, let alone the reasons behind the disappearances.

As your elbows were resting on top of your desk, your head fell onto both your palms. A big sigh was released from your lips countless times already. This wasn’t just getting lonely anymore, you were obsessing over something that was far from your reach.

The plain screensaver of the bureau’s logo was dancing over your desktop. Along with several pictures, specifically one or more for each member of the well-known extra-terrestrial fighting group of Avengers. Their superhero names were scribbled with red ink and pinned onto a small corkboard.

Tony Stark.

The name haunted you to your dreams. The billionaire who brought good and bad things into New York City.

You are not entirely sure why your guts were forcing you to focus on this man amongst the rest of his alliance. But you were just desperate to cling onto any evidence blindly hanging in front of you.

For the entirety of the event, you haven’t had a single report about him. Assuming that he’s been trying to hide from this mess, you tried contacting other bureaus from across the world in search of the man. For months of being very pushy, you have only been getting the same phrases like a broken record.

‘I’m sorry, Agent.’

‘No. We haven’t had any reports about Tony Stark.’

‘My crew has been trying their best, but there aren’t any traces of him.’

‘We assure you we’ll find him sooner or later, Agent.’

‘Please be patient, we don’t have much manpower here anymore.’

For months, you have been at the edge of your seat. Eager to answer the phone at the first ring. If it’s not considered patient then soon enough it’s going to run out. You did not know what backup plan you have once that does happen though.

Maybe going crazy would ironically be the sanest thing to happen.

Nevertheless, you will eventually cross that bridge when you get there. For now, the only option you have is to overwork yourself to the edge of insanity.

“A long day you got there, Agent?” A subordinate of yours passes by with two cups of coffee in her hand. She sets down the other right beside your computer screen and glances at the pictures splayed across your work area.

You groan, a frown still evident as you sat up straight before replying, “Oh tell me about it, I’ve had the longest year.”

She gave you a warm smile, like always around this time of evening. Though only being hired recently after a month of the mysterious disappearing arc, she continued to attend to her shift and adapt as the others would. And despite almost a year of greeting, and often bringing you a cup of coffee, you never really gave any of your attention to her.

This time though, you looked back just as she was about to leave. You were quick enough to get a glance of her name plastered on her identification card connected to a lanyard that draped around her collar.

Agent Maria Hill.

“Agent Hill,” you addressed her. She turned around with a smile, looking neatly as ever with her hair combed and pinned in a neat bun.

“Yes?”

"Thanks for the coffee, like every night." Your gratitude combines with a warming smile that reaches out for her. Though appearing exhausted from staring at a screen and documents for hours, you tried to look your best when facing her.

"It's no big deal." Her reply trails down to murmur a few indistinctive words that you merely brushed off, assuming that it was nothing but a nice gesture.

Before her figure could entirely exit the vicinity of your workplace, you swiftly chirped, "And thanks for being so nice to me!" A chuckle was heard from her, leaving off with a smile as she walked away without responding anything in return.

Immediately, your mood shifted again returning to your usual distressed state of mind.

The coffee you drank earlier was wearing off from your system. You could drink the cup your colleague had offered, but you figured it could not do much now that your body could only harbor caffeine to such an extent. A twelve-hour shift with merely half an hour of lunch break would not leave you, or anyone, at best. By sooner, your eyelids were getting heavy, risking to doze off at work.

Your fingers reached to move your mouse, dragging the cursor along with the useless mail your inbox has been receiving. Each of them took that least bit of hope of finding Stark, making you feel caged and haunted every day as there is not any progress in a year.

Again, you groan, louder this time. Other agents around could have heard you yet shrugged your frustration casually since they have witnessed it for months. You ball your fists and slam it against your desk, rough enough to make a sound echo throughout the room, but not enough to break it into two.

“Fuck, I need the rest,” you admit to yourself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

24 hours

Days have passed. Like usual – nothing.

As always, your routine started just as you were walking to the agency. However, amidst peacefully walking at the pavement, trying to get even a hint of peace of mind, the phone tucked inside the pocket of your jacket started ringing.

The name of your agency was the first thing you have noticed as you faced the small screen. Moreover, you did not hesitate to slide the green phone button to answer.

“Hel–”

Just as you were about to offhandedly greet the person at the other line, they made their way to cut the conversation fearfully.

“They found him! They found him, Agent!” The fearful yet impressed tone was evident, and eventually, you realized that the familiar voice belonged to Agent Hill.

Nonetheless, your mind started wandering to different scenarios, jumping to conclusions like a kid. Despite barely hearing anything other than they caught someone, you were sure looking as joyful as ever. It was as if every bit of hope you lost each week have been restored.

For a short while of daydreaming, you have recovered quickly. Moreover, inquire about the context of what she’s trying to refer to. “What do you mean you’ve found him, Hill?”

Your heart raced quickly. The tension behind finding out who it was was far from the reality of it being a pause for mere seconds.

Please say you have found Stark. Your mind could only pray harder for those words to be repeated from the other end of the call.

“The team found one of the members of the Avengers,” she answers.

“Which one of them?”

“It’s Steve Rogers.”

Your world partly crumbled after hearing a different name compared to what you were expecting. Nevertheless, happy enough that you were progressing on the vision you have laid out.

“Hold on, I’ll be at the station in a few minutes.” You assert, turning around the corner of a street you were approaching. From here, there was a fair five-minute jog until your office. Considering that it was early morning, you did not hesitate to start speeding your pace.

Right now, as if things escalated so quickly

Once you arrived, you passed vacant offices until reaching the interrogation room. The other officers were gathered outside it, facing the two-way mirror that displayed the known Captain America.

Maria Hill was standing closest to the mirror. Getting the best view of the super-soldier sitting peacefully inside the room. You approached her with a confused look upon your face.

“How did you even find him?”

“It’s a long story, there were two of them though we could only catch up with Mr. Rogers,” she explains.

“Alright.” You motioned for your other colleagues to return to their original tasks. Both you and Agent Hill were left, given privacy to talk about what should be done.

“Give me a moment with him, I’ll try to see what information we can get.” Agent Hill nods at you and hands over a folder. She gestures for you to take a step inside the room and reassures that she will be outside to act as a witness.

As you enter the room, it felt colder in addition to the resentful stare coming from Captain America himself. His gaze does not leave you, following your trail up until you reach the metal chair and take a seat in front of him.

Your back begins to sweat even after barely interacting with him. You did not know what could happen. For all you know, he could rip his handcuffs and beat your face over the table.

Nonetheless, you tried to look as assertive as possible. Adjusting your posture to feel comfier in your seat and clasped both palms of your hands over each other. You look in front, seeing the man still staring at you.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself “Nice to see you in Manhattan again, Mr. Rogers.” Your voice was close to breaking, but you disregarded it. This is your nearest encounter with a superhero, so it would be normal for anyone to feel pressured.

The soldier raises one eyebrow at your greeting. He pulls back and slumps on his chair, acting as if he’s the one probing the detainee. “Been keeping track of me, ma’am?”

The tone of his voice instantly became cocky. Even so, smirking while his gaze shifts from the floor and back at you.

“I have been keeping track of the Avengers for these past months,” you affirm. To prevent a boost of ego in his system, you also added, “But I wasn’t specifically keeping my eye on you, Captain.”

He imitates an offended look, placing one of his cuffed hands over his left chest. “Ouch. Was expecting a pretty woman like you tracking down America’s Golden Boy.”

“Nonetheless, do tell me which one of us were you looking for. Is it Stark?” You tried to ignore his mood swings. The sudden change of being quiet, then proceeding to act hurt, and now seeming provoked even if you had not given any answers yet.

You figured it was best to ignore his question.

“Mr. Rogers, may I know what you were doing here in Manhattan and who you were with–”

“I asked you a question first,” he reminds.

“Look, sir, I don’t think it will help if I’m the one answering questions here,” you sigh. “So if you could please cooperate with us.”

“Cooperate? Why would I?” He scoffs. “You can only detain me here for seventy-two hours at most. Considering that you have no evidence against me, you can only hope to pray for a miracle.”

His attitude was not at all welcoming. Your blood started to boil at the man seated in front of you, acting as if he is completely innocent about all this.

“Is it true that you aren’t withholding any information about the disappearance of half of the world population?” You argue with a brow raised at him.

“I know nothing,” the man answers.

“And if you do know something, that’s obstruction of justice. You know that right, Captain?”

He smiles faintly. This time he breaks his stare, looking at the floor while answering, “Yes I do, ma’am. Very well.”

His expressions were starting to drive you crazy. You were used to this kind of scenario back when things were normal. Though after the events transpired, it has been a year without you interrogating someone who was held inside this room. You’ve gotten subpar upon looking like an intimidating officer.

“Okay then.” You nod, “Can you explain to me why you and your accomplice tried to run away from the cops.”

“We didn’t,” he said, ever so boldly. “Your friend, over there, spotted us and tried to cuff us immediately. Which one of you thought that was a good idea?”

Your gaze follows onto the large mirror placed near the door of the room. You could only see both you and Steve Rogers, but you knew Agent Hill was at the other side listening to your conversation.

“Look, half of the population mysteriously disappeared,” you sigh in between, “it’s not something a normal person would be able to perform. Can you blame us for following up on the Avengers?”

“I guess not then, ma’am.” He nods, accepting your statement. “Still won’t change the fact that I have no idea about all these disappearances, yeah?”

“Right, then tell me who were you with before Agent Hill decided to detain you here.” You lean back while crossing both your arms against your chest. Your teeth lightly bit the insides of your cheeks as you tried to hold out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, I was with Nat,”

“Nat? Natasha Romanoff?” You raise your chin, intrigued to find out more. “Five-foot five, Russian assassin, shoulder-length vermillion hair, Natasha Romanoff?”

“That’s impressively accurate.” Steve Rogers chuckles in front of you again before adding, “Except that she’s blonde now.”

You tried to take in a few minutes to grasp the information. The silence prods through your thoughts as you analyze the possibilities, perceiving that maybe, just maybe, you’re a few steps closer to Tony Stark.

But the man disrupted your thoughts, “Still don’t know why you’re holding us custody despite all this. You won’t get anything, might as well cut to the chase.”

“You’re quite a smart-mouth there, Captain.”

“And you’re quite eager to find about Stark, Agent,” he mocks. You throw your head back in defeat. This was going nowhere and both of you knew it.

Instead, you push against the table so you could finally stand up. You rest both your palms flat against the cold metal table, arms stretched wide to balance your weight out. “I think that’s enough for today.” You grab the untouched folder before turning to your side to walk towards the door. “Thank you for trying to cooperate with us, Mr. Rogers.”

As you head out, you noticed that Agent Hill was already out of sight. She most likely headed to do her job rather than to stand and watch you and Steve exchange nonsense.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

As you get home, you dressed into casual home clothes and headed to bed.

You could not entirely fall asleep. The super-soldier was stuck in your mind, frustrating you into the depths of it.

You tried to ponder, grabbing the folder of compiled documents that Agent Hill handed you over earlier. As you opened it, the first layer of it was pictures of Steve Roger’s face throughout the week. You guessed that they were not just trailing him today, but also studied his moves for the past week.

Furthermore, you flipped through pictures of him and his crew, but they looked like they were not in taken in New York. It was dark and the faces of Steve, Natasha, two other persons in the background could be seen fairly.

“Huh.” You furrowed your eyebrows realizing that there were more details about them that you expected. For a while also wondering why Hill did not updated you about these at least.

But eventually you acknowledged that you were so busy figuring out information about Tony Stark, that you forgot that the other superheroes he has worked with were just as significant.

Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Sam Wilson. Location: Edinburgh, Scottland 21:32. April 2018

Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Location: Manhattan, New York 13:05. October 2019

His beard remained almost the same despite the year difference. His golden hair was brushed backed sleekly. His appearance was still alike a year ago which meant that he was trying to maintain that kind of appearance

Compared to his clean, shaved aura back in 2012, you can admit that he looks way more intimidating now. You did not know whether he was trying to look different to prevent the bureau from recognizing him or if it was because he wanted to look like some creepy degenerate.

Nonetheless, there were a lot of questions running around your mind. It was only tonight when you finally got to grasp on who and what you’re dealing with.

However, your comprehensive scanning was interrupted after hearing a tap on your window. It did not sound as terrifying as it would, but it was loud enough to interrupt your thoughts from getting further.

In the end, you set the files on top of your nightstand and switched on your lamp. You lay in your bed, eyes sealed shut yet your mind still wanders off, trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.

When drifting to sleep, the most evident question strayed:

Why was Steve Rogers, and his team, staying in Manhattan, despite hiding completely undisturbed in Edinburgh?

#dark!steve #dark!steve smut #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #dark!fic

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moonflms · 3 years

Text

➷｡˚head-start! — nct/wayv hendery

PROLOGUE ༄ - story where you compete in the annual hackathon led by sandbox! entering the 13th batch of sandbox's 'start-up' program, you plan on following seo dalmi and her path to success... that's until you were given a head start; initiating your own journey.

—a spin off to 2020 -drama, "start-up" !

INSPIRATION ༄ - seo dalmi & start- up (k-drama)

PAIRING ༄ - smiley developer! hendery x determined developer! fem reader

GENREs ༄ - fluff, competition, spin-off, developer au, start-up, hackathon.

W. COUNT ༄ - around 1k+

NOTES ༄ - cussing is present. second oneshot here ! lowercased. expect grammar and typo errors. simple wording. those who hasn't watched start-up might get confused a bit so i apologize in advance for that,, please ignore errors as this was originally a hd x oc story.

do not repost. copyright belongs to @moonflms 2021. reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! originally posted on my twitter (@suhhvsco). enjoy reading!

—start

"in ten minutes, the annual sandbox hackathon will commence! developers, please proceed to the auditorium."

a notice was blasted off through the speakers surrounding the registration. the venue was flooded with people— as expected. the annual 'start-up' program was back for its 13th year! the lobby was filled with staff, investors, and people with varying capabilities.

signing the last few forms, you left the register. you looked around the venue as it was overwhelming. the building was tall and huge. the interior displayed vibrant colors almost everywhere! it was also rowdy as all that could be heard was buzzing from everyone's chatters and the excitement that was clearly evident.

going with the plan you created before-hand, you accomplished the very first step. you were now standing in korea's very own silicon valley, sandbox!

separating yourself from the crowd, you found a small area where you could get yourself and your thoughts straight. you took a look at your id card; skimming through your portrait and details. the customized id was clipped to the company's signature red sling. you felt proud.

"kim y/n, independent participant." you read off the card.

you also felt pressured as you came to the program alone.

clearing your pesky thoughts, you started to wander around the area.

you dreamt on starting her own company, but the lack of experience was keeping you from achieving it. hearing that sandbox was opening the "start-up" program once again, gave you a tingling feeling. it was a great opportunity for you and your friends who had the same goal. you felt like you had a chance to win as you remember seo dalmi. one of korea's known ceo's —seo dalmi, started as an aspiring ceo who was a college drop-out.

not necessarily an inspiration, but you did look up to the successful ceo. dalmi starting her career rough proved that you still had a chance. at least for you, it was better to try than staying in a stuffy office listening to people's complaints.

you set yourself to win the competition and the competition solely. sure, you were willing to make some friends or what not, but let's say you're determined to get your ass out of that hell-like job.

you and your friends applied for the opportunity. however, you were the only one who passed the screening, up for the first round of elimination; the hackathon.

the hackathon simply determines the position you'll be working as. you were okay with being a group member, but why not aim for that ceo spot? the hackathon is where a company has less than 2 days to create a start-up. winning groups advances to the next rounds.

you continued to look around the surroundings, admiring the insides of sandbox's office. vibrant colors, wide area, and a huge digital clock that says 10:25.

wait– 10:25? you only had five minutes left before the hackathon commences!

"all start-up participants, staff, and mentors; in less than five minutes the broadcasts will begin. please gather inside the sandbox auditorium asap." another announcement was made."

a stampede started as fellow developers and aspirers started to run heading to the auditorium. the pushing became more intense as loud buzzing voices blocked the building's music. you ran along with them, to avoid being trampled on.

—

the doorway was now visible as you slowly saw yourself heading into the venue. the dim room was filled with colorful spotlights. cameras and staff were standing on the platforms by the sides and mentors are slowly taking their seats up the stage, having the view of this year's qualifiers. people were in awe as they saw start-up's biggest shareholders come up stage; mrs. seo dalmi and her husband— dosan, ms. injae, and even mr. han jipyeong. people's attentions were on those particular mentors, not even acknowledging the presence of the rest.

your wrist was aching as you went running and dragging a trolley full of your gadgets and essentials. the auditorium was quickly filling up and not much space was left. you weren't claustrophobic, but you disliked how people were unintentionally pushing one another as a result of excitement. you lost count of the number of times people stepped on you flats.

after a few shifting, you spotted an open space, nearly by the center, and was just a right distance from the huge display monitor. you quickly rushed to the area, which you did. you succeeded to take the spot, but you were now on the floor, on your ass.

out of your actions and adding the fact that you could be a bit clumsy, you accidentally bumped into someone. with the weight of your bag, it made the impact between your butt and the ground a bit painful.

you hissed at the sting until you saw a guy panicking in front of you. he held out his hand for you to take. "the fU— OH I AM SO SORRY" you took his hand, slowly standing up making him refrain from spazzing more.

"don't worry! i bumped into you, i apologize- " you dusted your jeans and looked at the guy.

he was quite cute, a 'hotshot' per sé. "are you really sure? i didn't mean to block your way, but you did kinda bumped into me" he chuckled as he stood beside the girl, still double-checking if you were absolutely fine. (or he could be secretly be checking you out– anyways;)

you assured the guy once again. "well, i guess we had the same intention" both were now occupying the space you spotted earlier, and it was alright and still spacious to move around without hitting anyone with your elbow. you looked at the guy beside you who kept an eye on your movements from time to time. "came here alone?" you asked.

he shook his head "i was with a few friends, i guess i flocked out because all the people" you felt a bit guilty as you knew you could've been the reason he lost them in this pit. your worry was visible from the outside, so he immediately re-assured the lady "don't worry, all things are forgiven! at least i'm not lonely, i met someone to keep me company." he smiled at you "i'm hendery! and you are?..." he spotted your name tag, "kim y/n... y/n-ssi, you have a pretty name by the way." you grinned as you shook his hand.

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual start-up competition! a competition wherein your dreams become a reality!" the crowd cheered.

"i am yoon seon hak, ceo of sandbox and SH venture capital. it is nice to meet you all!" sandbox's ceo greeted.

"i am glad to say that sandbox's 'start-up' project is opening it's doors once again for its 13th year. this would not be possible without the undying support of our investors before you and of course, the participation of 386 aspiring starters. we at sandbox are deeply grateful."

everyone clapped as the ceo continued her speech.

"now the first step of the competition will commence; the hackathon. through the hackathon's challenge, only 40 participants will be able to receive a ceo position. to their advantage, they will be able to pick four from the remaining participants creating their own company and start-up. in the end, investors will only select five teams to move into sandbox, moving on to the finals. in a minute, the mechanics of the hackathon will be sent to your accounts. "

multiple rings and dings went off, everyone rushing to open their mobiles.

"may the best man win. good luck." the ceo showed her infamous sweet smile.

the challenge started flashing through the monitor, gasps and sighs were filling the air. hendery beside you had his mouth open a bit, quickly typing as many answers as he could. you on the other hand, was quite prepared as you did some research. you sent answers after another, typing speedily. you were focused as everything around you started to blur, only you and the monitor.

some of the participants were already burned out, the pressure of the challenge giving them a mental block. some couldn't access their phones, and simply some couldn't send their answers right away thanks to their shitty data.

from up the stage, the view was overwhelming for the mentors as they reminisce about their past selves. exactly in their shoes a few years back.

hendery shrugged his shoulders as he started to feel a bit tense. you on the other hand, started to feel your thumb soring from the aggressive tapping of her phone screen.

ten minutes has past and the challenge was now over. a small break period started as the staff crew began their calculations.

you took a few seconds for your eyes to close. with eyes still closed, you heard a few 'hey!'s from your side. you slowly opened your eyes as you sighed off some relief. another step of her plan accomplished. you glanced at your noisy side to see hendery reunited with his set of friends. "well good for him." you thought.

you nervously continued to look up to the monitors, waiting for the results. your nails tapped the backside of your phone, creating soft noises. "don't sweat it, you've done well." you looked over to the voice to see hendery smiling. "thanks, you did as well, hendery." you returned. "oh yeah! thank you for keeping me company for a bit, it was nice knowing you y/n-ssi."

"those are my idiots for friends i came with," hendery stifled a laugh "you don't seem you have any colleagues, don't you?" hendery asked as you looked at him, shaking your head.

"i'm fine on my own, why do you ask?" you questioned.

"you seem lonely, but you know you have me now. and i'm also willing to make you my teammate once i get my ceo spot" hendery smoldered as you eyed him.

"i'd accept the offer, but i believe a team can only have one ceo, hendery." you gave back.

" i didn't expect to find a rival this quick, but we'll see i guess." hendery took out his hand once again for you to shake, which you immediately did.

your competitiveness was burning inside you. "i guess i'll be side-tracking a bit from my original goal, i'll be taking this as a head-start then"

once their hands broke away, the monitor started to flash numbers. "all selected ceos, please proceed to the stage to be acknowledged."

you quickly skimmed through the displayed ranks, finding your number. "106.. 022, holy shit— 127!" you quickly checked your card for your number; 127. you were on the list. you smiled as you celebrated your success on your own. you quickly looked to your sides as you look for hendery. once you did, you saw the male already approaching you.

"guessing from your look, congratulations!" hendery offered a hug which you gladly took without realizing. "but don't get too hopeful y/n-ssi, 117 is also there." hendery pointed out to his own number as well. "have fun beating wayv tech, ceo-nim" hendery smiled as he took your hand, planting a small peck. hendery left heading to the stage. heating up, you wiped your hand against your jeans. "i don't mind at all to be honest" you thought to yourself.

you made your way up the platform, seeing the rest of the start-up participants. a ceo shirt was being distributed around the stage. you looked around to find your rival, who was standing a few people behind, eyeing your moves with a smile.

you planned on following seo dalmi's steps to her success, but you didn't expect—even the least, that you could possibly find your own nam dosan in your life as well.

—end

➷｡min's notes: the competition and the plot in general are revolved under the k-drama start up, including the mentions of the drama's casts. in no way, this depicts the actual process of an actual hackathon. p.s, i simp for hendery. have a nice/day or night! <3

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years

Text

Dabi SFW Alphabet

No warnings! Just fluff! Enjoy! :D

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) he’s not very affectionate, but shows he loves you in his own way. He’ll let you stay the night with him on occasion and hold you in his arms. He’ll also let you touch his face, and he hates when people touch him. He’ll also get you small things. He’s never been in a real relationship, so he doesn’t know how they work. He asks Toga and Twice and gets you a teddy bear or flowers every once in a while. It’s rare, but always surprising and sweet.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) he doesn’t really do friends that much, but he would definitely count on you and trust you to have his back. The friendship started when he broke into your house to hide out from the cops. You were watching a movie and eating popcorn and just sat there staring at him. You both stared for a while before you looked back at the tv and continued watching your movie. He was confused. You were just too tired to deal with anymore shit. You’d had a shit day with shitty people. He threatened to kill you, but you just blinked at him and commented about how beautiful his eyes were. He looked at the movie and instead sat and watched it with you until the cops left the area. You promised not to tell anyone in exchange for him never breaking into your house again. He broke the deal, but you never told.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) he secretly likes to cuddle. He’ll act cool and irritated and complain you’re too hot, but he secretly loves when you cuddle him. He also likes to feel your smooth hands touch his scarred skin, makes him feel at ease. One thing he loves to do though, is spoon with you. (Ngl I had a five minute thought session of the spelling of spoon cause I thought it was different for some stupid reason.) feeling your body heat and being in complete control makes him feel powerful. He could burn you to a crisp if he wanted, but you’re the least annoying person to him, so that’d be a waste.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) he’s a villain and has no intentions of settling down and getting married anytime soon. He believes marriage is just a new title for you both. If you know you love each other what’s the point in getting married? He’s good at cooking, but horrible at cleaning. He’ll leave all of that up to you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He would either burn you to death cause you know too much, or kidnap you and keep you as a slave to the league. He’s not taking any chances of you spilling the beans to the heroes or anyone else for that matter. Always be cautious if you’re planning to end it with Dabi. Choose your words carefully or you’ll end up in ashes. When he breaks up with you, be prepared to be threatened.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) he thinks marriage is pointless, and it would openly display a weakness to other villains and heroes if they knew this sinister villain were married. People wouldn’t take him seriously enough as a villain. That’s what he believes. However, if you annoy him enough he’ll give in so he can stop hearing you “bitch” about commitment. It turned out not to be that bad, except he melted his wedding ring a fight. Not on purpose. It’s the knowledge that he’s your husband officially now that makes you happy. And he’s all about you wearing your ring. It shows everyone you’re his.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) he’s very rough and sadistic. If you fell and scraped your knee. He would kneel down acting like he was going to look at it, but would instead flick it really hard and grin at your pain. Eventually he’ll grab you a bandaid and tell you to stop bitching. Emotionally if you’re sad, that’s when he’s most gentle. If you’ve had a bad day at work and you’re crying, he’ll try to comfort you. “You look really ugly when you cry, you know that? Who gives a damn about your shitty co-workers?” He will drape his jacket over you. “And your boss is just a lil cock-sucker. You could always just say the word and I’ll use them for fuel to burn your work to the ground.” Villainous, but he is a villain. It always cheers you up knowing he would seriously go to such lengths to make you happy and cheer you up.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) He tried to ignore that he loves your hugs, but sometimes can’t control it. When you spend the night with him you always lay with him and hug him, he won’t admit it but he likes your hugs, even if he finds them annoying sometimes. Unconditional love and sweet hugs were never apart of his childhood, and if you happened to stop hugging him, he would just hug you and not let you go.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) takes him a very long time to say it, if he even does. He doesn’t really believe he needs to tell you he loves you. He expects you to already know how he feels. The first time he said it was when you were complimenting his looks. Telling him how handsome he was, how strong he is, how his determination is so admirable, and that no matter what happened that you would always be by his side to support him and his dream. “Well, well, that’s not a bad attempt there. Better than your previous ones.” He knows you’re trying to make him feel more confident in his looks and heart, but it never works. “...don’t leave me, (Y/N). Or else I’ll have to burn you alive. It’d be a shame to see the woman I love turn to ash.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) will get jealous easily depending on what the situation is. If you’re purposefully trying to make him jealous, beware the consequences and prepare yourself for a very long night of punishments. If someone is hitting on you, he’ll walk up to you no matter where it is and grin sadistically at the man. “Hey doll, this guy givin’ you problems?” He’ll activate his quirk and stare him down intimidatingly. “If so I can fix that right away.” Whoever it is will run away in terror. Unless it’s a hero, and then you know you have to drag Dabi away before he really gets arrested.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) he likes his kisses to be heavy and hot. He likes to assert his extreme dominance over you and show you who’s boss. He likes to kiss your lips, cause he knows once he kisses you you’ll be thinking about him all day. Another spot would be under your jaw. He likes this spot for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that if he could he could bite into you harshly and make you bleed. And to mark you and let everyone know you belong to him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) horrible. Never bring him around a child ever. He’s already had a bad enough childhood as it is, and he doesn’t want his child to experience that. As for other kids, he finds them greatly annoying and when they cry and scream all he wants to do is shut them up and scare them. If he had a kid with you... don’t expect much. He won’t help a lot. But he enjoys laying around with your infant in his chest while he watches tv. He’ll let them do whatever they want. He only wants to give them a good life he never had.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) he’s lazy. He’ll lounge around without a shirt with some sweat pants on. His hair will be pretty messy and sticking up more than usual. A lot of the times you catch him staring at himself in mirror running his fingers over his scarred skin. Then he’ll glare at his reflection. You always walk behind him and hug him and kiss all of his scarred skin. Then he’ll pull you into the shower innocently and wash your hair.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) he’s an animal at nights, relentless in the bedroom... if you know what I mean. That’s his ideal night. However, sometimes you need a break from his constant sexual harassment even though he’s your boyfriend. He’ll be grumpy, but end up breaking into your house unannounced and watch movies with you. Sometimes, he’ll do your hair, or paint your nails with a bored expression. He’ll even wear face masks with you to soften his wrinkled skin. One time, you straightened his hair flat against his head and laughed as hard as you could because he looked like a more depressed and scarred version of Shigaraki. He ended up forcing you to pass out as punishment.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) don’t expect him to ever open up to you. He’s a very secretive man, you don’t even know his real name if he even has one. He’ll tell you about missions and complain about the other members of the league of villains, but anything about who he was before that you’ll never hear. Soon, he’ll tell you eventually. Just not any time soon.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) he’s not easily angered. If he is it’s very passive and threatening. You have seen videos on the internet of some of Dabi’s appearances from civilians when they perform the large scale attacks, and he loves to taunt the heroes. You’ve never seen him yell, only angrily glare or scoff with a sarcastic and rude remark.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) When you begin to talk about your past, it always appears he’s not listening. He doesn’t really care all that much. He likes focusing on the now and the future. However, he pays close attention to things that make you upset. If you talk about a traumatic experience, he’ll act as if he’s not listening, but secretly he’s promising you that he’s never gonna let whatever happened happen to you again. Then other times, he’ll remember the embarrassing stuff about you and tease you to death.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) His favorite moment in your relationship was when you got embarrassed for Shigaraki calling you both out for being a couple. You were, but it was only the beginning and you were still embarrassed and uncomfortable being around so many dangerous villains. You became super flustered and red in the face. He loved teasing you and peppering your face in kisses just to embarrass you and make you flustered.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He’s a bit protective, he can’t really do much since he’s a villain and would be recognized or put you in more danger if the heroes were to discover you and him were romantically involved. If you were in danger by another villain, he would surrender himself willingly for your safety, but once you were away and safe, he would activate his quirk and kill off the stupid villains that thought they could contain him. He’s your hero basically. He wants you to protect him by just being there for him and being an outlet for his stress and pain. He wants you to just reassure him he can make this dream come true no matter what, and that even if he’s alone, you’re right there beside him. It’s all he ever wanted. Was to be loved.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) doesn’t really take you on dates, doesn’t remember anniversaries, and doesn’t really care about the everyday tasks. If you tell him about an anniversary, he’ll just be a bit dumbfounded at how long you’d actually been dating. “That long? I’m surprised I haven’t killed ya yet. So loud and annoying.” The next day though when he forgot, he’ll bring you flowers he stole since you seemed down about it. Also Toga and Twice pestered him time get you something since he was being an ass.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) constant sex. It’s tiring, and honestly drains you, but it’s something he likes. You’ll have to put your foot down when it comes to standing up for what you don’t want. He’ll take it as a joke at first. He also never listens to you. If you tell him he’s beautiful and you love him, he will scoff and call you a fucking liar. Something else he does that annoys you is picking you up from work just to take you back to the league of villains headquarters to just chill with you. It’s sweet, both you always get these suspicious stares. One time, a hero recognized him and he had to flee and leave you by yourself in a bad part of town. You stayed where you were and he eventually came back to get you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He thinks he’s ugly. You heard from Twice that some wannabe villains called him disgusting, and a freak, and that his disgusting face made them wanna throw up. In the end Dabi incinerated them. He could care less, but you know that there’s something he’s hiding behind those surgical staples and black hair. One time to make him feel better, you put heavy make up on him. He didn’t like it, and neither did you. He was surprised you didn’t like it, but it made him happy you loved his appearance despite his scarred up body.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) not really. Having you is like having a favorite shirt, you’ll always wanna wear it and treasure it forever since it’s your favorite. He doesn’t need a shirt to live though. He enjoys your company, and can talk to you about anything but chooses not to. He would definitely miss you. The league would have to deal with his extra grumpy attitude if you were ever to disappear. It’d be very difficult to find someone to put up with his bullshit like you do.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) he secretly wants you to become a villain with him. He wants you to come on missions with him and have his back the whole time. He’ll protect you don’t worry, but his main concern is you being captured by heroes. They’re sneaky sometimes, and he’d be damned if he let one of them take you. He would have a lot of fun with you. If you were to become a villain. His favorite thing with you would be to attack heroes on patrols and taunt them. Also go to malls and steal things. He likes being sneaky with you too. He’d be proud.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) he wouldn’t want a partner trying to change him. He ain’t gonna change for nobody. Not even you. So if you get in a relationship with Dabi, you’ll have to love him for who he is. He doesn’t want someone who disagrees strongly with his dream. He hates heroes, obviously. He hates your co-workers. He hates how sweet you are but still love him. He hates how he feels for you and how you make him slightly weaker. But that just means he loves you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) one of the worst things you have to deal with is how much he holds you in his sleep. His arms will be tightly around your waist or shoulders while you sleep so you can’t get up at all. One time you had to pee so bad you almost did it right there on the bed. If you hadn’t yelled right in his face and squirmed like a worm then you surely would’ve busted your bladder. He also is such a heavy sleeper. The end of the world could be happening and he’d sleep right through it. One thing that wakes him up immediately you’ve learned is that the staples under his eyes are extremely sensitive, and if you touch them, he’ll wake up immediately and become irritated.

#my hero academia #my hero headcanons #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #boko no hero academia

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satoruvt · 4 years

Text

the color of you - white (5)

ik keigo’s like a hero n he has his hero costume on all the time but for this chapter (for no particular reason) imagine him in light jeans and a black t-shirt ok thank u i hope thinking of that makes u as happy as it does me

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 2368

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → converse high by bts, somebody loves you by jeremy zucker, and some of can’t we just leave this monster alive? by tomorrow x together

this chapter → compromising positions, a flour war, a Moment, y/n realizes some things and keigo’s a little shit

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

The sun has never been your friend in the mornings, and you’re reminded of that fact every single time you wake up. For someone who doesn’t like getting blinded first thing in the morning, you sure were bold to put your bed right next to the window, knowing full well the first few hours of sunlight shone directly onto your pillows.

Your brain wakes up before your body does, a few lingering thoughts from your dream swimming in your head in fragmented colors and sentences, and once you’re more coherent you open your eyes, flutter at the sunlight - wait, this isn’t your bed.

There’s sun nearby, sure, but the window’s too distant. Your vision’s a little blurry from sleep but you think you know your colors pretty well and these sheets do not match the ones you picked out from Target, like, two years ago. And then you remember, oh, awards ceremony. Hotel. Suite. Okay.

You move to stretch, manage to get your arms above your head, but even when you move the arm around your waist stays put. For a second you think holy shit, I’m paralyzed, but then you realize that you don’t have three arms. And then you realize that the arm around your waist belongs to Keigo, who’s still in your bed.

For the first time this morning your brain catches up on time with the sudden thought of “he’s not your actual boyfriend, what is this” but when you turn your head to wake up him with a flick on his forehead you stop.

You’re a fan of him. It’s not hard for you to admit - it’s just an add-on, at this point, because Keigo is definitely more of a friend than an idol to you. You’re a fan, no less, you’ve dabbled in buying cute keychains and pens stylized with colors that he wore often. That’s why, you reason with yourself, you’re suddenly very aware of how gorgeous he is.

The sunlight isn’t on either of you, but it casts a gentle, warm glow into the hotel room through the break in the curtains and it dresses Keigo beautifully, subtly. Makes his skin look sunkissed and golden. His hair’s a mess, wild and sticking in every direction, but somehow it’s fitting for him. You can’t stop your eyes from tracing over his face, taking in his proportions and then dropping to his lips, and you keep your eyes trained on him as you turn so you’re on your side, facing him. You think about it for a moment, stopping your already-raising hand, then tell yourself that in the times he’s fallen asleep while you two were hanging out, he’s never woken up, so he won’t now.

You get one push of your fingers through his hair - as soft as you can - and when you refocus on Keigo’s face he is definitely awake. You freeze, absolutely mortified, while he only raises an eyebrow at you. He doesn’t move his arm from around your waist.

“Morning, sunshine,” and oh God, that’s what his morning voice sounds like? “Is this your way of telling me you’re actually into me?”

Heat flushes to your cheeks and you take your hand away, laughing nervously and way too loud for the morning. You try to think of anything to say that’s better than “sorry, I couldn’t help myself, you just looked so good” but nothing comes to mind and you stay looking down as best you can.

“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” Keigo says, and you realize you said it out loud, God fucking - “Hmm, I don’t know. Sounds like you’re harboring secret feelings for me, sweetheart.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile and roll your eyes playfully, shoving Keigo away from you as he barks out a laugh. “Get out of my room, you’re not allowed in here anymore.”

Keigo doesn’t give his usual protests outside of a smothered “nooo” into the pillows after you get out of bed - how cute, you think to yourself - and gather your toiletries and clothes so you can shower. You yell an “out!” for good measure before you shut the bathroom door, waiting for a moment until you hear the door to his room shut.

Your shower is quick, making use of the high-end hotel body wash, and you half expect Keigo to still be in the bed when you walk out of the bathroom. You dry your hair with a towel and your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You unlock it to see a text.

keigo baby 🐦

Can i come back yet i miss you

You snort at his text, send back a “get in here, bird boy” but then realize it’s almost nine thirty and you need to get to the bakery. Keigo walks in and you rush to find your usual sneakers. When you finally look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying your shoes, he’s got an eyebrow raised.

“In a rush?” He asks, and you send him a playful glare, but you’re already too late to think about banter.

“Yeah, I gotta get to the bakery,” you tell him, finalizing the knot on your shoe. You only brought a small bag with your things, and it doesn’t take long for you to gather them up. You take a quick glance around the room to make sure nothing’s forgotten, finding nothing that looks like it’s yours.

(Your eyes land on your dress from the night before, and you aim a look at Keigo that says “what should I do with that” and he tells you he’ll take care of it.)

“Okay,” you breathe, looking at Keigo. You feel the urge to kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ve got nothing to do until, like, noon. Do you mind if I see you to the bakery?”

You murmur an “of course not” with a smile and the two of you are off.

It’s a short trip - you take the subway to a station that’s only a few blocks from the bakery and walk the rest of the way. At one point Keigo slips his hand into yours, intertwines your fingers, and despite this now being a whole two-month (or something) endeavor it makes you choke just a little bit at how casual he is about it.

“Text me if you need anything,” you tell Keigo when the two of you reach the bakery, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to call my fake baker girlfriend when I’m in a pinch with a villain,” he says, and you pout at him, pushing on his shoulder. He laughs, kisses you, murmurs “I’ll see you later” against your lips before leaving with a wink and a gust into the sky.

You open the door to the bakery and it’s only when you finally get to working fifteen minutes later that you’re sure you hadn’t seen any paparazzi around.

Keigo comes back about ten minutes after closing, when you’re in the dining area and setting chairs on top of tables. You’d given the employees working today the go-ahead to leave, since the last hour of business consisted of a couple coming in to ask for directions. The bell above the door rings and you turn your head, meeting Keigo’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, mock surprise in your voice as you fold your arms over your chest and walk closer to him. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, I’ve been craving your signature donuts for a while now,” Keigo replies, sending you a playful grin. “Think you could whip some up for me? I’ll even pay extra.”

“Sorry, hero, but we’re already closed.”

Keigo gapes at you and you snort before walking behind the counter to take the food out of the display case. “Come on, not even for your favorite hero? Your idol? Your boyfriend?”

You pretend to think about it for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. “Hmm, I suppose I could make a quick batch…” you stare directly at him, point at him assertively. “But you’re helping.”

Keigo seems less than excited to do so, shoulders deflating at your words, but he walks behind the counter and into the kitchen after you without a complaint. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be wasting ingredients like this, but at the same time business has been really booming - you can afford to buy more.

It’s fun, baking with Keigo. Even if he’s not keen on working and you definitely don’t trust him to measure liquids, he seems… eager to please. You tell him to mix and he does, to crack an egg and he does. The entire time he’s making jokes (some of them… really poor, painful dad jokes) and there’s a warmth in your heart.

Keigo pours out flour into a sifter over the large mixing bowl you have set up, but instead of batting the sifter against his hand like a normal person, he holds it like a pan and he’s sauteing something. You frown, taking the sifter from his hand (as gently as you can without spilling). “You’re doing it wrong,” you say.

“What, there’s a right way to…” Keigo pauses, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Sift?”

“Yeah, that - there’s a right way to sift something? Does it really matter?”

“...no,” you start, then furrow your brows. “But it’ll make a mess.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna have to clean up when we’re done anyways.”

An idea crosses your mind and you know, whole-heartedly, that it is probably your worst idea of the day for multiple reasons. But the knowledge of its consequences still doesn’t stop you from reaching into the sifter, grabbing a little less than a handful of flour, and spritzing it on Keigo’s chest.

“You’re just gonna take a shower when you get home, right?” You say, innocent as can be. You take another not-handful and rub it on his shirt. “A mess doesn’t matter.”

You look up at Keigo and his gaze says something like “this shirt was ten thousand yen” before he grabs his own handful of flour - not from the bowl or the sifter, but rather from the twenty-pound bag you opened specifically for him. He throws it at you and it lands in a puff in your hair, dusting you in white.

An unspoken agreement is passed between the two of you when you meet his gaze again - this is war.

In three seconds flat both of you are grabbing anything you can - flour, sugar, anything - and using them as weapons, throwing them in the general direction of the other. It’s gonna be a pain getting it out of your clothes, but you find you don’t really care. Milk is thrown from a measuring cup over your shoulder, lands on the floor with a splash mixed with your alarmed yelp. A single egg yolk hits Keigo in the chest, breaking like a water balloon on impact. Music you barely remember starting before the two of you got to baking plays like a soundtrack in a movie.

The Baking War of 2020 is short, though, and soon enough you both are panting and laughing as you stand in the kitchen covered in baking supplies. “Truce?” you pitch, wiping what you think is baking powder off of your eyelashes.

“Hold on,” Keigo says. He grabs an egg from the open carton on the counter, steps so the two of you are almost chest-to-chest. Your smile fades because oh, he’s really close, what is he doing?

He cracks the egg over your head. That’s what he’s doing.

You close your eyes, sigh, try to forget about your momentary panic as you feel the egg coat your hair. The yolk breaks somewhere between the top of your head and your eyebrow and you close one eye in hopes it won’t drip into it. “Truce,” Keigo grins.

“I hope you know that you helped waste my ingredients and you didn’t even get your donuts,” you mumble, pouting up at him. Keigo’s grin grows fond as he shrugs, uses his thumb to rub most of the yolk off of your forehead. You find yourself wishing that someone with a camera was around so you have an excuse to kiss him.

“I’m rich, I can buy you more,” he says, and you really cannot stop looking at his lips.

It’s like last night - a part of you wants to shrug your heart pounding off as Keigo just looking good in all black and expensive rings, because anyone could tell he was easily the most beautiful person at the ceremony, but your heart is pounding just as hard - if not harder - right now and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It startles you, makes nervous butterflies erupt in your chest and stomach and blood rush to your cheeks, because you’re pretty sure this is -

Keigo’s phone rings and it makes both of you jump; you end up a solid three feet away from where you were before. It’s really hot in here, is it hot? It’s definitely hot. You need to turn off the heater.

“Shit,” Keigo curses to himself, and when you look at him he’s doing his best to brush off flour and sugar from his clothes with a rag. “There’s a villain downtown. I gotta go.”

You nod immediately, understanding, but you don’t trust your voice to speak that much. You swallow - gulp, really - and hope he doesn’t notice how jumpy you are. “Be safe,” you say, and cringe at how small your voice sounds.

“I’ll text you later,” is all Keigo tells you before he’s leaving through the back door of the bakery. You hear his wings as he takes off.

You don’t move for a moment, instead choosing to slump against the counter. Usually when you started liking someone, it was gradual, it wasn’t surprising or - or like this, you knew and it was fine, regardless of outcome. This didn’t happen to you.

You sigh, close your eyes and try not to freak out too much about the very sudden and very scary realization that you like Keigo.

#IM SO SORRY ITS LATE KAJHDSKFJH #anyways i hope u like it i thought it was very cute <3 <3 #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #keigo takami imagine #tcoy #the color of you #x reader #reader insert

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ladytrelaw · 4 years

Text

Nothing Like a Lord

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25998838

Thinking about how Grinpayne’s only experience of young lords/highborns who grew up in court would have been Josiana and Dirry-Moir, and how our self-destructive anxious boy would definitely have questioned his character identity if he grew up in the same system as they did. Thanks @ratcarney for inspiring me to write again and actually finish this drabble that’s been sitting in my notes. Set in the new world which you know means that sweet sweet crimson lethe withdrawal.....

***

He’s bored. He’s so very, very bored; everything from his pianoforte in the sitting room to his library in the study filling him with nothing more than a dull greyness. He flops into a chair at the dining room table, swinging his legs over the arms in one smooth movement, and voices his grievances despairingly. The man at the head of the table raises an eyebrow, but does not look up.

“If you’re so bored you can come with me to hear the people’s complaints this afternoon.”

Well. That’s not what he meant at all.

He tells his father so, voice curving upward in a pitiful whine, but his father simply turns a page of his book and motions a servant for more tea.

“If you’re going to inherit my estate,” he says calmly, “you had better start learning how to run it. Listening to the people is a part of that duty.”

“But they’re so ugly and pathetic, Father” he points out, rising from the dining table only to collapse dramatically on his back in the window seat. “It makes me feel truly ill to be near them, you can’t expect me to endure it.”

“I don’t just expect you to, I’m ordering you to.” His father says, in the tone that allows no further argument, and he tips his head back with a groan of resignation. The day, already dreary, has just been utterly ruined.

***

The chair in the welcoming chamber is stiff and rigid, and he has to sit with his hands neatly folded in his lap and his feet firmly on the floor. He fidgets uncomfortably, eyeing the grounds outside the window with bitter longing and only stopping his squirming at a sharp glance from his father. The older man raises a hand, ushering the next pitiful creatures forward to moan and gripe about some trivial matter or other, and he keeps from rolling his eyes only with monumental effort.

The family that step forward is small, just an old, weary man and a young girl with the most peculiar silvery-white hair holding onto his arm. They’re both filthy, of course - peasants always are - but at least the girl seems to have made something of an effort to not appear utterly despondent, with a light purple crocheted cloak of sorts hanging over the usual assortment of rags that always turns his stomach to look at. He leans forward slightly as the man coughs and bows before speaking.

“My lord, I come to you with a plea on behalf of my daughter. I am a potion-maker, and I rely on certain ingredients to brew not just the tonics that I sell at market but also the medicine that will keep sickness at bay when the winter comes.” He pauses, hesitating. “The harvest has been poor this year, my lord, as I’m sure you know, and I’ve been unable to source many of the ingredients I need. Without them, our income has suffered, and I have no medicine for my daughter.” He pulls his daughter forward slightly, and she looks up towards where the Lord and his son sit with a blank expression. Rude child, he thinks, to not have the decency to look her benefactors in the face.

“She is already blind, your lordship. A small donation from the grace of your heart would go towards making sure she suffers no further.”

Ah. That explains the blank stare, at least. He turns to see what his father will make of this wretched man and his defective daughter, but to his surprise when he looks over he finds those familiar cold eyes already turned on him.

“My son is learning the intricacies of managing an estate,” his father says coolly, addressing the peasants without looking at them. “He will respond to your plight as he sees fit.”

He turns, surprised, to look back at the peasants whose fortune he now apparently holds in his hands. A flicker of something crosses the old man’s face, so fast he almost misses it… but not fast enough. It was a flash of offence, of irritation, plain as day. He narrows his eyes. So this pauper thinks he’s not good enough to preside over them as his father does? Very well.

He sits up straighter, lifting his chin.

“You say you’re a potion maker?”

“That’s right, my, uh, my lord,” the man says, bowing his head slightly in deference, but not nearly as deep a bow as he gave his father. Hesitating over his title too, the nerve of it.

“Well then, what will you do with any money we give you?” He scoffs, leaning forwards. “Buy medicine from your competitors?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes” The old man says through gritted teeth, glaring up at him as though he has any right to be so insolent. His heart, already hardened, grows icy.

“And how much money, exactly, would you be asking for?”

The man starts to speak, but he cuts across him.

“And how much will the man after you ask for, who is also living through the bad harvest? And the man after him, and after him?”

The peasant at this point is growing red with rage, but in response he simply smiles sweetly; the picture of innocence.

“We help those who are needy, sir, not those who have simply failed to plan for a bad season. If your daughter grows sick, you have nothing to blame but your own poor preparation. Good day.”

He turns to gauge his father’s reaction, but a voice rings out, snatching his attention back.

“You know nothing of darkness.”

It’s the girl with the strange silver hair, her eyes milky-white with blindness more visible now as she steps out of her father’s grasp into a beam of light falling through the window. She smiles, and he feels his blood begin to boil as she continues. “You know nothing of pain, or suffering, and therefore you know nothing of the world. You cannot govern that which you do not know, and it will be your downfall.”

Her voice is soft, but he could not be struck more dumb if she had shouted. His mouth hangs open for a moment.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” he hisses, rising from his seat even as the old man pulls the girl back hurriedly. “Do you not comprehend who I am? How much power I have over you? What I could do to you?”

The old man is stammering apologies, all insolence wiped from his face now, but it is too little, too late. He chances a look at his father, who is frowning but making no move to intervene. Perfect.

“In fact,” he says, emboldened by the knowledge that he truly has been entrusted with power over these two miserable creatures at least. “I think a display of insolence like yours should be made an example of. I won’t stand for it, before or after I inherit this estate.”

The old man starts begging, pleading, knowing what’s about to come, but he holds up a hand and two guards stride forward to silence him. They pull him struggling away from the girl who now stands alone, blind and with no one to guide her. The chamber falls silent. He sits down once more, taking a moment to adjust his gown before leaning forward, savouring the weight of the words on his tongue.

“You’re going to die come winter anyway, according to your father. I’m simply speeding up the process.”

He smiles widely, baring his teeth like a wolf.

“Take her to be hanged.”

***

He’ll be reprimanded for this later, he knows that. But it’s not as though his father will make a scene here in court by jumping to the rescue of this one peasant girl, and besides, she was the last straw in an utterly miserable day. In his mind hanging is a perfectly reasonable punishment, and it will at least mean the evening will be at least partly salvaged with some mild entertainment.

He leans back, waiting for the inevitable screaming and wailing and begging that usually follows a proclamation like this.

But it never comes.

Instead, the peasant girl looks him in the eye, and says his name.

Well, almost says it. She gets stuck on the first syllable, her pretty little mouth curving in all the wrong ways, lips turning out when they should be turning in. Truth be told, she’s butchering it, really, and he almost laughs. ‘Grinpayne’, as though she can’t even speak-

She says it again, insistent, and he frowns. This is not how it is supposed to go. She is supposed to scream and cry and struggle, fighting his soldiers as they drag her out into the streets where she belongs, and instead she’s ruining it all, standing there so brazenly and butchering a perfectly good lordly name-

Grinpayne, says Dea.

He freezes.

Her name is Dea.

The girl he knows, the girl he loves. The girl he has just ordered to be executed.

Her name is Dea.

His world explodes in pain, and he wakes up screaming.

***

For a short while after he wakes, all Grinpayne can focus on is agony. With nothing to numb it besides Dea’s calming voice and tight grip on his trembling hands, the pain is excruciating, but it passes relatively quickly. He’s growing stronger, faster now at recovering than those first few weeks after they’d left Catherine Palace; weeks that Grinpayne barely remembers and Dea refuses to talk about; weeks where the pain had been so bad he’d struggled even to breathe for hours at a time. Now, it is only a few minutes before his nerves stop screaming and he’s able to unclench his taut muscles slightly, to relax a little into Dea’s patient embrace. She brushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and presses a kiss there before resting her own brow against his and nuzzling his nose, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“What did you dream of?” she breathes, and he shudders slightly. He’d been so focused on fighting the wave of pain that he’d almost forgotten the hideous vision he’d been ripped from.

“I was a lord.” He says slowly, and she laughs softly.

“You are a lord,” she reminds him, but he grimaces, shaking his head and pulling away from her a little.

“I dreamed that I… that I grew up as a lord. In a palace. My parents were alive, and I’d never been cut, and I…” he trails off, unable to voice it. Dea frowns.

“And you...?” She prompts gently

He allows himself to look at her, the moonlight lighting her hair up silvery white. She is almost otherworldly in her beauty, an angel in the bed of a monster, and it cuts him to his core.

“I was so cruel” he whispers, the word lodging in his throat and breaking as it comes out. “I was spoilt and petulant, and…”

She takes his hand in hers, raising it to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his knuckles.

“What happened, Grinpayne?” She asks, her voice not a breath above a murmur. He swallows.

“You came to ask us for help, you and Ursus, to ask for aid after a poor harvest, and my father instructed me to make the decision, and I… I said…”

He can’t repeat it, he can’t tell her what he did, but she’s waiting, so lovely in the moonlight, so trusting, and he never could lie to her. He takes a shaking breath, closing his eyes and realising as he does so that his lashes are wet.

“I sentenced you to hang, Dea. Because I was bored, because I could. I-” his breath catches, a sob choking him. He opens his eyes, forcing himself to look at the pained face of his love as a stray tear slips over the jagged grooves of his cheek. “I executed you.”

She shakes her head; a tiny movement in the dark of their room.

“My love, it was just a dream. I’m right here.”

“But what if that’s what I would have become?” he hisses, desperate for her to understand for once the beast that he’s always known he must be, the monster everyone else can see slashed across his face as plain as day. “If I’d grown up in the court, who’s to say I wouldn’t have been like that? Who’s to say I wouldn’t have done that to you?”

“You would never have been a man like that, Grinpayne.” She says firmly, gripping his hands more tightly in her own. “Your parents were good people, they would have raised you to be a fair ruler-”

“My parents lived on an estate while people like your mother froze in the snow, Dea, I inherited a castle for god’s sake-”

“Your parents were killed because they fought that system, Grinpayne!” She interrupts, her voice rising as she refuses to allow him to talk over her. “They were kind and fair and just; everyone who knew them has told us so. You of all people should know titles aren’t everything, Grinning Man. Don’t discredit their memory because of their position. ”

She reaches up and cradles his cheek in her hand, and he can’t stop himself leaning into her touch, even as guilt rages through him. She wipes her thumb over his cheekbone, frowning unhappily at the wetness she finds there. “Your only experience of the court was at Catherine Palace.” She says slowly, firmly, as though teaching something to a small child. “The people you met there were spoiled and thoughtless because they were the children of an awful man, the man your parents died fighting, and even his children were made better by meeting you.” She moves her hand from his cheek to press against his bare chest, right over his heart.

“You’re a good man, Grinpayne. In this life and in every life.”

He says nothing, not trusting himself to speak as she shifts forward and pulls him into her embrace. He tries to resist, but her touch is intoxicating and he can’t help himself; he ducks his head and curls into her like a child, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck as she runs her fingers through his hair soothingly, teasing out the tangles in his curls. After a while she gently shifts them both down in the bed so that they’re lying flat once more, limbs entwining automatically. He traces the edge of her jaw with his finger. She is so beautiful.

“I will never deserve you, Dea. In any life.”

She silences him with a kiss, and it is softness and kindness and goodness in a single touch. When sleep takes them both once again he dreams not of palaces or princes but of her, his Beauty, his love, his own soul. In this life. In every life. For ever.

#the grinning man #the grinning man fic #tgm fic #is this a lil ooc? Maybe #was it fun to write? absolutely #gwynplaine trelaw #grinpayne #dea tgm

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cesabutterflywrites · 4 years

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When One Meets An Angel

Part [1] in An Angel’s Smile Series

“At first I didn’t want to fall in love. But at one point you just smiled at me and here I am.”

Summary: Janus Ethan Dannecker starts college with only a box, backpack, $300, and a ton of emotional baggage that is overwhelming. The broken home he came from cast a shadow on him that he refused to let anyone see. The scars on his body were no match for the scars on his soul. He made it his mission to never let anyone see where he came from. See what he was really made of. See how messed up he would always be.

That is, until Patton Mavers smiled at him. Ao3 [Next Part] [Spotify Playlist]

Word Count: 2184

Story Warnings: past abusive childhood, angst, untreated/undiagnosed mental illness symptoms, detailed descriptions of abuse, cursing, implied/referenced substance abuse. Rated M for Mature audiences. Let me know if I need to add more, and read with caution!

When One Meets An Angel

Janus Ethan Dannecker was not good with honesty. He’d been through a lot of shit since the very beginning of his life. He found it easier to lie about everything because honesty caused harm. Honesty hurts. Exposure had the potential to be abused. It was not something he could risk. Not anymore.

He still felt, though. God, did he feel. So much so that he wished his lies were true. Every “I’m fine,” that fell from his lips so easily were secretly wishes that it would be a reality. Each time he was forced to give a smile he hoped the next one would be genuine.

For the first day of his new life, he wasn’t dressed for the part.

Janus was wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath a thick, large yellow-and-black flannel that he got for a bargain at Goodwill. His jeans weren’t purposefully ripped, but they were five dollars. He wore his only beanie-a black piece with red text reading ‘Skyline Titans’. His shoes were new. He splurged to get sturdy combat boots that he hoped would work for his first winter with snow.

The beanie was comfortable on his brunet hair. It had gotten too long, seeing as he couldn’t afford a haircut. He had struggled to tuck his bangs to fit underneath the hat without it falling off. It was a fight he eventually lost.

His pace was slow as he walked up to his dorm room for the first time. He watched the students milling about with their families carrying boxes full of remnants from their childhoods. He felt a pang of loneliness as he carried his one box of the bare necessities of life.

He had his backpack, one box of the absolute necessities, and 300$ to his name to start the beginnings of college. He didn’t have much to bring from his childhood home. Well, if you could call it a home.

He finally reached his dorm room door. It was open, so he could see into the space he’d call home for at least a year. From where he stood outside the doorway he saw a Green Day poster, a purple blanket with an orange spider pattern, and the shoulder of the person who was most likely his roommate.

The band poster was a bit too angsty for his tastes, but he’d learn to live with it if his roommate used headphones for his music. The blanket was obviously a comfort item from how worn down it looked. The person who owned the shoulder was laughing, causing the arm to shake.

Getting a read on someone was not only easy, it was necessary. He’d be stuck with this person for a year. It was his first time living with someone outside of his...family. He would have to create a whole new persona to keep up for a year. Of course, he knew this ahead of time. He didn’t want to be vulnerable because of his past.

Janus didn’t want his negative outlook to overwhelm the person he’d be living with. He needed to gather himself first. He took in a deep breath. He made sure to rearrange his mask enough to be a perfectly polite person on the outside. It should have concerned him how quickly he was able to put it on in a new environment. How easy it was to scream in the mind without making a sound in the world.

He walked in with a forcefully reserved smile that quickly dropped when he saw there were two other people in the small room. One of them was sitting on what would be his bed.

The boy on his bed was beautiful. He looked like the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll. His wavy blond hair fell in his face perfectly with a blue streak in the bangs. He wore large, circular glasses that seemed too heavy for his face. He had freckles splattered underneath the frames which spread down his cheeks and up to his temples. The eyes behind the glasses looked like pieces of green jade. They were bright companions to the pink lips that were pulled at the corners in laughter.

Janus seriously wondered if love at first sight was true; when the love came from the first glimpse of an angel’s smile.

He averted his gaze from the angel to look at the people in the room. There was a tall lad leaning against the desk underneath the window. He had strawberry blond hair, which was a reasonable length on top while being recently shaved along the sides of his head. His grin was also beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as the one that belonged to the perfect stranger on his bed. He had blue eyes that seemed to be teasing at potential mischief. He looked like the type to have owned a Letterman jacket in high school. Tall, muscular, probably a jock of some sorts.

The third person in his room was definitely his roommate, which was a given with the emo interior Janus had seen so far. His smirk was playful as he looked at the redhead. He had shaggy, shoulder length, purple hair that fell over his eyes enough to cover one of them. His black nose ring flashed in the sunlight coming from the window. He was wearing a black hoodie with sewn purple patches. His eyes were such a dark brown they looked black. He looked like an adult living a seventh grade emo student’s dream.

Janus would have found him intimidating if it weren’t for the fact that he had dealt with scarier people in his life.

The laughter had died down when they saw him standing in the middle of the room holding the one large box. They all seemed to notice him at the same time.

“Oh, I’m on your bed. Here, let me get up so you can set your things down.” The angel offered politely. His voice was heavenly. Janus wanted to throw the nerves of the day away to just listen to that voice wash the dirt off of his tarnished soul. Which felt silly, confusing, and terrifying.

Janus muttered a soft “Thanks” as he tried to control his blush.

He was rarely caught off guard, and it was a miracle that this surprise was such a pleasant one. He had been expecting his roommate to have parents accompanying him, not two cute boys. This was a deviation from his expectations.

“I’m Patton!” the angel, named Patton, introduced himself enthusiastically. He offered his hand out swiftly, with that bright smile still on his beautiful face. His blue streaked bangs fell into his eyes.

“I’m Janus,” he took the hand and barely hid the reaction of sparks shooting up his arm. He was used to burying feelings. Yet these were a struggle to choke down. They were good feelings. Positive reactions to a familiar action. He hoped that he was covering the sound of his rapid heartbeat well enough.

“Janis, what are you, a middle school librarian?” the redhead giggled out. He covered his mouth quickly when Patton gave him a stern look.

Janus just smirked. “No, more like a Roman god,” he let his voice drip with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t his first time being mistaken for ‘Janis’ when introducing himself.

“Oh, what a coincidence! Janus, this is Roman.” Patton nudged his blushing companion. Janus wondered to himself if he was laying on the cheer thick to embarrass Roman about the insensitive remark. Roman glanced down in embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you, Roman.” Janus replied amicably. He reached his hand out to shake, hoping to communicate that all was well. He didn’t have any intent to hold resentment between himself and someone else on his first day.

Roman shook his hand and nodded to the black clad lad who was rolling his eyes at the interaction that had just happened in front of him. Roman let go and gestured dramatically at the boy. “And that little Emo Nightmare is Virgil!”

“‘Sup,” Virgil saluted lazily with two of his fingers. Janus saluted back with a tight grin.

Janus turned to his backpack to start unpacking. He had expected the three to continue the conversation they were having before he interrupted with his arrival. However, a warm hand reached out in front of him. He jumped at the sudden movement.

“Sorry,” Patton took his hand away. He made his tone extra warm, “I was just going to offer to help you unpack, since we’re already helping out Virgil.” The freckles on his face nearly disappeared as his face flushed red with embarrassment.

“No, thank you,” Janus replied politely, though his voice was gruff from his tightened throat. He forced himself to plaster on a smile. “I’m fine.”

It felt wrong to lie to an angel. However the words had already left his mouth out of habit.

Patton shrugged, then glanced at the other two boys in the room. “Hey Roman, you wanna work with Virgil while I work with Janus?”

Janus held back a pleased gasp when his name was uttered by those pink lips, in that soft voice, in the small room that was his new home. He let some of his surprise leak through as Patton insisted on helping him out. He couldn’t form a reply so he watched as the angel got started.

He was grateful for the help; especially if it meant more attention from the angel. The two of them worked together as they put away the small amount of things Janus brought with him. They finished before Virgil and Roman had, though that had less to do with Janus not having much to unpack, and more to do with Virgil interrupting Roman with nuzzles along his neck.

Janus grimaced. It was slightly uncomfortable to be witness to such pure, light energy. He hadn’t seen this much positivity since...ever, really. Public displays of affection always sat wrong within him. Perhaps it was because he knew he would never feel that feeling. Nevertheless, it was pretty hard for him to keep his composure with the happy giggles coming from the couple.

Patton seemed to have read his face well, because he clapped his hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Alrighty then, boys, I think we worked out plenty of what we needed to get done today. Whaddya all say to going out to dinner? My treat.”

Roman didn’t hesitate. “I’ll go to our room and grab our jackets!” He ran out the room with a haste that reminded Janus of an excited puppy.

Virgil smiled at his boyfriend’s retreating form. “You know, he may be annoying, but he’s also pretty cute when he’s excited.”

Janus fiddled with the covers of his bed while he sat. He didn’t want to intrude on their time together. Having someone pay for his dinner felt wrong. He didn’t really deserve it. Plus, he hadn’t planned on eating dinner at all that night. Food was a privilege that he didn’t deserve more of after his breakfast that morning. Well, that was what he would have been told if he had still been living at home.

Patton grinned at him when he didn’t speak up. “You gonna join us, Jan? I’ll cover you too if need be.” He sounded so genuine in his offer.

How could he say no to that face? “I’d love to,” he replied honestly. He couldn’t hide his blush at the response he uttered quickly. What was he doing?

“Awesome! I’m going to go to my room to make sure Roman doesn’t get too ahead of us,” Patton shook his head playfully. “Virgil, make sure to bring Jan. We’re gonna head to Leo’s.”

“Damn, Pat, you win the lottery or something?” Virgil asked with wide eyes. Janus grasped from the context that this place was expensive. His stomach fell at that notion.

He really didn’t want to go if he would cost too much money. He started to make plans in his head about looking for the least expensive item to order, or maybe just getting water and making an excuse for not being hungry. Were they offering to be polite, hoping he’d say no? He did well to hide his rapidly increasing guilt while he watched the two friends talk.

Patton giggled. “I wish,” he winked, “No, I just saved a bit of extra money for our first night at college.” Patton waved at both of the boys as he left.

Virgil stood up with a groan. “Knowing Roman, he’s probably bouncing excitedly and I’ll get bombarded with a million texts at once asking why we're taking so long” He chuckled, then noticed that his roommate was still sitting. “You gonna get ready, roomie?”

Janus bit his lip. “I dunno, if it’s too expensive I don’t want to intrude.”

Virgil barked out a laugh. “Don’t worry about that, I was teasing Pat. He’s good to cover you.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll grab my coat.” Janus forced a relaxed grin on his face while inside his mind the anxious screaming grew louder.

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this or any of my other stories!

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hollywoodhangar · 4 years

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5 things!

Tagged by: @silvcrreaper! thank you, dear! :’D this is a really cute meme! I’ll probably use it again in the future bc of that tbh. I’d like to do a lotta characters. Tagging: @mettatoniic / @corviudex, @wcrldlyadventures, @tcthinecwnself, @scwewywcbbit, @wabbitseezun, @couragelinked, @contractualsarcasm, @heedingcalls, @bloominghands, @fairestfall, @blackstardiopside / @hellhogged, & you!

doing this for red’s hardcore over-a-year fixation seriously this woman owns my ass at this point hhggh this thing got way too long!!

CLAUDIA P.

5 THINGS YOU’LL FIND ON HER PERSON.

Her mother's broken pearl necklace. It's very near and dear to her, she's held onto it like a security blanket as well as a trinket for luck & protection ever since Lord Phantomhive whisked her away to the estate. She keeps them safely tucked away in one of her hidden skirt pockets! Those of supernatural origin that are able to detect magical objects can sense there is a Divine blessing on it; it’ll never be lost to Claudia, and those who mean her ill-intent will have their hands burn when they grab at it - almost like they stuck their hand in flames. It’s a precious thing that Máire [ her mother ] has long since used in her prayers specifically to Brigid ever since she was twelve, so it’s instilled with her blessing!

Her axe. Even when she’s retired, the Countess keeps her silver axe on her person just the same; tucked away in its renewed sheathe that’s hidden under a flap on the back of her dress [ fun headcanon: while undertaker takes his sotoba up from the top of his collar, she pulls her axe down from below ]. Divine magic also touches this weapon; a blessing from the Morrígan in which the blade is kept heinously sharp so long as she gets some sip her blood tribute, absorbing the splatter and gore through the axe’s silver surface and leaving it pristine. Should too long go by without it having a taste of blood it will begin to dull rapidly for the amount of years its gone untouched, but fortunately the Phantomhives never seem to run short of assassins, hitmen and abductors. Her Divine continues to be pleased.

An emerald poison ring. Silver, classy and adorned with the head of a wolf opening its maw to hold a shiny emerald. No one'd expect such a beautiful big gem hides such a heinous poison beneath! It looks pretty neat when she pops it open and the poison pours out of the wolf’s mouth.

[ Enchanted ] Skeleton key. A simple-looking golden key with hidden runes that activate when inserted into magical locks its made for, but it functions like a normal key as well. This key will open absolutely any door in the Phantomhive manor [ unless Sebastian’s room has the same thing going on! ] as well as the invisible locks she has guarding her forest altar. This is also the only thing that will open all doors leading into her bedroom [ the hallway and the balcony ] as those locks are spellbound to react to only the key itself. Vincent’s always tried to pick his way in but could never quite achieve it! I like to think he inherited his mother’s mischievously nosy curiosity.

Her black choker with a deep green brooch embedded in its middle. It hides the scar paved along her throat from the attempted assassination. Don’t want anyone seeing that, especially not family. v_v

5 THINGS YOU’LL FIND IN HER ROOM.

Her bed, of course! Mahogany framed. It’s enormous, as to be expected for a Countess. It’s extremely soft, easy to sink into and piled with many lace-ended pillows. Heavy, wool-knitted beige blankets lay over the very top, plush to the touch and covering the white and green sheets beneath it. Deep green curtains with leaf embroidery are tied to the bed posts with dark brown rope, and close all around the bed when Claudia turns in for the night -- except for the curtains at the foot. Those stay partially open to absorb the heat from the fireplace. As for the back of the bed, she built it herself! It has an enormous, full-length mirror installed into its wooden frame and a long, smooth surface below for convenience. It has two lamps at both ends that are within reach.

Lovely mannequins. Rested next to the balcony are two simple manniquens. One is the bearer of her Brigid cloak, the hood pulled up and draped over to obsfuscate the face. Its arms are stretched forwards, hands splayed up with the ceremonial cloth and ropes used for Claudia’s handfasting ceremony; the pearls that were wrapped around all that hanging from its neck. Opposite of that is the other manniquen. Covered with a deep, dark duster, a peasant blouse, tight black pants and thigh-high boots give off a familiar visage of the Countess during her Watchdog days. Around its waist hangs a very intricate rich brown leather belt with lots of slots in it, weaponized chatelaines and satchels with golden clasps - and a golden wolf head as the buckle in front center.

Secret compartments. Many secret locked compartments in the walls she installed herself [ ^ that can only be opened by aforementioned skeleton key, or a very determined and powerful supernatural force ], hidden behind landscape portraits and animal print wall tapestries. She keeps various things in them: Tonics & Poisons. These are very rare breeds of both, being highly efficient in what they’re made for specifically. There’s vials of strange-looking gnarled roots and various colored liquids stored in here as well, along with herbs (??) hanging from the top. Inheritance. The late Lord Phantomhive left Claudia a fortune, most of which she sent to charity, but kept her own sum for emergencies sake. But that is not all he left her; there’s a small pile of letters, some opened, some remaining closed with different seals. There’s also an envelope in here for Claudia specifically, opened and re-sealed. What’s inside is information concerning safe passage to a number of locations and a list of names. Near the very end, the Lord gave Claudia a way out if she ever felt the need to flee from the Phantomhive title; she’s the only blood left. He would not hold it against her to forfeit the Watchdog title, he’d be dead - he has no reason to care for anything at that point. It’s a very bittersweet gift Claudia’s gone back and forth more than once and plans to hand down to the Undertaker “if I go before he does”. She trusts him to hold onto it and give to any Phantomhive who starts feeling pushed to the brink. Altars. A small altar for each of her Goddesses exists in the walls, in twin compartments side-by-side, their doors marked with the carvings of an anvil and a raven. Brigid’s altar is warm, decorated with handmade trinkets and rolled up drawings. The Morrígan’s is dark, positively dark and dimly lit with this very small icy blue lantern that hangs from the top, and the rest of it is decorated with fans fastened from raven feathers and odd white-crimson candles -- that contain her own blood. Memonto Mori. Death has been embraced around Claudia for so much of her life, so she’s dedicated her own reminder of that in a “.. yet I survived” way. Mementos from the Famine in the form of mothbitten fabric from the nightgown she wore that entire time and a lock of hair that had fallen out, from the first attempt on her life by a kidnapper in the form of the rusting gun he had and the bottled flesh & muscle she tore from his throat that earned her the title “Wolf of Winchester” among the Aristocrats of Evil, from the nigh successful assassination in the form of the bloodied gown fabric and pressed white roses that wear dried crimson on their petals. There is nothing for the Phantomhive Fire. This rebuilt manor is a jarring memento mori of its own now.

Cherry wood bookcases. It is stacked with books of worldwide mythology, folklore, natural remedies, strange leatherbacks, and lots of journals Claudia’s written personally over the years. There’s pictures of loved ones wrapped in oval-shaped, polished wooden frames, a lot of old wooden toys she made for her progeny that they’ve grown out of, a black onyx hand with all fingers lined with rings she made herself and holding an ornate athame. Currently, “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus” sits with a long brown & white feather serving as a bookmarker.

Urns. Three very precious porcelain urns that are specifically customized to fit the lives they belonged to: Vincent, Rachel, and Claudia’s seven hounds. While she drew the designs for Vincent and her hounds, she let Rachel’s parents decide how they wanted their daughter’s urn handled. She passed the drawings to the Undertaker and he made them to perfection. They rest on the previously mentioned bookshelf, side-by-side in a very gorgeous center display, with fresh white roses, rosemary, gladiolus & lilies from the garden surrounding them and small lanterns constantly providing a low, gentle golden light. There’s candles that have been melted to their hilts and others that are brand new.

5 THINGS THAT MAKE HER HAPPY.

DOGS.

Mythology. Mythology and folklore have always been incredibly fascinating to her! They can easily eat hours away as she delves herself into learning more and more about them and re-reading the ones she already knows.

Family. I've said it once, I've said it twice, Claudia's a woman who adores to be surrounded by family. Her attempts to convince the Midfords to join with the Phantomhive household have gone shot down by both her grandson and her daughter. One day she’ll prevail. One day. She won’t but she can dream of having a full house again, let her dream.

The countryside. Honestly, the fact they live here instead of in the city was something of an immense comfort to Claudia because it’s a little reminscent of Donegal. She regularly takes Gelert for a walk and finds a nice green pasture to just sit in for a while and enjoy the wind. It brings such a huge wash of calm and relief and what she turns to when feeling absolutely stressed, anxious or angry. Her natural dopamine hit!

Sweets. The Countess has a bad sweet tooth like her grandson and loves to eat sweet things, including things of her own baking and creating! Wave any delectable sugary sweet before her face and you have her attention - not her compliance, but her attention. [ 1v1 phantomhive discourse is continuously stealing the other’s treats. she doesn’t even recall who started it but it is an on-going War. ]

5 THINGS SHE'S CURRENTLY INTO.

Infinite woodworking! She has several projects going on at the moment, one being a boat and another being a marionette bitter rabbit she’s eventually going to get around to painting. Both gifts!

Foraging. Sure she can easily send the servants to buy this stuff from the market, but she likes to retrieve them herself. There’s a lot of berries and edible/medicinal plants in season right now and she’s pretty happy about that. :) Mulberries galore.

Reading. Very good exercise for her brain as she’s getting a little more forgetful in her old age, so keeping it busy with things like this strengthens her mentally. At the moment she’s not only reading Frankenstein, but she’s also reading about Japan mythology! That, and about strange monsters & creatures encountered at sea, actual accounts taken down by the author of the book who interviewed many-a sailor.

Hunting. Not only does it give her a grand excuse to get out of the manor, but she needs to keep her archery sharp and Gelert in shape.

Summer Games. Speaking of which, she has a title to defend! Sporting events are beginning to ramp up and the Phantomhive name continues to hold first place in the Archery branch, much to the chagrin of many who try their aim & speed against the Countess And Lose. Also, the events are always a bunch of fun to take part in - she’s dragging along anyone available.

5 THINGS THINGS ON HER TO-DO LIST.

Finish the on-going "Misfortune's Way" Funtom board game with Ciel. [ Ciel: 9. Claudia: 9. Neck-to-neck. Who Will Win? ]

Continue work on the boat she's created for the Midfords. She needs to finish carving their family crest into the right side of it and hollow out the rest of the bow. So much work to be done! But four months of blood, sweat and tears are going to pay off. :)

Fix that TERRIBLY painful floorboard her foot keeps hitting. It's been on this list for about a week now. She keeps forgetting or gets sidetracked! She’s getting a bruise. :( [ have tanaka do it? no no, she lets that poor man rest now. have sebastian do it? not a chance. "Are ya daft!? I ain't about to have that damned vulture creepin' about my own private quarters." ]

Pack up Tanaka, cook some food [ avoid bard. he always offers, she always declines after he set a strawberry cobbler she requested on fire right before her own eyes, and then proceeded to catch a portion of the kitchen on fire. she was so stunned she didn’t even notice Sebastian come in and bat out the flames LMAO. ], make some tea and head out with Gelert to her favorite spot to chill in the countryside and soak up the rays of Summer. She’s been so much colder than normal lately and needs to a b s o r b s u n. It’s Summer! She shouldn’t be freezing this much! [ although it is funny to put her hand on the back of people’s necks when they complain about the heat and watch them flip ]

Commune with the Goddesses at her forest altar. Bring the landscape painting she’s done for Brigid, bring the bloodied clothes of a fallen enemy for The Morrígan.

#♈ [ CLAUDIA; HEADCANON. ] ━ 『 the wolf of winchester. 』#♈ [ BLOG; OOC. ] ━ 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!#tagged.#(( these little SOL memes are so good I love 'em. thank you tick. :D ))#long post

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moonnfairie · 5 years

Text

defying gravity | ch 2

defying gravity, chapter 2

genre: angel!jimin, soulmate au

pairing: reader x jimin

word count: 6,011

warnings: slightly aggressive drunken behavior

summary: Your life had been a series of events that you had to face alone, leaving you to lead an independent yet lonely life. Come the day of your birthday, things take an unexpected turn given a twist of fate and an encounter with your saving grace, someone who just happens to be your angel in disguise.

ch 1 / ch 2 / ch 3

He’s staring at you with wide eyes for a few seconds, as if he’s discovered something the world has yet to find, then shortly after, his eyes shrink into crescent moons and displays a perfectly beautiful smile with his plump lips. You’re practically breathless at the sight, frozen like a deer in headlights. Thank god you closed your register or else people behind him would be yelling at your face to come back to Earth by now.

With a quick deep breath, Jimin’s expression changes yet again into something so gentle, so sweet, as he gets closer to where you stand and says

“These must belong to you then.”

“I’m sorry?”

Did you hear that correctly?

You step back aghast, turning the other way to hide the heat that crawls up your face. Is this insanely ethereal man, let alone insanely ethereal stranger, just messing with you?

Noticing he might’ve been too forward, Jimin nervously giggles while running a hand through his hair. “No, I’m sorry, miss-” he squints to read your name tag “-Y/N. I guess I have a thing or two to learn about appropriate pick up lines.”

He leans down and tilts his head in attempts to make eye contact with you, frowning at the still flustered expression on your face. “I promise I’m not a stalker or anything of the sort. I just” he pauses and takes a deep breath “think you’re very beautiful.”

You must be dreaming, right? To have Mr. Gorgeous walk into your grocery store, on your birthday, and even call you beautiful at first sight? Thank god you decided to get your eyebrows done yesterday, it has really made all the difference in your luck.

You stutter in response, “Well, I certainly appreciate it, and I didn’t find you to be a stalker or anything, at least from what my instincts tell me.” At this, you crack a smile, and Jimin’s eye smile returns, relieved.

“But before we get into anything,” you continue “I should probably ring these flowers up for you so you can really give them to whoever it belongs to.”

“I was in every way serious when I said they were for you, Y/N.”

Despite how wildly your heart is beating at this strange encounter, it’s as if his voice soothes your soul, calming your worries away. Did he really come here for your sake to give you flowers that just so happen to be your favorite color?

“I, uh, well” you close your eyes and heavily sigh. You really have to get yourself together. “Thank you so much…” your voice trails off as you look to him quizzically, realizing you don’t even know this man’s name.

“Jimin” he finishes, as if sensing just what you needed to hear.

“Right, thank you Jimin” you say with a bright smile that sends a rush of warmth all throughout his body. He hasn’t quite seen a smile as radiant as yours, and he revels in the fact that he gets to stare at yours in his remaining time on Earth.

After what seems like an eternity of staring into each other’s souls, you remember to pick up the bouquet, scan the barcode, watch Jimin’s delicately deft fingers reach into his wallet and slide his card through the machine, and hand the flowers back to him.

“I can’t be handed merchandise from behind the counter, so…” you meet Jimin at the end of the conveyor belt, as he gently places the purple roses back into your hands, making sure not to hurt you with any thorns.

Abruptly, Jimin speaks out, “I’m just going to go out on a limb here but… I’d love to see you again. Maybe I could take you out to dinner tonight? Or rather, any time that you were free, of course.”

You started giggling to yourself, noticing how flustered Jimin was also getting in return of your interactions.

Jimin knows he has one job, one that doesn’t require taking his soulmate on dinner dates, but there is a compelling force to you that’s driving his heart insane. It’s as if he wants to do more for you, as much as he can for you, just so you can be genuinely and wholeheartedly happy.

You nearly blurted out a big fat “Yes,” but your mind defogged at the mere thought of your best friend, Taehyung. As much as you’d love to be swept off of your feet by the mysterious yet intriguing godsend that is Jimin, you can’t even imagine leaving your one and only friend in the dust when he had made plans in honor of you.

“Jimin, I sincerely appreciate just how kind you’re being to me right now, and I’m insanely flattered, but I actually have birthday plans with my best friend tonight. Would you maybe like to do Friday night instead?”

Three whole days? You weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse to wait so long, but you didn’t want to come off too needy, so that would do. On the other hand, it would hinder Jimin’s trial to have to wait three days for you, but maybe he could make it work.

“Sounds good to me, Y/N. I’ll be seeing you then.” Jimin takes your free hand to kiss the back of it, and smiles ever so sweetly at you, your heart exploding with fireworks in your chest. All you could do was stare as he walked past you and outside the automatic sliding doors. You blink a couple times and clear your throat in attempts to gain your bearings, screeching as you turn around to immediately find Namjoon stood in front of you instead, grinning.

“What was that about? I’ve never seen you so expressive before” he says while chuckling loudly, drawing attention by your coworkers nearby.

“Oh, what, that? Nothing, it was nothing. Just a random guy, giving me flowers, on my birthday, no big deal.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrow at you accusingly. “A random guy doesn’t just give you flowers coincidentally, Y/N. Do you even know him?”

You gulp, and Namjoon notices the apprehensive look on your face. “Hey hey, I’m not here to lecture you or anything, but that’s pretty cool, I guess. Seemed like he really had a thing for you.”

“Did he? Really? Maybe, I don’t know…”

Namjoon grins at you again, reaching to pat you on the back before turning and walking back to the offices. “From the looks of things, I’d say you’re done for the day. Feel free to head out and enjoy the rest of your special day, bud.”

You can only nod and word a breathless “thank you” back at him before running to the break room and gathering your things so you can head home to get ready for tonight.

Despite how gloomy it had gotten outside while you were working, you still had quite the spring in your step and the feeling of joy radiating off of you as if you were the sun itself. Before entering your complex, you receive a series of text messages:

Tae

[4:47 PM] hey you

[4:48 PM] called you earlier but i guess you were still workin

[4:48 PM] just letting you know!!! that you’re NOT bailing on me tonight

[4:49 PM] and that i’m getting you DRUNK and we’re gonna go apeshit

[4:50 PM] also we’re going to have so much fun uwu

[4:51 PM] look like a bad bitch tho you never know who we’ll see ;)

[4:52 PM] ok n e ways see you soon love you bitch

You’re wheezing by the time you reach your door, turning your keys in the lock to find yourself in your empty apartment once again. Yet, for some reason, it doesn’t feel as empty today. At least you get to be out of here for the night. You slip your shoes off and walk through your spacious living room to plop onto your bouncy mattress in your bedroom, turning on your back and holding your phone up to the ceiling to respond to your best friend.

[4:59 PM] yeah, yeah shut up, i already know

[5:00 PM] best believe i’m lookin mighty fine tonight

[5:00 PM] i’m just gonna hop in the shower and all that jazz and i’ll see you tonight

You smile from ear to ear, remembering just how thankful you are to have one solid friend in your life to care about you as much as Taehyung does to be with you today and every day.

[5:02 PM] thank you again, taehyung

Tae

[5:04 PM] what, youre getting sappy on me now?

[5:05 PM] save it for when we’re drunk dude!

[5:05 PM] … but youre welcome. you already know i love you.

[5:07 PM] hey, save it for when we’re drunk!

[5:07 PM] … but i love you too

[5:08 PM] lol

At this, you plug your phone in to charge as you walk to your bathroom and take a much needed hot shower.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt this lighthearted. It could be all the interaction you’ve had today, considering when you normally go to work you try to cut all socializing to an insanely low minimum, but for once in your life you feel special, important, and wanted. You know, aside from the days Taehyung declares his undying love and affection for you and bugs you every time you deny a movie night at his place all because his roommate that can’t seem to stop ogling at you every time you’re there, but to know that some mysteriously handsome guy apparently has eyes for you too, has your stomach turning in excitement.

You keep thinking back to the moment you met eyes with him earlier, how sweet and warm his voice sounded when he told you that you were beautiful to him, and how his gaze seemed to draw you into him so effortlessly, almost tantalizingly over all the emotions that rushed to you in that exact moment. You want to dwell on the feeling, revel in the butterflies that float around in your stomach for hours thinking about seeing him on friday, but something switches on inside your brain as you realize one thing:

How were you supposed to meet again with no means of contacting him?

Before much thought could be put into creating a game plan of seeing Jimin again, your phone vibrates in spurts, signaling that Taehyung must be outside. You run to your mirror one last time to brush through your hair and smile at the reflection in front of you. You’re genuinely so excited and ready to spend your birthday with the one you love.

Walking to the designated pickup area of your complex, you see Taehyung leaning against a familiar grey civic, laughing at the confused expression that now colors your face all over.

“Ah, you didn’t tell me Jungkook was tagging along” you try to say cheerfully, but Taehyung sees right through you and pats your back rather aggressively to stop you from saying anything further.

“Indeed I didn’t, because he’s not! He was so kind to come along and drop us off. An act of kindness for your dear birthday, Y/N.” At this statement, you smile softly, crouching over to make eye contact with Jungkook in the driver’s seat. He meets your eyes quickly, grinning wildly and waving his hand frantically. You were honestly incredibly thankful for the gesture, but knew his intentions were always filled with something more, as he has always been into you from the moment you first set foot in Taehyung’s shared apartment.

Pushing these thoughts aside, however, you decide to just live in the moment and accept all the kindness you’ve gotten in one year’s worth on this very day alone. “After you, princess” Taehyung boldly declares while opening the passenger door for you, your face scrunching at his obnoxiously loud volume, and hand reaching up to pinch his cheek “You are so annoying and dumb but sweet. Thank you.”

Despite looking down into your seat while buckling up, you can’t help but feel Jungkook’s needy eyes roam your full figure, a notion you’d normally feel insulted by, but you realize he means no harm. He’s never seen you dressed up like this: tight fitting clothes, exposed collar bones, and heels, and even you seem to blush under his gaze.

“Alright Gguk, as much as you want to be staring at Y/N’s tits all night, we don’t have time for that. Let’s hit the road.” You turn around in your seat and slap Taehyung’s leg aggressively, causing him to laugh loudly in response and Jungkook to clear his throat while turning on the engine.

“Oh, don’t be such a dick Tae, and you” you sit turn to sit forward again, burning right through to Jungkook’s soul with your glare, “don’t stare at my tits and please drive safely. Thanks.”

Taehyung’s laughter is still dying down as Jungkook nods to turn on the stereo, but the air is still light knowing that’s the dynamic between you all. You’re pretty used to it by now considering most if not all of the people you interact with are men with their brains deep in the gutter.

Your favorite bar is in the heart of downtown, meaning it’s a little ways from where you live, but you really only go there on special occasions, and on nights like these, the boys really don’t mind. Through and through, you were a city girl, and if it weren’t for the insanely high price of living, you’d find yourself living in the apartment of your dreams overlooking the tall skyscrapers in the day and losing yourself in the city lights at night. To most people in your city, it was the same thing, different day, every day, but that wasn’t the case for you. You’ve managed to paint most of the town red, but there are still nooks and crannies that you have yet to uncover, and places you haven’t even hit just yet. It was like there was something about this side of the town that called to you. Something that had you longing for more, and you were absolutely determined to find out just what that was.

Pulling up to the curb, you groan at the sight of a short line at the entrance. “It’s literally a Tuesday evening, what are people doing at a bar?”

Taehyung sits forward, placing a big but gentle hand on your shoulder “literally the same exact thing we are.”

“Wow, you really got me there!” you shrug and state sarcastically, Jungkook giggling at your banter.

“Have fun tonight you guys, and happy birthday again Y/N!” You smile at him tentatively, feeling a little sad that he’s come all this way not to come with you. “Thank you, but are you sure you don’t want to grab just one drink?”

Before he could answer, Taehyung interjects “Nah, the dude has plans to play some tournament with some friends when he gets back. They’ll have their own fun.” Your gaze turns to Jungkook for confirmation, and he simply flashes a cute little bunny smile and nods.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and give Jungkook a quick hug, not noticing the way his face flushes pink before waving him goodbye and getting out of the car. Taehyung pats his shoulder next, thanking him then jumping out to meet you at the end of the line.

As much as you’d normally be impatient to wait in such a line, Taehyung passes the time by telling you about his artwork. At his university, two of his pieces have been chosen to be displayed at an exhibit of high prestige that buyers have the option to bid on. There is an amount of proceeds that go to the artists upon selling, but that was just a perk in the line of his work. He made pieces for the sole reason of creating art that spoke to him and those who got to see it. You even managed to snag a piece that he held onto dearly but ended up caving in and giving it to you at how much you loved it.

It reminded you of your mother.

It was an airy piece, but one still full of matter. It was light, it was delicate, and it was sweet. It made you feel calm, and it made you feel warm. It now sits above her recliner in your living room.

You finally make it to the front and are pleasantly surprised when the guard at the front even greets you a happy birthday. You smile and nod your thank you as you and Taehyung link arms and walk inside.

The bar is spacious yet relatively crowded for a Tuesday night, causing the temperature to rise from all the body heat, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The ceilings are high, decorated with modern sconces that illuminate a dim, warm light. The scene is a perfectly balanced mix of a traditionally modern bar scene, split on the bottom floor with a lounge area and the actual bar itself, and the top floor for reserved parties and table service.

You were about to make your way to your usual spot near the back walls before Taehyung pulled you back to look at the staircase over to your right. “Hey, come on, you’re getting that special treatment tonight” he says with a wink, and you try to hold back all urges to gag.

“Excuse me, what? Tae we can’t just sneak up there, they have a list-”

Your bickering comes to a halt as Taehyung speaks to the server who stands at the bottom of the steps. “Uh yeah, we have a reservation under Kim.”

The server eyes Taehyung from head to toe in an almost doubtful way, then scans the two paged list within his hands. You’re almost about to apologize for Taehyung’s behavior, but the server speaks up “Ah, Mr. Kim I presume?”

The way in which you glare at Taehyung has his boxy smile shine thru, and you can only loosen up and squeeze his broad shoulder in return.

“Right this way.”

The two of you carefully climb the spiral stairway, giggling at the awfully nice treatment you are getting. The server walks all the way towards the end, missing the booths for two completely into a booth that could fit at least a few more guests.

“The waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your evening.”

With only a quick bow, the server turns on his feet to find his way at the bottom of the stairway once again. You blink a few times in disbelief, before turning to face Taehyung who is seated across the table from you.

“Tae,” you start with a pout, and he tilts his head and smiles “you really didn’t have to do this. I already know how much this costs and I know you’ve been selling many pieces lately but-”

“Oh shut up, Y/N. It’s your birthday! You deserve it, and you already know I’ve been saving up to do something, anything, with you, so ta-da!”

How in the world have you gotten so lucky?

You scoot over in the wide booth to sit closely by Taehyung’s side, leaning your head on his shoulder and happily sighing. Closing your eyes, you tune in to the music from the live band that is playing downstairs, tapping your foot to the downbeat of the rhythm the drummer is playing before a beautiful toned saxophone breaks through the air and plays a hypnotizing improv.

“Okay,” you say with your eyes still closed “but it must’ve costed you even more to get a full booth like this. What’s up with that?”

“Actually-” Taehyung’s voice is cut off with the sound of dress shoes clacking on the hardwood in front of you, causing you to open your eyes and sit up with shock at the sight that beholds you.

“Seokjin!”

Seokjin. The Kim Seokjin, that you made a complete and utter fool of yourself in front of the last time you were with him, oddly enough, at this very bar as well. Taehyung met Seokjin at a film festival held at his university last year, thanks to Jungkook. Seokjin, an alumna of the school, had become an incredibly popular actor and well desired by many, but always knew to remain humble and stay true to his roots by participating in judging the at the annual festival, granting Jungkook’s indie film his first top three prize.

You knew of his existence, and have seen him in trailers and movie posters alike, but never bothered to give into any of the media craze, as you thought of him as only an actor of what the market has built him to be. The night that Taehyung had set the two of you up, you drank one too many shots and revealed your true emotions for him, or at least, your perceived thoughts on who he was, and though Seokjin was kind enough (or most likely drunk enough) to let it slide, you made matters worse by insulting one of the earlier movies he starred in, The Deserted, claiming the plot was “lame” and the actors were “dry,” when Seokjin had a big part in the production, and the story had elements true to his life.

And here he was now, standing before you like one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in this world with your two eyes. His dark hair was perfectly swept and styled, his lips were so perfectly pink and so perfectly plump, and he was dressed simply in a black dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes to match.

You don’t notice how you slightly topple over in the absence of Taehyung’s torso when he gets up to greet Seokjin, and you look to the side, rubbing your arm in embarrassment.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry it took a while, the driver had to take me to the back to avoid being seen in the front, you know, all that.”

“Damn, dude, didn’t realize you were getting that huge already!” Taehyung teases while playfully pushing Seokjin’s arm.

“Yeah, no, not really. The workers didn’t even know why I had to come through the back, but it was just for safety purposes.”

As if sensing your sudden alienation, Taehyung turns to slap your arm and get your attention, and you try not to squint too hard his way before turning to Seokjin and smiling as best you can, without letting the embarrassment eat you alive.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N! You look stunning tonight.”

“Ah, don’t flatter her” Taehyung jests, and you get up to slap his arm back and hug Seokjin in thanks.

You feel so small engulfed in his broad frame, but so warm in his embrace. His arms rest perfectly in the small of your back, making you feel as if you don’t want to let go. You haven’t had as much affection as a whole embrace in ages, considering Taehyung doesn’t even bother to hug you like this, and almost as if Seokjin agrees, he lets go when you do, but keeps holding you by the waist.

You don’t dare move.

“Thank you, Seokjin. I’m glad you were able to make it tonight.”

He laughs even more boisterously than Taehyung does, a sight to behold that makes your heart melt. “Well of course I was able to make it, I’m the one who booked the reservation!”

You gasp at the unexpected information, raising your brow at Taehyung who lifts his hands in surrender at your gaze.

“Hey, hey. I wasn’t lying when I said I was saving up. I’m at least paying for some of the drinks tonight, but Jin was so kind as to offer setting this all up.”

Seokjin did this all for you? What even is this luck with men suddenly being so kind to you?

You only tell Seokjin millions of thank yous after that, but you’re quickly ushered to sit inside the booth while Seokjin starts going down the menu and ordering round after round of drunks, eyeing Taehyung to see just how much he’d be willing to pay, and to your pleasure, he was willing to spend big just for you.

The menu that table service guests receive have names of drinks you haven’t seen before despite how many times you’ve been here, and Jin definitely isn’t shy to introducing you all to them.

What makes you really happy about tonight is that on most nights, you come here to ease your stress and forget the worries that life has thrown at you for just a couple of hours, but instead, you’re here with your best friend and potential man friend(?) who are paying for you to get happily drunk and enjoy your special day. Eventually you all get to the point of intoxication where your eyes are starting to droop, your limbs feel light, and your vision is only slightly wobbly, and that’s when you have to put your foot down.

You open your mouth to speak and don’t even realize how slow and slurred your speech is, “Listen... I appreciate you both so much right now, but you guys need to stop shoving liquids in me because I am this,” you hold your hand up lazily and with your fingers, try to create as small a gap as you can “this close to being completely and utterly shitfaced, and last time I was like this, I made a horrible fool out of myself in front of Seokjin”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to catch that as he’s asking the waiter for water, but Seokjin closes the gap between where you’re seated completely and places a hand on your thigh.

“Hey, I’m not even worried about that anymore. If I was, I wouldn’t even be here” he chuckles heavily, moving his hand up a tad more “don’t even sweat it.”

Oh, on the contrary, you’re sweating as if you’ve just ran a race while sitting under his gaze, but you’ve been trying to hide it as best as you can by dabbing your forehead with the readily available napkins when the drunken mess of men in front of you weren’t looking.

When your water finally arrives and you all take a minute to chug it down, Taehyung offers to go downstairs and dance, as the live band has been replaced with an open dance floor and loud beats that echo throughout the bar.

You hesitate only for a moment, wishing to stay under Seokjin’s lingering touches, but Taehyung grabs your wrist and drags you out of the booth to waddle downstairs, the both of you holding on for dear life in order to not topple down altogether.

The small floor is almost packed, but you manage to squeeze through behind Taehyung, Seokjin shortly following. You’ve always managed to dance playfully with Taehyung on nights like these, but now that Seokjin is here, you’re not quite sure what to do. After only one song, Taehyung pulls you close and speaks in your ear “Hey, I see some chick eyeing me from across the floor, you go have fun with Jin, kay?”

“Wh-what? Tae wait!” you manage to garble out without processing much of what he said, but before you can linger on it, you feel strong hands pull you by the waist as you crash into Seokjin’s firm body. It takes a while to get used to the sensation of dancing with him, but a song comes on that you recognize, and you throw all caution to the wind and just start having fun.

On this dance floor, you’ve seen many of the people around you start to get rather sleazy, dancing on their partners like this was their bedroom, but for the most part, Seokjin didn’t seem like the type to try and advance with you. Sure, his grip on your waist would get tighter every now and then the more you felt yourself in the songs that played, but it seemed as if the both of you were genuinely having fun. Holding onto each other tightly. With thanks to your heels, practically face to face mind the few inches up that you still had to look at him.

You could feel how intense his stare his gotten, his expression that looked just like what it did earlier when he had his hand on your thigh.

You were going to risk it all right then and there.

And by risk it all truly you just wanted to kiss him because god knows how long it’s been since you’ve kissed a man, especially a man with such plump lips, but before anything could be done, you hear someone calling for you from the side.

“Hey! Y/N! Listen...” he starts, eyeing up you and Seokjin holding onto each other tightly and shortly chuckles after, causing you to apologetically look up at Seokjin and peel yourself off of him.

“Oh this better be good Taehyung”

“Uh huh, yeah, I see what I’ve walked into and I was about to apologize, but it turns out my situation here could be for the better. Apparently Jungkook lost his key or whatever and left his spare inside. I gotta head back to let the dude in.”

You smile, knowing Taehyung would have probably gotten lucky tonight as well, but he cared about Jungkook too much, and for that you really admired him.

“Hey, if that’s the case, I’m going back with you-”

“Oh no no no no!” he yells above the music loud enough for the people dancing around you to look in your direction.

“You, missy, are going to have fun tonight,” he winks, and you punch his arm. “Jin definitely has means to get you back home safely so don’t even worry. Just text me from time to time, kay?”

He reaches forward to hug you tight, another first of the night, and you reach to embrace him back, yelling to him to text you when he’s home as he makes his way through the crowd.

Seokjin grabs you by the waist again, leaning down to talk into your ear “Oh, is he heading back already?”

You nod and speak loudly back since you can’t necessarily reach his ear. “Yeah, Jungkook got locked out and he’s being the hero.”

“I see” Seokjin says calmly, reaching down to whisper into your ear now, and you shiver at his breath against your lobe. “How about get out of here too, to just talk one on one?”

Your heart starts to race faster in your chest, somewhat managing to sober you up right then and there. As much as you’d love to see where the night takes you, you don’t necessarily feel comfortable in the idea right now, especially since your head is starting to pound mercilessly along with the loud music the dj keeps spinning.

“I, uh, actually should head home as well. It’s getting late and I’m actually thinking of picking up a shift tomorrow.”

You weren’t, but you figured you should say anything just to convince him, as it seems that his expression has barely lightened up, before he sighed and smiled softly before guiding you out of the crowd and outside to wait by the curb.

“I’ll call one of my drivers and he’ll take you home, alright?”

You nod frantically “Oh, no, Seokjin, you don’t have to do that, I can just call a taxi.”

He notices you shivering, and puts an arm over your shoulder to bring you closer as you both lean on a nearby wall.

“Just call me Jin, sweetheart, and” he pauses, typing fast with one hand and looking down at you right after “I already called him. He’ll be here shortly.”

“Oh, okay, thank you Jin.” you try to say politely behind chattering teeth.

It’s quiet for the next few moments, but now that you’re outside, you can definitely feel the alcohol still running through your system, as when you turn your head to watch the passing cars, you still manage to get slightly lightheaded.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a low, almost guttural voice. You turn to look up at him and lazily nod. He then proceeds to stand in front of you, pushing you up against the wall, maybe to hold you up, but from the way his body is reacting, probably for ulterior motives.

“Yeah, Jin, I’m fine, really” you smile back placidly, as he brushes a piece of loose hair behind your ear. You must be a complete mess once again in front of him, yet he’s still looking so intently at you.

“The offer still stands, you can come crash at my place, I can help you feel better.” The hand that moved your hair finds its way to your cheeks, caresses your jawline, and ever so lightly feathers over your neck.

The comfort he brought you before with his touch is now replaced with a feeling of fight or flight, your heart starting to pound in your chest, as you weakly try to push him off.

“N-no thank you, I think at this rate I just really need to sleep at home, really-”

“There’s no harm in letting me take care of you Y/N, I swear I won’t do anything you won’t like.”

“Jin please I said no-”

“Get off her!” a familiar voice rumbles not too far in front of you, and you can see Seokjin’s expression of concentration falter as he turns in the direction of the shout.

You prop yourself up weakly against the wall and squint your eyes to see a figure backlit by oncoming cars approaching you, almost as if to save you.

“Jimin…?”

Jimin rushes to your side as you practically fall into his arms, almost falling back himself but holding you steady into his welcoming embrace.

“Hey man, when someone says no, just let it go.” the way in which Jimin is speaking is a complete contrast to when you met him only hours ago, but you’re thankful as it seems to set Seokjin straight.

“Ah, I seem to have crossed the line.” he states somberly, his driver pulling up to the curb beside him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Have a good evening.”

You say nothing more and wait until his car disappears from your line of view before sighing and sinking even further into Jimin’s arms, leaving him to giggle softly as grunts to pick you up bridal style, catching you completely off guard.

“Oh my god, please you literally don’t have to carry me like this, I can walk, I swear” he only shakes his head in protest, laughing even more.

“With the way you drank tonight? I don’t think so. It won’t be for long, I don’t live far so just enjoy the ride.”

You smile for the first time after what happened between you and Seokjin, and you thought to yourself that maybe you can relax in the arms of yet another stranger, until you start feeling light drops of water hit your face.

“You’re kidding” you state crossly, and Jimin starts to walk faster, almost jogging now with you still in his arms.

“I can’t cover your face or I’ll drop you, but protect that pretty face of yours, it’s just around the corner!”

You can feel how fast his heart is beating as your head rests against your chest, and at such endearing words, yours starts to race just as fast.

You both manage to make it into his lobby only moderately wet, Jimin’s hair sticking to his forehead and white shirt soaked through. You try your best now to stare at his chest while he lowers you onto your feet.

“Thank you so much, really, for all of that just now. I don’t even know how but you really just saved me.”

Jimin shakes his head aggressively before running a hand through his wet hair, eyes closed, exposing his forehead, looking like a man straight from a magazine spread. His shirt clings onto his torso as if for dear life, outlining his abdomen and… is that a v line? His denim is sticking onto his thick thighs like glue and you can’t help but feel yourself slightly drooling. Thankfully when he calls out to you, you wipe it off your face along with the water that drips down your cheeks and play it off like normal.

“My place is this way, only if you would like to come up. I can get you some dry clothes.”

Having been invited from one man’s place to another, you gladly accept Jimin’s invitation and find yourself anticipating what is bound to happen next.

a/n: ahhh this has been highly anticipated on my own behalf and I am so happy to have finally posted it! I have such a strong connection and good feeling about this story already, and hope you can enjoy even further down the road! much love always <3

#bts #bts angel au #jimin angel au #jimin x reader #jimin/reader #angel!bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bangtan fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #soulmate au #jimin soulmate au #bts soulmate au #softmochijm #defying gravity #dg2

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imaginekpoplikethis · 6 years

Text

When It’s Her - Detective! Jung Hoseok X Reader - Part 2

Loads of things happened resulting in an extremely late update. I hope you guys not mind. In fact, updates will probably come later than usual for the next few months. Sorry guys.

Part 1 Part 2 - Here

Her note had rendered him speechless, not being able to grasp that he held some significance in her life. However, along with happiness came frustration. He was still no closer to finding out about her whereabouts. Maybe he was expecting too much; it was extremely unlikely to find a missing person within the first day of investigation.

Hoseok now sat alone in his apartment, staring at the neon yellow sticky note with his hands clasped in front of him. He had been burning holes through the paper for the past half an hour. He couldn’t believe how unproductive he was right now.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he stood from his couch and entered his kitchen, preparing himself a glass of water. Not usually his go to choice of drink but he wasn’t in a good enough mood for anything else.

As he stood gulping down his drink, his phone began to ring. A quick glance at the caller ID had him swiping the answer button at an almost unrealistic speed.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, it’s Min-Young. I- er... I don’t think this was here before but I found something strange and I think you might want to look at it? It’s kind of unsettling. I think it belongs to Y/N’s kidnapper...”

He could easily pick out the uneasiness in her tone, obviously uncomfortable with what she had discovered. This was what had him out the door within the next five minutes, speeding down the stairs and towards his car in the rain.

When arriving outside the café, he was surprised to find Min-Young, standing with an umbrella, waiting for him just outside. Once she noticed Hoseok exiting his car, she rushed over, hand gripping her umbrella tightly and the other clasped around a white notepad. She came to an abrupt stop before him, partially sheltering him from the rain with her umbrella and reached her hand out to hand him the notepad.

“It’s... I think she was being followed. It dates back to six months ago.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears and the look of helplessness shone in her eyes. Hoseok knew that feeling all too well.

“Six months! She was unknowingly being stalked for that long... how did she - how did I not notice!?”

He placed a hand on her now shaking shoulder and patted it in an attempt to make her feel somewhat better.

“Don’t beat yourself up for it. Don’t hate yourself for not noticing. It has nothing to do with you.”

She remained quiet before nodding her head and shifting her weight to her other foot. The tears didn’t stop. He scanned the front of the pad, committing the text to memory for future use. Min-Young seemed to notice this and sniffled before offering him more information.

“The company that notepad is from is the company Seong, the Vice President is her ex.”

That effectively kicked out all the thoughts that were currently residing In Hoseoks head.

“He... he was a strange guy. Really pushy and obsessive, he called it love but didn’t realize that she was overwhelmed with his clinginess. Before they broke up he would try and get her to quit her job and work for him at the company but she had dreams she wanted to pursue. He didn’t respect that and so she left him though that didn’t stop him from visiting for months afterwards, demanding she get back with him. He even proposed to her in the middle of the café one time. She-“

Min-Young choked up, a smile adorning her face whilst fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, the memory being a pleasant one.

“She was so embarrassed, I’d never seen her shout the way she did then.”

Hoseok’s mouth twitched at the thought of her face flushed in anger and embarrassment, screaming at her ex-boyfriend to leave her alone. It definitely wasn’t hard to imagine.

“What’s his name?”

Min-Young’s expression grew considerably sour and her eyebrows furrowed as she recalled his name.

“Seong Dae-Jun.”

“Dae-Jun is gone. You can come out now.”

As Hoseok entered the popular café, ‘Latté Da’ for the first time, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation two of the baristas were sharing. A woman seemingly around his age poked her head out from around the staff room door, before stepping out completely.

“It’s so embarrassing to have him come here almost every day. For a Vice President he sure has so much free time.”

She muttered these words underneath her breath as she tightened the apron around her waist, her colleague giggling.

“Hey, why don’t you just accept his job offer? It pays extremely well.”

She almost choked, a dark glare settling on her face. Despite such an expression being displayed on her face, Hoseok couldn’t help but take notice of her uniquely pretty features.

“And have him harass me all day long? I’d rather not thanks. He’s borderline stalker.”

Hoseok stood awkwardly at the counter as she finally reached him, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry, I - uh...”

Wanting to erase the embarrassment she was evidently feeling, he chuckled before offering her some words of comfort.

“Don’t worry about it. If you want I’ll take care of him for you though I can’t say that I won’t start bothering you myself.”

Pink dusted her cheeks as surprise slowly took over her face as she registered his words.

“I-“

Her words seemed to fail her and she was left standing with her lips slightly parted, no sound leaving her mouth.

“I’m just joking around with you, you don’t have to worry about me.”

A slightly disappointed look replaced her initial shock before she bounced back into her work role. A smile adorning her face, she chirped her rehearsed question of ‘what would you like to order?’ albeit in a noticeably happier tone.

Needless to say, Hoseok wasn’t joking and she certainly didn’t mind.

That was the first time they had both crossed paths. A day he would most likely never forget.

He stood alone this time, the impressive building known as Seong’s headquarters towering over him. Min-Young had given him quick directions allowing him to arrive at the company building in less than fifteen minutes.

Hoseok had made no attempt to call out Jin-Sun; this task could be completed just the same with one person.

Entering the building was somewhat nerve wracking for him. Would he be able to discover the reason behind her kidnapping? With the way Min-Young described Dae-Jun, it seemed very likely that he would have some sort of connection to the incident.

He wasted no time in asking about meeting Dae-Jun to the secretary at the desk, quickly flashing his ID at her. Her eyes widened briefly before she picked up the phone sitting at her desk and connected the call straight to his office.

They exchanged a few words whilst Hoseok glanced around the room slightly impatiently, waiting for approval to move forward. Once he heard the click of the phone being returned back into its holster, he returned his gaze to the woman, eyebrows raised expectantly. She merely shot him a small smile, using her hand to direct him towards the elevator.

“Mr. Seong is waiting for you.”

He returned her smile with a grateful one of his own and proceeded up to the highest floor of the building. Surprisingly, there were not many desks situated at this floor and in total there were probably only around five employees, besides Dae-Jun of course.

It didn’t take long for him to find the man himself as he spotted him leaning against the wall of his own office, an extremely confident aura oozing from him.

“You’re the detective I presume?” His apathetic tone had already begun to irritate Hoseok and he had only spoken five words. When he received a nod of confirmation, he shifted his weight to his other foot and let a smirk dance on his lips.

“I can’t say I know why you’re here. I haven’t particularly done anything that would call for a detective at my office.” He seemed somewhat smug, the reason being unknown to Hoseok. If anything, he seemed too calm and collected.

“You’re acquainted with Miss Y/N I believe?” Instead of his eyes widening in shock or his eyebrows being raised in confusion, Dae-Jun’s smirk simply grew.

“Yes. My, hopefully, soon-to-be fiancée. What of her?” Hoseok refrained from scoffing at his choice of words. He had to remain professional.

“Do you by any chance know anything that may contribute to the investigation of Y/F/N’s disappearance? If so, please do share.”

That seemed to wipe the smirk right off his face though not in the way he had hoped. A frown settled on his face and his eyes darkened before he opened the door to his office, motioning with his head for Hoseok to enter. Said man entered quietly, satisfied that Dae-Jun was now taking him seriously.

The click of the door closing behind him had him turning around to watch Dae-Jun stroll to his desk, leaning on the edge and crossing his arms.

“Disappearance? This is a joke right? I just saw her last week, there’s no way she’s gone missing in the short amount of time I’ve been gone.”

Hoseok could feel his annoyance growing with every word that left his mouth. A couple of days is enough time to abduct someone and even-

“I’m not sure about you but I don’t have the time to be joking around. I’m a very busy man.”

No. I shouldn’t be thinking about the possibility of death.

He received a dirty look as a result of his words to which he had an immensely hard time not returning.

“So who took her?”

Honestly, they needed to make another level of stupid for the type of questions he was being asked right now.

That’s what I’m trying to figure out, you useless idiot.

“I’m on my way to finding out. If you have no information of worth for me then I have one final question for you.”

Hoseok pulled out the notebook he had been given only an hour prior, Dae-Jun’s eyes growing wide.

That’s a first.

“Where did you get that?”

“I can’t reveal much information but it is believed to belong to the criminal involved. Do you perhaps have anything to offer me about this?”

Dae-Jun squinted at the notebook, rubbing his wrists.

“In the past, every employee that worked for our company was given these notepads. You know, just for note taking and such. But... they went out of circulation a couple of years ago.”

His answer would have been fine, solid even, if Hoseok hadn’t managed to catch a glimpse of something sitting on the corner of the Vice Presidents shelf.

“If they went out of circulation years ago, why... do you have some then?”

Dae-Jun followed Hoseok’s gaze towards the stack of old notepads before snapping his head back.

“I’ve been here for years. I’m the Vice President. Is it so hard to believe that I would have such a thing?”

The defensive tone coating his words piqued Hoseok’s interest and his eyes narrowed though he didn’t press any further. There was no point questioning any further without evidence. He would just be acting recklessly.

“I see... Thank you for your time.” Not being in a particularly good mood, he didn’t think to bid Dae-Jun good bye. He simply did not like the man.

“I’d never do anything to hurt her so stop treating me like the enemy here.”

Hoseok threw Dae-Jun a glance over his shoulder, his parting words silencing him.

“I don’t know your character well enough to believe you when you imply that you’re completely innocent. You’d be surprised how many times it happens to be a close friend.”

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theartofbeinganerd · 7 years

Text

can’t have you (but oh, how I want to)

Look, all I can really say about this is here’s Chapter Two, where Fitzsimmons continue to be awkward dorky beans, because that’s literally this whole chapter (and probably, this whole fic lmao).

(Ao3)

She’d tried her best not to, she truly had, but after finding herself quite abruptly left alone in a hallway, after having been essentially ditched, Jemma had ended up worrying herself sick trying to figure out just what she’d done to upset Fitz so much that he’d done such a thing. It had been taken over her mind so fully, in fact, that she hadn’t even been able to pay much attention in microbiology, which had followed chemistry that day and was a class that she’d been looking forward to since she’d signed up for it months ago.

That night, she had gone back to her dorm room and spent an embarrassing amount of time going back over the entire chemistry class and her brief conversation (if it could even be called that) with Fitz, but she hadn’t been able to find a single thing that she’d done wrong.

Sure, he’d caught her staring at him across the lecture hall, but that couldn’t truly be that bad, could it?

So, in the end, Jemma had come to the only reasonable conclusion: that he must have been late to his next class or to a meeting or something, so late that he couldn’t even stop to offer her an explanation or apology. His hasty retreat had to have just been a fluke thing, something that she’d misinterpreted and shouldn’t be taking so personally.

The realization had served to make her feel immensely better about the whole thing, and she was now excited for tomorrow rather than apprehensive, ready and prepared her next chemistry class, where she would be seeing Fitz again for the first time since the hallway incident.

Of course, Jemma could have just let the whole thing go and moved on, focusing solely on her classes and eventually securing her spot at the top of the class, but she was determined now to at least get Fitz to have a real conversation with her. Truthfully, he had only become more interesting to her since the first time that she’d heard him speak (and her fascination had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his face was nicely symmetrical and the way that he blushed made her heart beat unevenly).

However, even though she had planned on having another day to prepare herself before she was to see Fitz again, her planning process was quite abruptly and rather rudely interrupted when her gaze fell upon none other than Fitz in her History of SHIELD class. She’d been doing a cursory glance around the lecture hall before the period officially began, just to see if she’d recognized any of the cadets from her handful of other classes, but she’d stopped halfway through at the sight of him, hunched over a desk at the very back of the room with eyes pointedly turned down.

For a moment, Jemma wasn’t sure what to do; she hadn’t planned to see him again so soon, and was caught very much off-guard at his sudden reappearance. Which was all quite absurd, really, because of course they were bound to have more than one class in common – why hadn’t the thought even occurred to her?

But, after taking another handful of moments to regain her composure and considering pretending that she hadn’t seen him and still waiting until tomorrow to talk to him, Jemma decided that she could easily alter her plan just slightly; she didn’t necessarily have to adhere to it quite so strictly. After all, it was just a day earlier than she’d been expecting, and plus, this might even work better – the time set aside for lunch followed this period, and that presented her with the opportunity to ask him to sit with her, and then they could talk even for longer than a hallway conversation would allow for.

Smiling in satisfaction, she opened her notebook to a fresh sheet of paper just as a grouchy-looking older man stepped in front of the blackboard. She was also, coincidentally, very much prepared to start standing out, after having spent a fair amount of time studying everything that she could on the history of the organization that she was someday soon set to join.

Fitz was quite aware of the fact that he was staring at the back of the head belonging to the girl that he hadn’t been able to stop himself from thinking about since chemistry class the other day, but he also couldn’t seem to get himself to look away, either. He wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing, the fact that he had been thinking about her with alarming frequency in the past couple of days, or that he was staring so blatantly at her and was almost likely to be caught if she turned around again.

Ever since that chemistry class, the girl seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth – he hadn’t caught even the smallest of glances of her (not to say that he was deliberately looking for her). Briefly, he’d even given into the absurd thought that he’d simply dreamed her and the whole awkward situation up in his first day jitters.

But, Fitz had never in his life been that lucky, and now, there she was, right there in front of him.

So, he was doing his best to seem small and unobtrusive, bound and determined not to start shouting out every error their professor may or may not make – he didn’t need to make a fool out of himself twice in a matter of just a few days, he should at least wait until next week before he opened his big mouth again.

Fortunately (or not), that didn’t seem to be a problem, though, given that the man that had introduced himself as Professor Vaughn seemed content to spend the whole period just droning on and on. In fact, it wasn’t long before Fitz felt himself begin to fade out and even start to drowse slightly, though he did feel a lick of shame about the whole thing.

But, it wasn’t too far into class when he was brought back to full, albeit startled awareness. The sound of the crisp English accent that he could still hear ringing in his ears, calling his name down the noisy hallway, cut straight through the sleepy fog that had settled over his brain, causing him to nearly topple straight out of his chair.

Blinking a bit as he steadied himself, Fitz’s gaze automatically zeroed in on where he’d glimpsed her sitting earlier, and he found that sure enough, her hand was raised above her head. Near as he could tell, she was currently reciting information on the founding of SHIELD, as though she was reading a passage straight from a textbook or something.

They’d yet to receive books of any sort for this class, however, and with a quick glance, Fitz could see that Professor Vaughn was looking just as shell-shocked by the sheer volume of information coming from the girl. When she finally finished her long-winded statement of facts, the professor was quiet for a beat, then he cleared his throat and said haltingly, “Very good, yes, thank you, Cadet…”

“Simmons,” she filled in helpfully, and with that, Fitz now had a name to put to the girl that he’d managed to convince himself couldn’t possibly be as smart as he was imagining that she was.

Much to his horror, she was, in fact, even smarter.

Feeling quite pleased with having found the perfect opportunity to display her vast knowledge on the beginnings of SHIELD and its founders (she was especially fond of Peggy Carter), Jemma had spent the rest of class jotting down the few things Professor Vaughn mentioned that she hadn’t already memorized, and fighting the urge to glance back over her shoulder and see if Fitz looked impressed at all.

Now, the bell signaling the end of the period had finally rung, and Jemma had hurried out of the room in order to once more wait outside in the hallway to catch up with Fitz. She was positive that things would be different this time around, especially after she’d been given the chance to show off her own intelligence a bit, to show him that she was worth getting to know.

Just as she was mentally going over possible topics for them to discuss over lunch (what his area of expertise was, where he’d gotten his PhD – or PhDs, if he was like her, what he thought of the Academy so far), she noticed Fitz just exiting the classroom. Just like it had been the previous time, his gaze directed downward, focused on his shoes rather than looking ahead of himself to make sure he wasn’t bumping into anyone.

Feeling an eager smile tugging at her lips, Jemma rushed to catch up with him as he hurried down the hall, calling excitedly, “Fitz!”

She waited a moment, very narrowly missing a small group of older cadets just leaving a classroom further down the hall and very obviously not paying attention to where they were going. However, Fitz didn’t stop or even slow down, and she wondered if, perhaps, he hadn’t heard her over the din.

So, picking up her pace a bit to follow more closely along behind him as he dodged around other students and raising her voice slightly, she simply tried again. “Fitz!”

It was only once she noticed his shoulders tensing and the way that his footsteps briefly faltered before he began walking so quickly that he was almost jogging away that it finally occurred to her that he’d heard her perfectly – he was just choosing to ignore her instead.

And with that realization, Jemma abruptly gave up her attempt to catch up with Fitz, allowing him to get far enough down the hall that he disappeared completely.

Feeling truly awful and horrible and like the worst person to have ever lived, Fitz didn’t stop until he’d exited the building and could drop heavily back to rest against the brick wall beside the doors, closing his eyes and groaning in defeat. However, quickly trying to soothe the guilt that was gnawing at his insides and making his stomach twist with nausea, he told himself firmly that in the long run, it was better this way.

Despite how foolish he’d been acting as of late, Fitz was no fool, and he knew that if he were to talk to Simmons now, he was inevitably going to muck it all up and ruin any chance he had of ever talking to her again. He may not have known her all that well (or at all, really), but from what he’d observed already, he just knew deep down inside that they truly could get on, if given the chance.

But, in order for that to happen, he first had to find the right words to say to her, something impressive enough that she wouldn’t just laugh in his face as soon as they left his mouth. He had to show her that he wasn’t just some loud-mouthed kid that corrected professors and refused to talk to his peers. He had to prove to her that they were one in the same, the youngest cadets on the Academy campus and, apparently, with a great love of knowledge.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Simmons, something that gave Fitz the impression that this – and she – was important, something further than the fact that they seemed to have things in common. And, because of that, he had to make sure that everything went according to plan.

So, placing the utmost importance on said plan, he made a quick detour across campus and ducked briefly into the cafeteria to grab a lunch on the go, then headed back to his dorm room. There, he immediately got started on coming up with the perfect thing to say to impress Simmons.

Once he found it, Fitz assured himself that he’d be the one catching up with Simmons in the hallway and striking up a conversation, and the very idea had a smile tugging at his lips.

The following day, the time that Jemma had originally allotted to trying to speak with Fitz again, she instead found herself silently stewing in chemistry, unable to figure out just what it was that she’d done to deserve the way that Fitz treated her. Initially, she’d been upset and hurt about the whole thing, wondering what it was about her that seemed to repel or even repulse Fitz. Now, however, after spending all night thinking it over, she was simply angry.

She just didn’t understand it – everyone she’d ever met seemed to have found her perfectly lovely (if not a bit strange, what with her above average intelligence, but that was to be expected), and Fitz hadn’t even given her a chance to show him how lovely she was! It was incredibly rude of him, really, and Jemma couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gotten manners like that from.

Just as much, though, she couldn’t seem to figure out why the whole thing bothered her the way that it did (and no, it didn’t have anything to with his symmetrical features and cute little blush either). In the grand scheme of things, she didn’t even really know Fitz, so his opinion of her shouldn’t matter in the slightest. Sure, she’d found herself fascinated by the first person she’d met who could keep up with her intellectually but was around her age, but…

Before she could give anymore thought to the wide range of questions surrounding her feelings about the whole situation, however, she quickly returned her focus back in on Agent Patterson, raising her hand to answer the question that he’d just posed to the room at large (just because she wasn’t paying full attention didn’t mean that she wasn’t still intent on learning something).

Then, she heard Fitz’s voice coming from the back of the room, his tone clearly rushed as he hurried to answer the question first.

Jemma’s eyes grew wide in complete surprise and utter disbelief – he was sitting right there, just a couple of rows behind her, so surely he’d seen her hand raised patiently. Perhaps he just hadn’t been paying much attention either?

However, it became quite clear that he was paying attention and just didn’t care, as it only continued to happen all throughout class. And, to make matters worse, when Jemma turned around in her seat to throw a fierce glare at him to show how much she didn’t appreciate his actions, he didn’t even bother to meet her gaze. Instead, he seemed to simply look straight through her as he kept his eyes firmly on the front of the room and Patterson.

Truly annoyed now, Jemma came to the sharp and sudden conclusion that the reason Fitz had been avoiding her and blowing her off was because he wasn’t interested in making friends, as she had been. In fact, it seemed as though he was taking the fight for top of the class as seriously as she was, and he’d correctly singled her out as competition. She hadn’t expected it to start quite so soon, but she was just fine with it.

If Fitz wanted a rival, then he’d have a rival.

#shayna writes #fsfic #fitzsimmons #academy au #can't have you (but oh how I want to)#academy era #chapter two #awkward beans #look i'm just weak for academy fs #especially jemma simmons believing that leo fitz wants her as a rival i just???#oh honey my sweet summer child

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imsarabum · 7 years

Text

{PART 25} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook dreams of having the future with you that he always envied human’s of having. But as soon as he arrives home, his entire world - and everything in it gets turned upside down. He must make a choice in the face of evil; while evil holds you in its grasp.

“And he found strength in the only thing that he was powerless to; it had always, from the very beginning; been her.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 24} {Part 25} {Part 26}

“You’re leaving the office early today, Mr. Jeon?”

“Yes – and I will be doing so for the foreseeable future” Jungkook spoke to the office’s receptionist, Erina, as he passed her on his way out towards the elevators. “I have some...family matters that need my attention. It should require no longer than a few weeks at most” he looked down to his Rolex that read 5:30pm, knowing that if he took his usual shortcuts, he could be back to the Manor in around an hour and a half if he put his foot down hard enough.

“Have a good evening, Erina. Goodnight” Jungkook professionally excused himself with a small smile on his face that was enough to melt the hearts of every woman and man that had their sights on him as he strode to the elevator with his briefcase in hand; ready to take it down to the ground floor and make his way to his car.

“Shall I pick her up something nice to eat?” Jungkook pondered as he sat, stuck in traffic a few moments later. “Even though she is a domitor, she still has her human tendencies – and humans are partial to loving comfort food during stressful times” he decided on going for the safe, universal option of pizza and French fries with garlic dip – the garlic dip now being forever an inside joke between you both as the thought of you feeding him something that was always perceived as being dangerous to Vampires just tickled Jungkook absolutely pink.

Soon after collecting the food, Jungkook was well on his way back to his Manor. While he drove along the semi-remote country roads, he sipped upon a carton of blood that was – as usual, disguised as some kind of fruit juice with the label on the front and the opaque packaging. It’s not that Jungkook was thirsty, per-say, but he always made sure to keep himself topped up as to avoid ever committing what he almost did to you when you arrived unexpectedly. Inwardly, Jungkook was forever ashamed of his actions that night – scolding himself for having little to no self control; even when he was bloodthirsty. But as he drove, he recalled a conversation you had with him the previous night when he explained why he ended up screaming for you to leave the very first time, during gentle pillow talk as you both often engaged in.

“You think that was you being weak?” you had asked as your fingers delicately traced the outline of his abdominal and oblique muscles above and below his navel.

“On the contrary, Jungkook, I think what you did was completely the opposite of being weak. Yes...you wavered for a moment. But you didn’t do it in the end; you made the choice to pull away and put a stop to it. You blame yourself for being some kind of monster for almost doing what you did...but in that moment, you truly displayed the traits of a ‘just’ human, and a divine Vampiric Prince; thus, sparing me in turn. And that, my Prince....that is not weakness; that is strength in its purest form”

Jungkook uncontrollably smiled to himself in remembrance of your words as he finished sipping the last of his blood through the plastic straw in the carton. “(Y/N), how is it you can calm even the most violent of waters within me?” he pondered in awe. To Jungkook, you were both mesmerising and unexplainable – even though he knew what you were. Although he understood you were a domitor and that was the reason you caused him to feel life and all the emotions that came with it for the first time; you were still an outstanding force of tranquil power that left him powerless to you in turn. In many ways, you were once again giving Jungkook a brand new experience; the feeling of coming home after a long day of work to see the face of a loved one. For hundreds of years now, Jungkook often brooded over the notion of just that. He thought frequently about how nice it would be if he were a human man; going to work and coming home each day to his wife and children – seeing their happy, smiling faces and throwing his arms around each of them to lay gentle, paternal kisses on their faces, before enveloping his wife in a much needed embrace to rid himself of the stress that built up throughout the day. And now, his mere daydreams had the inevitable possibility of turning into a reality.

“Is this what that feels like? This normal, human occurrence that so many human men – husbands and father’s alike, take for granted?” Jungkook grinned so brightly his eyes almost completely disappeared as he imagined such a future with you. “We’ll have that (Y/N). I’ll not just be a Vampire who you can be proud of, but a man too” he promised himself, knowing that he was already more than proud of you, in turn.

Just after turning on his wind-shield wipers as the rain began beating down on everything in sight, Jungkook slowed his speed before making the left turn to drive up to his Manor. From the main road – his Manor was known as the ‘house on the hill.’ It wasn’t clearly visible, due to the sheer amount of trees and forest that surrounded the banks at either side; but everyone who was familiar with the area knew whom it belonged to.

“That’s strange” Jungkook thought to himself as he drove up the lane that was fit for only one car going up either way. “My tracks from this morning are gone...” he noted, seeing the gravel that should have contained his tyre tracks from earlier completely dispersed and missing. However, Jungkook concluded that because of the wind and the rain with the storm approaching, that the elements had erased any and all trace of them.

As per usual, as soon as Jungkook’s car got close enough to the gates – they opened automatically for him, letting him pass through with ease. Looking at the ground just outside the gates, he noted that there was still the lack of tyre tracks that should have been there from earlier on that morning; further instilling the fact that it must be down to cause of the environment. However, as soon as Jungkook passed the gates and began making his way down the driveway to his Manor, he noticed something extremely odd.

“Footprints?” he slowed down a fraction – his Vampiric eyes letting him see that they were of smaller size than his – leaving him with no other impression than they belonged to you. “Did she take a walk?” he questioned as he peered over his steering wheel – ultimately wondering why your footprints were only going in one direction...and not returning towards the house. Jungkook inhaled sharply as he pressed his foot down harder on the peddle, trying to talk himself into the notion that you had just walked towards the gates and then proceeded to stroll along the grassy grounds on either side of the gravel filled driveway. “But if the wind were to disperse the outside tracks, surely her footprints would have disappeared too? Unless her prints are fresh and she’s currently outside walking in this damned weather?” he shook his head at the thought of you doing something so careless...but still, he had a rather ominous feeling building in his gut; and he didn’t like it one bit.

Jungkook quickly parked his vehicle just off to the side of his Manor, before leaping out of the car with the food he had bought for you in tow. “Calm down and think rationally, Jungkook – she’s probably taken a walk from being stuck inside all day. Either that, or she just recently returned to the Manor and the wind hasn’t had a chance to disperse her tracks yet” he tried to cease his mind as he placed his free hand on one of the double doors to the Manor, before opening it to let himself inside.

And all he was met by; was silence.

“(Y/N)?” Jungkook called out in a loud voice, not even bothering to remove his shoes as he sat the food upon the floor – instantly knowing that something was terribly wrong. He felt his breath becoming harsh and laboured as a mere four seconds ticked by.

“(Y/N)?!” he shouted – before closing his eyes on the spot to try and locate your presence in his home with his heightened senses...but all he could detect was his own being, and Musgy’s being on the second floor.

Panic flooded Jungkook’s entire existence as he frantically looked around – clearly being able to smell your faint scent that was prevalent where he stood in the hallway. Immediately, he followed it to where it was coming off the strongest – which just so happened to be his smaller living room with the widescreen television inside. He ran through the open doors – patently able to smell where you had once been lounging on the comfortable couch...before spying the muted television that was still playing episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. “No...no this isn’t right, this is all wrong” he almost choked as he fumbled for this phone to dial your number. He stood still on the spot as he put the phone to his ear – hearing the ringing of the call while listening for the ringing of your phone that should have sounded out somewhere in the house. But to Jungkook’s terrible dismay, all that presented itself was more silence.

“(Y/N) where are you?!” he roared at the top of his lungs as he sprinted out of the room and began climbing the stairs almost four at a time – moving at near lightning speed as he went burst into the bedroom that he assigned you on the first night you moved in as your smell was also lingering there, too. He hoped with all his might that his senses were just making him overreact – that in his frightened state; he had jumped to the conclusion that your lack of presence in the air around him was just mistaken for your slumbering state.

As soon as Jungkook crashed into the room, Mugsy – who was currently snoozing on the bed, nearly hit the ceiling at the sudden shock. Jungkook knew from the moment he stepped inside that you weren’t there, but upon seeing Mugsy, he decided to question the feline of your whereabouts.

“Where is she?” Jungkook strode over to Mugsy, whose heart was beating similar to that of someone who had just ran an entire marathon.

“What do you mean – where is she? She’s in the Manor, is she not?” Mugsy replied with a frightful tone in his thoughts as he gazed at the Prince with wild, widened eyes.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Jungkook continued to question your cat as he picked up his shirt you had previously been wearing – letting Jungkook know that you had removed it but a few hours ago with the way your smell was still fresh on its material.

“I last saw her at breakfast, your Highness. I believe she went to the library. I swear – I haven’t seen her since! My lord, what’s going on? My human isn’t in danger, is she?” Mugsy finally managed to sit up properly as he watched fear pass through Jungkook’s eyes – being able to sense his distress without even needing to look at him.

“I’ll check the library then” Jungkook passed Mugsy a deft nod – leaving the cat completely and utterly confused as Jungkook proceeded to dial your number again while approaching the stairs. Just as he was halfway down them – and just as he was about to press the call button; to Jungkook’s shock, his phone began ringing...and it was your name that flashed up as the caller ID. Without any hesitation, Jungkook answered the phone – his Vampiric heart hammering in his chest that pumped his previously consumed blood through his veins at an even faster rate than usual.

“Where the hell are you?!” Jungkook’s voice was violently cross as he stopped halfway down the stairs – both relieved and furious at the same time as he found all of his conflicting emotions almost too much for him to bear. He expected to hear you reply with something like “I’m outside – jeez, calm down my Prince!” or “Don’t yell at me in that tone of voice!” followed by the giggle you gave him that always made his heart flutter; that always made him feel that warming fuzziness deep within him. But the voice that replied had exactly the opposite effect...

“Now, now, my Prince...is that any way to great your dear old, elder cousin?”

Jungkook felt a shiver of frightening terror and plain confusion soar throughout him as he found himself at almost a loss for words. He stood like a pathetic bunny-rabbit in the middle of a dark road with a car speeding towards it as his mouth went as dry as the hottest, most hostile desert known to the world. He could feel his stomach almost eat itself with disturbance as he could barely open his mouth to reply to the voice that he knew all too well; the last voice he ever wanted to hear, and the last voice he ever expected to be greeting him from your phone.

“...has that damned cat caught your tongue, my Prince? You should watch out. It caught my face before...but you already knew about that, didn’t you?” the deep voice almost purred back at him – followed by a low chuckle of an evil manner.

“Yoongi...” Jungkook managed to blurt out – trying to swallow the gigantic lump in his throat as he gripped the banister with his right hand; not caring if it were to crumble under the pressure he was forcing on it. “Wh-what are you –“

“It’s nice to finally speak with you after all these years, cousin” Yoongi interrupted him, pausing a moment for dramatic effect. “I was hoping to chat with you on Saturday night during the ball, but you left before I could make my way over to you! How rude of you, my Prince” Yoongi’s voice was wrapped in insincere offence as Jungkook tried to listen to the background noise of the call – desperately trying to hear any kind of ambience that would let him locate his current position.

“Where is she? What have you done to her?” Jungkook snapped out of his daze, his voice transforming into a deathly growl as his chest began to rise and fall.

“Oh – you’re referring to your little prize? She’s here – safe with me and my friends.” Yoongi chuckled manically in response, knowing that he was giving Jungkook a good stir-up and making him play right into his hands.

“How did you do this? How did you escape? Where are you Yoongi?”Jungkook continued to walk down the stairs as he made his way to the front doors – opening one of them wide and getting ready to put his foot outside, when Yoongi spoke up sharply.

“Ah, ah, ah...I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jungkook” he warned, causing Jungkook to stop in his tracks as his head shot up to look off into the distance towards the gates; observing a sight that made his entire body almost clench to see.

“You bastard” Jungkook seethed in reply, hearing Yoongi’s deep chuckle as Jungkook’s eyes never left the image of Yoongi standing just outside the gates...with you in a white, shoulder-strapped, calf length dress that Jungkook knew didn’t belong to you. He felt such rage and fear bubble inside him as he saw one of the tallest rogues that had accompanied Yoongi on the night of the ball hold you in his leathered grasp; with your hands tied in a knot with rope that kept them securely locked around your waist as it circled your stomach, too.

“Close the door...and go back into your nice warm Manor, Jungkook” Yoongi commanded with such patronising authority, that it made Jungkook grit his teeth in spite. “Don’t give me a reason to make her scream in pain...we don’t want that – do we?”

Filled with wrath – almost trembling and feeling so stupidly incapable, Jungkook clenched his teeth together; loathing the fact that Yoongi was using you as live bait to get him to do his insane bidding. Yoongi knew that the Prince of Vampires possessed no earthly weakness...other than you. He knew that, to get exactly what he wanted, he would have to objectify you as a frail, shivering damsel in distress to pull and tug at Jungkook’s shattered and distraught soul at the thought of something terrible happening to you that he couldn’t control. Which in turn, caused Jungkook to harbour even more angst within him as he knew you were anything but that.

“Jungkook...close the door and go back inside. (Y/N) must be so cold out here in this beautiful white dress...you don’t want her to freeze to death – do you?” Yoongi practically dangled you in front of Jungkook with his sadistic, twisted words. By this stage, Jungkook had already figured out partially what had happened, as he thought about how stupid he had been to assume the dispersed tracks were down to the weather – how your footprints were the product of an innocent walk around the grounds...and he hated himself now more than he ever did in his entire life.

“Good...good boy” Yoongi whispered as Jungkook submitted to him, slamming the door shut with such force that it echoed throughout the entire Manor. “You know...it was just too fucking easy – tricking her into coming out here and opening the gates and getting her to pass through them. But, I have my brother and his lover to thank for that. At the very least, he finally proved himself to be of some worth to me”

Jungkook widened his eyes silently, still with the phone glued to his ear. “Taehyung? Jimin? What are you –“

“It’s absolutely disgusting what being in love and having emotions does, isn’t it?” Yoongi’s gruff voice filled Jungkook’s psyche. “Perhaps if my brother hadn’t been so in love with his little plaything, then perhaps...I wouldn’t have been able to use it against him. (Y/N) was so eager to come out here and pull the lever when she thought that it was just Taehyung and Jimin visiting her. She put up a good fight when she walked through the gates – I’ll give her that much. But I’m afraid that even domitors are weak to a concentrated solution of chloroform. She was just...too easy”

“I want you to listen to me, and listen to me carefully, Yoongi” Jungkook’s voice was almost animal-like as his tone dropped to its lowest form in the midst of his now frightening, snarling demeanour, “I don’t know what it is you are seeking, but I swear on my entire heritage that if you do anything to her – if you so much as attempt to lay your godforsaken, filthy hands on her...I will drain you of every bodily fluid you possess, I will rip out your spleen and torture you for an eternity so help me...”

Yoongi let out a belly-aching laugh, making Jungkook itch with such pettiness and hostility. “Less of the Hollywood movie threats – you’re not the saviour of this story, my Prince. And don’t worry, I would never dream of touching such a pure angel...she’s too important for that” Yoongi’s words caught Jungkook unawares as he began striding towards his study to view you through the CCTV that gave him a clear view of you – frightened and gagged with a thick brown rag around your mouth that was tightly fastened at the back of your head.

“...what do you want, Yoongi?” Jungkook panned his eyes over Yoongi standing beside you – with one of the taller rogues whom he didn’t know the name of still standing behind you and holding you in place. Just behind your three figures sat Taehyung’s Landrover – which Jungkook could only assume held Taehyung, Jimin, and possibly Yoongi’s two other foot soldiers inside.

“Yes – what do I want, indeed?” Yoongi sneered – knowing that Jungkook was probably looking at them all through the CCTV camera as he raised his head to make bold eye-contact with it. “How about...you invite all of us in, and we can have a chat about that? After all...I’m sure you can deduct from how (Y/N) shivers...how her body trembles...that she’s deathly cold. You know – I can almost feel the heat from her body filter through this flimsy material I had her change into. We wouldn’t want her contracting some kind of pneumonia...” Yoongi laughed while Jungkook reeled in torture at the thought of Yoongi defiling you in such a way; as the notion of him making you change out of your clothes and into the dress taunted and tormented him in the most wicked way imaginable.

“You want me to let you in? You and (Y/N)?” Jungkook had no intention of letting the big one behind you in as well – leaving him outnumbered two to one as he didn’t yet know the capability of his or Yoongi’s strength.

“No, dear cousin. I am requesting for you to invite me, the girl, Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok...Taehyung and Jimin inside. We’re all quite chilly and bored out here – shouldn’t you be more hospitable? I expected much more from Serrena’s dear son. Where are you manners, Jungkook?” Yoongi rhymed off all the names as he knew that Jungkook had to know the identities of each soul to be able to allow them inside.

Jungkook blinked over and over – feeling the unfamiliar sensation of danger looming in his heart that almost paralysed him. “Taehyung and Jimin...I don’t know what their intentions are. Did they help Yoongi willingly? Or were they forced to? There’s Yoongi and his three rogues...making it four against one; me. How am I to fight back? How am I to keep (Y/N) safe? What do I do?” Jungkook questioned himself in the face of danger for the very first time in his life. For seconds that felt like long minutes, Jungkook stood completely silent; trying to come up with answers that he just couldn’t grab a hold of – feeling completely and utterly useless to you.

“I’ll give you five minutes to think about my offer. Let us in, and you can be assured that (Y/N) will be in your sights – right in front of you whilst you and I converse. However; should you decide to decline...I promise you, Jungkook...you will never see her again. Five minutes...” and with that, Jungkook heard the call drop – leaving him in absolute silence as he continued to stare at you and Yoongi through the screen.

“Both of them are covering every inch of their skin – bar their faces. Her hands are tied...Yoongi’s not letting her come into contact with them” Jungkook’s mind raced a mile a minute as he took a sharp inhale of air. He absolutely didn’t want to just willingly invite such evil and insidious creatures into his home, but he couldn’t just leave you with them – completely powerless and defenceless. Knitting his eyebrows together, Jungkook reached over his study-desk for his antique-style house telephone, and began dialling the number for the only other Vampire he knew he could trust; his mother.

Without a moment to lose, Jungkook dialled his mother’s number that he knew like the back of his hand; praying with every fibre of his being that she would answer immediately.

“Hello darling~” Serrena’s usual gentle voice seeped through Jungkook’s house-phone. But unlike usual, Jungkook’s mind was anything but gentle in response, as he took a deep breath to ready himself to relay the entire situation to her.

“Mother – I want you to record this conversation right now. I don’t have much time to explain things so it’s easier for you to listen back over this recording it if you miss something – understood?” Jungkook managed to stop his voice from shaking as he continued looking at you through his monitor – seeing you shivering with your eyes cast to the ground. There was a slight pause on Serrena’s end, before Jungkook heard clicking on the line that let him know she had activated her recording device.

“Speak Jungkook – what is it? What’s happening?” she responded immediately – her tone now much more serious and concentrated than before.

“Yoongi has somehow escaped the Montgomery’s mansion – along with the three rogues that were there the night of the ball. I’m not sure of the finer details, but while I was at the office, Yoongi managed to use Taehyung and Jimin to lure (Y/N) outside of the estate gates, before chloroforming her. He and his henches are taking precaution to not touch (Y/N) – so they obviously don’t want to be able to feel the power of a domitor. Yoongi, (Y/N) and the big rogue are standing outside my gates right this moment; with (Y/N) bound and gagged. Taehyung’s Landrover is parked right behind them, which I suspect holds Taehyung, Jimin and the other bastards inside. Mother...Yoongi is demanding me to let all of them inside...and there’s not a damn thing I can do to save her but to comply to his demands” Jungkook’s unbearable emotions finally got the better of him as he felt his chest heave in distress – feeling for the first time what he assumed were the beginnings of frightful tears in his eyes as he waited for his mothers response. He heard her mumble to someone quickly – before her voice sounded to him once again.

“Is there any way you can bargain with him? Tell him that only he and (Y/N) can enter?” Serrana sprang into action as she placed Jungkook’s call on loudspeaker, while she proceeded to furiously type on what Jungkook assumed was her laptop at her desk back at his parent’s residence.

“No. He has given me no other choice. Mother...I – I can’t go up against all of them alone. I don’t know if Taehyung and Jimin have been allied with Yoongi all along and have been planning this since the beginning. I don’t – I can’t – I –“

“Jungkook; pull yourself together. Whether you like it or not; Yoongi has the upper hand against you. Do not let him put you into the check position. You are my son; you are the Prince of every single Vampire on this earth. I raised you to be as compassionate as you could be, but I also raised you to be strong. You have no other choice my son...you must let them all in” Serrena spoke with motherly firmness as Jungkook almost silently wept to himself, still staring at your shivering body as he listened to her words.

“The only way you can keep (Y/N) safe for now is to allow them inside. Keep Yoongi busy – keep him talking. Ask him questions, listen to what he has to say and respond in ways that won’t cause him to become even more hostile. He is a ticking time-bomb, Jungkook. Be careful with your words and your intonation towards him...he’s unpredictable and volatile in the worst way possible”

“When can you get here? I need as much help as I can get mother – I cannot hope to do this alone!”

“I can’t give you a definite ETA, Jungkook. Your father is currently arranging for the Hawk to lift off. You know that on a normal day, it’s a forty-minute flight to the Manor from our location. But the storm is about to peak in your area; so we will have to prepare for delays, too” Serrena knew that there was no point in sugar-coating anything at this stage as it really was a matter of life or death for both you and Jungkook. “I have sent an emergency message to the Montgomery mansion to find out what happened, but until I arrive, Jungkook...do not attempt to engage in battle with him alone. The rogues? You could handle them easily as they haven’t been Vampires for very long – less than 20 years I suspect” she informed Jungkook of this fact as the night she met them all at the ball, she was clearly able to detect that they were younger and inexperienced. “The bigger one you spoke of – Namjoon...he has somewhat of a tender heart. If you can – try to use this to your advantage. But, tread carefully...he is bound to Yoongi, and he will obey him until the very end. The other two are also just following orders but, Namjoon, well – let’s just say from the little chat he and I had; his moral compass is definitely spinning in all different directions”

“What about (Y/N)? What should I do? Mother, I feel like such a stupid child...I’m an idiot for leaving her alone – I thought that she would be safe, I never thought in a million years that Taehyung would betray –“

“You listen to me, Jeon Jungkook” Serrena made Jungkook stop his ridiculous claim right in its tracks. “Taehyung has not – and will not ever betray us. He was obviously being forced to do this against his will...just as you are being forced to do this for (Y/N). How dare you insinuate something like that” Serrena scolded him like the child Jungkook ultimately felt like, before she softened her voice once more.

“I know you are afeared my love. I know...I know how much you love (Y/N) - I know how much this kills you inside...but that’s exactly all the more reason why you must be strong for her. That is how you will both live through this. You must be strong on your own for now...for (Y/N); and...” she trailed off, wondering whether or not to enlighten Jungkook about something she knew neither you or he knew about yet.

“...and? And what?” Jungkook repeated, looking at the time on his mobile phone that told him he had but a minute left before Yoongi would call back.

“I sensed it the moment I met her at the ball – as did your sisters and more than likely, every other female Vampire in the room. Jungkook...(Y/N) is with child. You are not just protecting her, but you are protecting your unborn child”

In that moment, Jungkook felt like he had just been slammed against a cold, steel wall and pummelled right through to the other side. He let his mouth hang open as he blinked – feeling a single tear cascade down his cheek and glide along his well-defined jaw line as he could hardly find the words to respond. Female Vampires were the more dominant of their species, meaning that they possessed certain capabilities that their male counterparts did not. One of them was, a female Vampire would be able to sense the formulation of cells inside another females body from the moment a male’s sperm came into contact with a female’s egg inside of her; it didn’t matter the species, Vampire – human, even animal. Serrena knew that because of this very fact, that Jungkook had absolutely no idea of you being in the first week of your pregnancy; and obviously, neither did you.

A million and one thoughts flashed through Jungkook’s mind as he found himself feeling almost dizzy. What should have been joyous news – and a heart-warming reason to celebrate...was reduced to nothing more than the definition of being distraught. However, it only further instilled the protective nature that Jungkook had for you. Not only was he burning with desire to get you safely back in his arms, but he was now also fighting for something that was a part of you both. Something that would grow inside of you for nine months, something that would come into the world full of the life and love that domitors possess...and something that Jungkook would forever love with every beat of his Vampiric heart; because it would be half of you and half of him – in a physical form.

“...I understand why you didn’t tell me before. But mother...I desperately wish you had of” Jungkook whispered as he clenched his fist – not able to take his eyes off your stomach through the screen as he knew that you were outside in the freezing cold – catching your death on top of previously being chloroformed that could potentially harm the faint life inside of you. Jungkook knew that if he had of been aware of you being in your first week of pregnancy, that there would have been no way in hell he would have left you alone in the Manor. Ultimately; it meant that none of this would have happened to cause you all to be thrown into this situation.

“I know. And for that – I am truly sorry, my son” Serrena tried to speak through the guilt that inhabited her every cell as Jungkook could hear her get up from her desk – her heels clicking along the floor before swinging a door open.

“I...I have to go. He’s going to call me back in twenty seconds” Jungkook spoke quickly – but his mind was almost completely blank. He could hardly breathe, speak or think straight with the amount of turmoil inside of him as he thought about what would await him upon letting Yoongi inside; but he knew it was the only way he could protect you...and also, the life you both created together.

“Be strong my son. Believe in yourself; (Y/N) believes in you. She won’t let you down...so you shouldn’t either. We’ll be there as soon as we can, alright?” Serrena knew that her son was absolutely terrified to the bone – something she’d never thought she would have lived to see.

“Goodbye, mother” Jungkook whispered – half meaning to bid her farewell until she arrived, and half as a means to say a final goodbye; if things were to turn out unfavourably for both you and he. And with that, Jungkook ended the call – placing the corded house-phone back down on to its main body; his only thoughts being “You have to do this, Jungkook. For (Y/N) – you have to be strong; no matter what” he found strength in his only weakness on planet earth; you.

Right on cue, Jungkook’s mobile phone rang with your name on the screen. Jungkook lifted it off the desk and kept his eyes on you and Yoongi through the CCTV – watching him with the phone to his ear as your near frozen skin was almost a shade of blue at this stage.

“Yoongi” Jungkook kept a steady voice upon answering the call, watching a smirk unfold on Yoongi’s face at the sound of his voice.

“Hello again, my Prince. Well – have we made a decision? I hope you have; I don’t think this little one can endure the cold for much longer...are you cold, (Y/N)? Is the dress I chose for you too inappropriate for this weather?” Yoongi leaned into you – putting the phone close to your mouth and letting Jungkook hear your muffled whimpering that almost set fire to his skin; that filled him with so much helplessness he wished for nothing more than to die if it meant he could save you from whatever Yoongi planned to use you for.

“...(Y/N), Taehyung, Jimin, Seokjin, Hoseok, Namjoon....and Yoongi; I invite thee on to my grounds and into my house. You all have my permission to enter unscathed.” Jungkook spoke slowly in response. All he wanted was to get you inside – to throw a warm blanket over you and fill your body with hot beverages to heat up your chilly bones and muscles that he knew ached in agony, but he knew that he had to stall for as long as possible. Jungkook essentially didn’t have time to sit and plan out his war on Yoongi – instead; he had to make educated decisions as he went along, and this was the best he could come up with at the current moment in time.

“You’ve made good choices today, my Prince” Yoongi’s menacing chuckle that was getting old extremely quickly to Jungkook filled his ears as Jungkook practically burned holes into the CCTV screen with his glaring eyes. “Open the gates then, what are you waiting for?”

“I will open the gates when you agree to let me put a blanket around (Y/N) when she enters the Manor. She’s absolutely freezing, and all I request is for you to grant me this in turn for letting you in” Jungkook spoke politely, yet his tone was clipped in a way that made Yoongi roll his eyes and click his tongue in irritation.

“Yes, fine – whatever” Yoongi snapped, before grabbing you by your elbow and tugging you back from the gates a fraction to allow for their opening. “You can give Namjoon the blanket and he’ll do it, if you insist. But you’re not allowed anywhere near her. Not yet anyway.”

“Fine.” Jungkook replied coldly – not caring who put the damn blanket around you – just as long as it was promised to happen. “I’m opening the gates now”

“It’s about fucking time.” Yoongi seethed, before Jungkook laid his finger upon the print-reading device that would open the gates. After hanging up the phone, to Yoongi’s delight, the gates opened right before his eyes as he let out a celebratory sigh of victory; but you couldn’t have been more joyless if you’d tried. Had you not have been so cold – had your mouth not have been burning from where the chloroform had stained your skin, and had you not have been gagged and tied up leaving you more or less powerless; you would have screamed into the phone for Jungkook to absolutely not open the gates for them. “What is he doing?! He can’t just let them in! How is he going to get out of this one? How is this all going to end?” you didn’t once think about yourself – as all you thought about was; is the Prince of the Eternal Kingdom strong enough to ward off four rogue Vampires?

“Move” Yoongi growled at you from behind as you felt Namjoon ushering you forward after the gates had finished opening wide for you all. It was then that you heard several car doors opening – causing you to turn your head around to see Taehyung and Jimin looking much like you except not bound and gagged; but being forcefully ushered by the rogue Vampires you had come to know as Hoseok and Seokjin from listening to them all talk amongst each other before Jungkook arrived home. But even at that – as much as you tried to listen in on their conversation; they spoke in what appeared to sound to you like Latin, or some other language that sounded similar to the dead tongue. To say that finding out Taehyung was Yoongi’s brother was a shock to you would have been a blatant lie, as you found yourself questioning Taehyung’s intentions. But with the sullen, sombre look on both of Taehyung and Jimin’s faces; something told you that they had nothing to do with this orchestrated event - leaving you even more confused than before.

“Did I give you permission to look around?” Yoongi’s authoritative voice chilled you even further as you spun your head back towards the Manor.

“No – I’m sorry.” You muffled through your gag without even thinking. Once again, Yoongi was chuckling as you felt his body near yours, making your skin reel with disgust as all you wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible.

“Such an obedient little girl. I would never have imagined you to be so...perfect for me, (Y/N)” Yoongi’s tone got so deep it was barely audible at this stage; and his words frightened you beyond belief. You desperately wished to ask him what he meant – what he wanted a domitor for, why he was doing all of this...but something told you that you knew better than to speak unless you were spoken to. Although you were feisty and unafraid in your everyday, daily life...you had never been as scared as you were right in that moment.

As Jungkook stood behind the Manor doors – he could feel your presence begin to surround him once again as you neared him. However, Yoongi was like the poison in your heavenly well as Jungkook could sense his vileness even through the doors as he walked alongside you. Jungkook didn’t know where exactly his mind was as he stood there with one of the throws from his living room to pass to Namjoon to put around you...but there was one thing he did know. He knew that in less than a few seconds, he would have to face his greatest fear; but his greatest fear wasn’t dying, nor was it having to be in the company of Yoongi or any of the rogues that accompanied him in turn.

“My greatest fear...is not being able to shield you, (Y/N). I would lay down my entire existence for you, my beloved. What good am I if I can’t afford protection to the only one that owns my heart? I will die before I see any more harm come to you, (Y/N). I promise you that. And, although you aren’t aware of the life forming inside you, I will defend that life with mine too...whatever it takes; because I love you.”

Jungkook found himself holding his breath – counting down the milliseconds until he would have to face the inevitable; before finally, he heard the usual, friendly chime of his doorbell that had now been turned into two, menacing tones; letting him know that he was about to let pure evil itself into his home.

“Ding-dong” the bell chimed.

{...to be continued...}

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deanssweetheart23 · 7 years

Text

On My Way Home

Title: On My Way Home. The Promise. Part 2

Summary: Dean deals with the aftermath of the letter that changed his life.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (very briefly, also mentioned), Jo Harvelle (very briefly), Benny Lafitte, Leslie (OFC, only mentioned), John Winchester and Marry Winchester (only mentioned), Bobby Singer (very briefly mentioned), Lexie (OFC), Lisa Braeden (mentioned)

Word count: 6065

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Another letter (way shorter though, I promise). Mentions of an almost-fatal car accident and death of a parent. There are a few more warnings but I don’t want to ruin the story for anyone so look at the tags in the end if you want. :)

Author’s Notes: Wow. So here it is. The second part to “The Promise”. I’m sorry this took me so long, guys, but I fell in love with the first part and I wanted to do this story justice (also, life has been kind of crazy lately). Anyway, I’d really like to thank all of you for the love and support you’ve shown for this fic. It means the world to me and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed working on it.

(Flashback is in italics). Read part one here.

“Where are we going?” Y/N breathed out, her hand in Dean’s, a bright smile gracing her beautiful features as they ran together, twigs and branches scratching their skin, trying to slow them down.

The corners of his lips quirked up in a cheeky smirk.

It was hard to believe, really, but life had been good to him lately. They were almost ready to graduate, Y/N had gotten accepted into Columbia and, with his dad and Bobby’s help he’d be able to follow her to New York and start working as a mechanic like he’d always wanted.

And, thank God, she was doing better. The days she’d spent laying on a hospital bed, wounded and bruised, were long gone and she was happy and lively once more, had that spark in her eyes that made him fall in love with her all over again.

“You’ll see.” He winked, giving her hand a squeeze for good measure.

“But the other guys, they’re going to-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout them. They’re too busy to notice we’re gone.”

Much to his surprise, she gave him a dirty look but he could see through her façade, could see the smile she was trying to hide.

“Am I going to regret trusting you?”

He looked at her in controlled annoyance, lips pursed.

“Pffft. Have you ever regretting trusting me?” he scoffed. Then. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

She snorted out a laugh, biting on her bottom lip. They had reached the lake by now and, despite the fact they’d spent countless afternoons there, talking and dreaming, hanging from trees and pretending to be monkeys, she was too caught up into their conversation to notice.

So, he smirked and pulled her closer, mischief coating his features.

“So. Just out of curiosity.” He said, rumbling and reticent. “All of your stitches are gone, right?”

Stopping short in her tracks, she squinted at him in confusion.

It was kind of adorable.

“Yes. Why would you ask me- oh no. Dean Winchester, don’t you da- goddammit!” she growled as he lifted her over his shoulder and headed towards the shoreline.

“Put me down. I swear to God, Winchester, put me down right fucking now!”

“Too late, princess.” He chuckled, slapping her butt. “You’re going down with me.”

“Don’t you dare, you little piece of-”

His laugh swallowed the rest of the words as he dove in, the icy water pricking his skin like the sharpest of needles. But then, he was up again in a minute, crazy laughter escaping him, while she spluttered and yelled and called him names.

“You think you’re funny?”

“I think I’m adorable.” He retorted, pouting.

“Cheeky bastard.” More laughter. “Oh, yeah laugh it off, you dick.”

He chuckled again, throaty but warm, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.

“C’mere.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple, chin rested on the top of her head. “And stop pouting. You don’t have a sexy pout.

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I’m awesome. And nice to look at.”

“Dear God. My best friend’s a screwball.” She whined, eyes darting up to the sky in frustration.

And still, when she glanced at him again under the moonlight a few seconds later, he smiled. He hated to admit it but it wasn’t so long ago that he was worried he’d never be able to see those beautiful eyes looking back at him again.

“What?” she chortled nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I dunno… Like I’m some sort of miracle.”

He chuckled, despite himself.

“No reason.” A glare. “It’s just, uh. I’m glad you’re okay. I was, um, I was worried about you after, uh, you know…”

“I do. And I love you for that.” She smiled, soft but consuming, running soothing circles on his back. “But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Like ever. So, you’re just… stuck with me I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Best friends forever, D. Remember?”

He nodded, locking his pinky with hers.

“Forever and ever, sweetheart.”

She’d beamed at him then, his gaze roaming over her face before settling on her lips again, those lips he wanted to kiss almost every time he saw them curl up in a smile. So, he leaned a little closer, fingers threading in her hair gingerly, and sighed in relief when her grip tightened around his waist because it was all he needed to continue.

Until, of course, he heard those goddamn footsteps and Sam’s and Jo’s singsong voices tattling Y/N and Dean up in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g as they waved at them from the shore.

Groaning, he narrowed his eyes and cursed under his breath, while Y/N simply huffed, burying her face into his chest, soft chuckles caressing his clothed skin.

“M’ sorry about that.” He whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“’S okay, D. Not your fault they’re dickheads.” She taunted and he laughed, forever in love with the cute way she scrunched up her nose in indignation.

“Yes, they are.”

It came out as a growl, but his expression softened the moment his eyes landed on her and his fingers reached for hers. “What do you think? Want to teach them a lesson.”

She titled her head, brow slanted.

“Absolutely.” She agreed, mischief floating across her face. “But before we do that.” She added quickly, face turning suddenly serious. “I meant what I said earlier. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, D.”

He shook his head, kissing her forehead, grin as wide as it could be.

“I think I can live with that, cherry pie.”

“Hey. Chief? Chief.” His best friend chanted, gruff voice piercing through the fog of memories only to scatter them around like confetti.

“Huh?”

“You okay? I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean implored indifferently, wiping grease of his face.

Benny huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah. But all you’ve been doing is staring blankly at that wall.” He paused, giving the eldest Winchester a once over skeptically. “D’ ya get any sleep last night?”

Dean shrugged, untwisting the cap off of a bottle of water.

“Sure did.”

“Yeah, right.” The blue-eyed man snorted, not even bothering to hide the slight curl of his lips, pointedly ignoring the murderous looks thrown his way.

There was a brief silence during which Dean stupidly thought he was off the hook and then-

“You were thinking about Butter Cup again, weren’t ya?”

And, dammit, despite the fact he’d seen this coming, his heart still dropped at the mention of Y/N’s nickname. It wounded him, how a name he’d always associated with movie nights spent cuddling by the fireplace, lazy Sunday mornings and that indescribable yet heartwarming feeling of home and belonging, now cut deep into his very soul every time someone even whispered it.

Swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat, he clenched his jaw, eyes focused on the silver ring he was wearing, the one she’d bought for him when they moved into the City together.

“I just…” he paused, a silence of smoke and mirrors as he tried to stop himself from saying too much.

But then again, maybe that had been part of the problem. Maybe he’d kept a lot of things to himself.

He sighed, defeated.

“I miss her, man. My whole life, Y/N’s just… She was right there. And now she’s not and I don’t know…”

“Well, do something about it.” The other man chided, rubbing his forehead.

“Do what exactly? Because you and I both know that I’m running out of options here, Benny.” The Winchester grounded out, green eyes flaring in aggravation. “I mean, I’ve called and left messages and tons of voice mails and she won’t call me back. Hell, she won’t call her parents back. And I’m just….” He fidgeted with the rag in his hands “Maybe she just changed her mind. Maybe she wants nothing to do with me.”

Benny chuckled at that, holding his hands up.

“Or maybe you need to try harder.”

That earned him a sharp glare.

“You don’t get it.” Dean grounded out through gritted teeth. “I hurt her. She was in love with me and I… She’s seen things, I’ve told her things that… I just never thought….” he stopped, hoping that his friend had missed the way his voice had wavered. “It’s pathetic really. I was so afraid to tell her the truth because I didn’t want to lose her. And now...” he dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Bring her back. Go find her. Beg her to give your stupid ass a chance.”

A sign.

“I don’t even know where she is, Benny.”

Instead of replying, Benny spread his arms in a shrug, sly grin on full display.

“I do.”

“You… Man, if you’re messing with me, I swear-”

“Gimme a break, brother. I wouldn’t lie to ya ‘bout this.” Benny retorted, searching for something in his pockets. “Here. Sam dropped this off for ya this morning. Said something ‘bout being tired of watching you pine over Y/N.”

Dean rolled his eyes, offended.

“Wow. Wow. Wait a minute. I ain’t pining.”

The blue-eyed man chuckled in amusement at that, mumbling something that sounded awfully like sure you’re not, chief under his breath but his friend ignored him in favor of the envelope he was holding, mind already flooding with throbbing memories of that other letter, the one that had caused his entire world to come crumbling down over a month ago.

To the boy that went through my underwear drawer and stole my diary (even if my sister took the blame for that one.)

When Y/N was five, she came back home from the playground one day, all excited and smiley, and couldn’t stop talking about a new friend she’d made, a little boy with freckles, sandy blonde hair and pretty green eyes.

I knew then you’d be trouble, Winchester.

And, God, I was right.

You two became inseparable after that and, even though you drove me demented sometimes, I was glad that my baby sis had found someone that always had her back no matter what, someone that loved her so fiercely and unconditionally. I’ve always known that you were in love with her, Dean, and, to be honest, I think everyone else did as well -I even remember dad telling mum to keep an eye on you the day you’d kissed her cheek and given her one of your plastic soldiers after a playdate.

And I’m thankful. I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for Y/N and I think the world of you. And, because of these things, I want you to know that, no matter what has happened in these past few weeks I don’t blame you for anything and that I believe, with everything I have, that there’s no better man for her.

Which brings us to this. There’s an address behind this page that will lead you to a place somewhere in Maine. Our cousin, Lexie -the one with the long legs?- has a place there and Y/N’s been staying with her.

Go find her, yeah? I want you two to get married and be disgustingly in love for the rest of your lives and have annoying sweet children that I can spoil. So, go find her.

Love,

Leslie

PS. I’m rooting for you two. Don’t let me down.

Dean stared at the piece of paper, afraid that if he closed his eyes even for a second the words would disappear forever and he’d lose Y/N once again.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up, clutching the letter in his hands.

“Benny, I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“I do.” Benny smiled, southern accent warming Dean’s heart. “Go get your girl, brother.”

When Dean parked the Impala at a lay-bay somewhere in Portland almost six hours later, the colors of the sky had deepened and darkened, and all of his previous excitement had been overshadowed, then melted away, giving way to something more obscure and distressing.

For in all honesty, Dean was pissed. In fact, he was fuming because Y/N had been so damn close to him right from the start and, yet, he hadn’t been able to find her. He’d looked everywhere, in New York, in Lawrence, in Bobby’s house in Sioux Falls, and yet, she’d been hiding in frigging Maine the entire time.

“Okay.” He muttered to himself, leaning against his car. “Okay, okay, okay. You can’t screw this up again, Winchester.”

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her necklace, the long chain cold against his hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Okay. You’ve got this man. She’s your best friend. You’ve got this.”

With a curt nod, he locked the Impala and whispered a breathless wish me luck, Baby, then headed towards the house.

Granted, it was beautiful, the kind of residency she’s always wanted for herself and, for a brief second, Dean wondered whether he was doing the right thing.

Maybe he should leave Y/N alone. Maybe she was happy with her new life. Maybe she had moved on and maybe she was even grateful she’d gotten rid of him. God knew it wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

Maybe.

The constant rumbling in his head made him want to turn back around, get into his car and drive away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled deeply, let Benny’s words ring inside his head soundlessly a couple of times, and rapped his knuckles down on the wooden door. He waited, one, two, three, four long bits and then…

“Hello, mate. Anything I can do for you?”

No.

No, no, no.

This could not be happening.

Dean blinked, hoping that he was hallucinating, but when he opened his eyes again, it was still there. He was still there.

A man in his early thirties was leaning against the door, a brash smile on his lips as he glanced at Dean. He was shorter than him, with short brown hair, an annoyingly perfect British accent and a very naked chest on full display.

Dean looked into his eyes. They were green.

Clenching his jaw almost painfully, he took in the tousled hair and the towel he had wrapped around his waist and it suddenly felt as if someone had actually punched all the air out of his lungs.

He could almost see it, really. He could see snapshots of Y/N smiling at Mr. Towel like she used to smile at him, could hear the way she laughed at his lame British jokes, could picture them kissing and making love, touching and pulling and…

God. He needed to get out of there. He needed to-

“Dean?”

It came out as a whisper, sounded almost like a prayer, and before he knew it she was standing right in front of him, head titled to the left in disbelief.

And, of course, all he could do was stare, at the colors and the creases, the curves and the skin and the strands of hair he’d missed so much.

Fuck, she looked beautiful. More beautiful than he remembered. And still, there was something in her eyes, something that so distinctly reminded him of that day they’d been fighting about his parents’ divorce all those years ago, that made his heart ache and settled something heavy in his stomach.

And that look hurt him so much that he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and wipe that look of sadness off her face like he knew he could, wanted nothing more than to make it okay, but he was afraid that it was too late.

So, he just smiled a half-smile to hide his brokenness, then waggled his fingers in acknowledgment.

“Hi there, cherry pie.”

She swallowed loudly at the nickname. It shattered what was left of his heart.

“What are you…” she sighed, glancing at Mr. Towel nervously, hands tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. No, don’t worry, everything… Everything’s fine. I just, uh…” Dean cleared his throat, hand scratching the back of his neck. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Didn’t mean to interrupt so I’ll just…”

“Wait. Dean, I-”

It’s okay, baby. I just want you to be happy.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispered, despite the tightness of his throat. Looking at her, his mind brimmed with painful thoughts, and he reached for his pocket. “Here.” He muttered, holding her necklace. “You should have this.”

He couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw her bottom lip wobbling.

“I can’t take that.”

He smiled sadly.

“You should. ‘S yours.” A pause. “‘S always been yours.”

“I…” She ran a hand over her face tiredly. “Jesus, I really don’t know what to say right now.”

“Well,” Dean chuckled breathlessly “that’s a feat.”

“Thank you.” Y/N murmured and tried to smile but ended up frowning.

Mr. Towel cleared his throat.

“Dean, mate. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

Okay. That was weird.

“No. Uh, thank you but I have-”

“Tosh. I’m taking Lexie out tonight so Y/N could use the company. From what I hear you two have a lot to talk about.”

Dean’s eyes darted from Mr. Towel to Y/N who seemed simply terrified.

His heart beat wildly in his chest.

He was definitely missing something.

“From what you he- I’m sorry, you know who I am?”

The man smiled gently.

“Yes. I do. Lexie’s told me lots of things about you. I’m Will, by the way. Lexie’s boyfriend.” he explained, shaking Dean’s hand. “It’s good to finally meet you. Lex thinks you’re the bee’s knee.”

“I’m what?”

Y/N smirked ever so slightly.

“It’s a compliment, Dean. Just go with it.”

Right.

Raising an eyebrow, the eldest Winchester smiled tightly in response, shoving his hands inside his pockets sheepishly.

“Well then. I’ll just go get ready.” Will announced, glancing at him. Then, he turned to Y/N. “I’ll, uh, take Lexie back to my place tonight. We’re leaving through the back door to give you two some space.”

Y/N smiled softly at that, leaning in to peck his cheek and, even though Dean knew that there was absolutely nothing going on between the two of them, he was still insanely jealous because he couldn’t help but think that perhaps he’d never be able to have that with her again.

A few seconds later Will was gone, and he was alone with Y/N, her hands wrapped around her little frame, teeth chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

“So…” he started quietly. “Hot cousin Lexie ending up dating a Brit?”

It took a few seconds but as soon as Y/N realized he was joking she chuckle lightly, eyes wide with gratitude.

“Yeah, he’s… He’s a bit dorky but he’s a good guy.” She mumbled, picking at a loose thread at the end of her sleeve. “And he’s been really nice to me so…”

He nodded, shaking his head.

“Good. That’s… good.” He mumbled, green orbs drinking her in, then smirked playfully at the red and blue garment she was wearing. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that flannel by the way.”

She grinned, just a bit.

“No, you haven’t. I stole that like five years ago and you never even noticed.” She scoffed, trying to suppress another gorgeous smile. “Plus. It looks better on me.”

He laughed then, first real laugh in a month.

“God, I missed you, sweetheart.”

The smile dropped from her face just as the words came out of his mouth and he internally winced.

“What are you doing here, Dean?”

Ouch. That hurt.

So, he let out a stuffy chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wow. Good to see you too, Y/N.”

“It is good to see you.” she admonished, rolling her eyes. “You have no idea what this month’s been like but-”

“I wanted to talk to you. That’s why I came.” he cut her off, holding his arms away from his sides. “I mean, dammit, Y/N, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and then disappear. I was worried about you.”

Her eyes fell to the floor, hands rubbing her jeans.

“I know.” She whispered and her confession made him stiffen because now everything hurt twice as much. And, all of the sudden, despite the relief that Y/N was fine and safe and concrete in front of him, he was mad.

“You know?” he implored, incredulous, then chuckled humorlessly. “Well, not to sound too clingy or anything but if you knew you could have called. Hell, you said you would, you said it in that goddamn letter and then you just went off the radar. Just like that.” He smiled, sad and brittle. “And I tried, Y/N. I tried.”

“I know.” She snapped, throwing her hands up. “I know, alright? But I couldn’t just…. What was I supposed to say? Howdy, Dean. Sorry I fell in love with you and ruined your wedding. How’s Sammy doing?” she laughed, bitter.

“Yeah.” He argued, clenching his jaw. “You could have said that. As a matter of fact, you could have said just about anything. We’ve been best friends since we were five for fuck’s sake. I deserved a frigging phone call.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Her voice came out smaller this time but it just egged him on.

“Then why the hell-”

“Because I screwed everything up.” She shouted, Y/E/C eyes ablaze with unshed tears.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with tension and secrets, burned by shared memories and implicit guilt.

When she spoke again, her eyes were far too serious, and her body sagged tiredly.

“Look. I don’t expect you to understand. But I did miss you. Every single day. And I am sorry. And I wanted to call. God, Dean, I wanted to call you so much that it hurt.” Her voice cracked just a little.

He hated the sound, hated it with his entire being, and every cell of his body was screaming at him to wrap his arms around her, hold her against him and kiss her hair, to tell her that it was okay and that he’d already forgiven her.

He didn’t move.

“I’m not used to being without you, D. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I… I left. I ruined what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. And I don’t get to just come marching in your life again, asking you for a clean slate like nothing happened.”

Dean looked at her, stunned, teeth clamped together, jaw quivering

“Jesus Christ. What the- okay, honestly, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Dean-”

“Shut up.” He howled, clamping a hand over his mouth. “Just…” he sighed, fingers running through his short hair “C’mere.”

“You – D., we shouldn’t-”

“Don’t care. Just come here, baby.”

He didn’t know whether it was what he’d said that prompted her to move or the look in his eyes or his overall desperation but she started walking towards him almost immediately and only stopped when he reached for her hand and slipped his fingers through hers.

“I missed you.” he whispered, deep and husky, green eyes searching hers.

“I missed you too.”

“Thank God.” he murmured, letting out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and then he was pulling her to him, arms wrapping around her waist, face buried in her hair.

Dean didn’t know how long they stayed like this, steady heartbeats and even breaths a needed reminder that the other person was real and not just a product of their imagination, but he knew that he kissed the side of her head afterwards, pulled away and looked at her, one of his hands titling her face up.

“Never leave me like that again.”

She nodded, a sob escaping her lips.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Ssssh,” he cooed, pulling her to him again, lips on her temple in a sweet kiss. “’S okay. I’ve got you now.”

She tensed under him, placing a hand flat on his chest.

“No. Dean, I can’t- I’m not coming back. I’m sorry but I can’t…”

“Did you mean all those things you said in the letter?”

She sighed, eyes darting to the floor.

“Yes. I did. I know they must have hurt you, but I did. It’s because I love you so much that I can’t-”

“I love you too.”

“I know but not like-”

“My God, you never shut up, do you?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you.” he repeated, lacing his fingers with hers only to bring their joined hands to his lips and kiss her knuckles. “I am in love with you, sweetheart. And, in a way, I think I’ve always been, ever since that day in the playground.”

Y/N squinted at him, incredulity coating her features.

“But all those women, Lisa-”

He smiled, sheepish and sad.

“Part of my plan, well, my, uh, stupid plan to find someone just to try and get over you. Lisa… Lisa’s beautiful and sweet and for a moment I really thought we could work. But she’s not you. You are…” he sucked in a breath, eyes closing shut as he let his fingertips graze the edge of her jaw. “You’re home, sweetheart. I look at you and I’m home.”

“Dean-”

“No. Just listen, okay?” he pleaded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know I hurt you.”

“We both hurt each other, D.”

“’S not the same. I proposed to someone else. Fuck, I asked you to help me with my vows.” He laughed, self-deprecating. “So, I think we can both agree that I royally fucked up but I don’t think I can… I can’t lose you. And if you give me a chance, if give us a chance, then I swear to God, Y/N, I’ll do anything to make sure you won’t regret it.”

She nodded, eyebrows lifted.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” He croaked, breathy and scraped.

“So, you’d be willing to like, get on a plane or something? Or would you… Man, would you let me drive Baby?”

That familiar sparkle twinkled in her eyes as she spoke and, for the first time in a month, he felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously? I bare my soul to you and you’re being a frigging brat about it?”

She chuckled, sunny and happy as his arms snaked around her waist.

“Yes. But you love it.”

“Yeah.” He whispered as he clasped a hand on the nape of her neck, head bent until he could feel her breath on his face. “Yeah, I do.”

She grinned, lips almost brushing against his own.

“Hmmm. Oh, and Dean?”

He hummed, forehead pressed against hers.

“You’re home too.”

He smiled the smile of child on Christmas morning and pressed his mouth softly on hers like he’d been dreaming about for years, lips locked in a kiss that was long overdue and soaked with a flurry of emotions and years of unspoken love.

It was slow at first, fragile and attentive, but then she let out a whimper and he smirked, threading his fingers in her hair and splaying his other hand over her back, pressing her against him until he swore he could feel her heartbeat on his chest and his universe had snapped into focus.

She slid one hand up the muscles of his back and it was all he needed to deepen the kiss, part her lips with his tongue and explore her mouth with everything he had. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries and, as she kissed him back thoroughly, like she’d thought about this as many times as he had -maybe even more, he reckoned that he’d never tasted anything better.

It took a minute for him to float back to Earth when it was all over, and he sighed, breath stolen by the kiss.

“Wow.”

He laughed, low and wrecked, nose brushing up against hers.

“Wow. That was-”

“I know. Been wanting to do that since we were kids.” He confessed, his hand running up and down her side.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because you can be very intimidating. I was afraid you’d punch me.”

She laughed, that breathy laugh that reminded him of bubbly rivers and bird songs and sunshine.

“Well, I do have a mean right hook.”

“Meanest right hook I’ve ever seen, Killer.” He agreed, pressing a kiss on the side of her head. “But I think it’s time to stop being afraid.”

She nodded, one hand on his shoulder, the thumb of the other one tracing his jawline.

“I think I agree.”

He smirked.

“No more running then?”

She grinned, heat dancing in her eyes, a look she often got when she knew she could sweet talk Dean into anything she had in mind.

“No more running.” She murmured, lips brushing his. “Not if you want to do this with me.”

He beamed, eyes soft and so full of affection.

“Cherry pie, I want to do everything with you.”

And then he kissed her again.

Dean blinked as bright sunlight flowed through the messily drawn curtains, sleepy eyes focused on the girl in his arms. He had a hard time believing it but Y/N was there, her back pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around her waist firmly, face buried in the crook of her neck. He had a hard time believing it but Y/N was his.

So, he breathed her in, happy that her scent was now lingering on his skin as well, and kept his eyes glued to her face, knowing that he didn’t have to be afraid of getting caught staring anymore.

Smiling to himself, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder-blade, then trailed her skin with his lips until he reached her neck, gently nipping and sucking, his scruff tickling her.

She groaned and mumbled something unintelligibly, hands reaching down to cover his.

“Mmmm.”

He chuckled, heart swelling with love.

“’Morning, sweetheart.” he whispered against her, pressing a kiss to that spot where her neck dipped into her shoulder.

She turned around to face him, Y/E/C boring into his.

“You’re still here.”

Dean looked at her, lips pursed, brows knitted together.

“’Course I’m still here…” he muttered, kissing her forehead. “D’you really think I’d leave?”

She smiled lazily, shaking her head.

“No. Just worried this wasn’t real.” she explained, lacing her fingers with his.

He chuckled, warm and adoring, leaning in until their breaths were mingling.

“Well, it is.” He promised, kissing her sweetly, lips dancing together like they had been doing it for years. “This is very…” kiss “…very….” kiss “…real.”

She chuckled in response, beautiful face glowing as he rolled on top of her, hands already tracing curves and dimples, peppering her jawline with feather-light kisses.

She whimpered beneath him, lips pink and kiss-swollen and, God, he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

“D.”

He hummed lazily, latching his lips onto her neck, determined to map every vein, trace every inch of smooth skin like he had wanted to do for years, and kept going until it was too much, then pressed his forehead against hers.

“Question…” he stated, pecking the tip of her nose “I know we agreed to take this slow, but how slow exactly?”

Letting out a laugh, mischief coated her figures and she let her fingers twine in his short locks.

“Don’t know, D.” she mumbled, pecking his jaw. “You’re the one that wanted woo me before getting me to bed.”

He smirked, cheeky and bashful, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“So, if I were to do this…” he whispered, breath hot on her earlobe as his hand slipped under the flannel she was wearing and gripped on her waist only to end up cupping her breast “…you’d be okay with it?”

“I’d be more than okay with it.” She agreed, mouth warm and perfect on his.

They were a mess of limbs after that, all secret smiles and heated glances and before he knew it, she was shirtless and his hands and lips and eyes could finally wander everywhere they’d never dared before.

“You’re…” he stopped, looking back up to meet her eyes. “God, sweetheart, you’re just… So gorgeous.”

She smiled, cheeks flushing red, then reached to twist the worn leather of his amulet around her fingers, effectively pulling him closer.

“Y/N. Dean. Are you guys in there?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Dean whined, letting his face drop in the crook of her neck dramatically, prompting a breathless chuckle from her followed by a quick ‘m sorry.

“Yeah, we’re kind of in the middle of something here, Lex.” she howled, shaking her head. “Everything okay?”

“Nope.”

Jesus, Lexie sounded pissed.

“Listen, I don’t care what you and Pretty Boy have been doing in my bed all night but you better be up and ready to go in half an hour or I’m going to kick your sexy ass.”

“Half an -oh, crap.”

“What? What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, nose scrunched up in the cutest of ways.

“She’s meeting Will’s parents for breakfast today. Crap. I was supposed to go with her. Ugh.”

He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment.

“You can’t just not go, right?” he fished, tucking a stray of hair behind her ear.

She pursed her lips, thoughtful.

“Well, I could but-”

“’S alright.” He cut her off, pecking her lips. “She’s been there for you this past month. You should go.”

And, Jesus Christ, even though the idea of not finishing what they had started hurt him, that smile she smiled for him, that brilliant smile that he’d do anything, absolutely anything to see every minute of every hour of every day made his heart flutter so fast inside his chest that everything else was forgotten.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh. I am going to need a cold shower though.”

She snorted out a laugh, the sound adorable.

“Okay. Tell you what. After that cold shower, you’re coming with. And when we’re done, I’m packing my stuff so we can get the hell out of here.”

He hummed, licking his lips.

“And go where exactly?”

“Well…” she started, fingers running through his hair leisurely. “I was thinking your place.”

“God, I love you.” he whispered, kissing her eyelids lovingly.

“Hmmm. Love you too, Deanie Beanie.”

“Seriously?” he bawled, rolling his eyes. “Okay, you know what? If you really want us to bang, you have to stop calling me that.”

Y/N barked out a breathy laugh, shoulders shaking along with it.

“Bang? Hate to break it to you, Winchester, but I’m pretty sure people stopped banging in the 90’s.” She gushed, wrapping her arms around his. “And I’m never dropping that nickname. ‘S our thing.” She added, teasing smirk on full display. “Plus. It reminds me of the little boy that wanted to run away with me because our parents wouldn’t let us go to Disneyland together.”

“You remember that?” he implored, ears turning pink.

“I remember everything, D.” she beamed, pecking his neck. “Now. Are you sure you’re okay with us going to that thing?”

His heart warmed at the tenderness in her voice.

“Yup.” A forehead kiss. “Don’t worry too much ‘bout it. We’ve got time, cherry pie.”

“We do?”

“Absolutely.” He replied, grinning playfully, his pinky already reaching for hers. “Forever and ever, right?”

She smiled.

It was the smile of that little girl that had offered him half of her cherry pie when he’d defended her in front of an older kid. The smile that made him blush when he’d let her sleep next to him during a thunderstorm. It was the smile she gave him the day he promised her they’d always be friends, the same smile she had been wearing the first time he’d wanted to kiss her. It was the smile that carried with it their first I-love-yous and that night they’d danced to Bob Seger in the darkness of his bedroom. It was the same smile he was afraid he’d never see again after he read that letter.

And yet, there it was, bright and warm and real and his.

“Forever and ever.”

He smiled back at those precious words, green eyes glinting with happiness.

He was home.

The Promise Tags: @tiny-friggin-human @xfanqirlinq @vougebandit @imagine-that-100 @kaylynnw428 @mortallymagicalobject @wii-im-a-panda @imaginesofdreams @charliebradbury1104 @luci-in-trenchcoats @nerdwholikesword @avengersgirllorianna @selenakaulitz @brittanyoyens @unknown-chronicles @docharleythegeekqueen @jaspesangriento @daintyhibiscus @brihughes4 @trexrambling @captainradicalpassion @bloodytwins125

Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @imagining-supernatural @impala-dreamer @becs-bunker @winchestersnco @wordstothewisereaders @pickupthatamulet @escabell @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @winchestersflannel

If you’re like this for some reason I couldn’t tag you, I’m really sorry.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #au!dean x reader #spn insert #au!dean winchester x reader #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #you x dean winchester #spn au #spn fluff #spn angst #dean angst #spn insert au

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ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

(RF) Emulation

Active-Matrix

Simone Williams knew what she wanted from her life since the beginning of her realization of it – to be useful. She figures wherever she is needed, she will not be discarded. Her consciousness of being required is the shape of everything.

Biometrics

The Arranged Marriage System came in perfect alignment with Simone. To her, a world with arranged marriages as the norm is not an unusual one because she never contemplates beyond what is presented to her. Her pending marriage is a way for her to sustain her future, so she partakes, without a complaint. She doesn’t remember creating a profile and it is very likely that one was created for her. She can’t think of which picture was on display for her potential suitors the day that she and Miles were linked. She remembers Miles’ profile though: in the one-hundred and nineteenth percentile of the intelligence quotient, his face seventy-five percent symmetric, a high paying job, plenty of hobbies. His profile contained the perfect ingredients that were encouraged for people to go after – Miles is the perfect recipe that Simone will consume in her favor, for the time being.

Miles Hayes

The fireplace is crackling in their contemporary-styled home just how it should as Miles Hayes and Simone Williams sit and take a break from picking out a wedding venue. Miles is looking into Simone’s dark pupils and recalling the first time he’d seen her profile. He strokes the nape of her neck and tells her that she was and still is the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Simone braces herself and childishly clutches the crimson throw pillow that rests between her legs, as she is uncomfortable with compliments due to never knowing how to form a reply. Even with Miles, even when she was first looped into his compatibility pool and even when he had first messaged her the exact words he’d just said.

Love: Type 1

Miles’ love for Simone survives off one sole reason: she is beautiful. His interest in marriage stems from tradition and the hope and dream to procreate with a beautiful woman, to ultimately have spectacular looking children. Finally getting to the process of booking a wedding venue excites Miles, for he’s one step closer to his ultimate dream.

Emoticon, also Love: Type 2

Simone doesn’t know whether she loves Miles or not, this isn’t a factor for her. She loves stable environments, and he provides that for her. Well, he and the Arranged Marriage System that was put into place.

“Voluntarily or enrolled?” Miles asked on their first date.

“Voluntary because I was enrolled.” She’d answered before wiping her mouth with an overly soft handkerchief. She had disapprovingly stared down at the now lipstick-stained cloth, agitated that a restaurant would use them instead of something safer and more disposable. She tried to pinpoint this distress towards the handkerchief, but the source had no recognizable origin.

Miles questioned her statement, but only in his mind. He’d decided to compliment her hair, noting how her dysfunctional curls, although in sync, took on a new hue under the light.

He’d taken the handkerchief from her hands and left it on the table as they abruptly left. Miles wanted to get her picture outside before the sun set.

Impression

That night, Cain Pierce was on a first date as well – forced and unnatural, out of sorts. If only he had landed that job he dreamed of, he would have put plenty of use to his brain, his hobbies would have been bountiful. But he had none of those three. Cain was beat by only three points when it came to overall proficiency for the job, which forced him to apply for others that he felt were beneath him. This alternative put him in the lower bracket of the Arranged Marriage System, and Cain had almost gotten over this betrayal of life until he was at the dinner table that night. He’d seen Miles Hayes, the man that bested him, on a date with a woman who Cain felt was better suited for himself. Watching them interlace their fingers and walk out into the golden, orange stream of the setting sun, Cain began to contemplate.

Motherboard

I should mention something about the Arranged Marriage System. Of course a system is no good if its components lack in what the structure is all about. This was among some of the earlier complaints. Nobody felt like they were getting matched with partners that were up to par with themselves. So, with a few tweaks and reproductions, the marriage system hasn’t had complaints since then.

Love: Type 3

Except for Cain’s case, because his views on marriage were simple – if he liked her enough to love her then marriage would be considered. Putting a ring on a woman’s finger wasn’t necessarily a goal or a plan to Cain, but instead was something that would just come with the flow of things. According to him, the marriage system had ruined his life. He didn’t understand the obsession with it, the stability found in it. Suddenly, Cain felt as if marriage had lost all its value, the allurement gone. He was left to scrape the bottom of the barrel, with every step being counted for him.

Macro

I have one job and I do it unremarkably. I left out one small detail from the night of Cain’s first date. As he was leaving, Cain lingered behind and smoothly swiped the used handkerchief that was smeared with Simone’s lipstick. He folded it neatly, as if it were his own, and slid it into his left breast pocket. He had no plans to do anything with the handkerchief except use it as another reminder of the life that he hated – until he saw Miles Hayes for a second time, modeling the life Cain felt belonged to him.

Safe Mode

The first time Cain Pierce saw Miles Hayes was at the job interview, although Cain’s deep-seated resentment hadn’t nestled into his being just yet. Simone was the one to trigger that reaction.

There’s this thing about Simone I briefly mentioned before, she takes what is sat in front of her and makes it her own. She does not create her own reality, but instead builds on what is already in place. Every act of her life is a plan – easy to follow, easy to detect. She goes on jogs because she saw it in a movie, she grocery shops every week because she thinks it’s right. In fact, an anti-cliché advocate would cringe at the long piece of French bread that sticks out of her brown grocery bag after every trip.

Cain picked up on Simone’s lifestyle quickly, given the extremity of her repetitive nature. Soon, he frequented the same store as her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to begin again.

User Interface

“You like French bread, I see.”

Simone looked up from the assortment of cooked dough and into Cain’s eyes. She released a smile and returned her gaze to the bread.

“Hm, it’s okay. It just looks pretty.” Simone stuck the bread into a cloth and into her basket. She paid Cain no attention as she went down another aisle.

Cain, in desperation to make a connect, was eager to prove that he had what it took for a woman, a candidate, like Simone.

“Are you… arranged?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Pending.” Simone said, smiling thinking of her future with Miles.

“Do you love him?”

Simone looked at Cain intensely, eyebrows furrowed, frozen, with not even a blink. Not at his forward question, but because she did not know the answer to it. Simone relaxed herself and smiled. “I’m taken care of, and doesn’t love come with that?”

Love: Type 4

I’m just the narrator, but I have an opinion to offer about this subject of love. Love is a variation of our existence and because each of our existences are ultimately different – love cannot mean just one thing. Variations always offer subjective answers, where a conclusion is rarely necessary.

But Cain would strongly disagree, he felt love stood on its own. No variations, no factors. Wherever it was, it needed nothing to lean on – not even an acknowledgement of its presence. To Cain, that was love’s conclusion.

Memory

While talking to Cain in the store, Simone had a recollection of the beginning of her consciousness. This memory was why she’d said yes to going on a date with him, yes to a fourth, and yes to leaving Miles. Cain needed her.

On their sixth date was when Cain revealed the handkerchief to Simone. He recalled the moment he had decided to take it from the table as it fell into Simone’s hands. Smeared with the very lipstick that she was wearing that day – Simone admired how the color remained vibrant. She grazed the stain softly, not to disrupt it.

I think Simone identified with the handkerchief. Yes, she sees herself in this more improved development of a napkin. Less destructible, fancier, than the ordinary. But that’s what they were created for.

Access Point

Simone couldn’t pinpoint her sudden reaction of Cain keeping the handkerchief. She just spun around and laid on a soft plush surface – her surroundings eluded her. She indicated for Cain to unzip her dress, an act she saw on screen. She hadn’t suspected that he would object.

Cain slid the zipper down her back, the sound effect being the only indicator that any of this was real – and noticed a tattoo right in the middle of it. In black and bold ink, branded and thick:

“PROPERTY OF THE AMS: 526489”

submitted by /u/llexm [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3fB3PHc

#Blogger #Story

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themillenniumscribe · 7 years

Text

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (38)

(Yep. I am a garbage human who does not update often. Personal reasons have kept me away as well as conventions and costumes. But, here is the next chapter to move the story along! Enjoy and I will do my best to get the next one done in an orderly fashion...after next weekend...if Irma doesn’t try to take North Carolina with her...because I will be there...

Anyhoo, enjoy the spectacle! :D)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

Clarisa let out a heavy sigh of frustration. This was now the third time they had passed what looked like the same tree and dirt path combination. She desperately wanted to rant and rave about how poorly constructed this world seemed to be. However, with Kaiba’s already foul mood, she was reluctant to push any of his buttons.

“Damn! Where does this forest lead to?” It seemed that Clarisa wasn’t the only one who was frustrated, as Mokuba’s outburst seemed to indicate. Chewing on her tongue, she glanced over at the brunette, gauging his reaction.

“Damn you, Noah…” He cursed quietly. “Just you wait. I will escape from this ridiculous Virtual World and show you who’s boss…”

“The only thing I find ridiculous about this world is that a lot of the same scenery motifs have been used.” Clarisa piped up, blue eyes roving once more over the forest. “I have personally seen that tree at least half a dozen times.”

She pointed nonchalantly at one of the oak trees. Sure enough, the more the boys looked at the tree, the more they started to see similar details show up. Kaiba’s brow furrowed, azure eyes gazing at her curiously.

“You seem to have a keen eye for detail.” He murmured gently. She could have sworn she heard a pinch of admiration behind his words.

“Only when it comes to virtual displays.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Daddy always liked to make sure his daughters were kept up to date on his technology. That includes knowing when things are going wrong.”

As if on cue, another door appeared. It was the same wooden structure and Clarisa couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the familiar sight. Her mouth formed a hard line.

“You know, it’s like he’s never seen another kind of door….” She grumbled with a huff. Her displeasure was disregarded and the CEO immediately approached the door without hesitation. Though she was reluctant to trust the entryway, when Mokuba followed, she made her way through the wooden structure and into the dull room within.

Grey carpet covered the floor, given only a little bit of light from the massive wall of windows at the back of the office. The walls were just as dismal, barely registering color along with the mediocre wood stain. Everything was so monotone, glossed over with a hammered silver finish. As Clarisa studied the space, the more she felt the walls close in around her like some kind of prison cell.

“The…The President’s office of Kaiba Corporation…”

“Really?” She chimed in. “More like a bunker than an office.”

“You need something from me?” The chair at the back of the room spoke, the graveled voice ringing in their ears. All three of them froze, wondering for a second if they were the ones being addressed. Kaiba and Mokuba both looked surprised while Clarisa was struck dumb.

It wasn’t until the man turned around that the color drained from her face.

“Gozaburo…” She murmured, making Kaiba’s thoughts audible.

“Yes, I want to talk with you about the Virtual System I created.” Clarisa’s head snapped in Kaiba’s direction only to find the CEO hadn’t said anything at all. Instead, another image appeared, one of a younger Seto but older than the one she had seen previously.

He was taller and thinner, his flesh a little gaunt but still pink with youth. He was wearing a white uniform and black shoes, something Clarisa wasn’t used to seeing him in. In addition to his wardrobe change, his voice had undergone a transformation, the soothing bass timbre starting to appear.

“Your voice dropped quite early for a boy…”

“Shush!” Mokuba hissed, placing a finger to his mouth. Clarisa zipped her lips.

“I remember this…” Kaiba murmured, his tone almost gentle. “It was two years before I became the president…I was thirteen…”

Now this was intriguing to Clarisa. She had known that Kaiba was a young man when he took over Kaiba Corporation but she didn’t realize that he was that young. Her brow knitted together, lips pursing.

“I thought you were sixteen when you became Kaiba Corporation’s CEO…” Her head tilted to the side, studying the brunette carefully.

“He just turned sixteen when he took over…” Mokuba stated calmly. “He was about thirteen when this happened…”

“You were thirteen when you created the Solid Vision program?” Clarisa’s strong inquiry earned her a narrowing of the eyes from Kaiba. His shoulders tightened and his lips hardened.

“Yes,” He affirmed sternly. “Is that a concern?”

“Not so much a concern for you as it is for me.” She replied with a sigh, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “God, what am I doing with my life?”

“Playing chess and hanging out with us?” Mokuba’s hazel eyes met her own and Clarisa felt inadequate.

“It sounds so much worse when you say it…” She mumbled solemnly, returning her attention to the young Seto and Gozaburo.

“If that is what you want then I have nothing to say to you.” The older man gruffed out, picking up several papers on his desk. His dark eyes skimmed over the details, his face remaining as stoic as ever.

“I’m busy, Seto.” He responded firmly. “Leave.”

“I invented that system so everyone could enjoy games!” The young Seto argued, a young fire burning in his eyes. “But, you wanted to use it for war!”

Clarisa registered Kaiba flinching at her side.

“You didn’t hear me.” Gozaburo’s voice was eerily sterile. “Get out.”

“This system is not a war tool!” Seto cried out, his hands clenching into fists. “I invented it for people to use in the future Kaiba Land!”

Papers flew at the young Seto, striking him in the face as Gozaburo got to his feet. Clarisa could see the rage building behind his dark eyes and his voice boomed in the room.

“I said get out!” He roared. “You are still fixated on this Kaiba Land? It’s all nonsense! Such ridiculous games have no use in this world!”

Clarisa felt her heart sink in her chest and a fire settled there. She didn’t like what she was seeing. Not one bit.

“Listen very carefully, Seto!” Gozaburo’s yelling turned into a seething command. “The Kaiba family makes things that are of great use to mankind around the world! My objective is to dominate the world with my military business and I will start by the Virtual System you developed to reproduce the territory of the world so I can sell it to train soldiers.”

There was a steely wash that flashed over the man’s eyes and Clarisa watched as the young Seto’s face filled with a silent horror.

“You’re wrong! You can’t!” He put up a defiant front but it was in vain when security escorted him out. Clarisa watched the boy kick and scream, even addressing Gozaburo as his father a few times. She figured it was one of the last times he ever addressed Gozaburo as such.

The scene ended with a white out, pixels dancing around and the forest surrounded them once again. Clarisa must have been more disappointed than she thought because she actually made an audible groan when the scene took shape.

“Really!?” She exclaimed to the sky. “Forest again?!”

Silence answered her and she took a few breaths to calm herself. In the meantime, she eyed the two brothers carefully, noticing the concern on Mokuba’s face and the tension in Kaiba’s body. To her surprise, she noticed that his lips were pulled back in on themselves, pressing together as though to hold back something that was on his mind.

“He was willing to let countless people die in wars using my Virtual Software…” He whispered harshly. “Just so he could make a profit.”

His arms crossed over his chest, eyes averting to the ground.

“I couldn’t hand it over to that evil man. On that day, I lost all my respect for him and I made up my mind that Kaiba Corporation would belong to me.”

“So, what changed?”

Clarisa was alarmed when she saw the shock on Kaiba’s face. His eyes were wild, burning with an incredible ferocity at her challenging his narrative. Though she could feel the anxiety of a fight coming on, Clarisa didn’t back down and held her head high when she met his glare.

“What do you mean, Risa?” Mokuba asked tentatively. She could hear a sense of guilt behind his tone. Her eyes flicked his direction to register his question but all of her focus was on Kaiba.

“That boy I just saw was so full of life and light. He had a sense of hope in his ambition to make the world a better place. He believed in doing things for those who are less privileged and to fight for a dream that is inherently good. Nothing like the man I see now.” Her eyes narrowed on Kaiba, giving him a once over. His expression didn’t waver.

“I ask you again,” She inquired carefully. “What changed?”

She mostly expected Kaiba to shut her out again, give her a stony stare that commanded her to shut her trap with one angry glower. However, the longer they maintained eye contact, the more variety of emotions she began to catch in his eyes.

There was anger, of course, but where it was directed, Clarisa wasn’t sure. Mostly at her for sure, however, something told her it was also aimed at himself. Guilt was also present, buried deep but still visible to her eyes. The rest was a mixture of surprise and panic wrapped vainly in a blanket of half hearted stoicism.

“Gozaburo said that games were meaningless to the world. They served no purpose and were a waste of time.” Kaiba’s voice was low, softer than usual. A part of it felt like a confession that Clarisa wasn’t meant to hear.

“What he didn’t know was that we had been playing a game the whole time…and that was his downfall.”

“But, that doesn’t explain what changed if you were the one that made the game.” A flash of bitterness washed over his eyes as he flinched. His silence didn’t give her the answer but it slowly came to her as the world around them began to fade once more into pixels.

Kaiba may have made the game but Clarisa was about to find out who made the rules.

#yugioh #yugioh oc #yugioh brilliancy #clarisa swansea #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #gozaburo kaiba

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Stepping stone chapter 8

The sun is hot. My house will be even hotter.

I don’t want to go inside.

He gets angry when he’s hot.

I look at my bike that is lying in the ugly dead grass.

I should pick it up so I don’t get yelled at. Mom says that Grandma bought me that bike and I should take better care of it.

I’m too sweaty. I’ll put it away later.

I go into the apartment building and pinch my nose. The hallway always smells like a toilet. I need to get to my door where it doesn’t smell so much inside.

I hear yelling. Is that him?

No. It’s the crazy lady down the hall.

My backpack is so heavy.

I can’t wait to put it down.

Not on the floor, though. He’ll get mad if he trips.

I look at the numbers on the doors that I pass. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Three. The one is missing. I think it is supposed to say thirteen.

Almost there.

I reach the door that has the number fifteen and place my hand on the nob.

I bolted upright, the sound of the alarm clock ringing shrill in my ears. I reached over to the nightstand to silence it. I shook my head and tried to will away the images of the night. And the smells.

What the fuck?

At the very least, I was thankful that the alarm woke me before the dream went any further.

The last thing that I need to do is to start the day off analyzing that shit.

My brain felt foggy. I needed Selena. I sat up in bed and tried to remember what day it was.

Wednesday.

I scowled when I remembered that I hadn’t spoken to Selena since Monday. I was partly to blame for that, as the Canterwell deal took more finesse than I anticipated. What should have been a simple sign and go, wound up being dinner and drinks with George Canterwell about another potential property sale.

And the greedy bastard still wouldn’t budge on the price.

I rubbed my hands over the stubble on my face as I thought about the past two days. Despite my busy schedule, I still called and texted Selena multiple times, only to receive a short response or be ignored all together. I tried to stop by her floor, but found her conveniently busy in closed-door meetings with the employees from Turning Stone.

I knew when I was being put off, and I suspected that it was because she was still upset over my proposal. It was safe to assume that she’d be stubborn about accepting, but I hadn’t expected her to be outright angry.

Transferring ownership of Turning Stone to her was meant to put her more at ease. I didn’t want her employment status to be looming over us and potentially get in the way of our relationship. I understood the meaning of financial instability. I never wanted her to worry about having that stress. Giving her Turning Stone was merely a drop in the bucket, despite Stephen and Bryan’s arguments. It was a portion of my business that I had little time for anyways. My focus had always been, and always would be, real estate.

Enough is enough. She can’t continue on like this.

Feeling frustrated, I threw the blankets off and climbed out of bed.

I need a work out and a shower.

After completing a solid thirty minutes of cardio, I took a quick shower and dressed for the day. As I knotted my tie, I eyed up the line of clothes that were purchased for Selena. They took up an entire row of the walk-in closet, bright and colorful, and such a contrast to the utilitarian colored suits that I wore. The closet was hers as much as it was mine.

She belongs here. Regularly.

I toyed with the idea of convincing her to move in with me as I retrieved my cell from the dresser and I made my way to the kitchen.

One thing at a time, Stone.

I opened the refrigerator and was please to see that Vivian had recently gone grocery shopping. Fresh fruit had been cut and placed in airtight containers. My housekeeper was a godsend.

I sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools and began sifting through emails on my phone while I ate an assortment of melons and berries. I spotted one from Selena and immediately opened it first.

TO: Justin Stone

FROM: Selena Cole

SUBJECT: Your Offer

Justin,

After careful consideration, I have decided to accept your proposal. However, a few changes needed to be made to the plan that you laid out. I have attached a modified version of the buyout.

If you are in agreement, I would like to formally discuss it this afternoon. Please let me know what time works for you.

Selena

Buyout?

The contract was not a buyout. I was giving her the company straight out. Curious, I clicked on the attachment and read through it.

Her plan was no longer a transfer of ownership, but a buyout that was similar to a rent-to-own. She had researched fair market value for a firm that was the size of Turning Stone and renegotiated her salary to be a considerable amount less. The difference in her salary, as well as a portion of Turning Stone profits, would be paid to Stone Enterprise in the form of monthly payments with a term date.

I sat back in my chair, stunned over how well she played her hand. Her idea made sense, and I couldn’t believe that I didn’t think of it myself. I should have known that Selena would not accept an entire company for free, but rather work to obtain it on her own.

Miss Cole, you will never cease to amaze me.

Her revised plan would certainly stop Stephen and Bryan from balking so much. I forwarded her email on to them and requested that they meet in my office to discuss the new proposal at three o’clock. I then typed a quick response to Selena to let her know what time to meet us, and also reminded her of our shopping appointment later after work.

I hit send and smiled to myself, looking forward to having a very interesting day.

****

I sat down behind my computer with a steaming cup of coffee. I sipped it slowly, waiting to feel the surge of caffeine through my veins while I reviewed my calendar of appointments and list of things to do for the day. My first two days on the job had been long and tiring. I was beginning to understand why Justin wanted someone to take charge of Turning Stone Advertising.

While the company was profitable, it was apparent that it was not Justin’s main business focus. Between getting to know the somewhat reluctant-to-accept-change employees and sorting through existing and future ad campaign opportunities, I quickly learned that I had my work cut out for me. The employees, while creatively competent, could use some formal guidance. That fact alone was intimidating. I knew that I could handle the job aspects, but there was a big difference between being a boss and a leader. Having never had my leadership skills put to the test, I could only hope that I was up for the challenge.

I exited out of the calendar application and opened my inbox. The first thing to populate was an email from Justin. It was in response to the one that I sent that morning.

That was quick.

Nervous butterflies danced in my stomach. I wasn’t sure how he would take to my offer, but his reply came remarkably quick. I hesitantly clicked on the email.

FROM: Justin Stone

TO: Selena Cole

SUBJECT: Re: Your Offer

I’m glad that you’ve finally decided to break the silence. And here I thought that I would have to take you over my knee. I may still do exactly that, as just the mere thought is more than a little bit appealing. You’ve been away from me for too long, Miss Cole.

I’ve scheduled a meeting for us with my account and lawyer. Come to my office at 3 P.M. today so that we can discuss your proposal with them further. I don’t imagine that it will take very long. We should be done in plenty of time to follow through with our plans to costume shop tonight.

Justin Stone

CEO, Stone Enterprise

I frowned after reading his email, not knowing what to think about it. He didn’t give me any inclination as to whether or not he was going to accept my offer. To me, it wasn’t up for debate. I had thought long and hard about Justin’s proposal, which was the reason why I avoided him for two days. I needed to think on my own without the interference of his intensely determined sapphire eyes.

Ultimately, I concluded that taking Turning Stone free and clear was simply something I could not do. I would have been perfectly okay with managing the company or exploring partnership possibilities down the road, but I could never accept it freely if I hadn’t earned it. There was no pride in that. I valued the rewards that came from hard work too much.

I reread his email, looking for some sort of clue in regards to which way he was leaning. He said that he wanted us to met with his accountant and lawyer, which could potentially mean that he was considering the revised deal. That was a good sign. However, I knew Justin. He was anything but predictable. I needed to be braced for anything that he might throw at me.

I glanced up when I heard a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I called.

Clive, the lead marketing coordinator for Turning Stone, came in.

“Good Morning, Miss Cole.”

I shook my head at the way he so formally addressed me. He, along with the other employees at Turning Stone, were used to Justin’s ways. I wanted them to be more relaxed with me, as I believed that totalitarian rule over them would only result in stifling their creativity.

“Clive, I’ve already told you. There’s no need to be so formal. Selena is fine with me,” I said with a light laugh.

He smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, old habits die hard. I’ll try to remember in the future.”

I returned his smile, hoping to put him more at ease.

“Don’t sweat it. So, what do you have for me?” I asked, noting the large portfolio case that he was carrying.

“Billboard designs for Wally’s. Carol and I just finished the layout. If you have a minute, I’d like to go over them with you.”

“Sure thing. Let’s see what you came up with,” I said and stood up to walk over to the small conference table that sat in the corner of my office.

Clive pulled six different billboard designs from the portfolio case and spread them out over the table. The designs were sleek and polished, clearly displaying the diversity of the city while using catchy phrases to emphasize the high quality product standards of the grocer. However, I couldn’t help but feel like they were missing the essence of what Wally’s truly was.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Overall, I think that you and Carol did a fantastic job with them.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” he remarked somewhat dejectedly.

“Well, I do have a suggestion to make. Wally’s is a family owned business and a staple in so many communities. I think we could use that to our advantage with a few very subtle changes.”

I went on to tell Clive my thoughts on what to do, as well as share my first hand knowledge about the company. At first, he seemed skeptical, but he listened attentively. I watched him carefully while I spoke, not wanting him to think that I was putting down his creativities, but merely wanted to explore the possibility of capturing an additional audience. When his expression changed from being doubtful to enthusiastic, I knew that I had broken through.

“This is all great info!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to get with Carol again. We need to think out of the box on this one.”

I smiled at his newfound excitement over the Wally’s campaign. It was contagious.

“We do. Just keep in mind that Wally’s is trying to make a recovery after falling on hard times. I suggest that we keep our long term activities to ads that are proven to work, but still incorporate fresh ideas into shorter term ads in order to see what sticks.”

“I think we are going to have to appeal to each individual community separately,” he mused.

“I agree. Communities are the best place to start. Do you think you can have the new designs done by Friday? I have a meeting scheduled with Walter Roberts and I’d like to show him what Turning Stone has come up with.”

“It will be tough because we’re kind of backlogged, but I can shuffle a few things to make sure that it is.”

I frowned at hearing that, as I had been thinking about the staff’s workload just that morning during my cab ride into work. I had concerns over the many clients that were still waiting on design proofs.

“Clive, what do you think about hiring a few temps to get us caught up?”

I could see the relief sag in his shoulders immediately at my question.

“That would be extremely helpful, Miss Cole.”

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Miss Cole?”

“Sorry. That would be extremely helpful, Selena,” he said and grinned.

“Thanks,” I laughed. “Let me see what I can do about our staffing issue. There may be a temp agency that Mr. Stone already uses that could be of help. Either way, when we start looking at candidates, I’ll want your input on who we bring onboard.”

Clive, who had begun putting away the billboard designs, stopped what he was doing at looked up at me in surprise.

“You want my input? Really?”

“Yes, really. You’re the lead marketing coordinator. Why wouldn’t I value your input?”

“Well, I just…” he trailed off, and appeared to be searching for the right words. “When we heard that Mr. Stone was bringing someone in to take over Turning Stone, we all assumed that you would be some hotshot New York City know-it-all. Those sentiments grew stronger once we saw how he pulled out all the stops for this new office. But I must say, I’m happy to see that you’ve been proving otherwise. I think I am going to enjoy working for you.”

“I’m happy to be here,” I said earnestly.

Smiling to myself, I headed out of the planning room feeling relatively pleased with how day three at Turning Stone was shaping up to be. I could only hope that my meeting with Justin would go just as well.

I glanced at the clock. It was nearing three o’clock and I was expecting Selena at any minute. Stephen and Bryan were sitting in my office, both arguing their opinions on what I should and shouldn’t do about Selena’s offer.

“I like her tenacity, Justin. She could have just taken the company free and clear, but decided to earn it instead. I think her proposal is smart and well thought out,” Stephen argued.

“That’s why you’re the lawyer and I’m the accountant,” Bryan quipped. “You’re not looking at these numbers. Yes, she is offering fair market value, but I am looking at the long-term loss of potential revenue.”

I shook my head at Bryan.

“Bryan, I’m not concerned about the long-term loss,” I reiterated. “Turning Stone was a venture designed to help the businesses that have lease agreements with me, nothing more. It was never a get-rich plan. I think you’re over stating the loss.”

“What is she defaults on the payments? Then what?” Bryan pressed.

“She won’t. And if she does, Stephen has included a lien clause just to appease you,” I rebuked. “If the payments are not made, the company defaults back to Stone Enterprise. However, I highly doubt that it will come to that. I trust her capabilities. In fact, I think she’ll succeed in making Turning Stone a very lucrative business.”

“That’s just more reason to not sell it off,” Bryan muttered.

The phone on my desk buzzed. It was Laura.

“Mr. Stone. Miss Cole is here,” she said somewhat tersely.

I smiled to myself, imagining the possible scene outside of my office. After the way Selena had burst in here on Monday, I was fairly certain that Laura considered moving furniture to block Selena from entering without permission ever again. I had to refrain from laughing at the idea as I leaned forward to press the intercom button.

“Send her in please,” I said into the speaker.

When Selena came in, her brilliant brown eyes locked on mine. She looked determined, but wary at the same time as she moved to take a seat in between Bryan and Stephen.

“Hello. I’m Selena Cole,” she said politely and extended her hand to each of them.

While they exchanged introductions, I couldn’t help but to take in her appearance. She was wearing a navy blue suit, the jacket outlining the curve of her waistline and breasts in the most delectable way. It was the same suit she wore when she came to my office for the very first time. And when I saw the triskelion necklace that I bought for her clasped around her neck, my cock instantly sprung to life.

Yes indeed, Miss Cole. I have been away from you for far too long.

I looked at Bryan and Stephen. They were both carefully assessing her. I expected as much, but planned to just observe them for the time being. They needed a minute to get to know the woman that I nearly handed a division of my company over to.

“We were just discussing your plan to buyout Turning Stone,” Stephen said to her. “It appears that you did your research.”

“Justin put a lot on the table. I felt that it was important to know what I was getting into,” she replied evenly as she eyed me ever so subtly. I couldn't help but to think that there was a double meaning behind her words.

“Yes, and I couldn’t agree more with her idea,” I told the three of them. “It’s the best solution for all parties involved.”

“So you’re open to it?” Selena asked and her eyes lit up.

“Of course I am. I’ll admit that it wasn’t something that I considered until you presented it, but it makes perfect sense. I understand why you wouldn’t accept the company outright.”

“I’m curious, Selena” Bryan chimed in. “I was highly against the original offer, but it was extremely beneficial to you. What made you decide to not accept it?”

Bryan’s tone was sarcastic, and a stark contrast to the cordial attitude that Stephen took. But Bryan was different from Stephen, especially when it came down to money. He was testing her and it pissed me off. However, just as I was about to rip into him for it, Selena spoke. Her tone was light, but her eyes held a fierce determination.

“Look, gentlemen. Neither one of you know me,” she began and looked back and forth between them. “I understand your hesitations and suspicions when it comes to me.”

“It’s our job to protect Stone Enterprise’s legal and financial matters,” Bryan stated bluntly. “That’s what we are paid to do.”

“Hey, Bryan. Chill. Just hear her out you old scrooge,” Stephen joked.

Bryan sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and looked pointedly at Selena.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help but to think that Justin’s personal interest in you is clouding his judgment.”

“I’ve thought the same thing,” Stephen commented offhandedly.

“Enough!” I snapped. “Neither one of you should be concerning yourselves with my personal life.”

My temper simmered below the surface, just waiting to erupt. Friends of mine or not, they were both precariously close to being fired.

“It’s okay, Justin,” Selena interjected. “If I were them, I would be thinking the same.”

“This is not an attack on your personal life,” Stephen explained calmly, the voice of reason as usual. “Stone Enterprise has been very successful because of sound business decisions that were made by you, Justin. Bryan is just doing the job that you’ve asked him to do, and the same goes for me. If we weren’t questioning this, then we’d be shirking our responsibilities. Selena, Justin just spent the last hour expressing his belief in your capabilities. And while he isn’t a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, I think that I speak for both Bryan and myself when I say that we would like to hear your testimony on the matter.”

“Stephen, don’t treat this like one of your court rooms,” I warned. “Regardless of what Selena says, the decision to sell off Turning Stone lies with me and me alone.”

“Justin the Dictator,” Selena remarked.

Stephen immediately started to laugh.

“You’ve got that right!” he goaded.

I looked to Bryan and saw the corners of his mouth twitch. Selena, on the other hand, merely sat there with a smirk on her face. I shook my head, somewhat amazed by the effect that her quick wit had on people. In just three words, even if she was poking fun at me, she managed to instantly defuse the tension in the room.

When she began to speak again, she looked pointedly at me.

“I will succeed with this, Justin. I’m too stubborn to let Turning Stone fail. But it’s more than just that to me, which is why I refused to accept your original offer. There is something to be said about pride and self worth. I believe that hard work and diligence enhances an individual’s character. It gives a broader appreciation of one’s own achievements. Taking a handout isn’t my style, even if given with the best intentions. Perhaps that’s a foolish way to view it, especially considering the fact that I was offered a golden opportunity. But to me, accepting would give me no sense of accomplishment. I need to know that I succeeded all by myself.”

I smiled at her, knowing that she said exactly what Stephen and Bryan needed to hear. The way that they looked at her, it was almost as if they were seeing her for the first time. And in a way, they were.

Yes, gentlemen. This is the woman that has turned my world upside down.

“Well then,” Bryan said and smiled. He seemed more at ease, and not nearly as suspicious as he did a few moments before. “It looks like we have a contract to review now, doesn’t it?”

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