#(I’ve been doing a little sketching and shit here and there but nothing major) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lustbile · 3 years

Text

The Journal

TenxReader

Word Count: 7.3k+

Summary/Warnings: Smut with plot, semi public, a lot of biting, mentions of supernatural and just general weirdness, and small amount of blood play

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist (can be read alone or within the series, but unlike others it might just be the slightest amount confusing)

“So that’s what you’re into now,” your best friend’s voice is bored and distant, her task of wiping down the bar that stretched out in front of her taking a majority of her attention away from the babbling you’ve tried to subject her to since you entered the empty restaurant only about 20 minutes before, “weird demon sex clubs?”

—

“Ah ah, I never said they were demons,” you correct quickly, the thought of defending yourself never crossing your mind as you petulantly slap your hands against the polished wood, “I just said it was…. weird.”

“Weird is an understatement,” she scoffs quietly as she turns to dip her dirtied rag back into the bleach water and ring it out, “I mean look, I’ve always been supportive in the witchy stuff you’ve been into but this…. is a bit much.”

“I don’t see how this is any different than any other thing I’ve read into.”

“Oh you don’t see?” you finally manage to pull her attention towards you as she harshly slaps the rag back onto the wood with a stern glare pulled on her pretty features, “you’re talking about vulnerability and abandoned warehouses and public sex. That last one is definitely new.”

You fully expected this type of response, only hoping she’d be busy enough that you would dodge the motherly scolding she liked to give you when you pitched your schemes to her with your eyes wild and wide, but nevertheless, she was completely right.

It came from an old book, tattered and torn from being flipped through one too many times, that you found at your favorite antique store. The store itself was already notorious with your tight inner circle of friends as the creepy shop that was corrupting your brain, a constant taunt being that the little old woman that ran it was the actual devil and she was just waiting for the right time to jump you and eat you whole, but this did nothing to stop you from visiting at least once a week.

But the book, it was different from any other you had found. It was completely handwritten, including amazingly done sketches in a deep unfading ink, and spoke of outlandish things.

Some were easily brushed off, like a murder that happened in the 50’s that was known to stay in the mouths of the older folks, both to them and the book it was widely believed to be the doing of some long tongued and wild eyed creature, until a local sweet old man admitted on his deathbed that it was instead his one crime of passion.

He had been a young soldier that snuck into his lover’s room one night, and upon learning that she was to marry a nice lawyer the day after he was meant to deploy, his mind went blank and his hands were carving out her heart. He luckily escaped any questioning after being shipped off, and once he returned home he captured the heart of a pretty young girl and lived out a long life sitting on top of a horrid truth.

So yeah, stories of those sorts, having been solved in your lifetime, meant very little to you, but the one you were going on about now, meant the world.

The writing looked like it had been put down by a panicked chicken rather than the woman who’s name was written neatly in the front. It lived in some of the pages towards the back of the small book and spoke of a dark club. Club X.

She went on and on about stumbling across the club purely by accident, and meeting another woman with glittering eyes. Graphic details of being taken in the middle of the dance floor with a million eyes looking but not fully seeing her as she fell apart against a dancing and eager tongue made your heart thump lodged in your throat. But the more and more she visited the club, the more incoherent her words became, but towards the end the writing had become stained and obscured by a deep brown stain, before it stopped altogether.

Thankfully, the details of where the building was was completely visible regardless of being the thoughts of a mad woman, and with a lot of thinking and staring at the town map, you’ve come to believe that you knew exactly where the mysterious club stood.

Only a street down from the restaurant you sit in now.

“Listen, I know it sounds ridiculous, and it probably is, but what’s the problem with just going to check right?” you scramble to pull the delicate book from the bag that sits in the stool beside you as your friend moves closer and closer to where you sit, laying it flat to show her the page you’ve had bookmarked since you read it, “and look at the name she puts, I think it’s the man who ran it and it’s a long shot, but maybe he’s still alive, or if not maybe some family is! Right here, Asm-“

“Don’t say it again,” she’s quick to interrupt, sliding her free hand to hover above the page you’ve glued your eyes to, “I don’t wanna hear any old man names, especially that one it gives me the ick.”

“It’s just a name,” murmur to yourself, but move to put the book away regardless, “but anyways, I have something that most people who were going to the club didn’t, knowledge of what exactly I’m walking into. I can just go and look around, worst things worst its still a freaky sex club and I just go home, but I’m willing to bet this lady was just off the shits and its just an empty building with some funky vintage beer bottles that you can add to your collection.”

You feel like you’ve won an award you weren’t even trying to compete for when she finally breaks out into a soft smile. The huff that leaves her chest is endeared, and you swear your heart began to vibrate when she reached to run a gentle thumb across the swell from your cheekbone.

“Fine, do what you want, but if the bottle isn’t completely intact when you find it I don’t want it.”

“So you’re not coming with me?” your head tilts to the side in confusion as with things of this nature in the past, she’s always followed along to ensure that you didn’t do anything to stupid. You never felt like the company was fully necessary, but it was appreciated regardless.

“Baby, as much as I’ve enjoyed your info dumping you’ve done tonight, the other person that was meant to clean with me had to leave early with a stomach bug so I’m busy pulling a clean up job that’s truly a job for about five people. But you seem to really believe in this little adventure of yours,” she leaves the rag in a damp mass next to the stack of dirty glasses beside you to take your hands in her’s, her slightly wrinkled fingers are still warm and the way they lace with yours makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you, “besides, you’re as smart as a whip and I know you have me on speed dial. I trust you.”

——

You no longer love the feeling of being trusted.

When your friend had given you the heartfelt speech only a little over half an hour ago, you felt like you had been put on a nice pedestal before she handed you a cookie with a pat on the head.

Now the “cookie” had turned to rot in your belly and you were faced with your own perfectly dreamed up reality.

It was already late by the time you had walked into the restaurant your friend works at, the sun already setting and the last few customers gathering their things and paying the bills, so once you got her stamp of approval and we’re heading out the door, the only light left was a bright and full moon, and flickering street lights.

You took your time walking in the direction that your book and personal sleuthing had pointed you in, the closer and closer you got to the one warehouse in town that seemed to never be bought back from the city, the knots in your belly pulled tighter and tighter.

But regardless of the almost painful twist in your gut, you surprisingly almost missed the building in its entirety.

It was as if your entire being blocked out the thumping bass that shook the sidewalk and the blinding red light that spilled from beneath the entrance and out the fractured windows. Your brain trying to force itself from entering the building you spent so many weeks trying to locate.

But the way your heart thuds in your chest when you stand in front of the entrance is something you couldn't even pretend you didn’t feel.

Your tongue digs into the side of your jaw, and you're confused at the feeling of warm tears burning at your waterlines. It’s exactly the way the owner of the journal described it in her manic writings, weirdly exact considering the other stories that surrounded it that dated it back far before you were even born.

You want to go in, the shaking steps your legs take is evident to that, but the tense muscles of your shoulders and stomach makes you hesitate and even grumble out into the air.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a shuffling to your side, your throat tensing when you look over, and are put slightly at ease when you see two men who you assume are acting as some type of security. You almost expect them to look up and ask you for some type of ID when you’re being very weird and blatant about your presence, but they seem too preoccupied with the dim screens of their phones and the way they lean forward at different times as if they’re waiting for someone.

Your hands are shaking slightly as they scramble down to grab for your bag, desperately looking for something to occupy you to walk by them without being even more weird, and when your fingers wrap around the flaking leather that binds the book, you grab it like a lifeline.

Your fingers flip through the pages with perfect muscle memory as you trip up the few steps that lead to the door, the tabs you carefully placed on the first page mentioning the club not even necessary with the way you could find the page even in your sleep.

You subconsciously hold your breath when you walk past the two men, almost as if the book is instead something wildly illegal and you're trying to sneak past your parents, and your washed with a temporary wave of relief when you pass through the doors without even a glance from the two.

Though the relief is stolen from your bones the second your feet touch the floor of the club.

It’s as if you’ve entered a place you’ve known your whole life, and from the amazing descriptions from the woman in the past, its not a completely surprising feeling.

But another part of you feels like this is the first time you’ve seen human beings in the flesh.

You can't help but to feel like you must look like an absolute nerd as you pull the book up to your face as you start to survey the club, but thankfully the book told at least one truth, and many of the club goers are too busy grouping and grinding against one another to even acknowledge your existence.

More truths come to light as you flick your eyes between the pages and the walls.

The bar is still tucked in the same far corner as she described, the flittering red and blue lights making it feel like a beacon of calm regardless of it being surrounded by drunken forms and its intimidatingly pretty bartender.

The dj is just a stoic and unimpressed looking as the one from so many years ago as he subconsciously bobs to the beat that he creates as he messes with the nobs and switches in front of him. He’s actually so similar, you wonder if you were right and the owner did have family floating around, and maybe the dj is one of them.

You stumble further into the room as you pick out small details she wrote about so lovingly. Your legs carry you to the back of the building as you smile at the sight of the wine stain the writer claimed to have created when her lover shocked her with a playful bite to the neck.

You almost feel like the universe is gifting you everything you could have possibly asked for when you see the loose board that she said a friend of hers would always trip over, and electricity zips up your spine in excitement when you spots the large painting that still hangs over the booth she claimed as her favorite, and she meticulously sketched out next to a paragraph about what she thought the artist was feeling.

All these things though, lead to the things that make your jaw hang slightly open.

The large balcony above you is larger than you ever imagined. The hundreds of bright red carnations she loved to sketch drip from the golden bars like water, and the black velvet curtains that hang over the room it leads to look heavy enough that they suffocate someone if they fell.

She seemed so intensely in love with the place you stand in, and the woman she met there, and those emotions were more than evident from the way the recreated the energy of the club with her words and art. Which only tips you towards the part that caught your attention perhaps the most.

It was exactly where it was meant to be. Just below the balcony that hangs high on the wall, gaping wide and dark like the mouth of a hungry monster coaxing you to enter its throat. The only issue that you can see being the hanging rope that blocks you from entering, but with only shining bright clasps holding it onto hooks on the walls, you don’t think you're above sneaking past it with little guilt.

The hall was the one thing that taunted you the most about the story the woman spun in the little worn book. The empty and dark vass space being something that coaxed her as well, but unfortunately for you, and maybe her as well, the parts of her journal that began the tale of her passing the temping rope, was the exact spot that was stained with bleeding ink and a suspicious brown color.

You survey the space around you, looking for anyone that could possibly be a worker or just a stickler for the rules, but seeing as everyone in your range of vision was attached by the mouth on someone’s neck or sloppy lips, you figured you were in the clear.

You drop the book gently back into your bag before you step slowly forward. Your heart feels like a wild animal trying to break out of the cavity of your chest, and it feels like your intestines have been successfully replaced with writhing worms that are desperately trying to reach your gut. You feel heat traveling up your chest and neck, and as you get within a few feet of what feels like the end of your life, your body begins to shake.

If you had the ability, you would have screamed, and if you had the strength, you would have fought back. But right when you're about to reach the threshold of the hall, and right when you feel like your legs are about to collapse from underneath you, strong fingers clasp over your trembling mouth, and an arm wraps tightly around your waist.

You’re turned faster than you can blink, the sudden motion making your brain swirl in your skull and making you go lightheaded and dizzy. And while keeping their hand clasped tightly over your mouth, the person that cages you in slams your back into the cold wall and knocks the air from your lungs.

The eyes that meet you are cat-like and dancing wildly, the grin the man you're faced with now smiles at you wickedly, and when your hands dart up until your nails dig harshly into the skin of his forearms, his smile only widens.

“Now,” he starts, the remains of a chuckle shaking his chest and his words slightly, “what exactly are you up to?”

You wait for a moment for him to release you from his hold, and when after a minute or so he still hasn’t budged, all you can offer in response is an annoyed arched brow.

“What?” he has the audacity to ask with taunting sincerity, “you thought you were smart enough to go wandering around, so you should be smart enough to figure out a way to talk around my hand right?”

It’s with immense irritation that you realize the two possibilities you’re faced with.

From the book you know about the weird concept of soul mates or whatever they were meant to be. The woman and the mysterious dancing girl she met so many years ago, and similar stories from the friends she met during her many visits to the club who had almost identical tales that she had to recount.

So with that information you know the possibility of this grinning man being your person is high, but your person or not, he was lighting a fire in your chest regardless.

You don’t think or even weigh the negatives before you send him a hard glare, and you show very little hesitation when you push forward to sink your teeth into the first finger you can catch.

His yelp is covered by the blaring music, but you hear it loud and clear before he reaches his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose to pull you off like a rabid kitten.

“You know what I’m up to,” you huff petulantly as you lean back into the wall with your arms folding over your chest, “or at least I’d assume you’d be smart enough to use your context clues right?”

His lip curls when he glances back up to you as he pets at his now bruising finger, but even with the thin veil of irritation on his pretty features, you can tell he enjoys the sarcastic tone you’ve adopted.

“Yeah you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he bites back as he steps closer, crowding your personal space and pushing his chest tightly against yours, “you’re lucky I’m who caught you and not boss man.”

“Boss man?” you ask, trying not to show you excitement over him spilling the treasured information about the club that you want so desperately.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, and the sly wink he throws at you shocks you more than you would like to admit, but when he tilts his head back quickly you don’t hesitate to follow his line of sight to the edge of the balcony.

If it weren’t for the thin wires of light that create hatching over his eyes and mouth, you probably would have missed the masked figure that leers at you from over the railing. His hands and shoulders are covered by the masses of flowers, and the hollow black where he hides his eyes stares down at you two with a look that you assume is annoyance and possible curiosity.

The moment you two look up, the figure jerks back. Your eyes flick quickly between him and the man in front of you, and from the bratty grin he wears as he looks up, you feel as if the masked man didn’t have any intention at being caught.

You get lost slightly in staring at the man pressed against you, his teeth that look sharper in the red lighting and his eyes twinkle in mischief, and even with the obnoxious start to your interaction, you’d be lying to say you don’t find him beautiful.

It takes you a second to regain your senses, tearing your eyes away from the fascinating side profile of the man, but when you glance back up to the balcony, the mask man has retreated back.

“He doesn’t like much when we take people back there before they’re ready,” he attempts at an explanation as he turns back to you, and seems unfazed when he misses the mark and just confuses you further, “he let the two goons outside have a little exception, but that's because they don’t know how to go easy y‘know.”

“No,” you shake your head at him with a quiet scoff, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know more than you think,” his voice drops as he speaks now, and as he speaks he reaches out his hand to hold himself propped against the wall next to your head while his other hand moves to run gently up the side of your neck, “I mean, you know who I am at least right?”

“I have an idea,” you admit with a huff, but you also admit to yourself that this probably means you won't be getting into the hall. You do mentally jot that down as a loss, but decide to take the man pressed against you as a win and you reach to grab at his shirt in retaliation, “but you could at least give me a name to work with.”

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to be one for such formalities,” his head tilts in amusement at his own words, and the action nudges the tip of his nose into yours and makes your heart flutter up into your throat, “but you might as well know the name of the man you’ll be destined to fall in love with.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to start to ache, and he quietly laughs and moves to press his nose into the soft flesh of your cheek as he feeds off your annoyance.

“Ten,” he answers quietly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he moves to whisper the syllable in your ear, and you never thought that with just one word he’d have a shiver rushing up your spine.

You respond quietly with your name, but the word comes out strained and rushed when he begins to nibble on the lobe of your ear and pushes his knee harshly between your thighs.

Both your hands now hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt, and when his lips move to trail against the side of your neck that isn't enveloped by his hand, you tug roughly at the fabric and your back arches slightly away from the wall.

His tongue is hot when he lays it flat on the center of your throat, and when he swipes it up until it flicks against the end of your chin, you can't help but cringe slightly at the feeling regardless of the way it makes heat pool in between your thighs.

The wicked grin on his face never falters, it only grows wider and more hungry when your eyes meet again, and with his staring so deep that you fear he may be collecting every ounce of your soul, you two have a silent agreement on the unnatural waves of electricity that connect you.

When his lips finally land on yours, it's the roughest and clumsiest kiss you’ve experienced. Both of you fight each other with hungry and eager tongues and the way your teeth gently knock together has your skull rattling in a way that, if you weren’t so hell bent of devouring each other whole, you’d probably have to take a breather.

Your hands reluctantly release the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, and in a desperate attempt to stay occupied, they shoot up the tangle tightly into his hair. You admit, you probably tug harsher on the strands than you probably should, but the groans he pours into your mouth, and the way his hips rock roughly into yours, has you tugging again and again.

He presses you further and further into the wall, and without thinking your hips begin to kick and tilt down until you're grinding harshly and sloppily against his tense thigh.

You let out a quiet whine that's muffled and garbled by his moving at the feeling of him pressing his thumb gently into the dip beneath your jaw, and pressing into your jugular. The sound is followed almost immediately by a small yelp when he latches his teeth to your bottom lip and gives you a stinging bite.

You’re frustrated almost immediately with the lack of friction you can feel from the layers of clothing between you, and now the slight shooting pain from the tensing skin between his teeth, you can feel the impatience in your belly crawling up and invading your chest and throat.

He’s quick to pull away when you retaliate with your own nipping bite to his top lip, your teeth still sinking down when he does and making his sting probably just as much as yours. And when he eyes you as his eyelids droop down into an accusatory squint, you assume he’s not used to getting a taste of his own medicine.

He mutters something to himself about your feistiness, and a sly comment about how he shouldn’t be surprised as he was expecting to get a handful, but he gives you no time to make a snide comment or even question about any of the words, before his fingers are closing firmly but loosely around your neck.

He keeps you rooted in the spot that you stand, the only change in your posture he allows is pulling you slightly away from the wall, just wide enough for him to slink behind you and tug you roughly back into his chest.

“You like poking around into business that isn’t yours?” he asks rhetorically as his free hand reaches around your shoulder to push past the neckline of your shirt, and right as he pressed down the center of your chest and his fingers brush the bottom of your rib cage, his fingers curl and he starts to drag his blunt nails up your sternum as he continues, “need to know and see every single little thing right? So… what’s the harm of being on the other side of it for once?”

“What are you on about?” you as sharply as you try to turn your face towards him the best you can, but his hand tilts under the bottom of your chin until your head is forced to lean on his shoulder and he’s nothing but thrilled at the way it makes you struggle.

“To be seen, or not?” he presses his lips back against the shell of your ear, and the way he whispers roughly makes you shiver again as your thighs press tightly together, “you know what I mean, and you know the answer I want, but its all up to you in the end.”

The electric and slightly humiliating buzz of being seen in a mass of bodies committing the same sins as you was something the woman in the book went on about frequently. She mentioned that there were a few times where she and her lover snuck off to get alone time of course, but the almost blinding pleasure that came from being worshiped by not only one person, but the eyes of an entire room, was addictive. And you wanted just a taste.

You grumble in response, the idea of admitting to the already confident man that you did indeed wanted the same amount of attention as he did made your chest burn even more than it already was, and you’d rather take your chance with his terrifying looking boss than to give him the satisfaction of your verbal confession.

He seems unaffected by your nonverbal confirmation, the way you press into him as his hand wraps around your waist again and creeps down to the button of your shorts, and your own hand grabbing onto the sleeve of his rolled up long sleeve shirt to guide him to undo the clasp or just dip below the waistband, is enough of an answer for him to know.

He chooses to pop the button, and once he has the zipper pulled down enough that he can work with, he begins to shove the worn denim down your hips along with your underwear until they are wrapped around your knees and he can push his fingers roughly between your thighs.

You try to clear the fog that he creates in your mind from his teasing fingers long enough to reach your free hand back to give the same treatment to the dark jeans that wrap tightly around his hips and thighs in a way that had you mentally drooling from the moment you got to get a full look at him, after he ambushed you of course.

You’re not sure how he undid your shorts so quickly without being able to see, but as you fumble and scratch your nails against the sensitive skin of his hip, you give yourself the benefit of the doubt seeing as your trying to work while his middle and ring fingers tease over your entrance and the heel of his hand presses clumsily into your neglected clit.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t give you any benefit of the doubt. He at least has the decency to press his lips across your cheekbone and temple to muffle his quiet laughs, but to make your task even more difficult, his fingers shallowly curl up into you just enough to make you twist and curl.

Once the button of his jeans finally releases, you instinctively let out a huff and sink your shoulders back into his chest as you reach past the fabric to wrap your hand around his stiff length and pull it from the confines until you can press it against his lower belly. And you get just one tally on your side of the boards you’ve created in your mind when his amused laughs devolves into pleased grunts and tilting hips.

“Please,” you start quietly, trying to rock more against the parts of his hand that press against you while running your palm up and down the length of him and smearing him with his own pre come, “I can tell you’re just as impatient as me.”

He swears in your ear, using his hold on you with both hands to shift your hips up and pull you closer before he clears his throat to speak, “well could you imagine, looks like we are a match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you retaliate, digging the heel of your own palm into the skin just below the tip of him to egg him on even further, “but either way, that's the point isn't it?”

“I should have expected you to be just a little bit of a smart ass,” he mutters a half hearted complaint, but he only contradicts his own words when he pushes your hips away enough for you to guide him between your thighs and to glide against the arousal that spilled from your body and his hands spread messy along any available inch of skin.

He thrusts smoothly against your back a few times, bringing his arm down to guide him towards your entrance painfully slow, but when you let out a gravely moan of his name, he cant deny himself for any longer, and he’s sinking into you until your eyes start to gently flutter.

Once he’s seated inside you, his hand tenses slightly tighter around your neck, and when you both start pushing towards each other to meet in the middle of your thrusts, his other hand takes the opportunity to map any inch of you he can reach.

He gropes almost painfully at your chest, traveling over your stomach and up your shirt to dig his fingers into your skin until you swear he’s tattooed his finger prints onto you, all while nipping and lapping at the skin of your jaw and neck.

No one immediately in front of you is watching, they’re all in their own worlds of flesh and saliva, but you can still feel eyes of someone on you. His first and foremost as they burn holes into the side of your skull and glance to watch where you push back against him desperately, but there’s another feeling you get of being seen and studied thats so intense that you’re a little shocked when you chance a glance up and see that whoever the masked person was from earlier wasn’t there at all.

So no, you have no idea who, or what is watching you right now, but you can feel the unusual heat it stirs in you as your body flutters around him as he fucks you sloppily. You feel a deeper relation to the woman that owned the book that still rests in the bag that feel unceremoniously from your shoulder when he first put his hands on you, and you hope that maybe you’ll eventually slip into the life of bliss that she meticulously wrote about and possibly learn what happened that demolished the stories that lived in the back of the journal.

You could feel the pleasure crawling up your spine like a monster out creature, your panting breaths tipping the man that works you over off to this even though you’re sure he was already aware before you were, and you think your legs are back to the edge of collapsing when his creeping fingers dance along the expanse of your stomach to find their place back between your thighs.

Your back stiffens at the first touch of his rolling finger on your clit, and your head tilts even farther back onto his shoulder than he already had it. He doesn’t seem interested in coaxing you to your finish slowly, at a pace that would have mercy on your melting mind and shaking form, but he instead abuses your clit until your whimpering out and stumbling and stepping slightly on his toes.

You feel like you’re waiting out the suspense of a horror film that’s score is too obvious to the incoming jump scare. You tilt your neck in a way that seems normal to him, but in reality your trying to feel the many rings that decorate his fingers with the delicate skin of your throat to test if any of them could possibly be sharp enough to cut you and draw blood. You know what blood means to him, and you know it's something he’ll have to do soon if he truly can feel how close you are to the edge.

You feel like you’re floundering a bit, confused from the possible deviation from the story you’ve committed to memory. Was there any chance in this world that this wasn’t your person?

You push this thought away as soon as your panicked mind can construct it though, because there’s no way the spell that it feels has been placed on you would be there if that was the truth, and your body is heated almost like a furnace, but you suddenly love the idea of being burned by him.

You pull in a gasping breath of air that pierces through the music and grunting that rattles in your ears, the taste of your orgasms dancing on the back of your tongue and your back arching so harshly you fear that one of your muscles might seize up and cramp. And right when you feel his hips start to stutter in tandem with yours, and when you’re only seconds from blabbering out mixed syllables that you could only hope would come out as a coherent question, you feel it.

His teeth latch onto you again, his canines not sharp enough to make a clean cut as they dig into the muscle of your shoulder, but his determination is strong enough.

It burns painfully, and makes hot tears well up in your eyes, but almost embarrassingly, is the exact thing that pushes you scrambling over the edge.

You feel like it hurts to breathe, your lungs so focused on letting out puffs of air and broken moans that they can't seem to remember how to bring oxygen in, and your eyes roll for a completely new reason for the man and much more painfully.

It’s when you feel him start to suck the rushing blood from your newly christened wound that you also feel the rumble of his groans against your skin and feel him start to come inside of you. His fist tightens again around your neck as he pushes aftershocks through your nerves with his own orgasm, and with flying hands you grab at both of his wrists, not to ask in any way for him to ease up, but from a sudden wash and need to hold onto him possibly until you die.

He lets you collapse to the floor once he pulls out, but he follows your sinking form and sits alongside you and partially underneath you as you both try to catch your breath.

The club scene in front of you is now blurs of flashing lights and abstract writhing forms, and if it wasn’t for the zaps of energy you feel from every brush of his finger tips, your brain would probably be too muddled to register him fixing both your clothes and his.

You become just slightly more aware when he shifts your body against him enough to grab at the strap of your bag with the heel of his shoe, and you try to sit up faster than necessary and give yourself a small head rush when he pulls it to himself and flips it open.

“You seemed a little weirdly unaffected by the whole,” he flails his hands in front of you for a second as he speaks, and your lagging mind takes a second to catch up with his attempts at implication, “not the fucking part clearly,” he teases, “but the leading up to it. The meeting part and all.”

“I know what this place is,” you admit, and if your legs had gained just a bit more strength you probably would have stood and requested a glass of water just from how gravely your voice had become, “I knew I was probably going to run into you.”

“But you weren’t looking for me,” he tries, and fails, at hiding the slight edge of offense his voice shows, “if you knew I was here why didn’t you look for me?”

“I didn’t worry about it,” you say, warming up a bit again in the fear that it may have come off slightly rude, “or, like, I mean I knew you’d be able to find me easier than I could find you. I was more interested in finding answers.”

“Answers to what? You said you knew this place, or at least what it is?”

“Well I only know the basics,” you shift in his hold, knocking his hands away as they sift through your bag, and grabbing blindly until you can pull out the book, “I found this journal and it-“

“A journal?” he asks in a volume that could have been obnoxiously loud if it weren’t for the thumping bass that shook the floor beneath you, and pulls the small book from your hands.

“It was written by a woman who came here a long time ago,” you explain, deciding to not take offense to his rough and grabbing hands, “I found it and tracked the club down, I needed to see if it was real.”

“Oh it's real alright,” he laughs as he starts to flip through the pages, stopping for a moment to smile at a simple sketch she had done of a cat that she said lived in the back alley, “hey wait I think I know this name, and these people.”

“What are you on about?” you ask with a scoff as you tug the book from his grubby fingers, “you can’t possibly know these people, this was written in like the fifties. Stop pulling my leg.”

“Oh I see,” he smacks your thigh playfully as he leans over your shoulder to glance at the first page that mentioned anything about the date, the ink clear enough to read 1953 in the swirling handwriting, “you think you know everything.”

“I do know everything, fuck you,” you glare playfully at him over your shoulder, “or I would know, if you’d let me go into that weirdo hall.”

“No hall, for now at least,” he sighs, the gears in his head turning as he thinks of the next thing to say, “but you know, time doesn’t exist the same way here, the woman who wrote this probably didn’t know that at the time, so I’m not surprised you don’t either.”

“What do you mean time doesn’t exist?” you look at him as if he’s grown a second head, but do you really have the nerve to question him like that? Considering that entire concept of the club you are very aware of its existence now, a time situation shouldn’t be the most shocking should it?

“Well, it's hard to explai-“

“Then don’t explain it,” you almost jump fully out of his lap at the deep voice that rattles above you, and both him and you look up at the figure that looms over you now.

The man is tall, his black hoodie looking weird in contrast to the clothes of the other club goers, and with a squinting observation and a familiar and annoyed sigh from the man seated behind you, you realize you’re being stared down by the mysterious entity that is the DJ, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket in annoyance.

“Huh?” Ten lets out more in the form of a noise than a word, as his arms wind tightly around your form.

“I said don’t explain shit,” the man begins to tap his foot in irritation as he speaks, and you wonder if he’s aware that he’s in rhythm with the song that surrounds you, “you need to chill out with the loose tongue, its bad enough we have the big mouths outside.”

“I wasn’t gonna go that far,” Ten sounds reminiscent of a scolded toddler, and considering the man is hindering you from getting information that you wanted so badly, you can feel yourself mirroring the pout he wears, “I know what I’m doing alright man? Why are you over here anyways, shouldn’t you be at your little booth minding your business.”

“No one minds their business over at that booth, and you should know that better than anyone pervert,” the words are sharp, but the curl to his lips and the underlying playfulness to his tone tells you the likeliness of them being friends is high, “anyways, I know we don’t follow any regulations or anything here, but I’m still gonna take a fuckin’ break or two.”

“Well breaks over,” Ten reaches out a hand to playfully swat the man away, “I didn’t wait this long for you to just interrupt my bonding time with my person alright?”

“Alright, alright,” he finally starts to shuffle away, throwing one last comment about Ten being bitter his person showed up first over his shoulder with a grin.

“What a loser,” Ten starts, looking at you playfully and rolling his eyes, “too bad he’s like my best friend or whatever.”

“You seem to have a lot of fun around here don’t you?” you take a shot at voicing your observations, your heart fluttering in a completely new way at the warm smile he shoots you.

“Just wait a see, my love. Just wait and see.”

#nct smut #ten smut #chittaphon smut #nct imagine #nct series #nct fic #ten imagines #ten oneshot #nct oneshot #kpop smut #wayv smut #wayv imagine #wayv oneshot

209 notes · View notes

monsterenergysimp · 4 years

Text

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats super cool actually

i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

[link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

1K notes · View notes

alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

I’ll never leave again

Yuta x reader // SMUT, ANGST, fluff? Summary: A Japanese transferee added color to your already colorful and perfect life and you both find true love as you help him with his battle against drugs. Word Count: 7k Warnings: MAJOR DRUG USES, wearing, explicit mature themes, mentions of alcohol, blood, hospital, rehab, unprotected sex, mentions of other idols Note: IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE WHEN IT COMES TO DRUGS, PLEASE CLICK AWAY. THANK YOU. this fic is 100% came from my imagination, unlike my other works that are inspired from true events and personal experiences, this fic is 100% made up.

Spaced out and really not in the mood to socialise, you were busy thinking how you’re going to break things off with your boyfriend Jaehyun. The perfect captain of the cheerleading squad and the handsome captain of the basketball team, together and being high school sweethearts is kind of getting old to you. And by getting old you mean you don’t love Jaehyun anymore. Not that he cheated on you or he treated you badly, no Jaehyun’s a great guy. It’s just that maybe he is not what your heart wants anymore.

It’s hard to explain something you cant even understand. You can’t actually pin point when did you start forcing yourself to see Jaehyun and why is this happening. “I can’t just stage a cheating scenario, that’s not me. I think Jaehyun deserves the truth” thats your response when Yeeun suggests to stage a cheating act where Jaehyun will see some random dude in your bed. “He will not buy it. Because he knew I can’t cheat” you added making Yeeun more frustrated.

To finish all your problems regarding breaking up with Jaehyun, you decided to just tell him the truth. He believed everything you said. “I felt it. Your kisses became different” Jaehyun said after you explained your part, you were glad that the breakup was mutual.

Now that you’re on your senior year, you wanted to focus on studying and trying new things. You gave up cheerleading and entrusting the squad to Yeeun. Giving up cheerleading was not a problem even though literally all of your friends are part of the squad, but they understand you. You’re just following your heart. Cheerleading is soon replaced by art, your second passion next to dancing and you couldn’t be more happier.

Everything was going smooth, having good grades, self love, and more art. Although, people in school still see you as this popular cheerleader who used to be with the school star player, you’re having a hard time making new friends. Until you met Nakamoto Yuta. A Japanese transferee who’s always quiet, private and scary because he had a lot of piercings. Not to you of course, you never see him that way. You met at the football field while you were having a quick sketch of the sunset with all your coloring materials just after a long day at school. “You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend” he said peaking from the back bleacher, you turned around to check who it is.

“I’m Yuta by the way, we have the same art class” he’s a little shy and awkward, but nice enough to introduce himself first. You knew you go to the same art class, actually he is quite an artist. He can be top of the class if only he submits his works.

“Hi, I’m y/n” you smiled at him offering a hand shake but you realised your hand is dirty because of the oil pastel. “We can fist bump instead” you suggest and he let out a small laugh. He looks beautiful under the perfect orange light from the sunset, his skin is unbelievably white and flawless, he looks unreal and you can’t stop staring.

“So...” he snapped out of you, “it’s nice to me you y/n. I hope you take my advice” you nod and waved goodbye as he leaves you alone with your drawing session. Your heart is beating so fast and you don’t know why but one things for sure, you find Yuta attractive. Really attractive.

The next day, you made sure to buy soft pastels and it did made your life easier. You wanted to thanked him but he didn’t come to school for two days. It really is useful to you, it made you work faster and easier, you couldn’t stop drawing and filling your sketchbook with colors.

After three days, he made his appearance again in school and he looked like shit. Maybe he got sick? That’s why he haven’t been showing up. Whatever the reason is, it made you shy to talk to him and tell him all about the things you already create with colors that he recommended. But destiny was being a little too friendly, he caught you again sketching your heart out at the bleachers.

“You work fast” he came out of nowhere again.

“Yes! Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you seem not well I couldn’t bother you” he smiled at you like there’s nothing wrong, “If you want, I could show you some of mine, a- at home if you want” you noticed he’s being friendly and who are you to refuse.

Yuta brought you to his house, just five streets from your home. Turns out Yuta is rich... and alone, he lives with his Japanese butler, Ruka. “My family is in Japan if you’re wondering” he tells more information about him while you two walk upstairs to his room. The house is simple but it was too spacious, it feels lonely and cold but you kept that thought to yourself. Good thing Yuta’s room is full of colors, different kind of masterpiece are put up on his wall, lots and lots of drawing and coloring materials neatly stacked on his working table, and a beautiful view of the town from his window.

“Uhm, if you need something from my stuff I’ll gladly give it to you” still amazed by what you’re seeing right now, all you want to do is look at all of his works. “Wow - that’s uhm, too much but I’m happy you can introduce me to a lot of art materials” you can’t hide your excitement, everything in his desks looks new to your eyes and you can’t help but ask questions about different materials. ‘What’s this for?’ ‘How do you use this?’

Not to mention you’ve been praising his works for almost half an hour already. He’s happy that you find him as a great artist and that you’re willing to be friends with him, seeing you in his room gives him hope. Ruka knocked at Yuta’s door and invited you to have dinner with them, you didn’t notice it’s already dark and you definitely need to go home already. But you didn’t want to leave Yuta yet, “Sure. I’d love to”

Even the smell of their freshly cooked dinner is new to you, since their both Japanese they only eat Japanese food everyday. “I hope you like Japanese food, I asked him to order takeout but Ruka insists. Told me you should try his cooking” he whispers beside you while Ruka is busy preparing the table. “It’s fine, I don’t get to eat Japanese food always so I don’t mind” you smiled to Yuta, taking away his worries.

The food was delicious, and the dinner table was full of laughter and stories from Ruka. They were both exchanging stories, telling you too much information you don’t need to know, but they tell you anyway. You found out that Yuta plays soccer and he’s a really good player, he’s an impulsive buyer when it comes to his art materials and your favorite information for the night, Yuta has seventeen piercings. The three of you laughed and laughed the whole dinner time while enjoying the delicious Udon and a lot of deep fried seafood.

Later that night Yuta walked you home and endlessly thanked you for spending time with him. “Everything that happened today is so random, but I could get used to this” you said, secretly hoping you could spend some more time with him. “This is my house. I would normally invite you to come in, but its pretty late - which reminds me” your voice and your hands were shaking, pretty sure you’re blushing too. “We have this thing every Friday. Me and my family- uhh, just meet me here at 7?” How brave of you to ask.

If Yuta could only shout and scream from happiness he would, instead he just gave you a nod and a sweet smile before he waved goodbye to you. “See you tomorrow” he shouts before you get inside.

There’s no way of hiding it, you have a crush on Yuta. And you cant ruin this wonderful friendship by being obvious, you told yourself. The next day you made an effort to look cute, “so much for not being obvious” you talk to yourself through the mirror. As you get on with your day, you can’t stop thinking how Yuta is a complete charmer and a really nice guy. Gentleman enough to walk you home in the middle of the night and smiling so sweetly before he leaves.

Yuta on the other hand, has been asking about you to his friends. It’s either they tell him that you’re smart, pretty and popular or they tell him that you are the former captain of the squad. No one told him the things that he single handedly found out about you. In Yuta’s eyes you’re this simple girl that has her life all planned out already. He understood the whole popularity thing because whats not to love about you?

Hiding his excitement, he was pretty early but you told him it’s perfectly fine. Your family adored Yuta, they were all talking nonstop the whole night asking questions about Japan. Which made you worry actually, what if Yuta was hurting and he misses his family or miss Japan in general. Yuta seemed to enjoy everyone’s company, at least that’s what you think and you could only hope that he’s not faking it.

“Sorry, this is the least I can do. The dinner last night was so great, I wanted to invite you over” you brought him to your room so you could have some privacy. Which is not normal. The last guy you brought to your room was Jaehyun, and that happened two years ago.

He was busy looking around your room with an amused smile, looking at the pictures taken from crazy parties, cheerleading competitions, and basically every important event of your life. Yuta let out a small laugh when he saw your cheerleading uniform framed and hanged on your wall.

“What’s so funny about it?” you giggle while you both look at the framed uniform.

“I’ve never seen something like this before, I guess I’m amazed” to be honest he really is amazed that your uniform became something like a trophy that you display around your room. “I bet you look good wearing it” he was smiling while looking at you when he said that. Suddenly the room became hot.

“You should smile more often, your smile is nice” to divert the attention, of course you praised him again.

“If you think my smile is beautiful, you should’ve seen yours” there’s no getting away with that so you just accepted it.

On the following days, you’ve been spending more time with Yuta talking, drawing and getting to know each other more. And the more you spend time with him, your feelings grow and grow. In a matter of weeks, you’re sure you’ve completely fallen in love with him.

He became your friend, in fact your only friend since you left cheerleading. Every friend of yours is either a cheerleader or jock, given that they’re all athletes, they don’t have time for you anymore. That’s why you think Yuta is a life saver.

Not long ago, you discovered about Yuta’s drug addiction. Weed, Meth, Heroin, all kinds. Maybe that’s why sometimes he’s so spaced out and he miss school a lot. “Yuta’s parents sent him here because of his drug addiction, only he can help himself” Ruka explained to you over coffee while Yuta is out doing whatever he’s doing. Even though he has problems, you still stick with him. He’s still a nice guy who loves his art, the same nice guy your family adored. With or without drugs.

One night, you were playing Jenga with him on his bedroom floor with a few bottle of beers and snacks on the side. “I’m going to win, I’m good at this” he totally loves teasing you whenever you two get competitive with each other. “You wish. Okay my turn” you said after drinking your beer in one down, but the Jenga tower fell off and Yuta laughed so hard he has tears on his eyes. He saw your face completely pissed off as you open another beer and building the tower again for another game.

“Who’s Jaehyun?” you were surprised at his question, something a student from your school wouldn’t dare ask because the whole school knows him.

“Oh right, you’re a transferee” he sat up and sat closer to you, legs crossed and both arms are supporting him on the floor “Uhm. He’s my ex. We’ve been together for two years? I think. And then I broke with him, over the summer because I don’t love him anymore - the breakup was mutual, if you’re wondering” He nods, and ready to ask you another question.

“Do you like someone now?” he reached for your hand which made you stop building the tower and intertwined it with his. You wonder why he’s suddenly so bold and confident. You nod, completely speechless.

“Is it me?” Yuta bravely asks, and you nod without hesitation.

He reached for your lips and kissed you gently, cupping your face as his thumb swipes on your cheeks admiring your beauty. Time stopped the moment you touch lips and you feel the happiness in your stomach balls up, ready to explode.

“This is probably wrong”

And suddenly that happiness you felt was replaced by confusion. He pull away from your touch leaving you so confused and still in shock. “What’s so wrong about this?” you asked him while getting him to look you in the eyes, tugging his arm so he wont’s get too far.

“I’m a drug addict y/n. You can’t be with someone like me. Cliché as it sounds but, I’m scared to ruin your life. You’re this perfect person who I happen to meet at football field and you’re just nice enough to welcome me in your life”

He looks frustrated and confused as you are but you knew damn well that meeting him is something you don’t regret. “You don’t get to push me away just because you decided to be honest with your feelings and somehow decided to be a coward afterwards” it wasn’t easy to stay calm but you tried so hard, your grip on his hand was becoming tighter and he noticed it. “I like you! And you make me happy. You’re the one who put color in my life, well literally and figuratively. But my point is, don’t throw us away” you decided to be brave and kissed him again. This time, hungrier and full of need. You sat on his lap and pushed him down slowly all the way to the floor. Hands all over each other, switching positions and rolling on the floor without stopping the kiss.

It was not a surprise for everyone when you went public, they already foresee what’s going on between you two. Your family still adored Yuta just like how they adored him from the first time they met him. The whole popularity problem in school completely changed in a good way because of Yuta. More people from school are talking to you now, they’re not scared or shy to be friends with you anymore because Yuta somehow changed everyone’s perspective. With Yuta you’re this normal person who’s happy to be with his boyfriend.

Happy days are nothing but pure laughter and great memories with Yuta. Movie night with Yuta and Ruka with a bunch of Japanese treats on the side is your new Friday night schedule. And inviting Yuta and Ruka for family dinner during special occasions has been a thing that made Yuta happy. He told you he’s a sucker for spending time with family but his family is in Japan and he can’t go home until he’s clean. That was the night you decided that you will never leave Yuta’s side.

Yuta is this bright color that made your life even more colorful. He is this man, full of surprises and definitely no dull moment. You learned how to take care of him in your own ways without making him feel sorry for himself. Vulnerable, important and ordinary, that’s what he made you feel. And by ordinary, you mean no social pressure from the people around you. Just two normal people who fell in love in a normal way. Sometimes, situations can be a handful but it was never a problem for the both of you. Yes he has drug issues but for you, Yuta deserves to be loved. And no one can stop you from loving him.

Your love for each other grew and grew until you reach being intimate with each other.

It was raining hard and the wind was strong, you decided to stay over at Yuta’s house. Already washed up and fresh, you wait for your boyfriend in his bed as he turned off the lights in his room and replaced it with scented candles.

“You look comfortable there” he giggle as he crawls in bed and sat beside you leaning on his headboard. It’s chilly and cold in Yuta’s room, you cant help but be closer to him. Closer as possible.

“You like that?” You hum and nod with eyes closed to answer him. Surprisingly, he kissed you and your eyes opened only to see Yuta’s handsome face close to yours. The kiss was slow and you were both taking time savouring this quiet memory. It went on like that for some time, until the kiss became wet and needy. He hungrily kissed you bitting and licking your lips. Hands creeping just under your shirt, all the way to your clothed boobs and skilfully unclasps your bra. Gently kneading your right boob and doing a circular motion on your nipple.

“We’ve never gone this far” you said as you catch your breath, and went back to kissing him a little bit slowly this time.

“Do you think its time?” He managed to ask you in between those soft kisses, giving you sweet pecks. You nod excitedly. “Sit between my legs” you followed what he told you, completely clueless on what he’s going to do next.

“Spread your legs wide” it suddenly became hotter as you spread your legs nervously. Your head is resting on his shoulder, back against his chest, heart beating so fast as you wait for his next move. “Yuta, can you kiss me?” your voice cracked but he just smiled, and shook his head. “Not until you remove your shorts and panties” and so you did. Hurriedly removing your thin shorts and laced panties, throwing them on the floor.

The moment his finger had contact with your wet slit you gasp and grabbed his shoulder gripping it tightly as you moan. You feel like this is new to you but it isn’t, of course you’re not a virgin anymore and Jaehyun did a fair share on that. “Yuta- Ah! Baby I’m almost there” with heavy breaths and sharp gasps, you warn him and at the same time stopping yourself from cumming too early.

“Wider” he said so calmly, you followed spreading your legs wider. Fingers drilling a little harder than before and you finally let go. Shivering and catching your breath, eyelids already heavy. He licks your parted mouth as you enjoy your high, filthy but fucking hot. His breath smells like mint.

“You seem so calm the whole time you were finger fucking me” with all the energy left in your body, you went back to laying on his side.

“Yeah well my cock isn’t” he kissed you on the forehead and tells you, “i love you, you sound beautiful the whole time. I was busy listening to you”

You have something on your mind right now that you’re somehow scared to ask because he might refuse, “I have a question” you sat up and sat on his lap. Your legs and pussy are still exposed, and you’re making Yuta’s cock even more hard. “Why did you not ever asked me to have sex with you?”

“Well will you have sex with me baby?” Just like that, straightforward and calm like the Yuta you know. You were both giggling like little kids for some time while waiting for your answer. It’s not that you don’t want to but you were just shy to say your answer out loud.

“You’re shy, aren’t you?” of course he knew you’re being shy. He’s your boyfriend who happens to know everything about you. “Well, I’m horny” he sat up to reach your lips, kissing you gently but enough to prove that he is horny. Slowly his kisses went to your neck, making you moan softly. But you pull away not telling him anything. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking right. Please don’t be mad-“

To his surprise, you removed your shirt and your unclasped bra. Now you’re fully naked on top of your boyfriend, “It’s not fair that I’m the only ones naked here, baby” you grab the end of his shirt and helped him to removed it. “You scared me” he managed to tell you in between hungry kisses, “you’re so in trouble” he added and pushed you on the mattress.

Laughing like a little girl, while Yuta is busy kissing your naked body beneath him. Your head is dangling on the edge of the bed seeing his room upside down. His cock is poking your thigh the moment he’s on top of you naked, and you’re positive that it made you nervous. “Baby, I think your cock wont fit me” your boyfriend was amused by what you just said, “It will” is the only response he said before licking your nipples and sucking them gently. He grabbed your right leg putting it on his shoulder and kneeled in between your legs, lining his cock in your entrance.

Slowly he pushed his cock inside you making you bite your hand and close your eyes to stop yourself from moaning too loud. “See? it fits” Yuta is doing the opposite, he’s groaning with every thrust he give you letting out sounds you didn’t know he can make. Whimpering like a little boy beside your neck, you can hear him clearly. As his pace goes faster you were losing your mind at how good he fucks you for the first time.

“Don’t fucking stop” with heavy breath and gasp, you reached for his neck and encircled your arms around him. Legs spreading wider for him, moans becoming a little bit louder. The bed is shaking you’re sure Ruka can hear you both.

“Y/n, if you don’t stop moaning like that- I swear” his thrust became quicker and sharper leaving you speechless. Your pussy clenched the whole time trying to fight the sensation and trying so hard not to be on edge yet. But it’s a battle you can’t win, Yuta is so good at making you let go. You didn’t say that you were cumming but he can tell because your legs were already shaking and you were grabbing everything you can on bed and gripping it a little too hard. He pulls out and pumped his cock in front of you making his cum land perfectly on your boobs. Just the sight of his cum on your beautiful body, makes him hard again.

You grabbed him with both hands through the neck, and pull him on your chest kissing him a little too harsh. Filthy as it looks but you don’t care. You spread your legs again and put a hand in between the two of you and grabbed his hard cock. Pushing it inside you again, he let you do what you want. In a matter of seconds, he’s inside you again.

“I was disappointed, you didn’t cum inside me” you pout and he thrust again without a single word making your head roll back again, smiling like a fool because you got want you want. Yuta fucked you again, but this time rougher and he get to cum inside you.

“Sorry if I didn’t cum inside you earlier” he kissed your forehead while you calm down from your orgasm. You still can’t talk and you’re still catching your breath, all you can do is smile as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.

And that was the start of having sex with Yuta with every chance you get. Making out in your room that leads to sex before doing homework. Watching the sunset through his window still naked and all over each other. Sex was different with Yuta, it was damn wild and filthy but full of love. Something you never felt before.

Whenever you’re busy working on something in the art room and Yuta needed to fetch you there, you make out with him for some time because he missed you already. Even though anyone can just enter and catch you two, he never cared.

If you’re not allowed to go out on a Friday night, he will sneak up to your room through your open window while you were sleeping and kiss you quietly until you wake up. You love having quiet sex with Yuta in your room because its funny how you two try to stop moaning too loud. On top of that, he needed to stop himself from fucking you too hard and remind him to go slow from time to time.

Your fear of giving him a blowjob because you’re not that confident with it completely changed when one day you were just so hungry for his cock and you went down on your knees and gave him a blowjob for the first time. That’s during lunch and you brought him to the locker room where you and Jaehyun used to make out before practice. To your surprise Yuta came three times in your mouth, for some reason he loved it. From there on he always ask you for a blowjob and you always gladly give him what he wants.

If there are days with him that are nothing but pure happiness, of course there are days that are almost impossible to bare. All you can do is be strong and keep your patience long, remind yourself that you love Yuta no matter what happens. You really don’t know where it all started, or what triggered him to go back on drugs but you noticed he’s been busy and he’s not telling you the whole truth whenever you ask him ‘what’s up?’

After spending six beautiful months together, suddenly Yuta is gone again for days. He’s been missing a lot again and that can only mean he’s out somewhere taking drugs or he’s taking drugs and he’s in trouble. When you came to his house, Ruka was stopping you from entering the house but you insist.

“What is it Ruka?” you know he’s hiding something from you and Yuta is inside. So you shout from the outside, forcing Yuta to come out. He did. Limping and face all beat up. You’re not mad or disappointed, you were simply worried about him. “He got home this morning, and he’s still high from drugs. I don’t think this is a great time y/n.”

You look at each other’s eyes from a far, both hurt but yours is not physical. Broken heart, that’s what pains you. It’s hard to step away from his house, looking in his eyes full of hurt. Deep down you know he wanted to hug your kiss but he can’t because he can’t fucking move and he’s too humiliated.

What you saw today was too much and you needed a breather. It’s good that its Friday, you can be with your friends and somehow divert your mind. “People can get beaten up with a lot of reasons specially when drugs is involved” Johnny says while drinking his beer and playing beer pong with the others. “Don’t think about it too much, he’s going to be okay” Yeeun shouts from another side of the table. All of your friends were supportive with the relationship you have with Yuta even though they know about his drug problems. You spent days being with your friends while Yuta is recovering and there’s not a day where you don’t check up on him.

A week passed already and theres still no sign of Yuta. You can’t just show up in front of his house again, you didn’t want to disturb his recovery. Besides, school works are pilling up you need to focus studying and finishing some of the requirements. Your mind is buried into Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and you didn’t notice you passed out. When you woke up, you found Yuta beside you all snuggled up and waiting for you to open your eyes.

“Am I dreaming?” you closed your eyes and opened them again, no you’re not dreaming. He smile a little, you figure he’s still in pain. “Are you alright now? How did you get in?” you sat up to check his face and his arm. “I’m alright, I just needed to see you. I can’t take it anymore. I missed you so much” he reached for your hands and kissed your knuckles. He pats the mattress telling you to come lay with him in bed, and you did. Fingers intertwined and bodies close to each other, just how you like it.

“Why do you stay with me? You’re this perfect girl that fell in love with an addict”

For some reason you were scared of how he asked you that question. It almost felt like he’s going to leave you. There was a minute of complete silence before you answer him, “Because thats what you do if u love someone. You don’t give up on them. And just so you know I love you, and Im in love with you”

He chuckled but still careful not to overdo it because of the bruises in his face, “I know. I know that all too well” he placed his hand just above your jaw, and left a kiss on your forehead. “I’m trying to be better for you so I wont have to leave you eventually and go to fucking rehab. I can do this right?” hearing Yuta say that made you realise you were wrong about him wanting to leave you. He doesn’t want to leave, he wanted to be better for you. You kissed him on the lips pouring everything from the past couple of weeks in it. The kiss was wet but it wasn’t because of spit, but because of tears.

After what happened, he tried being clean but he just ends up taking drugs over and over again. There was a time that you caught him taking cocaine in his bathroom and he shut the door with a loud slam and told you to go home. Seeing him do things like that pains you to the core. He never wanted to hurt you like this, he never pushed you away because deep down he wanted to be better and if that happens he wants you to be on his side.

A week before prom, Yuta made sure he’s clean and he promised you he will never ruin prom night for you. As a way of celebrating for being fourteen days clean and spending time with each other, you had sex after a wonderful night spent with Yuta.

“Fuck I missed being inside you” he whispers behind your ear while his fucking you with a steady pace. As always, the way he fucks you can make you lose your mind and smile like a fool while moaning and gasping at the same time. You closed your eyes as you let go of the feeling and cum for the first time tonight, the moment you open your eyes you see Yuta’s eyes closed completely blown by the frenzy on being on edge. And bleeding.

His nose is bleeding uncontrollably.

“Baby- you need to stop” opening his eyes to ask if he hurt you, he saw the blood on your boobs, completely panicking. “Did I do this to you baby- where does it hurt?” you were crying already, not talking to him as you quickly wore your clothes and screamed for help, calling Ruka as loud as you can.

Yuta was completely clueless but his head was spinning and he feels so weak suddenly. “Baby! Don’t close your eyes, you can die- please stay with me” you were practically slapping his face to keep him awake as you help him wear his pants.

Everything happened so fast the moment you see his nose bleeding nonstop. You and Ruka rushed him to the hospital as quickly as you can. You were alone at the waiting lounge as Ruka takes care of everything Yuta needs to stay in the hospital.

All of your friends weren’t picking up because maybe they’re sleeping and tired from practice. But one person picked up and made his way to the hospital and brought you some clothes as soon as he can.

“I’m sorry Jaehyun, I didn’t know anyone else to call. I cant just simply call my family” Jaehyun was holding you close and comforting you as you cry for a whole hour. After changing to clean clothes, Ruka called you in to talk to Yuta. While Jaehyun is hesitating to come with you, “Jae, come on its okay. He’ll be happy to see you”

You were happy to see Yuta completely awake and smiling once you opened the door and entered the room with Jaehyun. You sat beside Yuta and kissed him on the forehead, “the sex was so good, you made me bleed” he joked around making all three of you laugh and you tear up again. “What’s happening to you?” you weren’t sure you wanted to know but you do know it’s nothing good.

“I’m fine baby, no need to worry” of course he will not tell you what’s going on because he didn’t want to make you worry. “Thank you Jaehyun. For being with her” Jaehyun nods at him and pats Yuta’s arm.

Suddenly your excitement for prom is replaced with worries for Yuta’s health. He needs to stay in the hospital for a week, and that covers prom. “We’re still on for prom right?” you were laying with him on the hospital bed as he shower you with kisses. If there’s anything he hates more than anything, that is making you disappointed. “Of course” you kissed him back, making him blush. “Can’t wait to see you crowed, Prom Queen” even though that’s not important to you anymore, you just nod and rolled your eyes on him.

He did got out from the hospital a day before prom, leaving him with only a day to rest. Ruka got him a nice tux that fits him really well, and you on the other hand tried to forget things that happened last week that completely ruined your prom excitement.

After working so hard on your hair and makeup, you finished getting ready just in time for your friends to pick you up. But Yuta is not yet here, when he’s supposed to be here already an hour before your friends arrived. “I think you guys should go, I’ll wait for him a little longer. I’ll see you there, okay?” you wave goodbye to your friends as you wait for Yuta on your porch.

You called Ruka to ask about Yuta, hoping maybe he just got problems with his tux. “Hey, Ruka uhm, is Yuta still there?” his answer broke your heart. The excitement was replaced with worries again, you called Yuta’s phone a hundred times but he never picks up.

A car parked in front of your house, hoping it’s Yuta. But it’s not, it’s Jaehyun. He drove to your house because he was worried, “What’s happening?” he worriedly asked. You were still trying to call Yuta’s phone, still no answer.

“Come one y/n, I’ll take you to prom” Jaehyun offered, but as much as you wanted to accept his offer Yuta’s excitement from the other day, flashed in your mind and you know you can’t go.

“I can’t Jae, thank you and I know you mean nothing but kindness. I’ll wait for Yuta here, he will get hurt if I go without him” Jaehyun didn’t really want to leave you but you made your choice.

The moment Jaehyun left, your tears finally fall. You were crying when your mom gave you a blanket and invited you to go wait for him inside. “I’m fine, thanks for the blanket” you were so hurt to even move. And you’re not hurt because he ditched you to prom, you’re hurt because you can’t reach him and you’re worried for him. A lot of things may have happened to him and that’s what worries you.

A week later, Ruka met you after school and told you that Yuta is finishing high school through home study under your school’s supervision. “He’s still part of the school, I’ll convince him to attend graduation. But,” something bad is about to happen, you thought. “he wanted me tell you that, he’s breaking up with you” and that’s it. You burst into tears after hearing the bad news. It was so hard to breath, hearing those words from Ruka and not directly from Yuta. But you trust Yuta’s decision and maybe it’s for the best. With a heavy heart, you hugged Ruka goodbye and left without another word.

You tried putting up a big smile during graduation and hugging everyone you knew all throughout high school, except for one important person. A week after graduation, you left for college. Still with a heavy heart but you wanted to move on and have a fresh start.

Ten years later

It’s impossible to forget your first love specially if that someone made an impact to your life. You’re sitting on the very spot where you met Yuta remembering how you were charmed by his smile. Mouthing the exact same words he told you before introducing himself first, ‘You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend’ smiling after you realised you’re completely a fool for still dwelling from the past.

You shrug it of and decided to go back to your high school reunion, maybe people are already looking for you. You stood up from the bleacher, “hi” and you almost fell from where you were standing and the person in front of you is to blame.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry” you told the man that it’s okay and you should get going, not even bothering to look who he might be. It’s weird that the man isn’t letting go of your hand, “Excuse me. I need my hand-“ your heart beats fast like the moment you first saw him. Nothings changed that’s for sure, except his hair color.

“Yuta” your eyes were full of tears but you were smiling the whole time. He pulled you in for a tight hug, holding you close like how he used to. It feels like a dream, you thought. A dream that you never want to end. Catching up with lost time, you spend the night with him forgetting about the high school reunion and watching over the same blue sky you used to look at years and years ago from his room.

He’s now an owner of a popular art gallery in Japan, which you happened to know about. “No way! You own that place, I went there just last year for work” he nods, and told you he knew. And he can’t believe you’re standing inside his art gallery. “I got scared. That’s why I didn’t talked to you” then you remember, on that day you were supposed to meet the owner of the gallery, “That’s why we talked to your secretary instead of the owner… which is you” he was nodding the whole time like a fool. It’s fun laughing the whole night not minding the time, he’s the same man you fell in love with.

“We missed prom because I was busy getting high” he suddenly blurted out when the both of you was silent.

“I went to your house I saw you waiting for me outside, crying because I ditched you” he’s wrong, you were crying that time because you were worried sick. But you saved your explanation for later, for now you just wanted him to explain his part.

“And I know I’m ten years late but, you look beautiful in that red lipstick. And oh! That dress on you, Mmm! I was admiring you from a far, and you were perfect” there he is again, making you laugh “and me I was high that time and I couldn’t ruin your night even more. I cant ruin your life even more” he reached for your hand and kissed it like he used to.

“That was my breaking point. After I finished the home study program, I begged my mom to put me in rehab, I want to be better for you. As always y/n. But as I got better I figured maybe you forgot about me already so I focused on getting better for myself. Went to college, had a job and now this. All better. Never want to go back” he left you speechless again, but he deserves to know the truth.

“Im sorry Yuta, I didn’t know. But for the record I was crying because I just wanted to see you that time. It doesn’t matter if you were high as a kite. I couldn’t care less about prom. I was waiting for you until the sun goes up and you never showed up. I was blaming myself maybe, I didn’t loved you enough thats why you left”

“No no, don’t say that. You were more than enough” tears never stopped falling from your eyes and Yuta hated seeing you cry. So he kissed you on the lips for the first time again for so many years. You rest your forehead on his, taking time to process everything that’s happening right now. Completely aware of what’s running in your mind right now he suggests to take things slow before coming back to each other’s lives again.

“Take all the time you need. I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never leave again”

................................................. Masterlist

Thank you for reading if you get up to this point hihi. Million thanks to every reader like you.

I had a hard time finishing this fic because the word count is originally, 9k+ and I’m not sure if my readers are up for that long fic... because I usually post fics that are 6k max long. But I guess it is what it is.

Hope someone enjoyed this fic huhu

#nct-writers #nct yuta #nct yuta smut #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto smut #nct angst #nct yuta angst #yuta angst #nct smut #nct aus #nct au #smut

510 notes · View notes

letswritebangtan · 4 years

Text

Let’s Get Tattoos Together

pairing: tattooartist!Jungkook x female!reader

prompt: Jungkook dreamed of opening his own tattoo parlour with his hyung, Yoongi, and when he finally did, you show up on his doorstep asking for a job and he’s not happy to give it to you. Lord knows how you two end up having sex in his studio. :)

warnings: mature content! 18+ read at your own risk.

ask box: open

masterlist

_________________________________________________________

You know those moments where you expect too much and then feel more pissed than let down because damn they fucked up bad? That moment was now. Jungkook and Yoongi stared up at the neon signboard in utter disgust and shame just thinking about how someone could screw up this bad.

“It’s not even black.” Jungkook muttered in disbelief.

“It’s neon.” Yoongi confirmed.

“They didn’t even get the spelling right.” Jungkook continued.

Yoongi huffed “. . . What’s ‘BONKED’ supposed to read as?”

“Sounds like a strip club.”

“Yup.” Yoongi said popping the ‘p’.

“We can’t afford a new one, hyung.” Jungkook whined.

“You don’t think I know that?” Yoongi said gruffly.

He was beyond irritated at this moment. Both him and Jungkook had poured their entire life savings into opening this tattoo parlor and he was one hundred percent sure that absolutely no one was ever going to walk into a painful neon green store called BONKED to get a tattoo or to get anything for that matter.

“We’ll just have to make do.”

“I feel like I’m gonna barf.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Well your barf on this building won’t make it look any worse.”

The weeks went by and the boys worked hard to start up this little business of theirs. Jungkook spent hours walking around handing out flyers to people to let them know that what they were standing in front of was indeed a tattoo parlor and not some front for a shady business. Meanwhile, Yoongi sat indoors and worked on how he could at least make the inside of the store look decent. It was a tough few months for them but they kept going. A few customers popped in once in a while and it was mostly Yoongi who worked on them because between him and Jungkook, he was more experienced and they wanted to leave a good first impression on their customers.

Jungkook spent his after-hours in the store working on sketches and practicing on himself. He was running out of space on his right arm so it was time for him to start thinking of where to go next. Even though Yoongi was more experienced, Jungkook was incredibly talented in his field. His attention to detail and the focus he had when working on a piece was flawless. Jungkook didn’t tattoo often, but when he did, his work always turned out to be perfect.

A few months into the business was when things started to get a lot more rocky.

“Did you clear out the register yesterday?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah, they’re in the safe.”

“We need to start doing our accounts, Jungkook-ah. Let’s see if we have anything we can use to change this place up a little.”

Hours and hours into doing their accounts the two fell face-flat onto their desks.

“We have nothing. Zero.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Actually, it’s negative. We’re in a deficit.”

The two of them groaned and flipped through more receipts and bills in hopes of some good news but they couldn’t do it.

“I guess I’ll grab some dinner.” Jungkook said as he stood up and cleared the table.

“Make it quick, I’m starving.”

“Okay, grandpa.” Jungkook mocked and Yoongi sent him a glare, making the youngest snicker.

The bell chimed and their attention moved immediately to the door. They watched you in surprise as you entered the store around 5 minutes before closing time. Looking around, you got slightly startled when you saw two guys gawking at you, but you cleared your throat and stepped forward slightly.

“Uh hi, you guys aren’t closed yet are you?”

There was a small silence for a while. Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to speak so Yoongi took over.

“We aren’t, but if you’re looking to get a job done you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you smiled nervously, “Actually I’m not here for any of that. I noticed that you guys are relatively new in the area and I was wondering if you needed any help around here?”

Yoongi looked confused, “As in, you’re looking for a job?”

You nodded.

Jungkook spoke up, “As a tattoo artist?” he said skeptically. His tone sounded offended and it struck you as quite rude.

You frowned at him, “No actually, not as a tattoo artist but as anything else.”

“Sorry, we don’t need anybody.” Jungkook dismissed you gruffly.

God, why was he being so rude?

“Really? I couldn’t help but notice that you guys aren’t doing too well here.” you spoke back.

Jungkook eyed you up and down. “Excuse me? What makes you say that? We’re doing great and business is booming. Isn’t that right, hyung?” he looked at the older man.

“Um, well it hasn’t-”

“See? Just fine.” Jungkook retorted.

“That’s a lie. I can tell if businesses are doing well or if they aren’t.” you crossed your arms smirking.

“Can you now? What makes you think ours isn’t?” Jungkook scoffed.

“Well for starters, I don’t see anybody in here-”

“We’re about to close.” Jungkook defended.

“I didn’t finish.” you said raising your eyebrows. “I don’t see anybody in here ever.”

Jungkook scowled, he was annoyed at the audacity of this random stranger to be entering his store and criticising his business.

“Secondly, no one around here knows what this store does. I spoke with the lady from the bakery across the street and she claimed that this was some kind of gay bar?”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked perplexed and their expressions had you holding in your laughter.

“It wasn’t until my friend came in the other day for a tat, that he told me this place was actually just another tattoo parlor.”

“Jesus Christ.” Yoongi huffed.

“Oh and also, the sign-”

“Don’t even.” Jungkook huffed and looked away.

You felt proud of yourself, but at the same time looking at these young, passionate boys’ faces you knew they must have put in a shit ton of effort to get this place up and running, and you had no right to just come in here and point out their flaws like that. What they needed was a solution.

“With all that being said,” you paused momentarily. “I can help you guys fix it.”

“I told you that we don’t need-”

“Jungkook, shut up for a moment will you? Go on.” Yoongi urged you.

“I majored in Accounts and Finance, I also have knowledge and experience on marketing, plus I’ve got a decent eye for things and that being said, that signboard has got to go.”

“Accounts? Wait, take a look at these.” Yoongi called you over to the table and Jungkook just watched in disbelief. The betrayal he felt from his hyung was unbelievable.

You stood over the table which looked like a mess, by the way. Papers strewn everywhere, random documents, some cash pile in the corner and a half-full mug of coffee.

“Sorry, it’s a little gross.” Yoongi apologised.

You chuckled, “It’s no big deal. Could I have a look at those receipts?”

The two guys watched you as you silently picked up different sheets of paper and scanned it thoroughly, mumbling numbers to yourself in the process. Well, these guys weren’t doing too bad but you knew they could do better. You glanced at the pile of cash at the corner of the desk and looked over to Yoongi.

“What’s that?”

“Hyung, she’s after our money.” Jungkook said quickly.

You glared at him and he shot you one back. Why was he out to get you? Despite his annoying traits, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was extremely good-looking. Well, the both of them were. But there was something about Jungkook that had you drooling in that small secret compartment of your head. He was well-built, his pecs pushing out through his t-shirt, his sleeves clinging to his biceps and his defined collarbones on full view. His hair was like a black mop, it looked soft and silky and it framed his face nicely. He had a really cute nose and the softest looking eyes but his expression was harsh towards you and you had no idea why.

“It’s what we owe. We’re running in a bit of a loss right now.” Yoongi said ignoring Jungkook.

“A loss?” you asked confused. “That shouldn’t be right, look.” you moved to sit next to Yoongi and showed him the contents on the paper. After explaining to him in detail you moved the pile of cash from the end of the table towards them.

“This is all yours, you guys. You’ve been looking at it wrong. This shop isn’t doing too bad, but it isn’t great either. If this keeps up, you’ll probably start making losses in the next 3 months or so. But you might not, if you’ll let me help.” you persuaded.

“And I’m not here to steal your money.” you said pointedly to Jungkook. “In fact, I won’t ask for anything for the first few months. When I’ve proven that I’ve improved this store and when you can afford it, you can pay me then. What do you guys say?”

Yoongi looked convinced, and he turned to the youngest to ask for his approval.

“Looks like we need her after all, Jungkook.”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you and took a deep breath, letting out a loud huff. “Fine, so be it.” he said grumpily.

You beamed and thanked them, Yoongi even shook hands with you.

“Hold on, you didn’t even tell us your name.” Yoongi asked.

“Oh shit, right. I’m sorry that was rude of me, I’m y/n.” you apologised.

“I’m Min Yoongi, and this is Jeon Jungkook. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, so we’re pretty close. It’s been a dream of ours to open this place.” Yoongi said smiling softly.

“That’s amazing, you guys should be proud that you’ve gotten here.” you said genuinely.

Jungkook glanced at you then and you made eye contact with him. He awkwardly picked up his car keys and phone whilst looking away from you.

“I’ll go grab dinner before they close.” he spoke to Yoongi.

“Oh no, did I hold you guys back? I’m sorry, you should really have your dinner. I’ll leave now.” you stood up.

“That’s alright, oh and Jungkook will walk you to your car, won’t you Jungkook?” Yoongi asked smirking.

Jungkook looked startled and had that same look of betrayal on his face, this time there was a shade of pink.

“What? But she can- ugh fine.” Jungkook grumbled. “Hurry up.” he snapped at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’ll have to excuse him, don’t take it personally.” Yoongi said to you once Jungkook was outside.

“Well that’s gonna be tough.” you replied playfully. “See you tomorrow! Good night.” you said cheerily and followed Jungkook outside.

____________________________________________________

Your first week at the job went by pretty quickly. Yoongi showed you around so you’d get used to the place. He showed you to your working space which wasn’t the best but it was the best that he could afford. There was that desk you used when you first entered, and there were some cute little plants on the table. They even gave you new pens, pencils and a calculator. There was a desk fan attached to your table and its wires were heavily tangled everywhere but it was all they had. It was obvious that they did their best to welcome you, and you felt touched about it.

Most of your time was spent doing the accounts of course, and you were really efficient with them. It was a really relaxed work environment, sometimes Yoongi showed up with coffee or some snacks which you appreciated. Jungkook would ask to borrow a pencil from time to time, and as much as you were mad at him you couldn’t say no because they probably gave you everything they had to make a good first impression and the thought that they couldn’t afford to buy more pencils saddened you. During your breaks you’d lounge around and maybe check up on Jungkook to see what he was drawing. Whenever you’d ask him he’d always reply with an annoyed grunt or he’ll shoo you away.

One day, you really tried to find that goodness in your heart to do something nice for Jungkook so that maybe he wouldn’t be so pissy towards you, so you bought him a carton of banana milk and a pack of oreos. When you handed it to him, he looked at you so weirdly and you became so uncomfortable that you never wanted to be in situations with him like that ever again. So the acts of kindness stopped. There was also another thing you made yourself be in charge of: weekly meetings. Yoongi always told you that you didn’t have to make it so official since it was just the three of you working just like how three friends worked on a group project but you insisted.

“Do I really have to write all this down?” Jungkook complained.

“Aren’t you secretary?” you scolded.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you better do your job before I fire you.”

Jungkook gaped at you and turned to Yoongi. “Hyung are you hearing this?!”

“Don’t make her fire you, Jungkook.”

It was about 10 weeks later and you were close to hitting the target set for the store. It was important that you proved to them that you were good at your job and that you deserved a place here. You didn’t want to leave, because it was really nice working with them. You felt secure and they were like your friends, or at least Yoongi was. That night, you stayed after closing time to continue working on statements. Something just wasn’t working, and you had to figure out what. After hours of staring at the same numbers over and over again you felt like you needed a break. Just then, Jungkook entered the corner of your workspace.

“You’re still here?” he asked surprised.

You nodded, “Well I’m not finished so yes. I don’t think I’m leaving anytime soon.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.”

Surprised, you looked up at him so fast that you startled him slightly.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you laughed softly as you stretched your body in your chair.

He scoffed, “I only said that because I’m the one who has to close up after you so if you don’t leave neither can I.”

“Thanks for ruining the moment.”

“My pleasure.” he replied with a smug smile.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from your chair and grabbed your phone and purse. “I’m going to get some coffee, want anything?” you asked.

“Coffee at 10 p.m.?” he asked while judging you.

“Well, I guess that’s a no.” you mumbled and headed to the door.

“Wait.” he called out. Turning around abruptly you didn’t expect him to be that close behind you that you ended up crashing into his chest. You stumbled but he caught you by your shoulders to steady you. He was looking right at you and this was physically the closest the two of you had ever been.

“Easy there, if you’re hurt Yoongi will literally rip me apart.” he mumbled.

Trying to ignore the redness in your cheeks you smiled awkwardly and stood upright as Jungkook let go of you. “I don’t blame him.” you shrugged and laughed when you saw Jungkook’s annoyed expression.

“Wait, I forgot why we ended up here. What was it you asked me?” you said.

“Right, I was uh- just you know thinking of maybe asking if you’d like me to drive you...to the coffee shop...” he said nervously.

“Wow.” was all that you replied, and Jungkook looked even more embarrassed.

“Forget it.” he said moving away.

“No! Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-just, yeah. Drive me, I’d like you to drive me there, please?” you asked quickly.

Surprised by your sudden reaction he felt his heart relax a little when you didn’t reject his offer.

“Okay cool.” he said clearing his throat awkwardly.

It was really quiet in the car, and also really awkward. There was so much tension with that embarrassing encounter the two of you had just five minutes ago. You tried to take your mind off it, and your thoughts aimlessly wandered to how handsome Jungkook looked while he was driving. His hair covered his eyes a little, and you could see all the piercings on his left ear. That’s hot, you thought to yourself. His tattoos on his right arm were visible as he gripped the wheel with that hand and at this point you were shamelessly staring at him.

“Enjoying the view?”

You hummed, and then snapped out of your daydreaming only to see Jungkook chuckling at you.

“I mean, no! I was just- I was looking out the window and I wasn’t really looking anyway I was thinking and your biceps were distracting so I-wait! No no no, shit what’s wrong with me?” you freaked.

Jungkook only laughed even more at this and then turned to look at you.

“Does y/n have a crush?” he teased.

You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, “Are you seriously teasing me about a guy when that guy is you?”

“So you are crushing on me. Interesting...”

“Oh my god, shut up! I am absolutely not, in no way attracted to you.”

“Ouch.” he winced playfully.

“You heard me.” you grumbled as you turned to look the other way so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. You thanked god that it was dark and he couldn’t see you red all over.

He snickered and pulled up in front of the coffee shop.

“I’ll wait here, could you grab something for me too? Surely you’d do anything for me since you know, you like me and all...” he continued to tease.

You grabbed your phone and purse and stormed out of the car. “I ain’t getting shit for you, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away which had Jungkook dying of laughter since literally everyone around was staring at you.

Back at the store, you sipped on your coffee as you worked out more numbers. Jungkook sat on the beanbag across from you sketching by himself. Yoongi had already left a while ago so it was just the two of you.

As you were writing something down Jungkook spoke up.

“How’d you know that this was my usual?” he asked holding up the coffee cup.

You looked up from the paper and looked back down, pushing your work glasses up your nose. “One time, Yoongi accidentally handed me your drink instead of mine and when I took a sip it tasted like garbage so followed my intuition and I ordered the worst thing in there.” you said plainly.

“My drink is not garbage.” Jungkook retorted.

“Yes it is, it’s not even coffee. It’s all milk and sugar.”

“Well I’m a milk and sugar person, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is your offending the real coffee-drinkers out there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with adding milk and sugar to your drinks.” Jungkook whined and you couldn’t help but to smile at him being effortlessly cute.

“Okay, whatever you say.”

But Jungkook wasn’t too happy with that response. “Say it like you mean it.” he ordered.

“Excuse me what?” you looked at him confused.

“Say that there’s nothing wrong with my drink.” he demanded.

You scoffed, “What are you, eight?”

“Well if you’re not gonna say it...” he shrugged.

You ignored him and went back to work. A few seconds later you nearly had a heart attack because Jungkook was pouring some of his coffee into yours.

“What the hell!” you yelled and tried to grab the cup from him and both your coffee’s ended up spilling all over the accounts sheets.

You just stood there in shock and disappointment as you stared at the soaking wet paper that could not be saved. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took in a sharp breath. “Jungkook.” you muttered lowly.

The poor boy was also in shock, knowing he fucked up badly and now he was going to have to pay for it.

“I- it was an accident I didn’t intend to-”

“Why are you such a brat?! You couldn’t just leave it could you?! I spend day after day rotting my ass off here trying to crunch these numbers and when I’m so close to finding something you had to shove your annoying ass into my work-do you know how much time has been wasted now that all these are gone and Yoongi is going to kill me if I don’t get this done in time even though it was your fault! And no, I will never admit that there’s anything fine with your drink, you or your stupid!-mmpfh”

It came to you as a shock when you realised you had a pair of lips pressed against yours. They were soft and they molded against yours perfectly making you weak in the knees. A hand cupped your face and brought you closer, your waist pressing against the table in front of you. Your hands rested below you on the desk as Jungkook kissed you, capturing your lips with his over and over again until you pulled away breathless. You couldn’t think with your mind in a haze. Jungkook looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was fall back to the chair behind you.

“y/n?” Jungkook said concernedly.

You cleared your throat and stood up quickly again. “I-I’ll get the mop and bucket.” you said softly before running out of there into the storage closet and shutting the door behind you.

You cursed yourself for reacting so stupidly. Jungkook must think that you hate him, but obviously you don’t. You really, really, like him, especially after having the feeling of his lips on yours - oh god, you fucked up. You remembered his scared and hurt expression when you scurried away like that. The worst part was that you had to go back out there. When you returned with the mop and bucket, Jungkook was gone, but so was the mess. He had cleaned up all by himself, wait, how long were you in there? You sighed and saw that he had left the store key for you to lock up, which means he had probably gone home. You had no idea how it had escalated to arguing about coffee, to this. But you knew that you’d rather be buried alive than to ever have to face Jungkook again.

_____________________________________________________

Yoongi had asked if you could pick up breakfast that morning since both him and Jungkook had an appointment and of course, you agreed. Business was picking up recently because let’s face it, you’re great at this job. Even though you lost those numbers since they got soaked in coffee, you managed to work your way around it and pulled up some income statements and cash book entries which clearly showed how well the store was profiting. You and Jungkook have not spoken since the incident and that was more than a week ago, and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to him and explain yourself but you were too scared. Plus he has been extra mean to you ever since, which made you not want to apologise even more. The only time he ever said something to you was when you were in the way and he practically snapped at you to move. That’s gotta hurt.

Most of the time you’ve been coming up with ways to avoid him, but today was not that day since you had to hand him his breakfast. You entered the main room where Yoongi was working and dropped his off. He thanked you and immediately went back to work. You were kinda disappointed, you had hoped Yoongi would give Jungkook’s breakfast to him but that was unrealistic so you guessed that now you would have to face a painful and awkward situation. After taking a deep breath you knocked on the door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and you stepped into the room. To say you felt awkward was an understatement. You wanted nothing more to crawl into a hole and die.

There was a female customer on the tattoo chair with the top half of her body completely bare and sitting in only her panties. Jungkook was leaned over her tattooing her breast and stopped to look at you. There was a warmth rising to your face as you just stood there and stared at them for a moment.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asked annoyed.

That snapped you out of your thoughts as you held up the bag shakily. “U-uh breakfast!” you might have said a little to loudly and then cursed yourself for it.

“I-I’ll just leave it here.” you mumbled quickly and put the bag of food down on the desk.

“Would you like anything?” you heard Jungkook ask the lady.

She giggled, “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Your face twinged in disgust, luckily you had your back facing them.

“Sure.” Jungkook replied shortly.

“Could you go a little higher, like over here?” you heard the lady ask and when you turned around to leave you saw her guiding Jungkook’s hand across her bare body and something inside you just made you feel so hurt and so shitty.

Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours. You immediately looked away and left the room. You couldn’t describe how you felt. This was Jungkook’s job, it was what he was passionate about, but you couldn’t stand to see people take advantage of that. He had just kissed you so passionately a week ago and of all days it was today that you had to bring him breakfast, and it was today that he had to have an appointment for a fucking breast tattoo. You groaned and muttered a string of curses as you walked back to your desk to eat your own breakfast. You chomped down on your egg McMuffin and got to work, hoping it would distract you from what you just saw.

An hour later Jungkook emerged from his room with the lady and readied her bill. The cash register was just opposite from where you sat so you watched them closely. Jungkook smiled and thanked the lady and obviously she enjoyed that attention but you were relieved when she finally left. Jungkook turned around to walk back into the room when he saw you watching him and his demeanor somersaulted upon looking at you.

“What?” he snapped coldly and you jumped in your seat a little.

You shook your head and looked back to the papers would were scribbling on, “N-Nothing.” you whispered.

He went back to his studio as Yoongi came out of his to get more plastic wrap.

“What’s up with you two?” he asked concerned.

“It’s complicated.” you huffed.

“I’ve never seen him that mad before.”

Hearing that was like having an arrow shot into your heart. You were right, he really did hate you.

“I-I..” you said with your voice breaking.

Yoongi looked alarmed, shit, what should someone do if a girl cries?

“It’s all my fault.” you sniffled as tiny droplets fell across your cheeks.

“Okay, no, nope. None of that. You are not crying, missy, you hear me? You are strong, and bold, and confident, and you aren’t crying over some stupid guy. Got that?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away quickly and straightened up.

“That’s it. y/n you walked into this store on your first day like a boss and you criticised us left and right and you put this place into shape. You’re freaking superwoman, okay? You shouldn’t be crying.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional.” you mumbled.

Yoongi sighed and sat down next to you. “Don’t be sorry. And we’re friends, there’s no need to be professional around me.”

“We are?” you asked smiling slightly through your watery eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Of course we are. And as your friend, I really suggest you talk to Jungkook.”

You shook your head, “But he’s scary.”

“Jungkook puts on a tough demeanor but he’s a kid at heart. He’d never do anything to harm you, you can count on that.”

You nodded and smiled softly at him, “Thanks, Yoongi.”

“What are friends for, hm?”

________________________________________________________

Now you had a task at hand. Talk to Jungkook. You just had to talk to him. No big deal, it’s just talking. To Jungkook. Fuck, you had to talk to Jungkook. Slamming your pen down you ran your fingers through your hair and whined. It was about time you grew a pair but it wasn’t that easy. Time flew as you sat at your desk and pondered about what to say and when to say it. It drove you crazy. Until one fine moment, all your courage rose from the pit of your stomach and you stood up determined to talk to the guy. Just as you maneuvered around your table to go to him the bell chimed. Hot damn, who was that?

This guy had a face sculpted by god himself. He was tall with brown hair, his wrists adorned with multiple strings and bracelets. His silver piercings shining under the store lights. The way he dressed really stood out to you, a beret on his head, sunglasses and patterned clothes, he really reminded you of a gucci model. He smiled at you as you walked over to him and you smiled back waving at him.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” you asked.

He removed his sunglasses and wow he looked even better.

“Oh no, I don’t. I’m actually here for the job? My name’s Kim Taehyung, I saw the sign outside.”

You had convinced Yoongi and Jungkook to finally place a “We are hiring” sign on the window because they could now afford it, plus, it would attract more attention.

“Oh I see! So you’re a tattoo artist?” you asked interested.

“Well, I’m hoping to be.” he said making the two of you giggle.

“Well are you good?” you inquired.

“Hmm, I would say I have a few things up my sleeve.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Well let’s hope you impress us.”

“I hope that I shall.”

The two of you laughed together again, man you really liked this guy.

“What’s going on here?” you heard a deep voice. Jungkook appeared from his room and scowled at the two of you laughing together.

“Oh, t-this is is Kim Taehyung, he’s here for the job.”

Taehyung reached out to shake Jungkook’s hand but he left him hanging.

“Another case of y/n, hm? That’s not too good.”

You gaped at him and you were about to retort when Yoongi joined in.

“Ah, you must be Taehyung.” Yoongi said smiling.

Taehyung finally felt comfortable seeing a familiar face. “Yes, and you must be Yoongi hyung. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine. A friend of mine knew Taehyung in art school and he recommended him to me. Let’s see if you’re as good as Seokjin claims you are.” Yoongi said.

Taehyung laughed, “I promise to do my best.”

So that led to the current situation. The three of you huddled around Taehyung watching him work on a piece. He had gotten one of his friends to demonstrate the piece for him who’s name you learned was Jung Hoseok who was also pretty cute. You were questioning the odds of you being surrounded by attractive men all at one time wondering if the universe had something planned for you. But you ignored it to watch Taehyung working. One thing you’ve noticed since working here is that every tattoo artist has their own unique style. They were all different, yet all so incredible. Taehyung had the same amount of focus and concentration Jungkook always had when he was working. Yoongi was always more relaxed, his talent flowing from him naturally. However, Taehyung could perfect designs neither Yoongi or Jungkook had ever done before.

The buzzing stopped and Taehyung stepped back to review his work. Everyone was in awe, he did a really great job and Yoongi loved it so much that he asked Taehyung if he could post it on their shop’s Instagram.

“That depends,” Taehyung said, “Are you going to hire me?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Need I say any more? y/n, what do you think?”

You smiled, “I think he’s great.”

“What do you know about tattoos?” Jungkook snapped.

You looked at him angrily and he ignored your stare.

“For a tattoo artist it’s surprising you don’t have any tattoos.” Jungkook questioned.

Taehyung frowned, “Do I need to have them?”

Jungkook looked slightly dumbfounded with everyone staring at him. “No-I mean, it’s just surprising-”

“Yeah it is.” Taehyung ended the conversation abruptly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and looked away.

“It’ll be great if you could start today. We have a customer coming in anytime now.” Yoongi said.

“But he’s scheduled for me.” Jungkook spoke up unhappy.

“You can take the 3 o’ clock, Jungkook.” Yoongi dismissed.

Jungkook licked his lips, obviously irritated by Yoongi’s decision.

“I never got your name?” Taehyung turned to ask you.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you smiled.

“It’s great to meet you. I have a feeling we’ll be getting along pretty well.” Taehyung grinned.

You blushed slightly because how could you not when this insanely attractive man was outright flirting with you.

“Your 3 o’ clock is here, get to work.” Jungkook snapped at him.

“Right, I’m on it.” Taehyung cleared his throat.

_____________________________________________________

Taehyung blended in pretty well. He was no doubt good at his job, a lot of customers end up super happy with what they get and so Taehyung was really good for the store. The two of you also got along great, he was like your new best friend. He would come over and talk to you between breaks and he’d send you a lot of memes which kept you happy and entertained throughout the day. One time he brought a pack of cards to work and once you guys were done for the day you played Snap while eating dinner, which was a terrible idea because Taehyung kept hitting your hand real hard and one time he spilled his entire bowl of soup and himself and started to yell because it was hot and man did you laugh until you couldn’t breathe. Obviously, Yoongi and Jungkook were there to witness all this because you guys always spent meal times together. Yoongi would usually ignore the two of you and go on his phone, and you’d call him a grandpa for not wanting to play card games. Jungkook was reserved, also on his phone but he would glance over to the two of you from time to time.

It was another night at the shop and it was nearly opening time so you were at your desk drafting statements and also counting the money from yesterday’s earnings. Jungkook was on his beanbag sipping some banana milk and sketching on his notepad as usual and Taehyung was next to you helping you separate the bills.

“I’m really curious as to how you got a job here.” he asked you.

You scoffed, “Why, can’t a woman get a job in a tattoo parlor? Just because it’s a sausage fest in here, I can’t be a part of it because I don’t have my own sausage?”

Taehyung laughed heartily and you smiled, giggling to yourself.

“You know what I mean.” he urged.

“I just came in one day and asked. At first they said no, and then I made them a deal they couldn’t refuse.”

“Why would they say no? You’re great at what you do.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Tae. But the shop wasn’t like this back then, they couldn’t afford me.”

“Hmm, but you did so well at university. You could have had many other options, why here?”

“Well, I saw two guys desperately trying to make their dreams come true and you know, I just wanted to help them.” you said smiling softly. You remembered all the fond memories you hard building up this place with them. They were priceless.

Jungkook could hear everything the two of you were saying, he felt a pang in his heart when he heard how all you wanted to do was help them, and he had been nothing but mean and rude to you from the very beginning.

“That and, well, I needed to start earning something. My parents have gotten pretty old. Mum is really sick and dad spends all his time taking care of her. Before that, they used to own that bakery across the street.”

“Wait, you mean Rosie’s bakery? Like...the pretty fucking amazing one?”

You laughed, “I guess you can say that.”

“I used to go there when I was a kid, it’s been around for so long. It’s such a shame it got closed down. I’m really sorry about your mother too, by the way,” he said sympathetically.

“No that’s okay. She’s still around, I thank the heavens that I get to see her for just one more day. They wanted me to take over, but I could never do all that by myself.”

“Why not? I’m sure you could.”

You shook your head, “I never want to let them down, you know? That bakery was like their baby, I didn’t want to step in and ruin it. Some things just eventually come to an end.”

“I understand.” he nodded, “But you’re here now though, things worked out, right? Look at how lucky you got, you now have a Taehyung in your life!”

You grabbed a book and smacked him across the shoulder with it and he yelped, but laughed along with you after. The bells chimed and the first customer came in, Taehyung left to work on them so it was just you and Jungkook in the room. As you picked up your pen to work again a voice made you halt.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him in shock and confusion. Why was he talking to you all of a sudden?

“What?” you asked confused.

He sighed and put his sketchbook down and walked over to you. He sat on the chair next to you and all you could do was watch him.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you since day one. There’s really no excuse for that, I’m really sorry.” he said looking at you.

“Jungkook...” you trailed off.

“Yoongi and I worked really hard to get here, like really, really hard. There were days we never got to eat, nor did we have a roof over our heads. Despite all that we always had each other, and we had each other’s backs. When we finally opened our shop, I was beyond excited. Even with that shitty sign outside that we got rid of, this shop was still a great achievement. When you showed up, I just...felt threatened? It was stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just felt like someone might screw this up for us or that all of this might go away and that was so terrifying for me. I realise now that you genuinely wanted to help us even though I was an asshole, and I just owe you the biggest thanks ever y/n because you played a huge part in making my dream come true. Instead of thanking you and showing you my appreciation all I did was yell at you and piss you off and I just, god, I hate myself for it. I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and so does Yoongi. We owe it all to you.”

For the past month Jungkook never said more than two words to you, but now he was giving you a whole ass speech? Man, here comes the waterworks.

“Shit, y/n, are you-oh god please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I’ll stop I just,” you inhaled, “I can’t stop.” you sobbed.

Jungkook pulled you to his chest and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. He murmured reassuring words, telling you that it was okay while he rubbed your back softly. You pulled away embarrassed and tried to hide your face as you wiped off tears messily and sniffled. God, you must look so horrible right now.

“Sorry I-” you sniffled, “I’m fine now. I’m fine.” you heaved.

“You sure?” he asked.

You nodded and smiled at him, making him smile back.

“I uh-” you started, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for making you feel insecure, and no it’s not stupid, your feelings are absolutely valid, Jungkook. I just had no idea I made you feel that way, it must have been bad for you, I’m so sorry. And I forgive you, thank you for saying all that but, it’s not me who made all this happen. It’s you, and Yoongi. The both of you are so talented, I’ve seen how you work too. Jungkook you’re incredible, okay? Like, yeah I don’t know anything about tattoos but I know a pretty thing when I see it and your work just blows me away and you should be so proud of that. That’s what brought you here, not me.” you said.

Jungkook nodded and looked at you fondly, “Thank you for saying that.”

“And uh...when you walked in that day-”

“It’s fine.” you cut him off feeling embarrassed and not wanting to talk about it.

“No y/n, it didn’t mean anything, okay? I saw how hurt you looked and I felt really bad.”

You shook your head, “Jungkook you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s your job, I was wrong to be upset anyway.”

“You don’t have to be jealous.” he chuckled.

You groaned, “She was blatantly flirting with you!”

“And I ignored her. Plus, I didn’t share my food with her.”

“You didn’t?” you asked hopefully.

“No, I didn’t.” he chuckled, making you grin.

You bit your lip and nodded back at him. “And, you know, what happened that day...”

His eyes widened and he took your hands in his, “I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that, I made you feel uncomfortable and I still hate myself for doing that to you until this day...” he said apologetically.

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have ran off like that, it was so stupid of me.” you shook your head.

“I thought I scared you.” he said with so much guilt in his tone.

“Jungkook,” you whispered. You laced your hands with his firmly, “You didn’t. Not at all, I was just surprised and I didn’t know how to react. I must have hurt you, I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I really like you and...yeah.” you said shyly.

Jungkook had a small smile on his lips, “You do?”

“Mhm.” you said looking away.

That smile turned into a smirk, “So I was right, y/n did have a crush.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “It’s gonna fade if you keep at it.”

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. I like you a lot too, y/n.” he said looking right into your eyes. His confidence was admirable.

“You could have been nicer you know? You wouldn’t stop sending me daggers through your stares and I even got you banana milk so you’d warm up to me but that was just weird, so then I didn’t know what to-mmpmh.”

And there it was again. Those soft lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your hands moved to his hair to bring him closer as he pressed his lips against yours, occasionally pulling away only to dive back in again. His hands moved to your waist and pulled you on top of him. You finally felt all that muscle on him through his shirt, he really was as ripped as you imagined him to be. He poked his tongue softly past your lips and you let him in.

“Always...wanna...kiss you.” he said in between kisses.

You sighed and let out small noises of pleasure, grasping on his locks.

“So pretty.” he mumbled as he pulled away and moved to your neck, planting wet kisses there.

You moaned when he bit down on the flesh of your neck, which made him sigh heavily.

“You sound exactly like I pictured you would. So needy.” he growled.

“Jungkook.” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he continued to mark you.

“W-we really shouldn’t-ah-be doing this here.” you squeaked.

Just then his lips met your sweet spot and you could help but let that loud moan ripple through you, catching Jungkook by surprise.

“Fuck, you even sound pretty.” He continued to abuse the skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue until he finally pulled away to look at you.

Your face was flushed, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ears and rested his forehead on yours. He placed another soft kiss on your lips, making you smile. Your hands remained around his neck and you fidgeted for a bit before asking him.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I said that we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you said biting your lip.

He looked taken back at your sudden boldness and smirked at you.

“Are you saying you want me to have you over my chair in my studio?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

_______________________________________________________

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung asked with his lips pressed together.

“Yeah?”

“Are they-”

“Yeah.”

_______________________________________________________

Business was picking up yet again, and to celebrate the anniversary of the shop’s opening, Yoongi decided to throw a small party at his and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Taehyung promised to get the alcohol and dragged Jungkook with him. Yoongi was spending the day cleaning the apartment and grumbling about how Jungkook is gross and never keeps the place clean. Yoongi was also inviting his other friends Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. They apparently graduated art school together and were some of his best buds. Jungkook knew them too, and he had introduced you to all of them. You were pretty close to Seokjin since he just has an incredibly friendly nature and he’s always cracking lame jokes which you can’t help but find funny. So it was your job to get the food for the party and Seokjin was told to go with you.

“y/n there’s soju!” he called loudly in the supermarket where literally everyone can hear him.

“I told you, Taehyung’s in charge of the booze, he probably already got some!”

“But he doesn’t know the good kind, like I do! Pleaseee, look there’s like 8 different flavours.”

“Seokjin.” you huffed.

“Okay fine, but if this party’s lame I blame you.”

“Why am I even friends with you, dork.” you grumbled.

Seokjin helped you reach the foods on the higher shelves and you were grateful for that. He also paid, another reason you became extra nice to him. It was already late in the evening and you guys had to get back and get ready for the party. You lugged the huge bags of snacks through the corridors, these guys really did eat a lot. Seokjin rang the bell and after a while Jungkook answered the door.

“You guys eat like pigs.” Seokjin huffed as he carried the huge bags of food.

“Hyung’s the one who goes through all the chips!” Jungkook retorted.

“Do you hear how he speaks to me?” Seokjin complained to Namjoon.

You giggled at them and moved to enter when Jungkook blocked your way.

“Nu-uh.” he said smirking.

“Move your fat ass out of the way, these are heavy.” you huffed.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, kiss first.” he demanded puckering his lips.

“Gross, who would wanna kiss you?” you said fake disgusted.

“y/n!” he cried like a child.

You laughed and dropped the bags on the floor and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your torso keeping you pressed against him. You pulled away and nuzzled your nose against his.

“Can I come in now?”

He caught your lips with his again and bit on your bottom lip. You moaned softly making him inhale sharply.

“Guys, can you not do it at the damn doorstep?!” you heard Seokjin yell.

Jungkook and you laughed and he moved to carry the bags in being the strong man that he is. Later that night all of you huddled in front of the TV with blankets and more snacks. Most of them were passed out due to the high consumption of alcohol. You and Jungkook were still awake, and he was playing with the hem of your shirt while placing soft kisses on your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“You smell good.” he mumbled, pressing more kisses on your neck.

You only smiled and let him continue.

“Wonder if you taste good too.” he said casually.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you smacked his arm softly.

“You would already know that.” you played along.

“Hm, yeah I do.” he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

He turned your head to face him by cupping your cheek.

“y/n” he murmured against your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Wanna taste you.” was all he said before his lips touched yours again and your mind went into a frenzy.

I’m just gonna say that the guys were lucky to have been knocked out that night. There were some pretty scandalous things happening in Jungkook’s bedroom.

_______________________________________________________

the end! wow this took me the entire day to write but it was totally worth it. who else is whipped for kook? :”)

also stream dynamite! love u guys <3

343 notes · View notes

fallout-lou-begas · 4 years

Photo

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good.

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger.

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many.

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #ranger ghost #art #fallout elevated extras #elevated extras #from me

135 notes · View notes

detectivejay-chuckles-halstead · 4 years

Text

Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 4

Description: Jay reaches out when he needs it

Warnings: Emotional Whump

Pairing: Jay x Reader (Eventual), Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic

Words: 1620

A/N: No worries, our favorite best friend will be back in the next part. I’m on a roll, the muse assisting to keep the creative juices flowing!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You checked in with the ED, knowing Jay got discharged later that day despite his doctors wanting him to at least stay the night for observation. He was stubborn, you were learning. Though, you’d be surprised if he wasn’t. You felt bad though, knowing he was going to be on desk duty for a while. It seemed as if he’d been through it before, knowing the routine pretty well.

It took a couple days for your phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on the screen. You’d just gotten home from work, tossing your bag on the couch. Honestly, you’d just been looking forward to a bath, some TV, and a glass of wine before bed.

“Y/N,” you told whoever was on the phone as you answered it.

“Hey, hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Jay answered, a smile quickly forming on your face.

“No, I just got home. What’s up?” You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the bottle of wine out of the refrigerator.

“I don’t want you to have to move your schedule around on my part to visit Mouse, so I’ll just tag along whenever you go.” There was something more to it, though. You could tell by the uneasiness in his voice, stopping yourself from opening the wine just yet.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I usually go on Mondays and Thursdays. You okay, Jay?” you finally asked.

“Honestly.” You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ve been better. Just a little stir-crazy you know? On medical leave for a little bit, and I really don’t want to take a taxi anywhere.” He chuckled nervously. “And Hailey’s at work, which makes sense. And so is everybody else. And Will is still pissed off that I got shot. I know he just worries but…”

“You’re rambling, Jay. Do you want me to come over? We could order a pizza, watch a movie? Just until somebody gets off work,” you offered, knowing it was going to be a 50/50 shot that he’d take you up on the offer.

“You sure? I’m not always the greatest company.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way. Just text me your address,” you assured him, putting the wine back in the refrigerator, glass in the cabinet. There went your plans for the night, but spending it with Jay seemed like a better option.

You were at Jay’s apartment less than an hour later, pizza box in one hand, pack of beer in the other. You weren’t sure if he was on pain meds or not, but figured it wouldn’t be a long shot that he was more of a beer guy than a wine guy. Making quick work of the stairs, you knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” you heard him call out, letting yourself in. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” you assured again, setting the pizza down on the coffee table in front of him. His lap was covered with a blanket, a pair of crutches right next to the couch. It was a well kept place, not overly fancy, but not a shit-hole either. Being a detective must have meant he made some pretty decent money. “You want one?” you then asked, holding up the six pack.

“Maybe later. The kitchen is right over there, if you could put it in the fridge. You’re more than welcome to have one though.” You followed the direction of his pointed finger, placing the pack in the fridge before going back into the living room. Quickly, you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket before joining him on the couch.

He’d turned on a documentary, eyes fixed on the screen except when he reached out to grab a slice of pizza. You knew better than to push it, knowing there was something more just under the surface. There had to be a reason he’d called you and not somebody else. It reminded you of sitting with Mouse, though you knew Jay was more than capable of expressing whatever was on his mind.

The documentary came to an end, Jay flipping through channels before settling on the hockey game. You’d propped your feet up on the table, leaning back onto the couch.

“You gonna be okay?” you asked him softly, Jay looking at you finally.

“Eventually,” he agreed with a nod. “I just...I don’t like being cooped up, you know? Gives me too much time to think.”

“I get it. But I’m here to listen if you want to talk. Not as a doctor, but as your friend,” you reminded him, Jay nodding again.

“I’m going to get one of those beers. You want one?” he asked, uncovering himself and grabbing his crutches. You tried not to look, didn’t want to make it seem like all you were going to focus on was his leg -- or lack thereof. But you noticed the white bandaging on the remaining section, shorts covering most of it.

“Yeah. I’ll take one,” you agreed before he walked over to the fridge. He had it all down pat, how to get around and grab what he needed to. That’s what thirteen years of being an amputee would do to a person. He handed off the bottle before sitting back down and covering back up.

He didn’t drink the beer though. He’d popped the top off, held onto it for a few minutes before discarding it on the table.

“It’s the same every time,” he finally said, your brow furrowing as you tried to understand. The two of you looked at each other as he continued to talk. “The first time I got shot on the job was a through and through on my right shoulder. That’s what got me into the unit I’m in now. It’s a running joke. You get shot, you get to choose your unit. The second time was after my dad died. Grazed my side, but no lasting damage. The third time I almost died. Right shoulder again, hit an artery though. The doctor said I should have died. That it was a miracle. And it’s the same every time. The ‘pop’ of the gun, the searing pain.”

“I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like,” you reminded him.

“I know. It was different, though, in Afghanistan. Here, I know I could get shot. Over there, it was just a question of when. A few grazes, nothing major. I mean, there was a firefight every day. But here, it’s the same every time.” He was repeating himself, that was the first thing you noticed before the shift in body language, hands gripping the blanket a little tighter, the stiffness in his shoulders and jaw.

“Jay.” You put on the psychiatrist voice, the soft and soothing voice. You didn’t move to touch him, staying firmly where you were. “You’re not there.”

“I know. I know. I just- God, what’s wrong with me?” he confirmed, shaking his head as if it was an etch-a-sketch trying to get rid of the picture.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Like I said the other day, trauma can bring things up that we try to push away. It’s completely normal, a natural response. But the only way to work through it is to talk about it. Not to push it away.”

“Now you’re sounding like my last therapist,” he joked with a small laugh, despite the tears brimming in his eyes, running a shaking hand over his face.

“It is what I do for a living. But you do need to talk about it, Jay. To anybody, doesn’t have to be me. Doesn’t have to be a professional. A friend, a coworker, just someone.” This time, you reached out, letting your hand rest on his arm, rubbing circles on the flesh with your thumb.

“Mouse and I didn’t get to come home together. He was still in a coma, clinging to life in Germany. I got to come back though, knowing most of our team was dead or dying. And I walked away like this. It took a while. Will was in New York partying. My dad never liked that I joined the military. And my mom...she was really sick. So, I suffered alone for a long time. I learned to compartmentalize, to deal with the nightmares and flashbacks. Not in the healthiest way at first, a lot of drinking. A lot of drinking.” He nodded. “And when Mouse did get to come home, I threw myself into making sure he was okay. He was what brought me back time and time again.”

“You have a support system now, Jay. Your brother cares about you, that much is obvious, though he may not always understand. Your team is there. You were talking about your partner Hailey. I’m sure she’d listen and support you. There’s always Mouse, though he may not give the clearest advice at times.” You both laughed at that. “And you have me. You’re not in this alone anymore, Jay.”

“Thanks for coming over. It means a lot. Can we talk about something a little less morbid than about how fucked up my head is?”

The rest of the night was spent talking about his job, your job, how you grew up on military bases. It was the same type of conversations you would have with Mouse. It was normal, familiar. And that’s what he needed, letting him lead the conversation. As the night continued on, the sun long gone over the horizon and moon in the sky, there was one thing you became sure of. Whatever drew you to volunteer knew that you needed these two men in your life as much as they needed you.

Tag List: @yzas-stuff @gemmafountainloves @ceiliesla @corebore123 @annaallicce @fullwattpadmusictree @bethii1 @thevelvetseries @mich-lynne3 @itmejado @music-is-my-escape71 @not-onlyedmlyrics @supergirl000983 @mandybug39 @okiegirl24 @haileymatthewss @httphiddlestan @capmanranger @ahhh0ahhh @bookgiver @daenerys-targaryes @galacticsmoon @beachfan412 @wearesodrica @danielacastellon @genericcaner @halsteadsway @theskytraveler @miranda0102 @amyarondottir @onechicago18 @lovecatystuff @doramstr @itsdesiree86 @raveenasblog

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #mouse chicago pd #fanfiction

144 notes · View notes

raleighcarrera · 4 years

Note

16. Best Tattoo vs Worst Tattoo for Raleigh x MC because I am addicted to how you write them

best vs. worst prompts / 16. best tattoo vs. worst tattoo

the worst tattoo

she squints, eye-level with raleigh’s hipbone. “but... what is it?”

the huff he gives, as he reaches down to swat at her arm, is exasperated. “it’s a diamond.”

cadence’s grin spreads, her pointer finger poking at the -- admittedly blurry -- tattoo. “as in... baby you’re a diamond, let me give you a ring?”

raleigh’s silence is answer enough. then he sighs, “shut up.”

“talkin’ bout forever,” she continues, “i’m not here for a -- raleigh!”

cadence wiggles where she’s suddenly flipped beneath him on the mattress, laughing as she squirms in the sheets. “oh my god, you’re such a baby.”

“you’re a baby,” he insists, pinning her flailing arms down to the bed above her head. “you’d better watch your mouth.”

“oh yeah?” she challenges, lips splitting into a grin, “what’re you going to do about it?”

“you won’t like it,” he warns, settling more fully on top of her, pressing her down with his weight. “but... if you stop being a brat, i’ll tell you about the tattoo.”

her eyes widen, and she nods as innocently as she can, pursing her lips shut. “i promise. let me up!”

he does, and they lay side-by-side in bed, shuffling until they’re sharing the same pillow. her eyes drop back to the tattoo at the top of his thigh.

“so -- it was the night of our album release party,” he starts, voice heavy and serious as though he’s telling a story of great loss and not something that’s objectively hilarious, “i was sixteen and very, very drunk. obviously i should not have been allowed to get a tattoo, but -- what artist is going to say no to raleigh carrera?”

“unbelievable,” she murmurs, and then, when he arches an eyebrow at her, “sorry -- continue.”

“so me blair and cameron kill the bottle of patron and blair is like, we’re going to be best friends for the rest of our lives, this is unreal, our lives are changing forever -- yadda, yadda, yadda. the album debuted at number one and everyone was freaking out. i was a kid with more money in my bank account than i knew what to do with. anyway, cameron was the one to suggest the matching tattoos. he said if we all got diamonds it’d manifest the album going diamond.”

“okay, but -- that’s so cute. so -- are you telling me you all have those blurry little blobs on your legs?”

raleigh rolls his eyes. “well... i went first.”

her teeth bite at the inside of her cheek to stifle her laugh. “oh, no.”

“yes. those fuckers backed out as soon as it was done. i could have killed them. but at least it’s small, i guess.”

“sure, but... why does it look so --”

“bad?”

she nods hesitantly, her expression curious.

“well, it was, like, four o’clock in the morning. i don’t know that anyone should be tattooing that late. and i think it’s probably gotten worse with time.” his hands slide slowly up and down her arms, the expression on his face thoughtful. “i almost got it covered up, when we first met. but then you did that whole -- your past and your present can coexist, thing, and you changed my mind.”

cadence’s eyes soften when they meet his. she leans in a little closer, until her nose bumps into raleigh’s affectionately. “that’s really sweet.”

he shrugs, as though it’s nothing -- but it’s not, and they both know that. their lips meet gently in a brief kiss.

“you know...” one hand dips below the sheets to curl over the tattoo below his hip. “it’s not so bad.”

the laugh he gives is closer to a scoff than anything else. “it’s pretty bad.”

“yeah, but it’s part of you,” she argues, expression warm, eyes bright. the look on his face lightens, and something like tenderness creeps into raleigh’s eyes. “and i love every part.”

“corny,” he mumbles, just before he pushes her back down flat for kisses again.

the best tattoo

“are you sure about this?”

raleigh grins at her from where he’s already shrugging out of his shirt, buttons undone and fabric falling to the floor. “positive, babe. i’ve been saving the perfect spot for it.”

“you’re out of your mind,” she mutters, shaking her head good-naturedly as he settles into the tattoo chair, chest pressed to its front. raleigh waves her over while the artist finishes setting up behind him, and she goes, slipping her hand into his.

he thumbs at the engagement ring taking up a majority of the real estate on her hand, his eyes suspiciously soft in the studio lighting.

“nervous?” she asks, squeezing his fingers.

“nah. i’ve done this a thousand times. bet you i won’t even flinch.”

“big talk from someone who hasn’t had blood work in five years because of the needles,” cadence hums, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from her fiance.

behind raleigh, the tattoo artist holds the cocktail napkin with the design printed on it aloft. “we’re still going with this, right?”

“right,” raleigh chirps, “smack dab on the shoulder.”

cadence peeks around and sees the sketch already in place. her chest feels tight with affection, her stomach doing happy backflips. “it looks sick,” she admits, teeth digging into her bottom lip to stifle a smile.

“how could it not?” he asks, his mouth twisting into that familiar smirk that’s had her heart racing since day one. “you’re looking at art, right there. that’s the world’s most perfect set of lips.”

“oh my god,” she laughs, as even the tattoo artist chuckles, “shut up.”

her gaze flits down to the napkin, sitting innocently on the table. her own lip print, stark red when she’d first kissed the napkin last night but now a little faded, stares back at her.

they’d been at some dumb, boring industry party when it came to him. there were plenty of people who tried talking to them, but raleigh led her around the room by the hand until they’d dodged every last one of them and found a corner of the space to be alone in, grabbing a tiny table by the kitchen where no one would bother them.

he’d ignored the food and drinks in favor of kissing her for what could have been hours, until her mouth felt sore and her jaw was tender from the repeated scratch of his stubble. still, she sighed wistfully when he pulled away to let her breathe, just as dumbstruck by what an amazing kisser he was as she had been that very first time their lips had met backstage.

“i can’t wait to kiss you for the rest of my life,” raleigh had murmured with his hands cupping her face, pressing first into her jaw and then the corner of her mouth, trailing his thumb along her lipstick-smudged bottom lip. “you have the most perfect mouth.”

“raleigh,” she’d breathed, so overcome with love and affection for what felt like the most perfect man that she had to kiss him again, eagerly, until the rest of the room melted away.

“seriously, though,” he’d said, staring at her in fascination as the tip of his thumb disappeared into her mouth when they broke apart again, “i have an idea.”

and that was how they found themselves here, with her squeezing his hand and smiling sweetly at him while her exact kiss print was inked onto his back, right in the little spot on his shoulder where the rest of his tattoos ended and she so loved to press her lips, in the mornings when she found him in the kitchen making coffee or in the shower when she slipped in behind him or even above his jacket, if there were other people around, and her arms folded around his waist from behind, just because she wanted to say hello and couldn’t resist the temptation.

“check it out,” the artist declares finally, when the buzzing has stopped and the ink is wiped away, just before she’s about to tape him up. “it looks great.”

she steps around to get a good look at it, and, yeah -- those are her lips, stuck on raleigh carrera’s body forever. smudged-lipstick imperfections and all. “holy shit.”

“lemme see,” he demands, shifting in front of the mirror and twisting around eagerly. “oh, dude. it looks awesome.”

she stands around dazed as raleigh gets dressed and exchanges fist bumps with anyone in the studio who will offer them, signing everything puts in front of him and passing over a stack of cash so fat no one will ever know they were here.

it’s only when they’re back at their penthouse that she says, “i seriously can’t believe you did that. this is, like, the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

she knows he’s about to say something hopelessly cheesy by the goofy grin that takes over his face, at odds with the way the adrenaline from the tattoo still has his pupils blown wide. “fitting,” raleigh replies, tugging her towards their bedroom before she’s even got her shoes and jacket off, “that’s exactly how i feel about you.”

#raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #raleigh x mc #myfic #long post #choicesarehard #ok thank you for sending this and sorry it took so long 💕#hope you like it queen !!

33 notes · View notes

lambourngb · 4 years

Note

How bout some Michael POV for your masterpiece?!!!

This takes place during chapter 2, Michael has just exited the mindspace and is waiting for the agents to question him.

“I take my last chance, to burn a bridge or two”

Michael had passed the point of exhaustion both two days and ten years ago.

The thin, plastic covered cushion in the holding cell at Chaves County Sheriff's Office had the same feel of familiar comfort as his camp bed mattress in the Airstream, both places adequately met his needs after a bender or a brawl. He was never one to shy away from dropping into oblivion, met in the bottom of the bottle or at the end of a long night of working on his ship, until today. Closing his eyes meant slipping into the almost hypnotic state of the mindspace, and then he would hear her voice again.

His mother. Golden and whole for a moment. She was the energy between his cells, the original instructor of his atoms, funneling life into him; to grow and be strong.

“Oh my beloved son, oh you’re here, you’re here already grown and bound, I’m here, but no time, not enough time, there’s so much you should know my beautiful boy, I love you, I love you so much, I will always love you, now go, run, run for me.”

His eyes snapped open as the burn of tears threatened again. Goddamn it, he didn’t have time for that. Taking a deep breath, he stared up at the unremarkable ceiling to force his mind to go quiet. It was an old building, but built soundly. Not a crack in the plaster, not a flaw to betray its age. It housed the broken, who knew where home was but stayed away in the arms of intoxication; the evil, who knew home as a place for violence or thievery, and the lost, who longed for a home but never found the way back. All those souls gathered under its roof, this solid roof that sheltered without wear or tear.

At one time Michael had been all of those; deep into the dark warmth of drunk, or full of crooked wagers from dice games, he had even been picked up on a cold night a time or two with nowhere to go. Marked by violence in a tool shed, the system shocked with such a hard shove on his orbit, that he was knocked forever from the path he once had as a teenager, left to wander in all of those grim directions.

Once upon a time his English teacher assigned to the class, near the end of term with graduation nipping at their heels, some busy work in the form of a ‘where do you see yourself in ten years’ thought experiment. His hand had sketched out a good job, college degree, and a house, while his mind traveled the fantasies of holding the small hands of a child, of helping pat dirt down over a buried seed in his garden, of Alex, always Alex, playing his guitar on the back porch-

Fuck. His bare left hand, now whole and hale, mocked him.

Michael wrenched his mind back to the present, and dug out a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket to wrap over his left hand. He tied a knot, pulling it tight with his teeth. A bitter smile crept over his mouth, using his teeth again for the grip he lost in his hand was familiar at least.

Hopefully whatever trouble that Max was in, was teaching him a lesson in meddling where he wasn’t wanted. High on power Max thought to heal his hand, but took no care to think about the damn consequences of everything, of Noah, of the things Noah was up to in Roswell. He flexed his hand again, the tight constriction of the fabric felt comfortably close to how the scar tissue pulled and tugged over his ruined knuckles. Already there were too many questions to answer, he didn’t need one more on his hand.

As angry as he was at Max, he couldn’t help but hope that the flash of pain/wrong/vacuum wasn’t so serious that he couldn’t be useful now. Ride into the Sheriff’s Office, explain away the questions to his boss about Noah and Racist Hank, so Michael could be released without need of Alex and Alex’s story.

Goddamn it Alex. Showing up at the Wild Pony, those hopeful dark eyes turning wounded and betrayed as he realized that just because he didn’t see Michael as suitable, someone else did. Like he had the right to protest Michael moving on from them. It wasn’t Michael saying that they couldn’t be together because of Michael’s record, and it certainly wasn’t Michael saying that their relationship wasn’t worthy of a pyrotechnic breakup.

And yet. When the pyrotechnics were happening, Alex was there. Immovable. Saying everything that Michael had longed to hear for ten long years.

“I love you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you and I would give anything to have this story be true, that you were mine all along.”

A tear slipped down his unshaven face as he blinked rapidly. Alex was so stupid, how could he miss the fact that Michael had been his? Across the years, through two different battlefields, and after Alex had finally come home, Michael had worn two concrete boots, Alex and Isobel. Each his own anchor to this planet, as he worked to complete his ship.

The door swung open, startling Michael off the bunk, as a tall, dark haired man was escorted into the room by Agent Ross, who shot Michael an annoyed look. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready.”

The imposing cut of the military uniform and densely packed square of ribbons on his chest sent a shivered down Michael’s spine. It was only just over two days since Michael had been involved in the destruction of a secret military operation.

“Michael Guerin?”

“Depends on who is asking.”

“I’m Major Mark Torres, attached to the JAG office at Kirtland Air Force Base.” The officer tucked his cover under his arm and held his hand out toward Michael.

None of what this Mark Torres said made any sense to him. Kirtland was three hours away, Holloman was the closest base to the Caulfield facility. Michael lifted his eyebrows mockingly, but made no move to step closer to the open cell door, “That’s nice and all, but I’ve got nothing to say to anyone until my lawyer shows up.”

An amused smirk flitted over his mouth, “I am your lawyer, Alex sent me.” Instead of waiting for a response, Mark entered the cell and took a seat on the bunk, turning to Michael with a patient expectation. He placed the brim of his cover next to Michael’s black cowboy hat and then pulled his slim briefcase into his lap. “I admit, this isn’t how I expected to meet you, the infamous Michael.”

“Alex got me an Air Force lawyer?” The rest of that implication, that Alex had spoken of them to anyone in the past, let alone someone in the service was too much to even think about.

“I’m a lawyer who’s in the Air Force, and I’m doing this in the civilian court system pro-bono,” Mark replied easily, and popped the fasteners of his briefcase open to pull out a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Now that we’ve covered why I’m here, let’s talk about why you’re here. Tell me everything you know about Noah Bracken, what your connection to him, why the police might think you’re involved with his disappearance, and why they found a body when they came to question you.”

Michael stared at Major Mark Torres for a long moment, weighing his extremely limited options. The distant place inside him, where his faint connection to Max lived, was still and empty. He rubbed his wrapped fist against his face before sighing as he took a seat next to him. Alex said to trust him that he would get Michael out of this, and whatever mess that lay between them after Caulfield and now Maria, Michael believed wholeheartedly that Alex didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

As a rule Alex Manes didn’t make promises at all, to anyone, least of all to Michael.

“I know Noah Bracken, I mean everyone does in this town and I have a record, petty shit obviously, but that’s enough I guess for them to suspect me. But I have an alibi, I was with my boyfriend all night- hell, I’m with him every night. We’re kinda makin’ up for lost time since he was in Iraq, until well-”

“You’re referring to Captain Alexander Manes, correct?” Mark asked, scratching notes down on his pad without looking up.

“No one calls him ‘Alexander’, but yeah. Alex.” Michael licked his lips almost nervously, before he took a deep breath. This was the easy part of the alibi. “Alex is everything to me. I fell in love with him when we were seventeen, and I never stopped fallin’.”

“He did mention you were a romantic.” Mark nodded in approval of Michael’s words and capped his pen, “let’s start with the last time people saw Bracken in public at that-, good God, this town has a museum dedicated to aliens? What a thing to celebrate. Anyway, Alex tells me you’re a mechanic, that you can fix anything you put your hands on, were you at the gala for business purposes?”

Michael stuttered a little, feeling his face heat in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to anyone singing his praises, let alone a complete stranger. What did Alex say to this guy? “Um I helped do the lighting and sound for the organizer, Isobel. Um, Isobel Evans-Bracken. I left Alex at home, err, my Airstream ‘cause he doesn’t really enjoy the dog-and-pony show even though there was free booze. I gave a friend a ride home, Maria Deluca, and then spent the rest of the evening with Alex. In bed.”

His pen never stopped moving, “and last night, when this Hank Gibbons ended up dead, you were with Alex again? At your Airstream again?”

“Yeah, um, Alex lives pretty far out of town, and I had work in town. Um, during the week he spends a couple nights at mine, on weekends we’re at his place. Compromise.”

Spinning this fairy tale of shared residences to Torres, of disappearing to Alex’s cabin on the weekends and splitting the time apart during the week renewed an ache inside Michael. The slow turn of a bolt, burrowing into his heart as the threads of the light caught on hope and corkscrewed deeper into place.

“No one can corroborate that, correct? Other than Alex?”

“We’ve been keeping our relationship quiet. For personal reasons.”

This time Mark’s pen came to a halt, and he looked over to Michael with a sad understanding smile, “I’ve met Alex’s dad. He’s a first class prick. I’ve never met anyone more different from Alex in my life.”

“That’s for sure. Niger can have him. In fact, I hope he gets Ebola over there.” His eyes glanced up to the video camera on the corner before dropping to Torres again. Michael paused, hedging the risk of this disclosure, before continuing, “I’m not a violent man, but if I were, I wouldn’t bother with the town lawyer or the local racist asshole, it would be to protect Alex from that guy.”

Mark followed his gaze to the camera and back, before nodding. “I think I know all I need to know about you, Michael. Let’s go clear this up with the locals and get you released.”

***

“You were with Captain Manes all night? You didn’t leave at all?” Agent Ross asked quietly, his thin face placid, while his partner, Agent Rollins barely held back the curl of disgust from his face.

“Have you seen Alex? Like dude, I know I’m punching way above my class with him, you would have to be crazy to leave a bed that had him in it.” Michael smirked, fiddling with his hat on the table. Next to him, Major Torres stayed quiet taking notes.

“And he can confirm that?”

“Yes. I know he didn’t let you have a good look, but my Airstream isn’t big enough for him to miss me leaving. Trust me. We were together all night.”

“Let’s go back to the fight you had with Mr. Bracken-”

“Man, that’s bullshit, okay?!” Michael cut him off, “I did not have a fight with Noah, and whoever says differently is lying.”

Mark set down his pen to touch Michael’s hand lightly, before looking at the two agents evenly, “one eyewitness, on a dark night, does not overturn the alibi provided by Captain Manes. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“This relationship you’re in with Captain Manes, he’s alluded to the fact that it was kept secret. I find that rather convenient, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to help out a friend. Maybe cover up the fact you were having an affair with the wife of our missing lawyer?” Rollins smirked, exchanging glances with his partner.

It took a moment before Michael could catch the inference, and then only Mark’s tight grip on his wrist kept him in his seat. “Wait?! You think I’m lying about Alex to cover up for an affair with Isobel? What the fuck, man? Number one, that’s gross on a number of levels, number two, Alex is the most stubborn man alive, but he’s also the most honorable. He wouldn’t do that for anyone, especially not about adultery. He could get court martialed for that shit.”

Ross picked up his turn to provoke, offering another even almost-bored question to Michael, “I see, you deny that an affair was going on with Ms. Bracken. So you’re not attracted to women then?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Torres protested.

“Mr. Guerin opened the door earlier, basing his alibi on how attractive a bed partner Captain Manes was.”

Michael took a deep breath again, pushing down the nettled feelings of exposure. Of all things he thought he would be discussing at the sheriff’s office, this wasn’t anywhere on the list. “Not that it’s relevant, but I’m bisexual, yes. I’m also monogamous. It’s not that difficult to understand. I love Alex, I wouldn’t cheat on him with anyone.”

“So on the night of the Gala, that was thrown by your platonic good friend Mrs. Bracken, you were there, without Captain Manes, but in the company of a Ms. Maria Deluca. Another platonic friend, I assume. Do you remember anyone bothering Mr. Bracken? Someone who might have wanted to harm him?”

***

Hours later, after they had combed through every minute of Michael’s time at the gala and the night before when Hank Gibbons was at the Wild Pony, the agents finally concluded their questions and granted his release from temporary custody. There was still an air of disbelief from both agents regarding his alibi being with Alex.

From the outside, Michael couldn’t blame them. Even setting aside his spotty employment record, rap sheet, and history of being in care of the state, anyone with eyes could see that Alex Manes was a man who could have his pick of partners. Why would he pick the outcast of Roswell? It didn’t make sense to Michael that was for sure, and that had been true almost from the beginning.

“This was fun, Agent Rollins. Let me know if you want me to go over my movements from the other night again, and Alex’s even better movements. I can really open up on that, if it helps,” Michael offered, stomping the blood back into his boots as he left the interview room eagerly.

There was some satisfaction in seeing out of the corner of his eye, Agent Rollins looking as if he had bit into a lemon.

Next to him, Torres grabbed Michael’s forearm with a warning squeeze and steered him down the hall where Alex was waiting with a worried expression. “What my client means is, you have my number if you wish to schedule a follow-up interview. We’re happy to cooperate in any investigation, especially if it leads to Mr Bracken returning safely home.”

Alex’s eyes flickered from Torres’s hand on his shoulder to the agents and back to Michael, but there was a hint of smug satisfaction in those dark eyes. Somehow Michael knew that Alex was holding back amusement over his graphic words to the bigoted agent. Well, there was no sense in not completing the performance.

He moved into Alex’s space comfortably, and brought his hands to Alex’s neck to draw him into a kiss. His last memory of kissing Alex, had been handled and revisited to the point of being thread-bare before being set aside as an old fantasy out of reach. Feeling Alex’s arms come up and hold him close, sent shocks down his fingertips as he cupped Alex’s chin to hide the chasteness of the kiss from view.

Alex wasn’t playing fair in return.

Those big, firm hands of his slid up Michael’s back, and threaded into the sweat-thick curls of his hair. Michael felt Alex’s lips part against his, that clever hot mouth opening to Michael, and nothing tempted Michael more in that moment, than following Alex’s lead.

That long bolt of the lie, turned deeper inside him, shredding the few safeguards he had in place. Alex loved him, Alex wanted to protect him, Alex had never stayed before- so many truths, so many reasons he wasn’t able to trust this especially now. Michael kept his mouth closed, and after a second, he felt Alex back away. They were good at that at least, retreating.

Alex’s cheeks were warm, probably from the public nature of the kiss, even as his face showed only the firm resolve of their shared story. His eyes drifted down, playing his role of a shy lover with Michael expertly. “You uh, ready to go home then?”

“Long past ready, darlin’.” Michael exhaled tiredly, already wondering how he was going to make it through this without losing more of his heart than he had to spare in the process. He reached for the familiar weight of his hat in his hand, and tipped it to the still watching agents.

#malex fic #fake dating your ex because of the feds #no beta here #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #missing scene #no excuses ask meme #hmd023

71 notes · View notes

hisunshiine · 3 years

Text

Money Heist | knj | Part 4

moodboard 1 | moodboard 2 | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Kim Namjoon x Reader starring in a bank robbery au

↳ M-18+, implied sexual content, major character deaths, bank robbery actions (violence, use of weapons, deciet)

The sound of the static coming from the radio woke me from my nap. Groggily, I shifted in the car seat and noticed that Ilsan was not in the driver’s seat. I began to change the frequency until I found a local Hawaiian station. We were the highlight. Everywhere. Our descriptions were plastered all over. We needed to leave Hawaii. It was that simple. We could not stay for too long.

The female radio host explained how every path out of the country was blocked. The authorities were adamant about locating and capturing the last two remaining thieves. It had been a little under a week since we left the condo and it felt like there was no way we would be able to get rid of them. It was as if they were closer than I could see. Every corner we passed, I was certain I would see a sea of armed police officers ready to shoot a bullet in my skull.

They were zeroing in on us.

As much as we denied it, Ilsan and I had silently been thinking of Gwangju and Seoul. It was either surrender or go out with a bang. What mattered more? Our lives intact and in prison to rot forever or our lives cut short. There was no right answer and it felt as if I had no control. However, all we knew was right now we were together and for now, we were alright.

Ilsan walked over to the car with a bag in hand. He sat on the driver’s seat and began to groan as he pulled out items that would help us alter our appearances, “They said you had dark hair,” he handed me a blonde wig.

“Namjoon. They have police everywhere.”

“I know.”

“We won’t be able to leave.”

“We can try. The airline strip not far from here.”

“So, we are sticking to the plan?”

“He should be there to operate it for us. Get us the hell out of Hawaii. It would be easier to show up at the airport.”

“The cops wouldn’t expect that,” I murmured and he chuckled. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” He looked at me with a smile on his lips until the radio hostess caught our attention. She announced that the mastermind known as the Professor had been spotted and arrested in Egypt. Ilsan squeezed my hand as a way to reassure me, “We’ll figure it out,” he said as he gently tucked my hair behind my ear, “We always do.” But despite his words, I could not help but feel utterly alone.

They had us. They took Gwacheon’s, Gwangju’s, and Daegu’s lives, captured Busan, GC, and Seoul. And now, they had the Professor. Case closed. They were only missing us. Although I could not see them, I felt the noose around my neck.

➰

We pulled to a gas station. I leaped out and Ilsan waited patiently until I returned. He kept guard. Luckily, the gas station was at a remote place. There was nothing but roads around. A single car was parked and we assumed it belonged to the owner.

Inside I paced as I collected snacks. We had been riding relentlessly with no pit stops, taking turns to drive while the other slept a little. We had one goal; get the hell out of Hawaii. The airstrip was a few miles ahead and that was our ticket to leave. The Professor knew where everyone was and hid in Egypt. Unfortunately, he had been caught. Nonetheless, he made sure back in Jindo that all of us would have an escape route if we ever were in the position to leave our condo as well as flee the countries we were hiding in, unrelated to each other and with zero communication.

I got to the register and did not make eye contact with the hefty and sweaty locals. With the items on the counter, he began to ring them in as the overbearing heat made my scalp itch. The cheap wig Ilsan had bought was bothering me and the urge of ripping it off my head overcame me. I must have looked uncomfortable or something because I sensed the man slowed his pace. I eyed him momentarily from the safety of my sunglasses and requested he hurried up. I did not appreciate how he glared at me. As he did, however, I noticed his cellphone on the counter. It was within my reach and I contemplated the best strategy to take it. We had not informed the pilot that we would be cashing in on our escape plan. That cellphone could be useful.

I bumped into a shelf filled with bags of candy with such a force that the bags fell onto the floor, creating a loud sound that made the man halt and rushes over to me. Pretending to collect some of them while repeatedly apologizing, I stood when he began to mimic me and collect the bags from the floor. I used the opportunity to lean over and take his phone. That was when I noticed the police sketch of Ilsan and me. My heart caught in my throat as a sudden sting of fear pressed harshly on my chest. No wonder the man kept glaring at me.

I rushed out of the station and walked back to Ilsan who was casually leaning against the hood of the car, “We have been spotted,” I said out of breath and simultaneously the hefty man came out and began to yell after me.

Ilsan jumped into the driver’s seat and we drove away as fast as we could.

➰

The sound of Ilsan groaning as he slowly woke up made me glance at him briefly before my eyes returned to the road. The window was open and the cold breeze cooled our bodies as we drove under the overbearing sun. Ilsan did not say much upon waking. He glanced at the phone I had stolen and dialed the number we were forced to memorize back in Jindo.

After a few attempts, Ilsan grunted in frustration. The pilot was not picking up, “Fuck,” he hissed.

“Try again.”

“I’ve tried three times.”

“Try again.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed, “Still nothing.”

“Well, he can’t just ignore us.”

“Maybe he’s not,” Ilsan said, “What’s the number?” I repeated the exact same number as he had dialed, “Yeah, it’s the same number. He’s fucking us!”

I flinched as soon as he threw the phone, sensing his growing frustration, “Namjoon.”

“Just drive.” I bit my tongue but I could not help placing my hand on his thigh. Despite his irritation, he took my hand and kissed the back of it, “I am sorry.”

“We should be there soon,” I said as I sped up, “We’ll figure it out, even if it means we have to hijack one and hold someone at gunpoint.” He began to chuckle as he caressed the back of my head.

“Get in the plane.” he mocked my voice and I grinned when suddenly a bump so fierce made the car bounce violently, “What the fuck?” Ilsan turned his head to see what I had hit, “Shit Y/N, that’s spike strips!”

“Namjoon.”

“We just hit spike strips! Why are there spike strips on the road?”

“Namjoon... ”

“What is it, baby, what is it?” I panted as I stared at the sea of cop cars and armed men and women pointing their guns at our car ahead. He matched my gaze and spotted them as well. “Baby, stop the car,” he murmured.

“I can’t.”

“Turn around.”

“I can’t, we fucked our tires!”

“Drive out of the road,” he instructed and I did.

The soil underneath made the car shake violently as the tires of the vehicle were disintegrating. I drove as fast as I could with tears running down my cheeks when the sudden sirens behind us went off. I glanced at the rearview mirror and wept at the sight of the police cars chasing us. Ilsan kept encouraging me to drive as he reached for the bag behind his seat, pulling out an RPD. With the window rolled down, he aimed the heavy machinery at the cars behind us, firing at them.

I could not think straight. I did not know how they got ahead of us, how they knew where we were. That was when I noticed the dash of the car. The cell phone I had stolen mockingly glared at me. I should not have taken it. My mind was racing as I attempted to keep the car as steady as possible for Ilsan. However, the ground underneath was too unstable. It was not meant to be driven on. By continuing, I knew there was no way we would openly surrender ourselves anymore especially with Ilsan shooting at them. Yet the images of Seoul giving himself up suddenly roamed my mind. He must have been as scared as I felt, Gwangju as well. But we gave up our right to surrender unlike Seoul and had chosen the same path as Gwangju.

When I could not see any more land, I hastily hit the breaks. Ilsan banged his head and cursed under his breath, “Namjoon, look.” I stared out at a beautiful ocean. No land in sight except a long way down.

I backed the car slightly and the sirens got louder and louder until they stopped. I shakily shifted as I glanced at the rearview mirror, spotting the police officers getting out of their cars, slowly and cautiously approaching ours.

They had us. There was no way out. We were stuck. They did not know our names but they yelled at us to step out of the car.

Every inch of me shook violently. I could not form any thoughts. The whole situation felt surreal to me. My brain could not comprehend what was going on. Then, as I whimpered, I felt Ilsan’s hand on the back of my head. He pulled me closer to him, foreheads pressed against each other as he repeatedly said he loved me. I wept into the long kiss he placed on my lips.

I had no idea what was going to happen but Ilsan murmured, “I shot at them to slow them down, baby, I am so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“You know you are the best thing that has happened to me, right? I love you.” He said in between the many kisses, “Do you trust me?” I nodded at his question as I clutched his jaw, kissing him as if it were the last time I would ever see him. “I failed to protect you. If we step out, they will shoot us.” I eyed him through a blurred vision, panting as my heart accelerated. “Trust me,” he tenderly kissed my forehead as he reached for my seatbelt, securing me in place, “Keep driving,” he then whispered as he clutched the RPD before letting go of me and stepping out of the car.

As soon as he did, I heard the officers shout at him to put the gun down. I begged him to return but he immediately dropped to the ground. Blood splashing everywhere as his tall and lean body took countless bullets to the chest. I cried out as I witnessed the love of my life, the man I chose to marry and spend the rest of my life with getting shot dead before my eyes.

My foot lingered at the pedal as my heart shattered into a million pieces. Then as my side of the car was forced open by one of the officers, he instructed fiercely with a gun pointed at me. I gazed out to the ocean briefly as Ilsan’s last attempt to keep his promise roamed my mind.

Keep driving . He wanted me to take my chances with the ocean instead of them. He did not want to fail me.

With pressure on my foot, I accelerated and drove the car off the cliff. Every inch of me was numb. I closed my eyes as the free fall made me feel light. Mind empty, heart aching, I gripped the steering wheel with tears running down my cheeks. I understood why Gwangju went out as he did and admired him for his bravery. I could be just as brave, surrender to a being unknown and embrace whatever that was beyond life.

Fear for the unknown was not the right word to use to express how I felt. Every waking moment, since the heist, was an uncertainty. Every passing day I had to look over my shoulder. Senses on high alert, heart-pounding fiercer, I had to stay sharp. And I did with the love of my life, Kim Namjoon, beside me. All we had to rely on were each other; our intuitions, rationality, the rush of adrenaline as it pumped through our veins as it guided us to safety. And I did not regret anything. How could I?

Although it was short-lived, I had experienced something only a few did. True love. I would never regret receiving that note. For the first time in my life, I belonged somewhere. I belonged with my brothers and more importantly, I belonged with Namjoon. I was meant to find him. Like a chain of events, everything I did was supposed to lead me to him, to this moment, and to this ending.

➰

T H E E N D

➰

9 notes · View notes

mageicalwishes · 3 years

Text

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen & Up

Chapter: 1/? (More chapters to come a little later in Dec + Early Jan!)

Summary: A loose crossover between Carry On and parts of I'll Give You The Sun. "He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured."

Carry On Countdown, Day 10 - Crossover @carryon-countdown

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Social Anxiety, Crossover, Pining Baz, Artist Baz, Space Enthusiast Simon, Star Gazing, Anxious Thoughts, Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 10

Words: 2,145

Baz

I need to stop thinking about grey, slippery roads and black shrouds. About the purple under my Father’s dull eyes, and the red of my Aunt’s anger. I need to stop thinking about me - About my life. My head is too loud. Too noxious. I need someone else to take my mind for a while. I need to see. To paint. And so, I search for a subject.

Dragging my binoculars across the bleak, colourless houses, I search, desperately, for even a glimpse of a hue. But the colours are slipping from the world again. They always do when I’m trapped in my head.

And then I see them - The movers - so far from colourless that I’m dizzied. They’re great work horses, both of them - One chestnut, and one palomino - Hulking a grandfather clock up the house-next-door’s stairs. I’m zooming in, before I have time to reconsider - Into the stretch of navy against the flex of their arms, the rose flush of their foreheads, the tan swath of smooth stomach revealed each time they lift their arms. And then ... Shit.

I drop the binoculars onto the floor, my body following swiftly behind them. Because, on the roof of the house, there’s a boy pointing a telescope directly at me. Fucking Hell. How long has he even been there?

I risk a glance over the top of my windowsill. He’s wearing a tatty purple jumper, and there’s a mess of bronze curls tangled atop his head. Even without the binoculars, I can see that he’s grinning at me. Is he laughing at me, already? Does he know what I was doing? That I was watching the movers? Does he think that I’m ...? He must. Why else would I be ogling them. God. I feel the dread pinching at my throat, and try to tether my mind, so that it doesn’t get away from me again. Maybe he’s just a smiley person. Maybe he thinks I was looking at his clock. That’s equally as plausible, surely? And, I mean, he has a telescope. Dickheads don’t tend to have telescopes, do they?

Tugging at the ends of my hair, I stand. When he sees me he waves, but before I have a chance to reciprocate, he’s reaching into his pocket, drawing his arms backwards, and lobbing something straight at me. (Maybe he is a dickhead, after all).

On reflex, I stick out my hand. The unknown object slapping hard against my skin, as I close my fingers around it.

“Nice catch!” He yells. His voice deep and bright, with a definite Northern tinge. I decide that I like it. It suits him.

But, I don’t know what to say back. So, I don’t. Instead, I examine his potentially dangerous ‘gift’ - Spinning the rock around in the palm of my hand. It’s small (About the size of a pound coin) and covered in irregular lightening-like cracks. What am I supposed to do with it? Do I throw it back? Why did he even throw it at me, in the first place? I don’t know, but I slip it into my back pocket for safe-keeping, anyway.

When I look back at him, hoping for some kind of explanation, he’s turned himself back towards the sky. Too focused on looking through his telescope to notice me. Which, to be honest, is odd. I mean, it’s daytime. What could he possibly be looking at?

Even though I’m curious, I don’t stick around to find out. I’m worryingly off-kilter, and I need to rebalance. I hadn’t prepared myself for meeting a new person. I wasn’t ready. And so, I run to the place that I know best, to recuperate - The Art Institute. Where I can carry out further recon on the studio.

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

It was a good, productive sketch session. Nobody caught me peeping through the window, and I was able to get a few decent body references down. But … I don’t feel my usual post-art calm. My mind is still racing (Although, with a different genre of thought than earlier).

Every over time I have visited, the models have been women. Posing demurely, with a bowl of fruit or silks. Arms placed, to partially protect their modesty. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. But today … it was a bloke.

I don’t have a problem with that (Not really). There’s nothing wrong with blokes. And there’s nothing wrong with naked blokes, either. I’m mature enough to handle that. A body is a body. A sketch is a sketch. And I’m an artist first, queer person second. I just … hadn’t expected it. And I don’t like to be caught off guard. So, I’m feeling slightly rattled. I just need to get home, and get back to normality. To safe things - Like a beach scene, or a self-portrait. Familiar things. No more surprises.

And yet, a few steps into my walk back home, I see the guy from the roof leaning against a nearby tree, the same lopsided-grin aimed over at me. I blink, confirming his existence, and then he’s talking. Stood, barely 3 metres in front of me, in the dirt.

“How was class?”

He says it like it isn’t the strangest thing in the world that he’s here, with me, where he really has no reason to be. Like it isn’t only just slightly beaten in its absurdity by me, sketching propped-up on a wall outside, rather than inside, the studio. Like we aren’t complete strangers (Because, no matter how much he may be smiling at me, we don’t even know each other's names yet).

‘Yeah, sorry, I kinda’ followed you. I wanted to check out the woods, but I wasn’t sure of the way. So … I just tagged along. Figured you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry though, I wasn’t watching you the whole time. I was busy with my own stuff.”

He points to an open suitcase filled to the brim with ... rocks? As if that’s normal.

“My meteorite bag’s all packed.”

I nod like that explains something, but it really doesn’t. Meteorites? I thought those were in the sky, not on the ground. And what does that even mean? He just carries around pieces of infinity. For what?

I look at him more closely, studying his face for any sign of disingenuity. For any sign that he’s just having me on. But I find nothing. Nothing … bad, anyway. Just a deep dimple accompanying his crooked smile, and miles of tawny skin, speckled with moles. He exists in shades of orange and gold. He’s the sun. And I can’t look away.

“Stare much?”

I drop my gaze, embarrassed - Staring down at his scuffed Nikes, as my neck prickles with heat. I don’t talk. What am I even supposed to say to that? Yes?

“Well ... you’re probably just used to it from staring at that bloke for so long. You know … for your drawing.” I look up - Grey meeting blue. He’s eyeing my pad curiously. “He was naked?” He breathes in as he says it, like the words stole his oxygen. It makes my stomach plummet, but I try to keep my face calm. I think about him watching me, watching the movers. How he watched me, watching the model. He must know. And ... I don’t know how I feel about that, just yet.

He looks down at my pad again. I don’t understand why. Does he want me to show him the drawings of the model bloke? It seems like he does. And some disturbed part of me wants to. But I doubt it. ‘Hey stranger, wanna’ see how I draw dicks?’ said no sane person ever. My stomach twists tight, and I’m out of control - My brain hazy amongst the moment’s tension.

“Look, man,” he sighs, half-smiling as he scrubs at the back of his neck. “I legit’ have no idea how to get home. I tried, but I just ended up back here. I’ve been waiting for you to lead the way. You don’t mind do you?”

I don’t think I mind. Do I? I don’t know. I shake my head, anyway, and point him in the right direction.

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

It’s a long way home, and we walk the majority of it in silence (Well, near-silence. The bumping of his suitcase creating a constant accompaniment to our steps). I try and resist the urge to look back at him. The urge to ask him all of my ‘Why?’s - Why did you follow me? Why are you still following me? Why are you collecting meteorites? Why were you looking at the stars in daylight? Why were you looking at me in the daylight? It would only make me more muddled. So, rather than relent, I take out my invisible brushes and start to paint behind my eyes.

And, after a while, I feel myself settling back into my skin. The dancing trees and setting sun relaxing me, in spite of the moment’s unsteadiness. Or ... maybe it was him. He’s an alarmingly relaxed person (I mean, I don’t know anybody else who would just follow a stranger around, with zero self-consciousness), so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had some sort of ‘Realm of Calm’ thing going on around him.

When we emerge from the woods, returning to our familiar concrete-laden pavements, he spins around and jumps in front of me. Ecstatic.

“Holy shit! That is like ... the longest I’ve ever gone without talking in my life! I was holding my breath just trying to keep the words in. How do you even do that? Are you always like this?”

He’s a mile a minute, and I’m lagging behind.

“Like what?”

And then he’s laughing at me. I can tell that he’s a person who laughs a lot, from the way he lets it take him over so easily - His whole being lightening up, as the sides of his eyes crinkle, joyfully. But it’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s not a mean laugh. It just makes me feel a little bit fizzy inside (In a good way. I think).

“Dude! Are you kidding? You do know those are the first words you’ve said all day, right?”

I didn’t, actually. But I don’t tell him that. He’d probably just think that I’m more strange than he, no doubt, already does.

He’s properly cracking up now (Although, I don’t know what, exactly, I did that was quite so funny). “And then you’re all just like ‘What?’”. </p>

He makes an absolutely atrocious attempt at imitating my accent (Which leaves him sounding like some kind of drunken Prince Charles impersonator), and before I can stop it, I’m laughing outright, alongside him. Both of us hunched-over cackling, wholeheartedly, probably looking more than a little mad.

Once we’ve calmed down, he starts staring at my pad again. Jesus Christ. I really wish he wouldn’t. I’m not going to show him my sketches. Not even if he begs. I’d never survive the embarrassment.

“So ... lemme’ guess. You do most of your talking in there?” He points down at my pad, and I feel the tips of my ears flood scarlet.

“Yeah. Something like that.” My voice comes out mumbled and gruff. I didn’t mean for it to. He probably thinks I did it on purpose, though.

He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured.

“I paint in my head sometimes,” I blurt. Dumb. So unbelievably dumb. “That’s why I was so quiet, I was painting.”

“Oh that’s cool. Saves paper, I suppose. Better for the trees, and that.” Stalling. He’s stalling. I’ve made it weird. I always make it weird. “So ... were you painting anything specific?”

“You.” Oh, fucking hell! I’ve ruined it - I’ve smeared on that last glob of un-erasable acrylic and ruined the painting. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t even mean to say it, it just ... popped out. And now he’s stood, gawping, eyes wide and face flushed. I’ve embarrassed him. I’ve gone and dumped all my greedy keenness on him, completely uninvited, and now he’s drowning in it.

Everything feels tight. The air, suddenly too humid to swallow. I’m gasping - Waves of breath crashing, loudly, in my ears. Panic. I’m panicking. I need to - I have to go.

So, for the second time today, I run. Spinning on my heels and darting back towards my house, without as much as a ‘Goodbye”. Away from him. Away from humiliation. Back to my room, where I pull the blinds shut and open up my pad - Briskly skipping over today’s work. A blank page. A fresh start. I really am no good at talking the normal way.

#carry on #carry on countdown #coc 2020 #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #my fic #my writing

17 notes · View notes

imaginedeux · 4 years

Text

Sixth Sense

Run, we need to get a way!

Guys run!

This isnt good, we need to get out of here and now!

LEAVE THEM ALONE!

Exploring places was something you had done since you were young, being the youngest and the only girl in your group of cousins, you wanted to show them you werent scared to explore abandoned places, or even haunted places. Your old home town was founded as an army base during the civil war and saw blood shed for the first give or take 100 years of its existence, which caused the places you and your cousins to explore to be haunted. Fast forward to present day, you no longer live in your hometown, but live in Santa Monica, California with a mundane job to pay for the overly expensive loft you were renting. You also had a small youtube channel, nothing too big, it was more of a way to record your adventures in California and a way for your parents to make sure you were okay. That is until you bumped into a very popular social media duo while they were trying to sneak into a ‘haunted’ location near where you lived. The warning you gave them, followed by a video by the duo a week later, caused them to contact you and to see if you wanted to join them for haunted location.

That was over a year ago, and now you regularly join them and TFIL for ‘haunted’ overnights. A majority of which were legit, you could feel the presence of spirits before you stepped foot on the property, while others were just people being a-holes and scaring you guys off. Thats one of the reasons why you joined the duo and TFIL for those adventures, you were able to sense a spirit near by, and were able to warn them when they went too far. This has been something you’ve been able to do since you were a kid, and wasnt an unfamiliar feeling either. That is, until Colby told you that he and Sam wanted you to join them for a haunted overnight in London, with Cory and Jake in tow as well.

With your luggage in tow and your new passport in hand, you and the guys were off to London for Sam and Colby’s new series. What they didnt tell you was, there were two locations you would be visiting, possible a third, but two for sure. The first location did a number on you and the group, the experts told you the stories associated with the room Sam and Colby and with the floor the five of you were staying on. Everything that went on during the night, and after the group went to their rooms for the night, shook the group, you especially. You weren’t one to have nightmares much less ones you could remember after waking up, but the dream you had stayed with you as you traveled to the second location.

“Hey, you okay (Y/N)? You look like you’ve been in a trance since we left the hotel.” Corey, who was sitting next to you in the backseat asked you as you looked down at your hands.

“Just thinking about what happened last night.” You murmured, your nightmare coming back to mind. “I didn’t want to freak you guys out while we were checking out, but I had a really intense nightmare that included all of us.”

“Nightmare? I thought you said you didnt have them?” Colby asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror, his eyes shifting from you to the road.

“Thats the thing I dont. I havent had one since I was a kid. It was after you came knocking at my door asking if I had called you guys, or even asking if I had left a voice mail. I fell asleep for an hour and I woke up from what felt like a never ending nightmare, I wasnt going to let myself go back to sleep so I sketched out what was happening in my dream. The only thing I could draw was the church, and its surroundings.” You explained grabbing your bag taking out a notebook you carried around with you, flipping it to the page where you drew the church. “The thing that stuck out the most was the graveyard that surrounded it, and the forest.”

~~~

“Hey (Y/N), didnt you say you had a nightmare about a church?” Jake asked from your right, shaking you awake from your short slumber.

“Y-Yeah, what about it?” You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, looking straight out the windshield. Both Sam and Colby were looking out to the left of the car, their camera recording on the dash straight at you.

“And that the church was surrounded by a graveyard?” Sam said this time, from his seat in the passenger side.

“Yeah, what of...” You started before you looked out the window to your left. “No, there’s no fucking way.”

“(Y/N) did you know what church we were going to today?” Colby asked, turning to look at you face to face. “Because that’s exactly the church you drew.”

“NO! You guys wouldn’t even tell us the name of the church! How was is supposed to know THIS was the church we were going to!?” You questioned the blue eyed brunette in the driver seat.

“I dont like this you guys.” Corey said from your left. “(Y/N) had a nightmare, a NIGHTMARE, about this place. And she apparently doesn’t even have nightmares, and she has one about this place, A PLACE SHE’S NEVER EVEN SEEN BEFORE!”

“Guys, off camera (Y/N) told us she had a nightmare, note she hasn’t had a nightmare since she was a kid, about us at a church surrounded by a graveyard last night after the phone call. She also said she drew out the church, a way to keep her awake until we had to check out this morning.” Sam explained to the viewers what was going on. “And this is what she drew, without knowing what church we were going to.” Sam grabbed the notebook from you and showed it to the camera.

“Which is the exact church we’re staying in tonight.”

~~~

“Okay, this is getting freaky. (Y/N), has called everything thats happened so far, from the crows, to the teeth on the graves. I dont think staying here is a good idea guys.” Jake said as the sun started to set over the woods at the back end of the church, giving the group less light to see over the graveyard. “She even called the fucking tombs in the church!”

“Come on Jake, shes also said by this time in her dream shit hit the fan, and we’re okay, we already have our blankets for the night, the camera is ready to record us for the rest of the night to make sure we capture everything we can. We’ll be okay.” Colby said trying to calm down the other skeptic in the group. You said nothing as Jake argued with Sam and Colby, all you wanted to do was get out of the place as fast as you could, and the only way to do that is go to sleep. Being unconscious was better than feeling on edge the entire time.

“What else did you dream (Y/N), was this in the dream too?” Corey asked taking a seat next to you, your back to the three other guys as you faced the front of the church.

“No, thats why I want to leave. With the dream I was able to pin point what not to do but now that its nothing like it, i’m scared that something might happen.” You confessed, still looking towards the front of the church, the tombs covered by darkness. “I’m not able to stop something bad from happening if something does go wrong.”

“I understand the feeling. Especially after what my little brother texted me yesterday, I feel like I cant help him if I dont know what im going up against. And its scary.” Corey whispered as the yelling behind the two of you started to quiet down.

“We’ve both had things happen since our childhood. You’ve been seeing things since your family used the Ouija board, and I’ve had the feelings since before I could remember. Believe it or not my mom once told me she could feel spirits when she was my age, and so did my grandma. They’ve both told me that they were able to feel spirits most of their lives, but they cant anymore.”

“What stopped them? Maybe you can do that and you wont be able to feel the spirits anymore!”

“I dont think it’s that simple.” You laughed. The dry laugh caught the attention of the three other guys in the church as well. “They stopped being able to feel spirits the day I was born.”

“Hey guys, I think this is a good time to head to bed.” Sam said this time, the harsh LED light illuminating dark half of the church. “The faster we get to sleep, the faster we’ll be out of here.”

~~~

Sam! Colby! Guys! Get back to the Church now! Jake, Corey, i’m going to go and get them, stay here.

You’re too late

No! No i’m not! Sam! Colby!

You cant protect them

I WILL!

The air was finally able to reach your lungs as you shot up from your make shift bunk. The cold air surrounding you caused steam to radiate of your person, and your deep exhales to create puffs of smoke in front of you. You looked around to see if your sudden movements woke anyone else up, thats when your heart dropped. Before you went to bed, Sam took the bunk closest to the door and Colby took the one to your left while Corey and Jake took the ones to your right. Both Sam and Colby’s bunks were empty.

“No, no, no, no!” You mentally yelled pulling on your shoes as fast and as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake the two other boys. As you got up, you heard one of the bunks shift and a loud gasp come from behind you.

“Did, did you shake me awake!?” Jake asked, his eyes wide. “(Y/N), did you shake me awake?!”

“No. Now quiet down.” You tried shooshing Jake. “You’ll wake Corey if you’re too loud.”

“Too late for that, what’s going on? Where’s Sam and Colby?” Corey asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Jake are you okay man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I woke up because it felt someone was shaking me awake! Then when I got up (Y/N) was getting up from her bunk.” Jake explained getting up from his bunk and flipping it over. “Where are Sam and Colby? Did they do this?”

“I dont know! When I woke up they were gone, thats when I got up and you woke up. Stay here, I’m going to look for them.” You said grabbing one of the extra flashlights.

“No! We’re not going to let you go out there on your own.” Corey said slipping on his shoes. “Whoa, wait what happened to you? You’ve soaked through your shirt.” Thats when you realized your sweater was completely soaked with sweat from the nightmare you were having before you woke up.

“My nightmare. No.” You whispered before you bolted towards the door of the church. “You guys stay here, I think somethings gonna happen, something bad. I have a big bag of salt in my backpack, use it to make a circle around the bunk area, and DONT leave it. Not for me, not for anyone okay? Unless you see us in person, dont believe your ears, okay?”

You stood at the door, the gates open behind you, leading out into the grave yard, Corey and Jake confused. “Things are going to get bad.”

“Bad? What do you mean bad? (Y/N), you can’t leave us in the dark, especially after everything thats been happening!” Jake yelled walking towards you.

“FINE!” You screamed back. This was probably the first time they heard you raise your voice in anger. “Fine! When I was younger, right when I was realizing that could feel spirits, a demon attacked one of my cousins while we were exploring one of the old hospitals in the area. My other cousins all ran away, too scared to think of a way to get the demon away from them. I stepped in and the next thing I knew it was three weeks later and I was in the hospital. I was in a coma after detaching the demon from my cousin who was in a coma as well. The thing is while I was in the coma I had a never ending nightmare.”

“What does that have to do with us!?”

“Because! I was having nightmares of this place! Thats why when I woke up today I was repeating the nightmare from all those years ago! Before tonight I had no recollection of what happened to me and my cousin, its almost as if it never happened. And because of the nightmare from yesterday and the eerie feeling from today, I was able to remember it. I texted one of my older cousins while we were out buying blankets and they said that it was true, but that the family promised not to bring it up to either of us. In my nightmare, from YEARS before I moved out to California, I had a nightmare of you four. I was trying to protect you guys, Sam and Colby. Now it’s actually happening, so I have to go and protect Sam and Colby.”

“Wait! Why do we have to stay here? If we go and look for them all together we might be able to find them faster!” Corey said this time, grabbing the camera from where Colby left it to record you all through the night.

“Because the safest place you can be is in this church. The salt circle will keep you extra protected, you coming with me will just put you in danger. Please, stay here. There’s still a couple of hours until sunrise, if we’re not back by then call the police.”

~~~

“SAM! What the hell are you doing man!” Colby yelled, finally catching up with his blonde best friend. “You cant just get up and walk out of the church and into the creepy ass woods by yourself.”

“Sorry, I have the camera as a light so its not that bad, but I kept hearing things. I wasnt sure if it was from inside the church at first, then I heard it outside.”

“What were you hearing? You could have woken one of us up. You cant be going out here by yourself.”

“SAM! COLBY!”

“Is that (Y/N)? What’s she doing up?” Colby thought pointing the flashlight he had towards the direction of your voice. As Colby was about to call out to you, the atmosphere around them grew heavy. “Whoa, did you feel that Sam?”

“Yeah-yeah, it felt like the air got heavy. I think its time for us to get back to the church Colby.” Sam said this time, the camera facing Colby, the look of fear obvious on their faces. “Wait, where’s (Y/N)? I swore I heard her voice!”

“SAM! COLBY! Jesus, there you guys are!” You yelled, running up to them from the woodwork. “We need to get back to the church now!”

“We were about to head back, but why are you soaked? What happened?” Before you could respond to Colby’s frantic questions, an unearthly screech cut you off. The three of you fell to the ground, hands covering your ears, the camera in Sam’s hand fell, the light on it flickering from the fall. “What the hell was that?!”

“We need to get back to the church now!” The crack in your voice scared the duo. For as long as they’ve known you, you’ve never been one to be scared by the spirits, but this was a different story. “Please, we need to get back to the church!”

Grabbing the camera, you pointed it at the duo in front of you, the light still flickering, but it was the only way to keep you in your line of sight. “I can’t lose sight of you guys, so please lets get back to Corey and Jake.”

“What’s going on (Y/N)? Why didnt you bring Corey and Jake with you?” Sam asked coming to a stop near the edge of the woods.

“Yeah, and did you feel that shift earlier? What was that?” Colby asking this time.

“There’s no time for questions, we need to get to safety, please!” You were pleading with them at this point. The sinking feeling in your stomach was getting worse. “Please we need to leave!”

“No! Not until you tell us whats going on!” Colby yelled at you. It didn’t phase you, it was a high stress situation and yelling in normal. Taking in a deep breath you told the duo what you told Jake and Corey back at the church. You could tell as you were reciting the story that they knew this was serious.

“So, we need to get the hell out of here and back to the church where its sa-” You started before the light on the camera Sam still had in his hand, went out.

There’s no place to run, you were smart to leave the other two in the church, but these two are mine.

“Don’t you dare get near them! I’m the one you want! I’ve beat you once before, I can beat you again!” You yelled at nothing. “Whatever you guys do, do not talk to him. You guys acknowledging him will only make it worse.”

“Right.” The pair whispered. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you grabbed onto Sam and Colby, “We need to get back to the church, follow me.”

Not so fast (Y/N), you dont think it’ll be that easy?

“Sam!” A familiar voice yelled from the darkness. “Sam please help me I’m hurt!”

“Ka-” Sam started before you let go of Colby to slam your hand on Sam’s mouth.

“It’s a trick! Don’t trust your ears, they’ll trick you.” You explained. “Same goes for you Colby, no matter who you hear, it doesn’t matter who, if you cant see them, do not trust the voices you hear.” You grabbed Colby’s jacket, pulling him and Sam back towards the church. “I’m sorry you guys.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault this is happening, you didn’t know that this thing was going to come back.”

“Yeah, if anything its our fault that we didnt listen to you, after you were predicting everything that happened.”

They’re right, they should have listened to you, just like your cousins should have listened to you when this happened all those years ago.

“We were children! You had the balls to attack children! That just shows you how weak of a demon you are! It makes you even weaker when a child was able to exercise you from a the body of another child!” You yelled into the darkness. “You thought you were powerful because of the place we were in! Your worshipers used the hospital as your portal! You were using my cousin as a scapegoat!”

You werent strong enough to get rid of me the first time. What makes you think you’ll be strong enough now?

As the demon started to laugh, the ground shaking with every cackle, the moon showed itself from behind the clouds, the graveyard lit up with the light. In the middle of all the graves was a massive being, a mix of human and a crow.

“You were always here weren’t you? You were hiding among the crows.” You said letting go of the duo. You faced this demon once before and lived, you can face him again.

“(Y/N)! Don’t!” Colby whispered as you walked towards the demon. “We need to get to the church!”

“Come on, (Y/N)!”

“No. Not anymore, if I dont get rid of him now, I’ll have to live with this asshole following me!”

Oh, I’m not planning on letting you live, (Y/N). You arent going to live to see tomorrow.

“And im not letting you go, Raum.” With that the creature, screeched at you, stepping back away from you. “I’m no priest, or exorcist but I’ve researched how to get rid of demons!”

“(Y/N) what are you doing!?” Colby ran up to you, blocking your path to the demon. “We need to get back to the church! We’ll be safe their.”

“Sam, grab Colby and haul ass towards the Church, Jake and Corey will be waiting where the bunks are in a circle of salt, that’s where you’ll be the safest. If I don’t make it back by sunrise, I’ve already told Corey and Jake to call the police. Hell maybe call a priest too.” You explained looking between the two again. “Please, im begging you.”

“Come on Colby.” Sam whispered, grabbing onto Colby’s arm pulling him towards the church. “(Y/N) can do this, we’ll only hold her back if we’re here.”

~~~

“Jake it’s been hours and they still aren’t back, and what the hell was that sound!?” Corey asked the only other person in the circle. The yelling and screeching that came from outside the church were something out of a horror movie, it didnt seem real.

“I dont know, and all the cameras cut out when the first screech happened and they havent been able to record since then. Even the cell service has been shit.” Jake groaned sitting on one of the bunks in the middle of the salt circle they drew after (Y/N) ran out the church.

“What if it doesnt come back by sun up? How are we going to get help?”

“We’ll just go to someone’s ho-” Jake started before the doors to church doors slammed open. “Sam? Colby? Is that really you?” Before they could answer Jake grabbed the nearest bottle of holy water and sprayed the duo as they walked towards the bunks.

“Really Jake? Was that necessary?” Colby asked shaking off the cold holy water.

“Sorry, had to make sure. Hey, where’s (Y/N)? And what was that sound from earlier?” Jake asked realizing the person who forced them to stay in the church wasn’t with the duo.

“(Y/N) stayed outside. Remember when she told us when she was younger how her cousin was attacked by a demon back in her hometown?” Colby asked looking between Corey and Jake as the screeching continued in the graveyard, scaring the group.

“Well apparently the thing out there is the same one from her childhood. She told us to come to the church and wait for either her or for the sun to come up. And for us not to trust our ears, that the thing out there might try to get us outside, he almost got me by sounding like Kat.” Sam explained as more screeching and roars sounded from the darkness outside. “And to add salt to the wound, I dropped the camera when the first roar happened so I wasn’t able to get any footage of the demon outside.”

“Right when the first roar happened all the cameras in here went out too. There’s still battery in all of them but they wont record. And, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LEFT HER OUT THERE?” Corey yelled at the best friends. “You’re letting her go against that thing ALONE!?”

“We had to! If we stayed there the demon would have used us against (Y/N), and she’s gone against it before and lived, shes got this in the ba-” Sam started before another roar cut him off, the lights in the church flickering as a scream joined the roar.

“COLBY, I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE!”

“Its not (Y/N)! Dont listen to it!” Sam grabbed Colby before he sprinted out the door. “You know for a fact she wouldn’t call out for us! In any of our investigations, has she ever called for us? No. Don’t listen to him!”

“COLBY HELP! PLEASE I CANT BEAT HIM!”

“COLBY YOU BETTER NOT! DONT YOU DARE LISTEN TO HIM!”

“See that’s (Y/N)!” Sam said tugging Colby back into the salt circle, “We have to trust in her.”

~~~

“It’s been two weeks since the church and we haven’t told the fans what happened, what are we going to do?” Sam asked looking up at Colby, from his seat next to (Y/N). It had been two weeks since the church incident, and they were still in the UK. The night took a turn for the worst when the sun had finally come up and (Y/N) hadn’t made it back to the church. It took almost two days to find her somewhere in the middle of the wood miles away from the church the group stayed at.

“I know they deserve answers, but our main concern is to make sure (Y/N) is alright. We already contacted her family and they’re aware, which is the most important part. Maybe us staying and Corey and Jake leaving was a bad idea.” Colby muttered, pacing around the hospital room. (Y/N) hadn’t woken up from the coma she was found in almost two weeks prior, and it was concerning the boys. (Y/N)’s parents told the boys that the last time she was in a coma like this it lasted almost a month, and that the boys shouldn’t worry about (Y/N), shes stronger than she seems. “I wish (Y/N) would give us some sort of sign that shes okay.”

“Why does it feel like its out fault? Like if we hadn’t come to London none of this would have happened? Or what if we had stayed in the church? Maybe then we would have been back in LA planning our next adventure.” Sam whispered, rubbing his face with his palms.

“Damn it!” Colby finally yelled after a few minutes of silence. “Why the fuck did this happen to (Y/N)? What if we had stayed there? Maybe it would have been one of us instead of her! Fuck!”

“Quiet down please. We’re in a hospital for fuck sake.” The whisper caught the duo off guard. It was the small smile on the patience’s face that brought them to tears as they hugged the person on the hospital bed. “Okay, I can’t breath guys.”

“Wh-what? When did you wake up? How are you feeling? Do-do you need anything?” Colby asked as Sam ran out the room going to find a doctor or nurse.

“When you guys started to blame yourselves for what happened. Raum was going to come after me one day, it just chose the church because of all the spiritual energy that we were carrying from the hotel the night before.” You, explained before a doctor, nurse, and Sam ran into the room. It was a week later that the trio was on their way back to the States, when you noticed something.

“Hey Sam, Colby.” You started as you made your way across the London airport to your gate. You stopped and looked around, something was different.

“What’s up (Y/N)? Do you feel something?” Colby asked coming up to (Y/N)

“That’s the thing, I dont feel anything.” You said looking around the airport, every place you’ve ever visited had some sort of spirit lingering around. Good or evil you were able to feel them almost 80% of the time.

“What do you mean you don’t feel anything?” Sam asked the camera in his hand pointing at you and Colby. The three of you had agreed to release what footage you had onto their Youtube channel since you felt like their fans needed some sort of explanation. They just needed to film the last bits of them leaving London before they would do a sit down segment back in LA explaining what had happened at the church.

“I dont feel any spiritual presence, like any. It wouldn’t have bothered me but I had felt a presence when we first landed here. Now there’s nothing.” You said looking back at Sam and Colby. “Maybe me winning cost me my ability to feel spirits.” That statement became even more true when you landed back in LA and did a quick visit to places you knew were haunted, you couldn’t feel anything in any of the locations.

“Hey, maybe its a good thing? I mean people who have some sort of power are usually targeted by demons or evil spirits.” Sam said as the three of you walked up to the first place the three of you met.

“If it keeps you safe, maybe its a good thing that you lost your ability.” Colby said this time.

“But now I feel like I wont be able to protect you guys.” You said looking back at the best friends, tears welling up in her eyes.

“But, we’ll be able to protect you. When you would tell us to back off during an overnight we started to notice how certain things would happen around the time you would speak up. We’re able to tell if somethings going to happen because of all the times you brought it to our attention that something was wrong.” Colby said walking up to you, giving you a small smile. “Anything to protect you even if you dont have your sixth sense.”

#sam and colby fanfic #sam golbach #colby brock #sam golbach fanfic #colby brock fanfic #sam and colby AU #sam golbach AU #colby brock AU

54 notes · View notes

shamefullymadethis · 4 years

Text

The Mess You Made

Part 1/?

Todoroki x Reader

Art College AU

Word Count: 1671

Summary: Y/n has had their life under wraps at all times. They give little room for things to mess up what they’ve built when they have the control over it. So what happens when the new student, Shoto, indirectly starts to unravel the carefully crafted life Y/n has built for themself?

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

If you guys wanna see more parts of this lmk and I’ll continue it. This has just been on my mind recently. (Update! I’ve decided to add another chapter. Check it out if you’d like! I’ll continue to post chapters if you are all interested :) )

Next Part

Good day sunshine

You hear a familiar tune play off your phone laying on the dresser beside your bed. You slowly open your eyes and grab your phone letting the song play out, but turning it down. The time reads 7:30am, you groan and roll out of bed. You connect your headphones to your phone and place it in your pocket as you get ready for your 8:30 painting class. As you get up you see your other 2 roommates quietly sleeping. You stretch, put on some clothes, and head to the kitchen. On the counter there’s a plate of cinnamon buns wrapped with plastic. Judging by the crumbs, one has already been taken. A note beside it reads: I made these last night! Feel free to take some -Ochaco. You smile as you grab one, wrapping it in a napkin, then placing it in the pocket of your portfolio. You head to the door and grab your keys, as you open the door you hear your one of your roommates alarms go off.

This is a normal morning for you. Everything is always perfectly timed and plays out the same each morning. You take comfort in the routine you have made for yourself. You head to the elevator and go through your playlist deciding on what best fit your mood for today. As the music starts to pick up, the elevator doors open and you wave to the guard at the front desk of your building. She gives you a tired smile and quietly says, “Have a good day, y/n.” You nod your head as you go to open the door, allowing the next guard to come in and relieve the current one from duty. You give a polite nod as they walk in and thank you. You walk down the street and around the corner, and everything couldn’t have gone more smoothly. You normally left for class 30 minutes before it started. With that time you are able open the door for the guard, go to your favorite cafe, grab some coffee and draw some of the regulars, then head to class given that it’s right next to the cafe.

Looking at yourself now versus who you were before you came to college, you wouldn’t even recognize who you were before. Most things had been out of your hand, and you hardly had control over the things that happened to you. But since getting to college you started to have more of a grip on the things around you. You have become a master of your own life, to a fault. You have carefully constructed the path you are on right now, down to every minute and breath. With that, it is a very delicate balance. But you have made sure to keep a guard up at all times, so as to not disturb the plans you have made for yourself. You are well known within your school and have many “friends,” because they admire how put together you seem. But there are only a few people who you actually trust within your life or plot. It is important to you that you maintain this distance with most people, as people tend to make things messy. You are happy with the neat life you have constructed, and it will stay that way as long as you have control over that.

You head to the coffee shop beside the building your class is in, and right on que you hear the owner call out to you as the small bell rings signaling your entrance.

“Y/n! Good morning, the usual I presume,” he asks while he already starts pouring syrups into a cup.

“You know it, thank you!” You reply as you stride up to the counter. You place a five dollar bill on the counter, and another barista, who you know as Mr. Sasaki, comes to put it in the register and hands you change. You take the change and place it in the tip jar. You make idle conversation with the owner and Mr. Sasaki. The owner’s name is Mr. Yagi, he is small in stature and one of the kindest people you know in this city. He spends time outside of work doing volunteer work and creating safe spaces for people. As Mr.Yagi hands you the cup he gives you his signature smile, and takes the next customer. You take a seat by the window and watch as people walk by. Your college is an open campus, so your school’s buildings blend in with the city around it. When you look outside you see every type of person from tourists, other students, and people heading to work. You grab a small sketchbook and pen from your bag and sketch out some of the passerby’s. As you do these gesture drawings, you notice another student with a portfolio headed towards the building your class is in. You don’t recognize this student, which would normally not bother you, but this person sticks out like a sore thumb. You freeze for a moment as you feel your brain trying to slow down time to study this stranger. His hair is dyed half white and half red, he was well dressed, and for a moment you thought you caught sight of blue eyes. You sit there for a moment, engraving this person’s face into your memory. You quickly turn to your sketchbook and sketch out what you could remember. You check the time, and jump out of your seat as you read the clock: 8:25am.

“Shit,” you hiss quietly.

You throw your sketchbook back into your bag, drink the rest of the lukewarm coffee, and bolt out the door giving a brief goodbye to Mr. Yagi and Mr. Sasaki. You grab your school ID from your pocket and flash it to the guard quickly as you enter the building. You walk down the hall to wait for the elevator. There are a few students, some which you recognize from your class, and of course the stranger who had distracted you in the cafe. You know that you shouldn’t blame him for your faulty timing, but a small part of you feels misguided resentment towards him. As the elevator stops on the floor you pile in with the other students. You reach to press the button for your floor, but at the same time the boy with half-and-half hair reaches for it as well. As he presses the button, you find yourself drawing your hand back a bit too late and accidentally brushing against his hand. You quickly turn your head to him and find yourself locked in eye contact with him as you both say apologize. Looking at him up close you could confirm that he has blue eyes. Eyes that are so startlingly blue that you almost feel cold. You find yourself getting lost for a moment, and then realize that you have spent an odd amount of time watching each other. So you quickly break eye contact and watch the numbers on the elevator climb.

Once it reaches your floor you excuse yourself through the people and realize that the blue-eyed person you had shared a brief moment with has also exited the elevator. Logically that makes sense given that you were both going to press the same floor, but you still found yourself feeling a bit more stiff than usual as you process to your class with him close behind. You get to the door and as you open it you realize that he is entering with you. Your classmates are all chatting and you see your friend Mina from across the room. She excitedly waves at you, “Y/N GOOD MOOORNING!” You smile and walk over to her, feeling the tension in your shoulders relax a bit. As you settle down at the table next to her you see the stranger stand idly at the front of the classroom, almost looking a bit lost. A few moments later your professor, Mr. Aizawa enters the room looking tired as ever. He stands at the podium placing a bag down on a table by the podium which immediately grabs the attention of the room.

“Settle down everyone, we have a new student today. Would you like to introduce yourself,” he asks while looking at the boy standing by the door.

The boy nods, “My name is Shouto, I just transferred here.”

“What’s your major,” Mr. Aizawa inquires.

“I’m a painting major,” Shouto replies shortly.

Mr. Aizawa nods in acknowledgement, and points to the empty desk next to you.

“That desk is open next to y/n, feel free to set up there.”

Without meaning to you held your breath as he walked towards the desk next to you. He quietly places his things down and starts to set up brushes, paint tubes, and charcoal on his desk. He looks over to you which then makes you realize that you’ve been staring this whole time. You look up quickly to try and play it off, but from an outsiders’ point of view it would have been obvious that you were staring. Your gaze moves to your other side to look at Mina. She raises an eyebrow in confusion, then gestures for you to take a breath by raising her hands near her chest and then lowering them while exhaling. As you finally breathe out Mr.Aizawa starts to explain the new assignment.

For just a second, you felt your perfectly crafted life start to crack. You decide to brush it off, thinking that it’s nothing but a bothersome thought. You never thought of a plan for what to do if it should fall apart, and you don’t feel like that is something to worry about as of right now.

#shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #themessyoumade #the mess you made

27 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Embers - Male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Five! (sfw)

So... this was supposed to go up on Friday but no one reminded me and I’m clearly not able to set a weekly reminder like an actual adult.

Hope you’re still enjoying this weekly series... Don’t forget to show me it some love if you are.

And I seem to have thrown my 'short chapters/800 words only' thing out of the window. This one is the longest so far, at 2455 words long. *rolls eyes at self*.

One, Two, Three, Four

An entire week passed without word from Mikaeïl. You had almost given up on the whole commission for this departmental murder mystery dinner, when one lunchtime your phone buzzed and you answered with barely a glance away from what you were doing. With a searingly important deadline looming for work, your stress levels were possibly at their highest since university finals, and you had been staring at the computer screen for what felt like days without a break.

“Yeah?” you barked, still tweaking the design while holding the phone with your other hand.

“It’s Mikaeïl,” came a surprisingly shy, male voice at the other end. “Is now a bad time?”

Your heart skipped a beat or two and you grinned despite the lingering frustration that the design wasn’t looking anywhere near ‘there’ yet. “No, not at all,” you smiled, “I’m at work, but I’d much rather talk to you.”

That seemed to fluster him a little, but he cleared his throat and said, “Well… I spoke with the department and showed them your preliminary design. They loved it and are very happy to commission you to do the posters for the event.”

“Fantastic!” you grinned, genuinely thrilled to have a more exiting project to work on than this steaming pile of minotaur shit currently sitting on your computer.

“I thought we might discuss it in more detail when you bring Celia over on Friday...” he said, his softly-articulated words doing odd things to your insides and heartbeat. You could imagine him standing amongst his hoard of plants, one arm folded protectively across his slim chest as he stood, ramrod straight, surveying the gardens beyond.

A second after that image had flashed through your mind, you realised that it wasn’t your turn to being Celia to her flute lesson that week. When you said as much, he sighed and said, “Never mind.”

“I mean... Celia doesn’t have to be my only reason to come over and see you, does she?” you asked playfully, doodling with the stylus on a new layer of the design. As you listened to him speak, his eyes began to stare out at you from the screen as you drew them, all distant and guarded, but glittering and somehow soft all the same.

“No,” he said slowly, the slight smile audible in his rich voice. “No, of course not. I’m rather busy with work this week, and I’m presenting a paper at a conference on Thursday, but if you’re alright to meet up in town instead during the week we could do that?”

“Stickybeaks?” you suggested, thinking of the cafe where you’d first met him.

He clearly along the same lines because he gave that sonorous chuckle that made your stomach churn pleasurably. “Perfect. What day suits you? I’m free most days after five, except this Thursday.”

“Friday?” you suggested. “I think Stickybeaks stays open til seven. We could have an early supper? That way you can tell me all about the conference too, if you like.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” he said reflexively.

“Oh, I think you’d have to work quite hard to bore me. I’m really quite a curious person...”

There was something melancholic about the tone of his clipped response. “If you say so,” was all he said. “Well, Friday works well for me. Shall I meet you there at half past five? That will give me enough time to walk over from the department.”

“Perfect. Looking forward to it.”

A beat too late, he said with a slight crack in his voice, “So am I.”

You rushed out of work that Friday and ended up getting to the cafe way too early, so you got out your A3 sketch pad and started to draw a number of variations on the same theme that you’d doodled back at Mikaeïl’s house. When he stepped through the doorway at precisely 5.29pm, Mikaeïl glanced around, the lenses of his round glasses glinting in the low light, and when he saw you, the hard line of his tense shoulders eased just a little.

Mikaeïl nodded politely at Lidaë, who was fluttering around behind the counter as usual despite the fact that there weren’t all that many customers in at that time, and then he strode over to your place in the back corner. The pathway through the sleek, modern tables gave you the opportunity to admire the slender form of his body and the effortless grace with which he moved, almost like a dancer. Today he wore a butterscotch coloured trench coat, belted tightly at his slim waist over black skinny jeans, and his autumn-red hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail again, with the shorter sections at the front falling down to mask the full intensity of his bright golden eyes.

“Hey,” you said, half standing.

“I hope you haven’t been here long,” he said by way of a greeting and staring at your drawings again with that odd expression again.

“No, not really,” you said, awkwardly sitting back down again. “I finished work a bit earlier than usual and came straight here. I roughed out a few more designs for the poster anyway.”

“You’ve been here long enough to have finished your drink,” he said pointedly. “Can I get you another?”

You eyed your empty cup and then glanced at your watch. “I just turned in a major project that’s been bugging me for weeks,” you grinned. “I think I earned a grown up drink…”

He cocked his head slightly and the corner of his pretty mouth twitched ever so slightly to show his amusement. “Congratulations. And I think I might join you in that.”

By the time he returned, you’d shunted the sketch book to one side and once he’d set your drink down, he took his coat off to hang it on the back of his chair. It was a real effort not to stare at the beauty of his figure. Perhaps it was the artist in you, but you really noticed the strong, straight lines of his waist and thighs, his body clearly tightly corded with extremely lean muscle, and the elegant movements of his fingers as he worked the buttons of his coat.

When he was finished, he sat and shyly drew his ponytail over one shoulder, twisting the end of it between his fingertips and blinked softly at you. “What?” he asked in a breathy murmur.

“I… Uh…” you blushed, and settled on a bashful, “Nothing. Have you come straight from teaching?”

He nodded.

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “Your students must love you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he said bluntly.

“I wasn’t,” you said, feeling a heat creeping up your neck. Did he seriously not have any idea how attractive he was? “Don’t take this the wrong way then,” you said, sipping your drink and letting the warmth of the alcohol ignite a little courage in you, “But if you were my professor, I’m not sure I’d get much learning done…”

“Then I’d be failing in my duties as a teacher…”

Damn but he was hard work.

“Never mind,” you said. “How did the conference go?”

“Very well, to my surprise,” he said, holding the stem of his wine glass as if it were a rare specimen rose. He inhaled the scent of the wine before drinking, and closed his eyes briefly as he savoured it. His throat worked and you watched his sharp Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and that newly-kindled heat in your cheeks flared a little hotter while blood rushed south away from your brain to somewhere a little less articulate.

“What was your paper on?” you managed to rasp.

He cleared his throat and swirled his wine absentmindedly around his glass. “It’s… hardly a dinner time conversation,” he said.

“What, because you study bodies and death?”

His golden gaze flicked up to meet yours. “Most people find it repulsive.”

“You’re searching for answers,” you said. “I’m sure you’re respectful about the way you treat the remains. What’s repulsive about that?”

Mikaeïl blinked, and then his hard, wary expression flickered to something a little gentler, bordering on relief. “Well, alright. I was presenting my preliminary findings on the use of MRI and CT scans to determine the presence of necromantic activity in long-dead remains…”

“That stuff shows up? Even centuries later?” you asked, instantly intrigued.

He made a side to side shake of his head. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. X-ray has been used in the past, but because any damage caused post-mortem usually presents exactly the same whether the person in question was truly alive or undead, it’s not always particularly accurate… I want to explore the use of other technology to explore the effects that necromantic magic in particular has on the body after the heart has ceased beating.”

“That’s awesome,” you breathed, and he smiled again. “Was it well received?” you asked tentatively.

“Yes, for the most part. Non-invasive examination is always preferable, so there was a deal of interest from others in the field. I even had a lich in the audience who was willing to undergo some testing, which was encouraging.”

“Did you study medicine at the university here?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Quite some while ago though,” he said. “I worked as a medical examiner for a long time.”

You frowned, and he read your next question in your eyes.

“I’m not as youthful as I look,” he said. “My kind is long lived. And before you ask, I’m just over two hundred and sixty.”

“Whoa…” Honestly, it wasn’t actually that much of a surprise, given how… ‘remote’ he seemed at times. A moment later you added with a wry smile, “You must have enjoyed watching the leaps and bounds that science has made then in the last hundred or so years! I’d love to witness something like that…”

“That’s…” he faltered into silence.

“What?”

Mikaeïl steepled his long, fingers and rested his lips against his index and middle fingertips, elbows resting on the table. “That’s… honestly not a reaction I’ve had before.”

“I don’t understand?”

With a dry chuckle, he said, “Most people - though the number is admittedly few - discover I’m old enough to be their ancestor, and they start to act strangely. Friendships have been hard to initiate, and even tougher to maintain, though I’m sure that’s partly due to my own…” he swallowed, apparently unsure of the word before settling on, “‘Quirks’.”

You shrugged. “It sucks, I’m sure, but anyone who doesn’t at least try to understand or get to know you is missing out, and probably isn’t worth the effort anyway, at least in my limited experience. Can I ask you another question though?”

As his lips hitched up on one side, he nodded. “Of course.” And with that, he seemed to relax a little more in your presence.

“Is it super rude of me to ask what you are? I had thought you were at least part tiefling, but that was literally just from the horns and the eyes.”

“A common misconception,” he said over the rim of his wineglass before he took another sip. “And one I usually let slide. But no, I am not any part tiefling. I am… my family is… that is to say…” He set his wine down, took off his glasses, and cleaned them with a little cloth that he drew from his top pocket while he said quietly, “We are dragon shifters. Wyvern, technically.”

You blinked in silence for a stunned moment. Dragon shifters were exceptionally rare these days, having been hunted ruthlessly for sport, mostly by orcs but also by humans, about five hundred years ago. They’d been massacred in droves almost to the point of extinction. “No way,” you finally breathed.

He acknowledged the truth with a brief pursing of his lips, and returned his glasses to his face. Tersely, he added, “Please don’t ask me to prove it here. I won’t fit into this corner of the cafe, and besides, shifting is a huge inconvenience to say the very least.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said hastily. “I’m just… amazed? Surprised? Honoured?”

Mikaeïl deftly and promptly steered the conversation onto your drawings and drafts after that, and you allowed him to slide the limelight onto you. Clearly an intensely private individual, Mikaeïl had just honoured you with the truth about himself, and, curious as you were about what he might look like in his wyvern form, you respected his gift by focusing on the real reason you were there. This was not a date after all, no matter how much you wished it were.

Despite that fact, however, it was five minutes before closing time when Lidaë flitted over to you, her iridescent hummingbird’s plumage shimmering, and politely asked if you’d mind wrapping up so she could close up her cafe.

Mikaeïl startled from your conversation as if he’d suffered an electric shock. “I’m so sorry, Lidaë,” he said, standing abruptly and pushing his chair back with a decidedly ungraceful scrape on the wooden floorboards. “I had no idea it was so late.”

She patted his arm fondly and shook her head. “Never you mind, my lovely. I’m glad to see you having such a good evening.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his pale cheeks flushed and he glanced briefly at you before fumbling to pick up his coat. Once he’d slid it on, he fished out his wallet and insisted that he pay for everything.

Outside, with your bag packed and a design finalised, you looked up at him and he turned his deep, golden eyes on you. In the light from the street lamps overhead, his yellow eyes reflected the soft glow in a decidedly inhuman way, and you felt something stirring inside you again.

Feeling perhaps a little uncharacteristically bold, you reached for his shoulders, took them gently in your hands, and leaned in to kiss his smooth, cool cheek. As you withdrew, you saw that he’d gone rigid, his eyes wide with surprise. Allowing yourself a small giggle at his expense, you grinned at him.

“I’ll bring the finished design with me when I bring Celia over next Friday, if that’s ok.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed softly.

“Looking forward to it,” you said. “And thank you again for supper.”

“My pleasure,” he croaked, bowing his head. “Sincerely.”

Tossing a final grin and a wave his way, you walked off down the street, leaving him standing there, and when you glanced back, you saw that he was walking away in the opposite direction, his fingertips just brushing his cheek where your lips had kissed his skin.

To be continued next Friday! (don’t let me forget!)

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier or higher!

#exophilia #dragon shifter #dragon #dragon x reader #dragon shifter x reader #weekly story #weekly series

313 notes · View notes