#even though my pen ran out of battery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheapshrimpysheep · 3 months

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For the request thing, might be dark but holing it's more angst/scary -> Fluff. NRC First years (or any boy you wanna write about) get a phone call from Fem!reader in the night, they think they hear someone breaking into Ramshackle and are scared, the boys' rush in to rescue/protect reader. (Up to you if there is actually someone breaking in or its just old house noises/Grim or ghosts rummaging around etc) thank you for your lovely work thus far!

COMMENTS: Hi! Thank you. 😊 First I just wanted to say that the way I wrote it doesn't make any difference if it's a Fem Reader, so I did it for a GN Reader like I always do. I also apologize that Ace and Deuce's parts are the shortest, it just happened. 😔

More recently I also have less time to write, which is why this one took so long to finish. But I hope you and all like it.❤️

BTW: I used Bard to help me with Epel's dialect. 😜

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola; Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Epel Felmier; Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 490 words per character.

CONTEXT: You had stayed in the bedroom while Grim went downstairs to do something. Probably for a snack. But then you hear him shouting your name as if asking for help.

Knowing that without magic you could be in even more danger than Grim, you pick up your cell phone and call the first contact that appears.

“What's your deal calling so late, hum?” Ace says when he answers you. “It can be off with my head for this, you know?” You explain to him what happened. “Ah, so you called me to come and protect you, is that it?” he says smugly. “You're probably just exaggerating. Maybe Grim is asking for help because he realized he already ate all the-” he noticed that the call was suddenly cut. “Oi, Prefect?... (Y/N)?... (Y/N)?!”

Ace ran out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. Even though he knew he would have problems when he returned.

When he arrived at Ramshackle Dorm, he cautiously approached the door, trying to listen for something to know what state things were in and what situation you were in. But he can't hear anything.

Until you scream! He tries to open the door but it is locked. So he decides to break it in with magic, and runs to the lounge where you were.

“(Y/N)!” He runs to the lounge instinctively, automatically pointing his magic pen at whoever is there with you. Grim and the ghosts scream at being surprised by Ace and he realizes it's just you and them in the dorm.

“Wha- What is going on?!” He asks “You called me because you thought someone was breaking into the dorm. And I come running here to find out that nothing happened?”

You tell Ace that technically you never talked about someone breaking into the dorm, and that after all he was right and Grim was melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“So what was that about the call hanging up while we were talking?” Your cell phone has run out of battery. “And the scream just now?” The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you.

Ace was upset, probably as much as you were.

“Serious? All this rush for nothing. How am I going to explain this to the housewarden? I'm going to lose my head at this hour.” He looks at you with that sly smile. “You know, this is your fault. I came running here because you hinted that you were in danger. I think I deserve compensation. What if you let me sleep here tonight?

“If you get in charge of fixing the door that you just broke into.” Grim says.

“I did it because I thought it was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah? We can always settle this in Heartslabyul's court.”

“Fine, fine, I'll fix the door.” He looks at you “Can I sleep here tonight then?”

“Hi (Y/N). It's really late for you to be calling, is something wrong?” You explain to Deuce what happened. “Don't leave your room! Stay safe there, I'm on my way!” He hangs up the call and runs out of Heartslabyul without passing anyone who could stop him. He doesn't think twice because you wouldn't be the type to play a prank like that on him. Right?

When Deuce arrives at Ramshackle, he calls your cell phone. But you don't answer. Which worries him even more. He runs to the front door and tries to open it. Obviously it was locked. So he breaks it open with a mix of brute force and magic... or maybe a cauldron.

“(Y/N)! GRIM!” He calls.

“DEUCE?!” He hears the incredulous voice of you and Grim in unison. They were coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

“Are you guys okay? What happened?”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“Oh... That's a relief, I think. But why didn't you answer me then? I called you before I came in.” Your cell phone had run out of battery. He sighs and smiles at you. “Well, I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding and that you're okay.” All of his priorities at that moment were knowing that you were safe, so much so that it didn't even occur to him to ask any more questions.

You hear the door that Deuce had just broken down creaking in the wind. “I am so sorry!” he says “I can fix the door, don't worry.”

But the wind starts to get stronger, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite him to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm that night.

“Are you sure?” He asks, as if he also said he didn't want to bother. It's the least you can do for him. And you will talk to Riddle to explain what happened and stop him from cutting off Deuce's head.

“Thank you so much (Y/N).” He smiles at you. “I promise I'll fix the door tomorrow.”

“Hello (Y/N). Is something wrong?” Jack knew that for you to be calling at that time there was little chance of it being for a simple conversation. You explain to him what happened. “Did you hear any other strange noises?” You say there was absolutely nothing else, which also worries you. And at that moment you start to hear the wood on the floor creak as if someone was climbing the stairs. “Stay safe in your room! I’m on my way!”

The thing is that when you called him, he was already getting ready for bed. So he quickly changed his clothes with the help of magic and ran out of Savanaclaw right to Ramshackle Dorm. Making sure not to wake up any of the Savanaclaw students who might already be asleep, especially Leona.

When he arrives, he uses his signature spell to transform into a wolf and sniff the outside of the dorm to try to notice if there was any different smell, from someone other than you and Grim perhaps. But he doesn't notice anything strange in the air. Which meant that either there was nothing strange going on or whoever showed up was really good at hiding their tracks.

He approaches the front door and tries to listen inside. And that's when he hears you scream. He wastes no more time, breaks down the door in his wolf form and follows the trail of your scent to you. Upstairs. In your bedroom.

As soon as a huge white wolf appears at the door of your bedroom, Grim and the ghosts are the ones who scream this time. No one else was there with you. Jack returns to his beastman form.

“What happened? Did someone break into the dorm? Have they already run away?” He still had his defensive and ready to attack posture.

You apologize to him and explain that Grim's cry for help was nothing more than him being melodramatic when he discovered he was out of snacks.

“So who was coming up the stairs when you called me?”

After Grimm screams, the ghosts appear and they thought it was an excellent opportunity to scare you. They had just jump-scared you before Jack showed up. Up until then they had been making strange noises to build the suspense.

“And did you find that funny?!” Jack shouts at them. “This could have been an emergency! You shouldn't joke about something like that!” He starts to calm down as the ghosts apologize and Grim says it wasn't out of spite. And he remembers one thing. He puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it. “Oh, um... I... I ended up breaking down your door to get in. I'm sorry. I'll fix it.”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Jack to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. It's the least you can do for getting him into all that mess.

“Well, that would be very helpful. Especially because I don't want to risk waking up anyone in my dorm when I get back. But... are you sure?” You could see his tail starting to wag a little.

“Good evening (Y/N).” Epel greets you “Is everything alright?” You explain to him what happened. “Hmm?! M-Maybe it's nothing serious. D-Do you have any way of knowing what happened safely? You know, without you being noticed if someone is there I mean?”

You say you'll try and Epel hears you walking and leaving the door of your bedroom but then he stops hearing anything.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?... (Y/N)?!” He looks at his cell phone and sees that the call has disconnected. “Land sakes alive, what have I done now? I gotta get on over there right this minute!” AKA: "AH! What have I done? I have to go there! NOW!"

He changes his clothes as quickly as possible with the help of magic and runs out of Pomefiore. Praying that no one spots him and stops him. The part about someone stopping him didn't happen, now the part about being seen or noticed could be another story.

When he arrives at Ramshackle Dorm he tries to call you again, but it seems like your cell phone is turned off. He prepares his magic pen and thinks about breaking the door with magic. But then he realizes that he can make your situation worse, since he doesn't know what's happening inside.

Until he hears you scream and then he forgets all his pacifist options and breaks down the door as his instinct was telling him to do.

“(Y/N)?!” he calls for you.

“EPEL?!” He hears your incredulous voice. It was coming from the lounge, so he runs there. To find you, Grim and the ghosts safe and sound.

"What in tarnation happened? Y'all alright?"

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on.

“You're pulling my leg, ain't you? All this hullabaloo over a little snack?” You, Grim and the ghosts look at him confused. He clears his throat. “I mean, all this fuss for a late night snack?” He looks at Grim in annoyance. “Wait!” He looks at you. “What about your cell phone? The call dropped and I couldn't call you anymore.”

You explain that you ran out of battery on it.

“And your scream just now?”

The ghosts had decided to take advantage of the situation to prank on you. He looks at the ghosts with the same look of annoyance that he looked at Grim. Epel takes a deep breath and sighs. You all heard the wind making the now broken door creak.

“Ah! The door!” He realizes. “I’m so sorry. I break it to get in. I can fix it, I promise. I can make it as good as new. I can make it look like new. Since you'll probably need a new one anyway. I´m sorry... again.”

After all that, at a time like that, and thinking about the problems he will have when he returns, you invite Epel to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And you say that you will explain everything to Vil, especially the fact that Epel did that because he thought you were in danger.

“R-Really?! Um, but are you sure it's okay for me to sleep here tonight?”

“HUMAN!” Sebek shout at your ear. “What is your business calling me at an unacceptable hour like this?” You explain to him what happened. “Don't be ridiculous! I'm sure nothing serious could be happening.” You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching your bedroom. You tell him this. “Are you saying those footsteps sound like a human and not Grim?” The call hangs up. “Human?... (Y/N)! I DEMAND THAT YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW IF YOU ARE LISTENING TO ME!” But he doesn't hear anything else.

Under normal circumstances he would notify Lilia and ask for permission to leave Diasomnia at an hour like that. But he was also trained to act in emergencies and this was one of those times. He cannot waste any time and must leave immediately for Ramshackle Dorm.

Despite his temperament, he was trained to know how to act in these types of situations. He must first analyze what is happening and only then create a plan. Otherwise he takes the risk of making things even worse and in the worst case scenario, your life will end because of his irresponsibility. He approaches the door and listens. Things were calm, too calm. Until he hears you scream!

He immediately breaks down the door with just his strength and takes out his magic pen. He hears movement upstairs. In your room. He runs there and when he arrives, his warning shout gives a heart-stopping scare to everyone there with you. Which is just Grim and the ghosts.

“WHAT HAPPENED? I REQUEST A REPORT IMMEDIATELY!”

You explain to him that after all, Grim was just melodramatically asking for help because he had nothing to snack on. And then he and the ghosts decided to take advantage of the situation to play a trick on you.

“Was that why you screamed before I came in?” He asks. You confirm. “What about your cell phone? The call ended after you told me you heard someone coming up the stairs.” Your cell phone ran out of battery.

“HOW CAN YOU BE SO CARELESS? You should always have your greatest means of communication ready for an emergency!” He then looks at Grim. “AND YOU! You should redefine your priorities! Asking for help over a snack is unacceptable!” Before Grim can complain, he finally looks at the ghosts, but still referring to Grim as well. “And what you did, from what I know, humans call it a prank. I always found them unnecessary and ridiculous. And look how right I am! UNACCEPTABLE TO BE USED IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS!”

Grim starts arguing with Sebek until the ghosts say he's right. That was a mean joke at a bad time and they apologize to both you and Sebek. Which brings a smug to his face.

You hear a creak, the wind passing through the broken door.

“Do you see where your joke took you? You made me break down the door thinking it was a rescue.”

“You broke her because you wanted to!” Grim responds. “We didn't force you into anything!”

Sebek sighs, annoyed. “Very well, I'll find a way to fix the door. BUT MAY THIS BE THE LAST TIME YOU TRICK (Y/N) TO THE POINT OF CALLING ME TO COME HERE!”

After all that and at a time like that, you invite Sebek to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm.

“Don't worry.” He says “There will be no such need. Just as I came here, I can easily return without any problems.” But if you say that you feel bad about making him go to Ramshackle Dorm for nothing and that it is the least you can do for the inconvenience, he might reconsider. “Oh, I see. You're still scared, are you not? Very well, I can keep you company tonight.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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iraprince · 1 year

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i've been wanting to get into digital art for a while, and I'm thinking of getting myself a tablet for this christmas. Any product recommendations?

i would say, particularly for a first tablet, i don't recommend a wacom, even though it's what i use currently (and what i'll probably get again if/when i eventually upgrade to a screen tablet). this is because, while the quality is great, they're very pricey in a way that isn't proportionate compared to other brands. it was one thing a decade ago when wacoms were often much better than other options, but now other brands have caught up and there's no reason to shell out that much extra unless there's a reason u need a wacom specifically. (i.e. i got my current wacom tablet as a gift years ago, but i would spring for wacom as a screen tablet bc i've done a lot of research on cintiqs vs other options and i think for my job i do need the extra oomph in terms of stuff like screen resolution/latency/parallax — not because a more expensive tablet/better performance will make me "draw better" but bc i spend so many hours drawing per week that better performance will reduce friction and make my job easier. if you're not concerned about "this device is about to be a massive part of my life so it had BETTER be the best machinery i can afford," i don't think the extra expense is worth it.)

also, specifically, the wacom intuos 4 pro is a piece of steaming fucking garbage from hell and its cord port WILL eventually die for no reason, and wacom support will not help you because how do you prove it died for no reason even though dozens of other ppl online have clearly experienced the exact same hardware failure, and then you will have to buy an external universal camera battery charger and remove the fucking tablet battery and charge it once every other day at an outlet BECAUSE YOU CAN'T CHARGE IT WITH THE CORD ANYMORE and only use the thing wirelessly. not that i know anything about that

so!!! with that said. my very first tablet was a tiny wacom bamboo (idk if they even make those anymore?), and after that when i had to replace it i got a monoprice. that was a long time ago so i can't vouch for current quality — pls look up recent reviews and do research on anything u pick — but my exp w monoprice was that it was crazy cheap and perfectly good quality. setting up the drivers was a complete nightmare, but once it was working it ran like a dream without any problems and i don't remember ever having to fuss repeatedly with driver resets, reinstalling shit, losing pen pressure, etc (all problems i have had with wacoms, and still do occasionally). that thing took me through several years of art school and then several more years after without an issue and only gave out when the actual hardware was starting to go from wear and tear, i.e. wires were getting loose and it had been dropped a few times.

those are the only ones i have personal experience with, but i've heard very good things about huion tablets, and they seem like a good middle ground of higher quality than monoprice vs cheaper than wacom.

general tips: get the biggest one you can afford, you'll be using it for a long time anyway and the very small ones are hell on your wrist. consider getting one with shortcut buttons; if you end up liking them you'll use them all the time, but if you don't (i never personally got into using mine!) they don't get in the way, so it's no harm. and when you get your tablet, find the pressure settings (there will almost definitely be a menu that comes w your tablet software, but also check your drawing program as well) and adjust the pressure sensitivity so you don't have to press down super hard!! this will save ur wrist.

#resources

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bluebird-practices-drawing · 1 year

Text

fill in the gaps

She first crosses path with him when she's running to her music theory class, trying with one hand to wrangle her books into her bag and with the other to keep her hat from flying right off her head. Koala looks down for one second to shove Music Theory and Composition: A Guide in as deep as it will go, and the crunch of an old granola bar wrapper is all she hears before she runs headlong into something warm, heavy, and which makes a shocked Oomf as they go crashing.

Shit, Koala thinks and her hands fly out to steady herself, anticipating the shock of hard concrete on her gloved palms, but all she manages to do is trip them up and she falls hard onto the sidewalk. Her side twinges in pain and Koala curses as her books and hat go flying, the wind gleefully picking up the covers and throwing them open to pages of text and notes.

"Shit!" she swears, out loud this time, and scrambles to pick everything up, shoving her hat into its rightful place and stashing her books away as fast as she can. "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to slam into you - "

In her haste, she fumbles with one of her binders and it slips loose from her grasp, only to be caught by a hand that isn't hers and handed back. Looking up, she realizes that accompanying the offered binder is a smile, and warm dark eyes, and a face framed by wavy locks of blond hair.

"It's alright," her accidental victim says with a small laugh, too cheerful for 7:56 on a Tuesday morning, when the sun is barely even up. "You're a music major , huh?"

"Yeah," Koala manages, wondering if she's winded from the crash or from the way he laughs, boyishly charming. "I am. Thanks."

Before she can make a fool of herself, she grabs her binder and pushes it into her bag. "Sorry for crashing into you again - I should have been watching where I was going - "

"Hey, no, it's fine!" he says. "Running late, huh?"

Oh, she really has to get going now. "Yeah," Koala says, starting to walk in the direction of her building, trying not to be rude with the speed of her pace. "My alarm ran out of battery and I forgot to put new ones in, so - "

"Ah, you don't have to worry," he laughs. "What's your first class? Anything except music history and you'll be just fine, the professors are all really laid-back."

"Music theory," she says. He's easily keeping up with her, despite the fact that she's halfway to jogging and considering a full-on sprint. Then again, he's a good bit taller than she is. "You?"

"I don't have a class this early, so I'm really just out wandering," he says, and the sheepish way he rubs at the back of his head makes her laugh despite herself. The moths in her stomach settle down a little. "It's cool that you're studying music, though! What instrument?"

The doors swing open with one shove. "You haven't even told me what you're studying," she rebukes, playful, and he laughs and something in her gut does a backflip.

"You got me. I'm a sociology major," he says. "I know, it sounds boring, but it's actually fascinating!"

She finds the lecture hall and makes her way inside with Sabo just behind her, on a passionate rant about class divisions and the urban consequences. He moves into a fervent whisper when he notices that they're no longer in a hallway and Koala finds herself entranced by the way he talks, gesturing as he does so, mapping out a world only he can see and that she could only dream of. Only when she picks out a random spot and sits down does he stop talking, for the sole purpose of saying,

"Wait, so what was your instrument again?"

Koala can't help it - she laughs, hiding it behind a hand, as she takes out her textbook and notebook and fishes a pen from somewhere in the depths of her bag. "I never told you," she says and he pouts at her, stupidly cute. "Violin. I'm majoring in strings performance."

"Woah, violin?" His eyes go adorably wide. "Wow. Can I watch you practice sometime?"

"It won't be interesting," she feels the need to warn. "80% of it is just scales and studies. I'm sure you don't want to watch me play double stops for an hour straight."

"I don't even know what those are," he tells her, sincere in his admission. Ten minutes into meeting him and she's already taken in. "Everything you do will be impressive to me, I'm sure."

"Don't you have a campus to wander around on?" she jokes. The professor is starting and Koala flips to a clean page on her notebook, clicking her pen.

"Is that a yes?"

Koala opens her textbook. In the corner of her page, she draws a checkmark and then a time and room in black ink. His answering grin is enough to make her smile in turn.

When he gets up to leave, she resists looking at him - then can't help it and Koala turns back at the perfect moment to catch him give her an exaggerated thumbs up and mouth something - I'll be there - before he vanishes out the door.

To her surprise, when she gets to the practice room at 1:00 with her case and bag in tow, he's there, leaning against the doorjamb, eyes closed and a backpack sitting by his feet. Koala sets down her case, wondering if he's sleeping - the sound of it doesn't elicit any reaction.

He probably is asleep, she reflects. She debates for a moment on whether or not to wake him, then decides that he did want to watch her practice and she may as well, so -

"Gah!"

Koala yanks her hand away as he tries to bat it out of the air, like a startled cat. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead," she teases. "Why were you napping outside the practice room?"

"Oh, you know. The usual," he says with a bashful smile. "You came!"

"I should be the one saying that," she says, opening the door. Picking up her case, she walks inside and starts to set up her violin. Behind her, she hears him follow, the door clicking shut. "You sure about this?"

"Oh, definitely. I like to listen to music when I do homework, so... "

"So I'm background noise," she says, tightening her bow, and can't hold back her laugh when he hurries to assure her that that's not what he meant. "I'm joking! I don't mind, though like I said - it's not very exciting."

"Ah, well, the music I listen to isn't very exciting either," he says, unzipping his bag and pulling out two textbooks. "It's just to help me concentrate, you know? What's that?"

"Oh, this? Rosin," Koala says, wrapping up the cake and dropping it back into her case. "It's to help the bow make a better sound."

"And that?"

"Shoulder-rest. Makes the violin easier to hold."

She's used to playing in front of a mirror, watching and correcting her posture. Thankfully, the practice room has one, so Koala drags a stand over and opens her book of scales. She sets her metronome onto the stand and turns it on, the rhythmic ticking filling their space. Through the mirror's reflection, she can see him opening a laptop and starting to type, soft clicks beneath the sounds of the metronome.

Koala sets her violin on her shoulder, lifts her bow, and starts playing.

Arguably, scales are boring. Considering she's been playing for a good nine years, though, Koala can understand their importance. So she plays through all the major scales, then harmonic and melodic minor, then takes a minute or so to roll her shoulders before starting on chromatic.

Before, Koala used to play for hours on end, losing herself in repertoire. Now, she's learned to take breaks for important things, like water or schoolwork, and that much of practice is meant to be boring. So she stops after the major arpeggios to take a drink of water, then pulls out her binder and flips to a sheet of vibrato exercises.

"Wait," her companion says when she finishes the last one. "That song you just played."

Koala tilts her head, watching his reflection in the mirror. He's staring at her like she'd just started levitating. "What about it?"

"Is that - Is that Bink's Brew?"

"Oh, that's what it's called?" Koala says. "I never knew the name." Hachi in particular loved the song, as did much of Fisher Tiger's family - they would sing it after nights out, and it could often go on well past the moon's zenith.

"Wow," he laughs. "I was not expecting to feel so nostalgic today. Do you have any other songs?"

"I mean, yeah, but unless you grew up on a household in love with classical music I doubt you'll feel as nostalgic," she says. "I might be able to play the rest of the song, though, if I can remember how it goes."

"Please," he says and she laughs but obliges, closing her eyes to pull on those gold-tinted memories.

Her second family, because they'd been her family after she crawled out of the burnt remains of Saint Gregorius' mansion, hadn't been quite on the legal side of things. But they were good, caring people, and they took care of her. She remembers a seedy bar, with the bulbs cracked and flickering, but feeling perfectly at home with them - they never let her touch alcohol, but they somehow got her juice and she would sip on it and listen to their raucous song, Hachi's voice the loudest of them all. It was a simple song, one without much difficult technique; it was a song that rejoiced at being alive, and at being heard.

She ends the song on a flourish, adding an ornament just for the way the notes dance and linger - and for how her companion applauds, grinning from ear to ear.

"You play so well!" he gushes. "I really wanted to sing but I can never sing on-key. It'd sound horrible."

"Oh, don't say that," she laughs.

"No, trust me. My brothers tell me I sound like a goose being strangled to death," he informs her, all earnest eyes.

"Yeah, but it's not what matters," Koala says. "It's not exactly a performance song. It's just for fun."

He's quiet for a moment, absorbing what she just said. Then he tilts his head and smiles at her and something in Koala's chest flutters to and fro.

"I never did get your name," he says. "I'm Sabo."

"Koala," she says. "Nice to meet you, Sabo. Though, it's a few hours late."

He grins at that, carefree as the wind. "Nice to meet you too, Koala! Better late than never, right?"

She leaves the practice room that day with a new bounce her step and a new number in her phone. On her way out of the building, it vibrates and she pulls it out, swiping up to see -

From: Sabo was really cool to meet you today wanna chat again at some point?

To: Sabo sure!

Sabo is, Koala finds out, the eldest sibling of three ("I mean, Ace is technically a month older, but he's also an idiot sometimes, so I think I get to be the oldest, you know?" "Sabo, that's not how ages work."); he's roommates with someone he calls Ivankov, who is in cosmetology school but is also a passionate activist and is frequently helped by Sabo ("See this scar? Yeah, a cop clipped me with a rubber bullet once." "You know you should run in zig-zags from bullets, not directly away, right?" "I'll keep that in mind for the future, then."); he boxes, and is taught by someone he calls Dragon ("He's got this wicked tattoo on his face and he hits like a damn truck. I swear he can teleport." "He's called Dragon? I think I've heard of him before." "Oh, really? You should come with me sometime!").

The last point is one Koala takes in with interest. "I should!" she agrees. "I do kickboxing, actually, in my spare time. It'll be fun."

"Ooh, then we definitely don't need to teach you," he says. "It makes sense that you do kickboxing. You need the reach."

She flicks him in the forehead for that, which he accepts chortling like a loon all the while. "Shut up."

"You'd have to reach my face to make me do that!" he grins and hurriedly ducks away when she leans over to pinch at his cheeks.

"You're a dumbass."

"I've been told it's one of my charms."

Sabo is also, Koala finds out, passionate, intelligent, and impulsive. He texted her once if i mix together coffee, sleeping pills, and yogurt will it cancel out into just yogurt? with a blurry picture of his kitchen counter and she'd run over to stop him in the middle of the night, knocking the cursed concoction out of his hands when he opened the door. That same night she met Ivankov, who took a liking to her immediately for managing to stop one of Sabo's horrific, sleep-deprivation fueled plans.

He's top of his class and she could (and has, before) go for hours listening to him talk about his interests, whether over phone call or in-person as they work. Everything about how he speaks, from the way he skips over syllables when he gets excited to the gesturing of his hands to the clear zeal in his voice - she thinks of it when she plays, sometimes, trying to translate that same fervour into her pieces.

He's also a right idiot sometimes, but it's so easy to relax around him, to let herself come free. She thinks of that when she plays too, sometimes, letting his laughter drift through her head and hearing her notes bounce to a similar rhythm, clear and joyous.

And he's a good boxer. He does bring her to meet Dragon at one point, and she wraps her hands and accepts the gloves and gets in the ring against him, and they trade blows until she knows she'll feel the bruises the next day but so will he, until he gets out between heavy breaths that she's packing a lot of muscle in your tiny arms, damn and she finds the strength between panted laughter to (gently, of course) whack him on the head, which he ducks to let her do, snickering all the while. It's the same day that she meets Sabo's brothers - Dragon, apparently, is Luffy's father, though none of them refer to him as such ("It's complicated," Sabo says, and leaves it at that) - and Hack.

Put short, he's a good friend. He's -

"Anyone ever tell you you look like that one fairytale prince?"

"Ew, princes," Sabo says, wrinkling his nose, before she can even register what she just blurted out and feel embarrassed, at all. "I don't want to be a part of oppressive nobility. C'mon, Koala, can't I be like - a cool rogue, or something?"

She elbows him. "Fine, fine. You're a cool rogue."

"With a top hat." He grins down at her, conspiratorial, and she thinks a top hat would suit him - would look dashing on him, even.

"With a top hat," she indulges and lets herself believe, for a moment, that her comment had been forgotten.

"So, what's that fairytale with a prince?"

Shit. "It's just an old story my family used to tell me," she says. Sabo's aware already that the people Koala grew up with were perhaps not quite always on the right side of the law, and his only reaction was just Cool, can I meet them? To which she'd had to say No, and didn't elaborate.

"Yeah?" Sabo says. He leans on her shoulder, a steady weight as she studies for her upcoming music history test. His voice is no demand but is an invitation, letting her decide, and she doesn't think she can't be any more grateful for his friendship.

"There's a girl," Koala says. "She lives by the ocean and she makes a living there, when an injured bird washes up on her shore. She takes in the bird and nurses it to full health, whereupon it promises her that if she keeps it with her it will grant her riches beyond measure. But she doesn't want to keep an innocent animal trapped, so she declines and goes to release it. When she sets it on the sand, it transforms into a prince, who tells her that she has freed him from his curse and they fall in love and marry. The end."

"Riveting storytelling."

"Oh, shush."

Just a story, just a memory shared first by firelight and now underneath the lamplight. He is kind of like that prince, the sort of boy she would have dreamed of as a naive child, whether curled up in their stifling room in the servant's quarters or watching the stars through the crooked window lying on Hachi's back.

Sabo shifts a little closer. He says, "When I was a kid, my brothers and I got it into our heads that there was a monster stalking our home. So we found old pipes and went to hunt it down."

"That does sound like a you thing to do."

"Hey, what does that mean?"

Koala snickers at his mock-offended expression and lightly pokes his cheek. "Did you succeed?"

"Nah, we were kids. But our grandfather came and beat it up for us, then taught us how to use those pipes." He spins a pen between his fingers, and she watches the clever bend and flick of them. He could be a pianist, with his nimble hands. "Fun times."

She recognizes it as the offering it is - story for a story, memory for a memory. Their own little bargain, their own little trade.

She lets herself relax into his shoulder and turns a page in her notebook.

From: 'dashing' rogue so how'd it go?

To: 'dashing' rogue how'd what go?

From: 'dashing' rogue your test you were studying for it right? saw your textbook

To: 'dashing' rogue better than expected what about your presentation? you were stressed when you were rehearsing

From: 'dashing' rogue i may or may not have gone over the time limit :)

To: 'dashing' rogue sabo

From: 'dashing' rogue hey it was only by like two minutes it's fine... probably :) :)

To: 'dashing' rogue don't smiley face at me >:((

Okay, so maybe the butterflies in her stomach haven't been digested yet. Maybe they're still there.

That's life. Koala has other things to focus on - like her upcoming recital, where she's managed to earn the chance to play solo and not just in the orchestra.

"With passion!" her teacher says, spinning about in the room. It should look ridiculous, one full-grown adult doing pirouettes with a (comically shorter) girl playing violin in the center, the metronome ticking in the background. "With love, Koala! Pour all your heart into it!"

Professor Brook has been deemed eccentric by many, but he's a damn good teacher. Some of the student body rumour that he's immortal, based on the pictures they've seen in his office. Whether or not those rumours hold any truth to it is another matter (though, privately, she thinks they may be accurate - no mortal person would talk so personally about some of history's greatest composers).

"And steady now - let that note take its time! Let it ring! The audience needs to feel its full weight!"

She finishes the piece on a dying chord, the sound fading delicately away like morning mist evaporated by the sun, melancholic and wistful as the piece demands. Professor Brook wipes a fake tear and claps.

"Bravo, dear! You've improved much since you started this piece!"

"Thanks, professor!" Koala says, rolling her left shoulder.

"But, something is missing," Brook says, voice becoming more serious as he pulls up a chair and sits in front of her. "Not that your playing isn't beautiful! Your technique - stunning. Your vibrato is marvelous. That double-stop passage in the midsection so many have trouble with - your intonation there is nigh perfect. Yes, yes, you would wow every audience."

He looks at her, serious, and she abruptly remembers her first time visiting Brook's office and seeing the bookshelf of awards, every single shelf absolutely filled - one he'd waved off as 'unimportant' when she asked about it, instead pushing tea into her hands and imploring her to sit. If there was something lacking about her playing, he of all people would certainly know.

"Music can have no uncertainties, dear," Brook tells her. "Even pieces like the Autumn Suite - ah, such a lovely work of art, a shame about Ellis cheating on his wife or perhaps we would have the complete version - must be played by a violinist who knows perfectly well their purpose." He taps her forehead with a cool finger. "You need to be confident, Koala. You are showing your best self, through your music. What is making you hesitate?"

She looks - not at Brook, but past Brook, to the girl she sees watching in the mirror. She's played for Sabo more times after their first meeting, but each time has grown more nervous, with more wish to impress. And it's impressed him, alright, when she's shown him some of her flashier caprices and concertos, when she's dipped into her repertoire of fugues and sonatas. But this will be the first time she plays as a performer, onstage beneath the searing spotlights, the crowd expectant and him in it.

"Someone is going to be there," she admits. "I don't want to mess up in front of him, not when they want my best."

"Ah. A lover?"

"What - no!" she shrieks. "He's not that! He's a friend."

"Young love," Brook sighs wistfully. "You make me nostalgic for my own days - then again, those were only forty years ago!"

"I thought they were fifty?"

"Ah, forty-five. Nonetheless!" Brook says, waving a hand. "This is the one you think of? This is your focus? Your muse?"

She really wishes he wouldn't say it like that. Still - "I.. guess?"

"No uncertainties, dear. Do you think of him?"

I do, Koala knows in her heart, and she says, "I do."

Too much, maybe.

"Then you will go up on that stage," Brook announces. "You will bow and you will find him in the audience. And you will close your eyes, and think of him. Do it now, in fact! Let's run it through one more time."

She raises her violin to her shoulder and lifts her bow to the strings. She can hear Brook stepping over to the piano, and the mellow notes ringing through the room, bouncing off the walls, off the glass of the mirror. Koala knows this piece by heart, inside and out - she's tapped it against tables, against her palm, against armrests. She's hummed it in the shower and when studying ("You have a nice voice!" "Thanks!).

"And close your eyes," Brook calls, over the piano's introduction. "There is nothing there but you. You are alone, and the only person you are playing for, Koala - "

- the only person in the audience who matters, the only person she can picture at that moment as the white lights hit her eyelashes and overtake most of her vision and for a second she panics, she thinks I can't find him, where is he? There's just so many people.

But then. Blond hair, sandwiched between two other people she can recognize as Sabo's brothers. Ivankov is there, too. Dragon, as well. But most of all is Sabo, his attention fixed on her. The whole room, fixed on her, watching her, and he is all that she cares about as her cue approaches.

Koala shuts her eyes. Squeezes them tight, blocking out the harsh glare, and thinks of lamplight and warmth. Affection snuck between them, shoulders pressed and legs tangling. Tenderness.

This is why she loves music, she thinks - it is her, in every way possible, and it will say everything she does not dare put to words. Her breaths rise and fall with the beat, inexplicably steady. Tenderness. This is what she fell in love with, this feeling of total synchrony, of total unification. Nothing but her, and her muse, that matters.

A love confession, she thinks with some irony - can Sabo even tell? There is a knowledge needed, to decipher music. But it won't matter, because this is as much for her as it is for him, and when she gets off the stage she will feel lighter than she has in months, all her longing poured into her notes and disseminated into the air.

She opens her eyes on a moment of stillness, people spellbound and entranced. Koala lets her bow hover, allowing the silence to run its natural course. She doesn't try to find Sabo in the audience, this time.

Then she allows her bow to come down, and her violin too, and she waits for the pianist to join her before they both bow and then leave, heralded by raucous applause.

Sabo is the first one who gets to her after the recital. Koala can see some of her fellow music students receiving bouquets and hugs, but Sabo pulls out a gathered bunch of dandelions, columbine, and daisies with a flourish and presents them to her with a smile that she would dare call nervous.

"You played amazingly," he declares. "I can't ever stop being impressed by you, can I?"

"Flatterer," she laughs, certain that her cheeks are a red to match the columbine petals, and accepts. They are beautiful and vibrant, and the gold of the dandelions calls back to Sabo's hair. "Did you pick these?"

"They're small but stubborn, like you," he teases and she elbows him but this time he catches her elbow, draws her in close and wraps his arm around her shoulders in a hug, the flowers pressed between them like a secret.

"You really were beautiful," he murmurs into her hair, and she wonders if she's hearing the hammering of his heart or her own.

"Thanks," she whispers, into the daisy petals, and wonders if what's left unsaid by her will ever come out in the open or if it will haunt them between late nights and punches.

All he does is squeeze her tight, and Koala holds to him with the same strength and her hopes flutter like the flower petals in the wind.

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Wordcount: 4333

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mysticdragon3art · 2 years

Text

My first full group doodle of all the Golden Deer.

I think I just wasted an all-nighter, cleaning up bad doodles on Krita, even though this wasn't even a scan. Since my scanner is still broken, I had to take bad photos of my drawings, so when I eventually get a fixed scanner, this version will get replaced anyway. I couldn't even use my stylus pen because its battery ran out. All night with the touchpad instead. x_x; What did I just do? o~o??? I even wasted too much of yesterday, drawing this, instead of my daily MerMay challenge. o_o;;;;;

...But finally drawing my first full group pic of the Golden Deer, makes me so happy. ;u;! I really wanted to see the completed version of this, evne if I had to pull an dall-nighter. ^.^;

#fanart #chibi #doodles #fe3hfuukasetsugetsu #golden deer #claudeVRkhalid

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mihikasamantasmedia · 1 year

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Filming Day 2 Schedule 1 - Scene 3

We started at 9 am with the actor's makeup(Robbie).

At 10 am, we started shooting scene 3. It was the scene with a closeup on his face in front of the elevator door. The camera tracks inside, followed by a dialogue and focuses on his hand which is busy, clicking the pen. There are 3 shots in this scene. The first two shots were taken by keeping the camera on a tripod. The third shot , is a closeup on Robbie's hand, for which the camera was handheld. The most difficult shoot in these three shots, for me, was the third shot. This is because i took it while stuck to the corner of the lift, in a very uncomfortable position. Even though this shot was a bit difficult to shoot , all was not in vain. This shot was hands down my favourite shot in the whole of 2 mins.

Next on the schedule - Scene 4

At 10.30 am, we started shooting scene 4. This scene is about : -Robbie walks onto the floor as, we have a tracking shot on his shoes at ground level,making his way to class. I feel like this shot was somewhat challenging for me , as we kept the camera on a skateboard and dragged it until he reaches his class. This was the shot which took the most takes, out of all the shots we took for the whole two days. The reason for this was that we wanted the lift to be empty when Robbie came out of the lift. The problem was that since we were shooting it in the school, the lift wasn't always empty. Secondly, since the lift door is reflective, anyone standing near it would have reflection on it. In one of the takes, our director's reflection came out on the lift as he was standing next to me. So we had to retake it.

Next on the schedule - start setting the mise-en-scene for scene 1&2

At 11.30 am, we had to set the table and cereal for scene 2, since it was a scene where Robbie is having breakfast. Also, the location for scene 2 was a last minute, impromptu decision, but it turned out well. We also had to set up the bed for scene 1, since the scene shows Robbie waking up from his sleep. We set the bed by bringing mattresses and the bedsheet, and setting it on two tables.

Scene 2 :- 1.00 pm

Scene 2 was a scene, showing Robbie eating cereal alone. He reads a note attached on the box from his parents explaining their absence that morning due to work. Robbie coughs, crumples the note, and throws it off frame. This scene had a total of 3 shots. For shot 1, the camera was on a tripod. It was a mid long shot on Robbie, eating cereal. The second shot was a close up on the note that he reads and crumples. This was a handheld shot. Shot 3 was an extreme close up on the box of cereal, since Kellogg's is one of our sponsors.

Scene 1 - last schedule of the day

We started to shoot scene 1, at 2 pm. Scene 1 had 3 shots all together. We open in Robbies bedroom with an extreme closeup of his eyes opening, which is shot 1. This shot was hands down the hardest to shoot. This was because I had to shoot this shot in a very uncomfortable postion, standing on the bed created by us(which was literally in between of two tables), one leg on each side of the actor, with the camera in my hand. Adding to my difficulties, the monitor ran out of battery and unfortunately we had no backup, therefore I couldn't change the aspect ratio. Which why I had to bend down, with the camera in my hand, for this shot(leading to me having back pain the next day!). Shot 2 was a side angle, long shot on Robbie, in which the camera is placed on a tripod at the right side of the bed. Shot 3 was a mid shot of robbie getting ready for school.

3 pm - Wrap up.....End of Day 2!!

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httpjeon · 3 years

Text

heajix ― jungkook (m.)

jungkook/reader | alien!au | angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 13.1k

contents: violence, blood, stabbing, minor character death, murder, mentions of mass genocide, knotting, breeding kink/impreg kink, light size kink, dirty talk, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, begging, multiple orgasms, light cumflation, cum eating, cum sharing

― synopsis: you find yourself on palacios, home to the sehebon. unfortunately, it’s not by choice and you quickly realize how deadly the planet is.

note: heajix is pronounced hay-jicks

blog masterlist ― made of stardust masterlist

You'd been traveling, backpacking to be precise, through Fanet IV System — the newest system to be open for interplanetary travel. While you were traveling and exploring the newly available system and planets you began experiencing extreme technical difficulties. You wound up having to make an emergency landing on the planet of perpetual night called Palacios, home of the Heajix — an obscure, secretive race small in population.

Unfortunately, the least developed planet hadn't taken too kindly to their status of open-for-visits and had seemingly gone into a global lockdown of some sort since it began.

The second you stepped off your craft, you began to cough. The pollution in the air and smog that you could see had you scrambling for the mask you'd been given ahead of your visit.

You were in the heart of the capital city, Yathe, and it was nothing like you'd expected. Instead of a bustling metropolis like on all the other planets — it was nothing but abandoned buildings and graffiti covered walls. There seemed to be limited electricity supplied as street lamps flickered on and off, though most didn't work. The ones that were flickering helped you navigate your way around regardless.

The place was basically lawless, from what you knew, and the citizens did what they wanted to for the most part.

Pulling your backpack over your shoulders, you began to make your way through a nearby residential area. The houses, if you could call them that, were dilapidated and run-down; some had broken windows and others were completely destroyed. The Heajix's native tongue was plastered all over the ruined buildings and, while you weren't fluent, were talking shit about the other planets.

Using the flashlight on your phone, and aided by the illumination of the moon, you managed to find yourself in front of a house. It was small and wooden, no doubt old. When you walked inside, you realized it was just a simple one-room house with an attached bathroom as the only other room.

It was a gamble to assume it was unoccupied but, you really didn't have any other choices since you really couldn't spend the night out on the street. Your communications were down and there was no cell service.

You sighed and stepped inside, wincing at the visible dust floating around the room — thankful for your mask. When you turned to lock the door, you were dismayed to find there was only a broken locking mechanism. Groaning, you banged your head against the door.

"Why does my life suck? This planet might actually kill me!" You grumbled to yourself.

You dropped your backpack on the floor, unraveling the sleeping bag that was attached at the bottom and dropping it in a suitable sleeping place. There was a window right beside the front door, large enough for you to clearly see outside and allowing the moonlight to drift in.

You placed your bag in the corner near your sleeping bag and sat down. It was soft and cushioned, helping you to not feel the hard, rough floor beneath. There was a pillow sewn into the sleeping bag which you laid your head on.

The trip had been long and grueling, taking a week to complete so sleep quickly caught up to you. As your eyes fluttered closed, just before darkness completely overtook you, you swear you saw someone moving in the window.

Waking up to no sunlight was definitely jarring and you quickly realized that your circadian rhythm was going to flip out. Regardless, you looked at the time and it was just past 9 in the morning so you stood up and stretched, intending to take a shower. Grabbing your backpack, you dragged it over to the bathroom. Toting the thing made you realize how heavy it was — you'd packed so much into it for the trip. It hit the floor with a clunk and you were briefly concerned it would break the wood floor beneath.

There was a shower — a rusted spigot and a broken hot water nozzle. You groaned, realizing how shitty your morning was about to be. You reached in, turning the nozzle. The pipes clanged loudly and made a high pitched wailing noise before spurting out water. Your jaw dropped open and you let out a cry of despair at the yellowed water.

After finishing your horrifying shower, 20 minutes of holding in shrieks from the cold polluted water, you sat on the floor in the main area by the window. You did notice that the moon was a lot brighter than it had been and provided more visibility. Pulling out your file from your backpack, you hunched over the floor to take note of the crummy conditions the planet lived in along with their lack of fresh, clean water.

It was a hobby of sorts, traveling through newly opened solar systems and journaling your stay on the planets.

Checking your phone, you noticed it was nearing noon and your stomach began to growl. You slipped your shoes on and put the mask back on your face before stepping out; hiding your belongings in the bathroom to make it seem like the house was empty should anyone come by.

When you stepped outside, you felt a shiver travel up your spine at the ominous atmosphere. It was completely silent, not a single soul in sight and it set you on edge. Pulling the hood of your hoodie up, you kept your head down as you began to walk towards the area where your ship had been parked.

Truth be told, it was quite common on planets of weaker economies for the Capital Planet to provide the citizen with rations.

There were other planets you'd seen them on, and as you walked through the smoggy city you were pleased to find a run-down building marked with a giant red symbol of Vulia — capital of Fanet IV.

The glass doors were smashed open and you easily stepped inside. It was dark and dusty with minimal light helping to guide you. Finally giving in, you turned your cell phone's flashlight on and began to look around.

The place was massive and you were shocked to see that the shelves were still lined with food. It wasn't abundant but it was clear not many people had been picking from the rations.

You grabbed some things from the shelf, realizing you should have brought your backpack. Most of the food was marked in foreign text but you didn’t care. You just needed food or else you wouldn’t survive long enough, on the planet, to even figure out how to get home.

You put some in your pockets and carried others in your hands as you swiftly left the building. Looking around, you felt like someone was watching you but the streets were pedestrian-free. In fact it was eerily empty — it was reminiscent of a ghost town. Strange considering it was the capital city of the planet.

Not wanting to risk getting into trouble, you hurried on your way the your ‘home’. Regretfully, as you shut the door, you remembered the door didn’t properly lock. You weren’t particularly handy enough to really fix it by yourself, unfortunately.

You saved as much food as you could in order to avoid having to go back out and quickly found yourself bored. Looking at the clock, you realized it was only about 2pm. There was no way you could go outside to find something to do. Aside from the fact you knew close to nothing about the planet, you also didn't feel safe out and about.

So you sat there, watching the hours tick by. Your phone battery was depleting and there was no way to charge it — the planet wasn’t quite equipped with outlets and electricity. Once it was dead you were going to be so fucked — no flashlight and no way to tell the time.

It was still early when you decided to roll out your sleeping bag and lay down. You spent a while simply staring at the walls and ceiling daydreaming.

As you lay there in your own world, out of the corner of your eye, something shifted in the darkness of your window.

You sat up quickly, turning your head to look but found nothing to see.

"Now I'm starting to hallucinate," You grumbled, laying back down and turning your back to the window.

You sighed when you woke back up, glancing at your phone indicated it'd only been a couple hours. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, your gaze shifted to the window once again.

Your breath caught in your chest when you could make out the shape of a person standing there — silhouetted against the moon's light.

You couldn't see their face but you knew they could see you, you could feel their gaze burning into you, as they brought their hand to the glass and tapped three times. You didn't breathe, eyes wide with fear you watched as their head tilted to the side. They lifted their hand up again, no doubt intending to knock again when they froze.

You swear you could hear muffled voices but it was so faint it was nearly impossible to be sure that's what you heard. The person's head snapped to the side, body going stiff.

Much to your horror, a second figure made an appearance from a few feet behind them.

All was still for a second before the first figure bolted and took off running. The second person stood there for a second and you were scared they were going to harass you as well. However, the person turned and walked in the opposite direction the other one ran.

With your sleeping bag pulled up to your eyes, you knew you weren't going to be falling asleep again.

When the morning came, you began trying to fix the lock — the night before having made you terrified for your safety. It was a simple type of latch and it took you hours to figure out a way to get it to work — with the help of a bobby pin and a spare pen you had in your bag.

It wasn't the best but it gave you a sense of peace of mind.

You hoped you'd be able to sleep.

Staring at the window, you sighed — maybe you could find something to cover it up when you grew the courage to go out again. You really needed to, having run out of rations and on your last bottle of water that you had collected.

Your phone was almost completely dead after you had been using it to light your work on the lock. The bar was red indicating a sad 18% power left.

The time was a bit past 5PM and you decided to go while it was still technically daytime. Once outside, you wanted to cry with how much you hated it.

Curse you and you terrible luck.

You could only hope that the signals for help you'd sent out would miraculously find their way to someone who could help you. There was also the possibility of you finding someone in Yathe who could help you — whenever you gained the courage to venture around and find help for yourself.

Until then, you'd just suffer by yourself.

You did the rounds again, this time you stuffed much more into your backpack — which you’d remembered to take. Every little creak and gust of wind caused you to jump, the image of that person standing at your window was still haunting you.

You were going to be severely out of luck soon; with no phone, no way to contact Earth or a nearby planet to get to for safety, along with the apparent stalkers hiding in the dark. With worries weighing heavily on your mind, you found yourself drifting into your thoughts. Anxiety riddled your being and you cursed yourself for not having been prepared for an event like the one you were in.

The only thing that pulled you from your thoughts were the heavy footsteps not far behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and your hands began to tremble. Taking a glance over your shoulder, you saw a broad-shouldered individual meandering around behind you. With their hood pulled over their head, you couldn't see their face but you were sure it was a man.

When he noticed you looking, he picked up his pace intending to catch up to you. You held a whimper of fear in, speeding up your own pace.

His footsteps sped up again and you felt tears of fear pricking at your eyes — your house was right up ahead. You could get inside and lock him out.

Just before you reached your house, the footsteps stopped altogether. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the man talking to another person.

He had a friend.

You were in such deep shit.

Practically bolting to your house, you locked the door shut and placed your backpack in front of it — it was heavy and it wouldn't do much. Nonetheless, it helped you feel safe. You slid to the floor underneath the window, out of view.

Despite your fear, your stomach began to grumble with hunger. You chanced a peek out of the window and found there was not another soul in sight.

Your hands were shaking so bad it made it difficult to bring your drink safely to your lips. It took you an hour, according to your phone, to eat some of your food as you had kept drifting off into space.

A loud bang made your eyes shoot open, having fallen asleep against the wall with your knees to your chest. Drowsy, you looked around for the source of what woke you up.

Another bang and you saw your poorly locked door move with the weight of someone slamming against it. You scrambled backwards away from the door, eyes wide as tears pricked at them in fear.

There was nothing you could do as the lock gave and the door flew open. A man stood there, shoulders heaving as he glared at you. You could see only his eyes as his face was masked with scarf.

"Please..." You whispered, backing yourself into a corner.

"I knew you were a human," He growled, voice gruff and raw. "You know you're not welcome here."

"I-I..." Your mind blanked with any defense you could have made.

Just as he took another step forward, a second larger figured barreled through the open doorway. He was covered by an oversized black hoodie and black face mask. The heavy black boots on his feet added more to his height. You saw your life flash before your eyes and you just knew you were doomed.

"You—" The new man moved forward in the blink of an eye and had the other man jacked up against the wall by the front of his shirt.

"What did I tell you?" The second man asked, voice muffled by the full-face white mask he wore.

"Look—" The first man began but stopped when the second tightened his grip. "Fuck fine, I'll go."

The second man said nothing, simply letting the other go for him to run out the door. He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he turned to you.

You were frozen where you sat, his dark eyes, through the dark shadow his long bangs casted, doing nothing to quell your fear.

"What's your name?" He suddenly asked.

"_-_____," You muttered, not taking your eyes off him as he began to walk around your house. His boots thunked against the wood floors as he investigated whatever he saw.

"Well ______," He turned to you and sighed. "My name's Jungkook."

He crouched in front of you, the chain hanging on his jeans jingling when it met the floor, pulling the bands around his ears off and removed his mask.

It felt like the air was promptly knocked out of you. Even in the dark you could make out beautiful features on his face; wide, sparkling doe eyes with long curly bangs that hung in them. He had pretty, delicate lips with a small freckle beneath and a sharp jawline.

He was young and really good looking.

"N-Nice to meet you, Jungkook..." You stuttered.

He cocked his head to the side, fully sitting on the floor in front of you with his legs spread and arms resting on his knees. His dark eyes analyzed you, scanning over your features and body.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice portraying no identifiable emotion.

"I-I just found this e-empty house and—"

"No, I mean why are you here...on Palacios," He nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at you.

"I um...I was traveling and had to make an emergency landing on the nearest planet," You explained.

"Why are you still here?" Jungkook's eyebrows were furrowed.

"My...my communications are down and Palacios doesn't have cell reception," You explained. "I attempted to send out an emergency beacon when I landed but there's no telling if it went through. And I've been too scared to try and make the trek back to see."

"It's probably been looted and dismantled by now for spare parts," He said, making you groan in despair.

"Are there any like...Embassy officials I can talk to? Government officials that can help me?" With every question, you felt your heart beginning to race with anxiety once more.

Jungkook's shoulders shrugged as he shook his head. "Do you not know anything about this place?"

"Only what's been released through the media," You replied honestly. "That you guys went into a lockdown or something."

"We don't...like outsiders here," He whispered before looking away. "There's no one who can help you. We're governless and we have no officials."

"Well how do you have laws a-and—"

"Does it look like we have laws, _____?" He snapped, making you flinch. "Look around. This isn't Earth. We don't have the luxury of being law-abiding citizens. We do what we have to to survive."

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"Let's go," He cut you off again, standing up.

"Where?" You whispered, staring up at him.

"I said let's go," He growled, reaching down and grabbing your elbow. You whined when he aggressively jerked you to your feet, ignoring the painful grip he had on you.

"Wait! My things!" You complained, trying to break out of his harsh grip.

Jungkook growled, snatching up your backpack and tossing it over his shoulder.

"My sleeping bag..."

"You don't need it," He grumbled, yanking you out of the broken doorway.

As you walked, you noticed he tugged his mask back on — hiding his face. To your surprise, he pulled you only a few houses down from the one you had been in. He pulled out a key ring from the belt loops on his jeans and slid a key in the lock.

The house was still fairy dilapidated but it had clearly been renovated and fixed up to suit his needs. He hastily slammed the door behind him and locked the three locks that were there — a knob lock, deadbolt, and a simple latch lock like the one in the place you’d been hiding in.

The house was a bit bigger than the one you'd been in — it had an actual bedroom. All except a single window towards the back of the house and a window you could see in the bedroom were boarded up. Jungkook dropped your belongings on the floor with a thud and dropped to sit on the tattered couch in the living area.

"Um..." You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching as he removed his mask again and tossed it away. His eyes cut to you and he raised a brow in question. "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, closing his eyes as he laid his head on the back of the couch.

"I mean...at your house, why...am I in your house?"

He chuckled at your question and you bit your lip at the sight of his crooked smirk. "Well, you were nearly killed over there. Did you want to spend your night there?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Look," He sat up and sighed. "There was no way you could survive on your own in this place. Actual Heajix can barely survive. So, I'm doing you a favor and helping you out, okay? The least you could say is thank you."

"I...thank you." It came out more as a question and Jungkook scoffed.

"You can sleep here," He mumbled, getting to his feet and stalking past you to his room. As he passed you, a sweet smell, delicate scent wafted off of him and you couldn’t help but inhale. It was nice.

You felt around your pockets and realized you had left your phone behind. You whined as you sat down on the couch, not willing to ask Jungkook to go and retrieve it for you. Jungkook's door clicked shut and you were left alone and in silence. It was dark, the moonlight from the back window barely reaching where you were sitting.

You curled up, shivering at the cool draft and your lack of a blanket. Closing your eyes, you hoped for sleep to overtake you.

Soft footsteps moved around you and your eyes fluttered open. Jungkook stood in the kitchenette, shuffling with something on a plate. Sitting up, you winced at how sore your muscles were from curled up on the small space all night. Your neck felt stiff and hurt when you moved it a certain way.

"Um what time is it?" You asked, voice groggy from sleep.

"I don't know," He replied, not looking at you.

"What do you mean you don't know?" You asked.

He turned around, carrying a plate over to the coffee table and placing it down. He was wearing a loose white sweater and sweatpants, long curly hair messy and hanging in his eyes. "I mean...we don't exactly have a concept of time anymore. There aren't really functioning clocks so we all just...run on our own schedules."

"I see..." You watched him pick at some food on the plate and pop it in his mouth. It looked like some kind of diced meat. "What is this?"

"Food," He replied shortly, not offering any other information even as you glared at him. "Eat before you die of starvation."

You sighed but couldn't deny the hunger pains in your stomach. Albeit suspiciously, you took a piece of meat and popped it in your mouth. You hummed, finding nothing strange tasting about it — it tasted similar to ham.

The two of you finished it together and he leaned back on the couch with a groan, patting his stomach. You sat in silence, listening to the wind blowing outside.

"It's probably going to storm soon," He muttered suddenly, eyes drifting towards the window.

You hummed in response, picking at a thread around a hole in your jeans. You weren’t sure how to reply to him, truthfully his tough attitude and mannerisms intimidated you. The last thing you wanted to do was make him mad enough to kick you out and it seemed like he had a bit of a short fuse.

"Do you want a shower?" He suddenly asked, making you jump.

"Um...yeah I guess," You dreaded taking another shower in the filthy water but it’d give you a chance to be away from him and relax a bit.

Jungkook led you to the bathroom and you were surprised by how well maintained it was. He grabbed a towel from a shelf on the wall and tossed it to you. Then without uttering another word, he shut the door and left you alone.

You were pleased to see a hot water handle and eagerly turned it. Then, much to your surprise, the water came out perfectly clean and clear. Without wasting a second, you eagerly stripped and stepped under the warm shower.

It felt like you were in there for ages, having to use some soap Jungkook had to clean yourself. You hoped he didn't mind, though it smelled very good.

When you stepped out, you felt fresher and you were surprised to see new clothes on the countertop.

He had come in while you were shower.

Your face burned hot, hoping he hadn't looked. Throwing on the clothes, you hummed at how clean and nice you felt for the first time since being on the planet. When you walked out of the bathroom, Jungkook was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and arms over his chest like he was napping.

"H-How did you have clean water?" You asked, taking a seat beside him.

You heard him inhale and felt his body tense. For a second you thought he was going to yell at you, but instead he opened his eyes to look at you. "I hooked all my piping to a private water reservoir that continuously purifies the water."

"That's...impressive," You whispered. "How'd you learn to do that?"

He shrugged. "Took a lot of testing, trial and error with the purification. But my parents were mechanical engineers in Zlathe."

"Zlathe?" You asked.

"It was another city a long time ago," He replied, running a hand through his hair revealing his forehead.

"...Was? What do you mean?" You sat up straighter and he sighed.

"Before everything fell, Zlathe was a neighboring city even bigger than Yathe," He explained.

"I don't understand," You muttered. "What do you mean everything fell?"

"You really are ignorant," He chuckled, though it held no mirth. You couldn’t find it in you to be offended because it was true; but no one outside knew anything about the planet.

"Well it's not my fault your planet is a secret," You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We were less developed than everyone...the other planets," His voice held nothing but spite as he spat out the words. "Palacios is the smallest and collectively they all decided, even as we rejected the idea, to create landfills here to dispose of their waste so their own planets didn't become a mess."

"So...that's what caused the pollution?" You asked.

He nodded. "The more toxic the air became, the more sick people became. Those who were able to leave did and those who couldn't were trapped. All of our government leaders left us without a word. Everything went to complete chaos."

"That's horrible! They just abandoned their citizens?" You gasped, eyes wide with shock.

"One by one the cities became desolate. Yathe is, from what we know, the only standing safe city. When the population became crammed into this last safezone those fucking Vorderans swept in and raided every nook and cranny they could. We went from 500,000 people to a mere maybe...20,000?"

"Vorderans?" You hummed. "The people of Vulia? Capital Planet for Fanet IV? Why did they do that?"

Jungkook scoffed. "Why would I tell you? So you can report it back to the Humans and they can take what's left of an already dying people? We're a doomed species — pushed to the brink of extinction over greed and classicism. Why do you think we kill any outside official that comes here, huh?"

"W-We just...everyone just said Heajix were very...private," You muttered, a little startled by his aggressive attitude.

"Yeah they would," He spat. "They don't want to have to explain the complete genocide and decimation of a planet they spearheaded."

"Did you say kill?" You suddenly whispered, brain catching up to what he’d previous confessed.

"Of course, any foreign person who comes to us...after we warned the Embassy to leave us alone...they sign their own death warrant," He said, absolutely no remorse in his voice.

"Is that why that guy broke in?" You asked, which he nodded at.

"Yeah, you were targeted by him even though it wasn't even discussed," When he heard you hum in confusion. "We may not have people in high positions telling us what to do but we do maintain some order. Any foreign person who comes here is watched and if they're deemed a threat we take them out. So far...every person has proved themselves to be so. But you...we hadn't caught you doing anything other than trying to survive and hide so we voted to leave you alone."

"So why did that guy—"

"He went off the deep end I guess, didn't trust you and wanted to take you out on his own terms to be safe. He'll be punished and dealt with appropriately," He said, pulling his sleeves of his sweatshirt up to show a wide expanse of tattoos written in a foreign text. "All criminals after punishment are made to have a tattoo on their skin detailing the nature and severity of the crime. It's kind of like a way to shame us for behaving that way. It’s a little piece of our culture we’ve maintained even after the fall."

You leaned closer, looking over the intricate text that was displayed. He had a handful from what you could tell.

"I take it you're not going to tell me what your crimes are?" You asked, unsurprised when he yanked his sleeve down harshly.

"What the hell happened to your arm?" He suddenly asked, changing the subject, eyes pinned to your arm.

When you looked down to follow his gaze, you were shocked to see a nasty purpling bruise around your elbow.

"I have no idea," You muttered. However, he grabbed your wrist and you gasped, attempting to yank yourself away. "That hurts, you know! Jeez, why are you so rough?"

"Rough?" He scoffed. "I'm barely even touching you!"

"Well, you've got a twisted concept of gentle," You muttered, rubbing your now sore wrist. "Oh."

"What?" He grumbled, pouting at having been chewed out by you.

"It's where you grabbed me yesterday," You muttered. "Jeez I knew you were rough but..."

"I wasn't that rough..." At the tone of his voice, you looked up and saw him frowning. He lightly ran his fingers over the bruise. "I didn't meant to hurt you."

"I..." You were shocked by how upset he seemed over it, showing actual concern. "It's okay...it'll heal. J-Just be more careful next time, okay?"

"I didn't realize how easy you are to hurt," He muttered, still staring at your bruise. "You're a delicate race, huh? I'll be more careful, I promise."

You smiled at him and nodded. His lips twitched upward in his own smile and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

The following day, Jungkook stood before you with a backpack on his shoulders. His mask was in place and he looked at you where you sat on his couch.

"When I leave, lock the door behind me," He ordered you, watching as you quickly nodded your head. "And don't open up until you're sure it's me, got it?"

"Got it," You replied, feeling anxious over the situation.

His boots stomped against the floor as he walked to the door, casting one strong glance at you over his shoulder before walking out and slamming it shut. You quickly raced over and slid the latch lock in place and twisted the deadbolt while he locked the knob. Left alone in the silence, you felt extremely uncomfortable.

You looked around, eyes falling on the door to Jungkook's bedroom. Debating for a moment, you decided he'd probably be gone long enough for you to have a peek.

Pushing the door open, you were pleased at how nice it smelled — Jungkook's clean scent permeating from every inch.

As you stepped inside, you noticed a pile of old, worn books in one corner. He had a table beside his bed with a picture frame on it. Taking a seat on his mattress, you grabbed the frame and examined it. There was a picture of Jungkook, albeit a bit younger, standing with a man and woman on either side of him and behind him a taller man who looked similar to Jungkook.

You opened the drawer of his table, having to pull hard as it seemed to be off the track. It was empty inside aside from a paper you couldn't read and a bottle of lotion. Humming, you simply pushed the drawer back closed and looked around the room some more.

Deciding there was nothing else worth looking at, you stepped out of his room and shut the door. Boredom struck immediately and you dropped down onto the couch and curled up.

The least you could do is take a nap.

Your rest didn't last long because you were startled awake by violent knocks on the door. From outside, you could hear Jungkook calling your name. Jumping to your feet, you scrambled to unlock the door and let him in. He sounded so panicked that your hands were shaking by the time you slid the latch lock open.

Jungkook burst in the second the door was open and promptly fell to the ground with a groan. You shut the door and shakily locked it again before turning to him.

"J-Jungkook? What happened?" You crouched down and helped him pull his backpack off.

He winced, making a hissing noise the second he was made to move. You gasped, noticing the way that he was holding his side — red seeping through his fingers.

"Oh my god, what happened?!" You cried, hands hovering above him not knowing what to do.

"J-Just a stupid accident," He groaned, the back of his head hitting the floor harshly when he tossed it back. The impact didn’t seem to bother him. "Was chasin' some animal and I fell. Caught myself on some scrap metal on the way down."

"Holy crap, how bad is it?" You urged him to move his hand so you could see his wound.

The metal had torn a hole in his shirt and you could see a deep gash across his ribs. There was blood gushing from it and you were worried about the possibility of infection.

"It needs to be cleaned and probably stitched, Jungkook," You muttered, watching him put his hand back over it to slow the bleeding.

"I don't have t-to clean it or stitch it," His eyebrows were drawn together and his jaw was clenched in pain.

"I have a first aid kit in my backpack," You stood up quickly, ignoring his protests, dashing over to where your backpack was leaning against the wall.

Zipping it open, you began to fish through your belongings searching for the little white box. You pulled out a towel, deciding it might be good to help clean him up some. You made a soft sound when you finally spotted the kit, pulling it out and holding it up in triumph.

Sitting beside Jungkook again, you helped him remove his shirt. There were a few tattoos and scars scattered along his chest and abdomen but you didn't have time to ogle at his naked body. You pressed the spare towel against his wound and apologized as he hissed in pain. His hand was covered red in blood — some of it having dripped down his wrist to his elbow. You noticed that his mask was gone as well.

"Okay, I'm going to put some antiseptic on it alright?" You asked, pulling the towel off slightly. "It's going to burn like...really bad but—"

"Just do it," He groaned. "Nothing can top this pain right now."

You sighed and ripped open an alcohol wipe. The second it touched the wound, Jungkook's entire body jerked and he let out a sharp word in his mother tongue that you assumed was a cuss. In another situation, you would have laughed at the reaction. Next, you cleaned it with some hydrogen peroxide, making sure to flush the wound as best you could.

"Wh-Where did you learn to do this?" He asked, voice tight with pain.

"Well...I have just basic knowledge from things I've seen on like TV and..stuff like that. So I don't actually know if I'm doing it right or not," You whispered. "But the point is it's getting cleaned, right?"

"Shit, I guess you're right," He mumbled, eyes focused on the ceiling above him.

"I-It's still bleeding, it really will need stitches...it's so deep," You whispered, watching as blood continued to seep through.

"Can you do it?" He asked.

"I don't know...the only thing we can do is try, right?" You were lucky you had a full first aid kit, complete with a sterile needle and thread.

It was quite dark and you had to lean close to see the edges of the wound. You took it slow, apologizing to Jungkook whenever the needle pierced the torn skin. Little by little, the wound was closed until you managed to tie a tight knot to ensure the stitches wouldn't open back up.

Sitting back, you let out a sigh of relief. "I have some pain medicine," You said, taking out a few tablets of Ibuprofen from the first aid kit.

"Thanks," He popped them in his mouth, wincing as he had to swallow them dry.

Then was a big sigh, his body finally relaxed against the floor. He blinked slowly, as if he was struggling to stay awake. You assumed his adrenaline rush crashed and he was growing tired — no doubt exhausted from the adrenaline crash.

"This is insane," He mumbled suddenly, voice sounding slurred.

"What is?" You questioned.

"Before I would just think of getting myself home safe and that'd be the end of it," His lashes fluttered as he fought the sleep that threatened to overtake him. "But this time...all I could think was that I had to get back to you so you would be safe. Unbelievable."

You couldn't help but smile, though he missed it as his eyes finally closed. In a matter of moments, his breathing evened out and you knew he fell asleep.

Right on the floor.

Chuckling, you shook your head and wandered to his bedroom to pull the blanket off his bed — just a thin throw blanket and one of his pillows. You returned to him and carefully, doing your best not to wake him, placed the pillow beneath his head and the blanket over his body.

Your own exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you curled up on the couch, your own eyes shutting as you stared at Jungkook's sleeping form.

When you woke up, it was on your own. You saw Jungkook was still asleep and sighed. Quickly pulling yourself up, you wandered over to him. Sitting down, you peeled the blanket off of him. You moved his arm off his chest so you could look at his wound but you let out a harsh gasp at what you saw. Jungkook's eyes immediately popped open and sharply turned to look at you.

"What is it?" He asked, body relaxing when he realized it was just you.

"Y-Your wound..." You leaned down to get a closer look, looking at your uneven stitching over the red skin.

"What about it?" He hummed, looking down to take a look at himself.

"It's healed up..." Beneath the stitches, the skin was still reddened but there was no sign of the open wound that was once there. Just a puffy looking scar was left in its wake.

"Oh good," He sat up and stretched his arms — his joints popping at the action, making him groan. "Hand me my backpack, yeah?"

"What do you mean good?! Yesterday you were bleeding out on the floor a-and now you're acting like it's just okay?!" You cried, throwing your hands up in frustration.

He stared at you for a moment, looking confused before sighing. He rolled over and grabbed his backpack, pulling it into his lap and digging through.

"Eat something and then we'll talk, okay?" He pulled out a bar of something and when you opened it, it resembled a granola bar but was much softer.

When you took a bite, you were surprised that it tasted like meat. But it wasn't bad. Jungkook pulled out his own and quietly began eating. It was silent between the two of you, as you simply ate. Before long, you were finished and Jungkook simply threw the wrappers into his backpack.

"Now will you tell me?" You muttered, raising a brow when he sighed.

He stood up and moved over to the couch, leaving you kneeling beside his makeshift bed. He sat down and looked at you expectantly, making you rise to your feet and stumble over to sit beside him.

"I guess there's no reason to hide it," You scanned over him as he spoke, taking the opportunity to look over his body again. He was fit, no doubt, with faint abs and lovely, veiny forearms.

"So you have super healing abilities?" You asked quietly.

"We...our species produces a chemical naturally that can heal virtually anything," He explained. "It's in any fluid we excrete; even sweat. And it's in our blood, obviously."

"That's amazing..." You whispered, eyes drifting back to his wound. "Why did you let me take care of it if you knew it was going to heal up?"

"I...Because the other planets use us for it," He muttered, fists clenching. "Do you remember what I told you? About the Vorderans?" You nodded and he continued, "They...collected us for the chemical. They produce the highest quality super medicine in the solar system. And it's because they slaughtered thousands of us to get it."

"So...you didn't trust me to tell me?" You asked, though there was no tone to indicate you were trying to guilt him.

"No," He sighed. "But since you did take care of me...I figured I could at least give it a try, right?"

"Thank you, Jungkook," You smiled. "I'm really happy you're okay, you know. I was really worried. Without you, I'd be doomed here."

"That's very true," He smirked, relaxing into the couch. "You're absolutely helpless!"

"Hey!" You pouted. "You could teach me, you know?"

"Teach you how to survive out there?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. You nodded and he shook his head. "You're too much of a target. I wouldn't be able to handle looking after you and trying to scavenge."

"I guess that's true," You muttered. "I just don't want to be a burden. You went out of your way to help me and I've done nothing in return for the fact you keep helping me."

He wore a frown as he looked at you. "You're not a burden. In fact, I actually appreciate having you around."

"You do?" You asked, your heart stuttering in your chest as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.

"Yeah," He smiled. "I hadn't realized how lonely I was. But with you here now, I feel a lot...happier. Lighter. It feels nice to not be alone."

"I...I'm happy I can make you feel that way, Jungkook," You whispered, meeting his eyes.

The two of you sat like that in silence. You felt a soft brush of Jungkook's fingers on your hand and he easily laced his fingers through yours.

You felt content; happy even.

You were curled up on the couch, unable to sleep through the howling sound of the wind outside. Rain was pouring down and the thunder was so loud your ears were ringing. Clouds blocked out the moon, blanketing you in complete and total darkness.

It was cold, Jungkook still hadn't given you a blanket and you were beginning to think he forgot. The storm had brought the temperature down drastically, leaving your teeth chattering in effect.

The storm was unlike anything you'd experienced on Earth. It was actually a bit scary.

You sat up, finally unable to take it anymore. There was no reason for you to suffer like you were.

You tiptoed over to Jungkook's bedroom and suddenly hesitated. You didn't want to wake him up for a silly blanket, you'd feel bad. Your shoulders sagged and you turned back to sit back down on the couch.

Somehow, you managed to doze off, curled up in a ball in an attempt to keep warm.

You were awoken very soon after by the weight of something warm being laid upon you. Eyes fluttering open, you met Jungkook's eyes. His brows were furrowed and when he saw you were awake, knelt down beside the couch.

"You're freezing, why didn't you ask me for a blanket?" He whispered, mindlessly tucking the blanket around you.

"I-I didn't want to wake you," You mumbled, voice wobbly from shivering.

"Don't worry about that," He grumbled. "I'd rather you wake me up than fucking freeze to death during a storm."

"I'm sorry," You whispered, eyes fluttering again as you finally warmed up. It felt so cozy beneath the blanket and it smelled just like Jungkook. "Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't worry about it," He whispered, brushing some stray hair off your face as your eyes closed once again.

"It's my duty to take care of you now," He uttered once he was sure you were asleep.

The first time you noticed something was wrong was when you began to get dizzy randomly — usually accompanying a roaring headache. You ignored it, however, choosing to nap off the headache and continue your days on like usual.

Jungkook began going out for scavenging more and more — bringing home killed rodents and other animals. Sometimes he would come home with some rations or a snack from when the world was a functioning metropolis.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked one morning while the two of you ate some breakfast you prepared.

"Huh?" You looked up from your plate at him.

He was gazing at you, brows furrowed as usual but his head was cocked to the side. "You just look really dazed. And you're barely touching your food."

"Ah, I just..." You cleared your throat. "I lost my appetite, I guess."

"Well, I'm going to go out again today," He said, eating the last of what was on his plate. "I'll be back tonight as usual, alright?"

"Yeah, be careful okay?" You whispered, watching as he hesitated staring at you.

He lifted his hand and placed it softly on your head, smiling.

"I'll see you soon."

Left alone, you ate as much of the food as you could before you had to toss it. You found yourself laying on the couch once again, feeling sluggish and lazy. Deciding a nice nap was in order, you let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke back up, it felt like you were hit by a bus. You groaned, your head pounding making you whine. Sitting up proved to be a bad move as you felt your stomach turn. Immediately you let yourself flop back down.

Of course you'd get sick on a dystopian planet with no access to medicine.

The hours ticked by and there was no sign of Jungkook. You'd gotten accustomed to his schedule and the general time frame you both ran in so you knew he was well overdue for his return.

You became antsy, pacing around and taking naps when you could. The cold you'd acquired seemed to only get worse as you were plagued with an unfortunate fever. Hiding under your blanket didn't help and being out from the blanket didn't help either. You whined, knowing you didn't have any medicine to help break your fever.

Feeling crappy and concerned about Jungkook made tears sting your eyes; you were always a cry baby when sick.

The door opening finally is what woke you up. Jungkook grumbled, slamming the door.

"Why the hell wasn't the door properly locked?" He snapped, dropping his bag on the floor with a bang.

"Hey...that's loud," You whined, flinching at the way your head began to pound.

"Answer me—hey...what's the matter?" He asked, losing his anger for concern.

"I'm sick," You complained, watching as he kneeled down.

"Sick?" He mumbled, looking over your face — noticing your glassy eyes.

"I have a fever," You explained with a sigh.

He hummed, bringing his hand up to press his palm against your forehead. He hissed, pulling back and sighing.

"I was so scared you weren't coming back, you were gone so long," You whispered, shakily sitting up.

Jungkook's hands hovered in the air, ready to help or catch you if you fell. "I'm sorry, I went a little further than I usually do. But I was only gone overnight. It wasn't that long."

"It felt like days," You whined, tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing some hair away from your eye. "I didn't mean to upset you so much."

"It's okay, I'm just...a crybaby," You muttered, cheeks flushing at the fond smile that crossed Jungkook's face — a cute bunny-like smile.

"I...can help you feel better, if you'd let me," He asked, moving to sit beside you on the couch. "My species can cure illnesses, remember?"

"How will you do that?" You asked, voice a little slurred.

"Well..." In the moon's illumination, you could see his ears burning red. "I...I can kiss you?"

Your mind blanked at those words, blinking several times to take in what he said. You recalled what he said about his saliva, or any fluid, possessing the chemical to cure illnesses. Still, despite the fact it was for medicinal purposes, your stomach fluttered with butterflies and your heart stuttered in your chest the idea of kissing him.

"I-I don't mind..." You uttered, subconsciously licking your lips.

He cupped your cheek, leaning down and ever so softly brushed his lips against yours. When you sighed happily at the contact, he surged forward and pulled you into a much deeper kiss. Your lips moved in unison and you couldn't help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck.

Shuddering, you held in a whimper when his tongue met your lips. You eagerly opened your mouth, shuddering as the taste of him lingered upon your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his hair as you continued to deepen the kiss.

After several long, lovely seconds of the kiss — he finally pulled away. There was a small strand of saliva still connecting the two of you. He brushed his thumb across your lips, breaking the strand.

The two of you sighed, falling silent but he kept his hand on your cheek.

"You should rest now, you'll feel better soon," He whispered, standing up and stepping away.

You missed his touch immediately, and watched him until he disappeared behind his bedroom door.

You curled up under the blanket, fingers pressed to your lips as the feeling of him kissing you lingered. The way your heart began to race made you sigh heavily; what an effect he had on you.

The next day, you were feeling much better and were back to eating properly. You could tell Jungkook was happy; he was positively beaming and smiling at you every chance he got.

It was cute.

The two of you were playing a card game; using some cards you'd had in your bag for when you were bored on the trip through Fanet IV. You were teaching him Earth games and how to play.

You were just about to beat him for the 5th time at Go Fish when there was a heavy knock on the door. Both of you jumped and Jungkook was on his feet in a second.

His whole body was tense and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He carefully moved in front of you, shielding your body from the door subconsciously.

"Wh-What is it?" You asked, keeping your voice low.

"No one should come here," He whispered back. "Go hide in the bedroom, alright?"

"But Jungkook—"

"Just do it!" He snapped, giving a gentle push to your back to urge you into the open doorway.

You spared him a longing glance before he pulled the door shut with a soft click.

You took a seat on his bed, listening through the thin walls as Jungkook's heavy footsteps moved towards the door. There was a loud click as he unlocked the deadbolt.

There was a quick beat of silence before a slam so loud that you had to cover your mouth to keep from shrieking.

"Fuck! What the fuck are you doing here?!" You heard Jungkook shout.

"Followed you home," Came a gruff, almost bored-sounding reply. "You weren't very smart. Didn't even notice you were being tailed."

"Fuck," You heard Jungkook swear.

"Now, I hope you make this easy for me and just come along nicely," The stranger asked. “Maybe if you tell me where more are hiding, I'll go easy on you.”

Jungkook didn't offer a reply but you could hear heavy boots approaching the bedroom door. You kept your hands over your mouth to keep from making a peep as you slid off the bed and huddled yourself into a dark corner.

The stranger suddenly shrieked and there was a heavy thud of someone falling to the floor. Jungkook let out a string of curses before there was a crash, grunting and scuffling filling your ears.

What was going on?

From where you hid, you could see a little box beneath Jungkook's bed. As quietly as you could, you pulled it out and opened it up.

It was an array of several different knives. Eyes flicking over to the door, you hatched an idea to hopefully help.

If Jungkook didn't win, the man was going to take him away. The mere thought of that happening sent a spark of terror through you.

Picking up the biggest knife that was in the box, you tiptoed over to the door. You could still hear the two of them fighting, the sound covering up the soft click of the door opening. Peeking through the crack, you were shocked to see the table smashed completely. The man was pinning Jungkook down by his throat. Jungkook was struggling, obviously unable to get air. The stranger laughed mockingly down at him.

Your hands and knees were trembling as you quickly crept out.

"You barely even put up a fight," The stranger spat at Jungkook. "You Heajix never were able to take us on though, isn't that right? That's why we were able to kill so many of you! Such incredible strength yet still unable to protect yourselves. Pathetic.”

You couldn't even register his words as you finally stood behind him. Jungkook's eyes were fluttering and he was dangerously close to passing out.

Steeling yourself, you raised the knife overhead and brought it down as hard as you could. The man shrieked so loud that your ears were ringing. The knife was stuck in his back, buried more than halfway through. Part of you felt proud for putting the power behind the attack.

Jungkook let out a desperate gasp, finally getting the oxygen he desperately needed. While you were distracted looking at Jungkook, the strange man spun around and grabbed you by your throat.

"I knew there was someone else here," The man snarled, squeezing your neck as hard as he could.

You couldn't even make a sound of pain as your feet were lifted off the ground. Your vision was swimming but you could make you Jungkook getting to his feet. The man, you noticed, had strange glowing eyes — as if a light were coming from behind them and illuminating the whites.

In the blink of an eye, Jungkook ripped the knife from your assailants back — making him drop you in shock. You hit the ground hard, knocking what little air you had left in you right out.

Jungkook was on the man before he could even blink, stabbing him several times until he was on his knees. Jungkook paused, chest and shoulders heaving as he glared down at the man.

Then, you watched with wide eyes as Jungkook lifted his leg and kicked the man so hard his body physically flew back. The man was limp, blood dripping from his mouth and nose — eyes open and unseeing.

"Holy shit..." You whispered from where you were still laying on the floor.

"Are you alright?" Jungkook asked, helping you sit up with a gentleness that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. His hands were coated in the intruders blood but you didn't mind.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you knocked him down on his butt. You hugged him tight, sighing when you felt him wrap his own arms around you.

"I-I didn't know what to do," You whispered. "He was saying he was going to take you away. I saw you were about to pass out and I knew he would take you. I'm sorry I got involved."

"Hey, it's okay," Jungkook pulled back and smiled. "You saved me! Maybe you aren't as helpless as I thought."

You smiled, shaking your head. Then, without thinking, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He froze for a fraction of a second but quickly cupped the back of your head and returned the kiss.

When you parted, you asked, "So what do we do with him?"

"The Vorderans are going to come looking for him when they notice he's not reported back to them," Jungkook mumbled, looking over his shoulder at the body. "I'll take him out somewhere and dump him off where they won't be able to link it to me."

"You're going to leave right after that?" You asked, your shoulders slumping.

"I shouldn't be gone long, _____," He smiled, brushing his thumb over your pouted lips.

"But what if there are more of them? What if they take you away and I don't even know!"

As if sensing the panic in your voice, he cupped your cheeks and brought your gaze to him.

"That won't happen," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead — sending your heart into painful palpitations. "It'll be easier to hide out there and easier to lose them if they do find me. I promise, I'll come back and everything will be okay."

"I'm just...scared, Jungkook," You admitted, feeling your eyes burn.

"I know," He sighed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your cheeks immediately felt like they were on fire. "But I would never leave you like that."

You clung onto him as long as he allowed you before he decided it was best to get going. He told you to hide in his room until he got back and to just rest.

"Don't open the door," He warned, though he already knew he didn't have to worry about that.

Left alone, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You'd watched Jungkook lift the body like it was nothing — which only reminded you of what the Vorderan has said; Heajix just had incredible physical strength.

You had a much better concept of time since you weren't sick and you were sure 2 days had passed since you'd last seen Jungkook. You could barely sleep, anxiety plaguing every second that he was gone.

You'd taken to sleeping in his bed, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. Thankfully, Jungkook had managed to stock up on food so you were able to properly eat in his absence. Though it was more a mechanical task to pass the time than it was for actually sustaining you.

It hadn't occurred to you how much he had changed until you were laying in his bed one night. You thought back to the rough, cold exterior he had when you first met him. And now you were blessed with his smile and comforting caresses.

He made your heart ache in the best way and you wanted to hold him and have him kiss you over and over again. He was so sweet and did his best to take care of you.

You'd really been lucky that he was around when he was that night.

The fact he hadn't returned didn't help quell the fears of more Vorderans being around just waiting for someone to come around. For a Heajix to take away.

You didn't think you would hate an alien planet over the sake of another alien race but you knew the Heajix had been treated unfairly. It was cruel and the fact it was just allowed to happen and no one cared really made you angry.

If you ever got back to Earth you were going to do something to help.

You were lost thinking about the things you could do to help when the front door clicked open.

A spark of fear went down your spine as you sat straight up in the bed. Through the door and walls, you could hear heavy footsteps moving around.

They moved to the door and paused. You held your breath, pulling the covers up to your chin as you watched the door creak open.

A black head of fluffy hair popped in and smiled when he saw you sitting there.

"I was wondering where you—!" He was cut off by you flying off the bed and throwing yourself into his arms.

"You're home!" You gasped, burying your face in his neck. You didn't bother fighting the tears that tumbled down your cheeks.

"Yeah..." You could hear the smile in his voice as he wrapped his arms around you, fisting the back of your shirt tightly as if you would slip away. "I'm home."

"I was so worried and..." Your cheeks burned before you muttered, "I missed you."

Reaching up, he cupped both your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him. You leaned into the feeling of his touch on your skin as he wiped your tears away ever so carefully. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

"I missed you too," He smiled, pecking your lips again. "But I'm back just like I promised I would be. I told you I'd never leave you, right?"

"You're right," You whispered, moving forward to kiss him again. He eagerly reciprocated and you whined into his lips.

He gripped your hips, rough and harsh. You winced, pulling your lips away slightly only for him to chase them — muttering a soft apology before relaxing his grip.

Neither of you wasted time moving to the bed. With your back pressed against the mattress and his wide shoulders above you, you couldn’t help the shiver running down your spine.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down for another kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” He breathed against your lips.

“Please,” You whispered, reaching down to tug at the hem of his dirty shirt.

“So pretty when you beg,” He growled, sitting up on his knees to pull the shirt off.

Immediately, your hands were roaming across his chest — grazing over scars and tattoos.

He groaned when your fingers brushed over his pebbled nipples. Leaning down, he nipped against the sensitive skin of your neck. As you sighed in pleasure, he began to push your own shirt up until he was able to toss it away.

Sitting up, he let out a curse at the sight of your bare breasts. One large hand cupped one, thumb rolling the nipple harshly until you whimpered. His lips moved down your neck to take the other nipple into his hot mouth, tongue flicking the bud. Your hands wound into his hand, back arching to get more of the delicious feeling.

“Jungkook, please…” You whined, arching your hips upwards. “I-I want you so much.”

“Yeah?” He groaned against your breast, moving to take your other perked nipple into his mouth. “Who would have figured I’d already have you begging?”

“I missed you so much, Jungkook,” You whined, sniffling softly as the emotions came rushing back. “I need you to touch me, please.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” He whispered, leaning back up to peck your lips.

In one swift move, your pants were tugged down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He hummed cupping your heat through the fabric, easily finding your clit and pressing against it. You sighed, head rolling back as you ground your hips down into his touch. Unable to take it, you reached down and tugged your panties off. He allowed you, watching as you kicked them away and spread your legs for him.

“Fuck,” He groaned, dropping onto his stomach between your legs. “So pretty and wet.”

Your legs trembled as he slid two fingers between your folds, spreading them to expose your leaking entrance. He groaned, low in his chest before quickly diving in to catch some of your arousal on his tongue. You sighed, eyes fluttering close as he swirled his tongue over your clit.

“Ah, Jungkook!” You cried, gripping his hair.

“Fuck,” He growled, pulling back slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“G-Gentle,” You whined, gripping his hair tighter. “It’s sensitive.”

He didn’t respond, simply chuckled before diving back in. He took your clit into his mouth and sucked until your back arched. Soon, he introduced his fingers — easily sliding two in. There was a slight burn but it lasted only a second.

“You can take 3, right?” He chuckled, rolling his tongue over your clit. “You’re gonna need that many to even think of trying to take my knot.”

“Kn-Knot?” You gasped, unable to wrap your head fully around his words as he pumped the two digits in and out.

Your hips bucked when he hit your g-spot. Your eyes rolled as he continued to abuse the spot while playing with your clit in any way he could.

“I’m gonna cum soon, Kook,” You whined, unaware the pet name had slipped through your lips.

He growled, viciously pounding his fingers upwards and suckling your clit into his mouth. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your stomach. Opening your eyes, you looked down to see his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He looked like he was in utopia himself.

What broke the cord, however, was when he eased the third finger into you. You gasped, back arching as you cried out his name — cumming around the digits. He didn’t stop, fucking your spasming hole and sucking on your twitching clit throughout your entire high until you were whining and pushing him away.

He separated his mouth from you with a lewd pop and slid his fingers out. You felt empty, clenching around nothing as he popped his cum soaked fingers in his mouth. His eyes rolled back at your taste and he chased what was left on his lips until there was nothing left of your cum.

He stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them slide to the floor until he could step out of them. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and you nearly drooled at the sight of his hard cock— weeping at the flushed, red tip with a soft swell at the base of his cock.

You scooted forward on your knees, wrapping your hand around his shaft and leaning forward to slide your tongue of the slit. He sighed, head falling back on his shoulders as you took the thick head on your mouth and sucked. The taste of his precum was delectable — salty-sweet with a bitter tang.

“You’ll make me cum too fast with your pretty lips on me like that, baby,” He whispered, gripping your hair to pull you away.

You whined at the loss but let him urge you onto your back. Your feet hanging off the end of the bed and Jungkook standing at the end with a fist wrapped around his cock made you lick your lips. He looked so powerful standing over you like he was.

“Scoot back,” He ordered, crawling onto the bed after you.

With your head in the pillows, you spread your legs for him. Knees on either side of his waist, you both looked down to watch as he slid the head of his cock between your wet folds — coating himself in your juices. A split second of hesitation as he positioned his tip at your entrance felt like an eternity.

“Are you sure you want to…?” He asked softly, mindlessly slapped your clit with the head of himself.

“Please,” You gasped, wrapping your hand in his hair to tug him down.

Your mouths simultaneously fell open as he pressed inside, the fat head spreading your walls open. The sound was wet as he sunk inside, dirty and obscene. Your eyes rolled back as he finally bottomed out — the base of him almost as thick as his head.

He dropped down onto his elbows beside your head, pulling you in for another kiss as he began to thrust in and out of your clenching walls.

Every time he sunk inside, he grazed your g-spot making you moan.

“So fucking tight,” He growled. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my knot, babygirl.”

“K-Kook—”

“Fuck!” He snarled, cock twitching at the sound of the nickname, slamming his cock into you harshly, making you whined. “Keep calling me that.”

“Kook!” You cried, scrambling to claw at his muscled back.

“I’m gonna knock you up, beautiful,” He breathed, chuckling when he felt you clench around him. “Oh? You like the sound of that? Tell me.”

“Pl-Please kn-knock me up, Kook,” You begged, voice breathy as you fought back sobs of pleasure.

“Yeah, sound so pretty begging for my cum,” He chuckled, reached down to find your swollen clit. “How about you cum for me first?”

Your mouth fell open as everything became even more intense. He didn’t stop the rapid circles on your clit until you were crying out his name and arching. You gushed around him, walls spasming uncontrollably as he fucked you through the high.

As you came down, everything became more intense and sensitive. Every time he sunk inside, the base of his cock would catch at your entrance and stretch you just a tad more. You clung to him, eyes closed as he fucked his knot into your sensitive walls.

“I’m gonna cum,” He warned, suddenly pausing balls deep — his knot popped into your walls, swollen big enough that he couldn't pull back out.

You could feel his cock as it pulsed inside of you — a hot rush of cum immediately following. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he moaned and trembled above you. The knot at the base of his cock throbbed — urging more and more cum out of his cock.

He chuckled darkly, looking down at your swelling tummy — having been stuffed full of his cum that couldn’t escape around his knot.

Your cunt clenched around him and you whined. You felt so full but it felt so good.

Jungkook's nimble fingers found your clit and began to circle the hardened bud in brutal circles. With a dark smirk on his lips, he met your gaze where your eyes were wide and your mouth was open in a silent moan.

"That's it...give it to me, baby," He ordered, grinding his hips against you — his knot and cock stirring your sensitive walls up. “Cum on my knot for me, like a good girl.”

Your head fell back against the pillow as your back arched. The both of you moaned in unison at your orgasm, the tight squeeze and gush from your orgasm set him off again. Tightening his grip on your hips made you whine but the pain blended into the pleasure as Jungkook's knot throbbed as more cum poured into your already well-filled cunt. Slowly, his body relaxed and he heaved a sigh before beginning to change your positions.

His knot tugged at your walls, making you both hiss. You laid side by side, your head resting on his arm.

As you both caught your breath, you felt his knot slowly shrink until he was able to pull out completely. You whimpered at the gush of cum that followed — oozing out of your stretched entrance and staining the bed beneath you.

He groaned, dropping back onto his stomach between your legs. Feeling embarrassed, you moved to close your legs but his strong hands caught you and forced them back open. You covered your face with your hands and whined as he suddenly slid his tongue across your cum-soaked folds.

Absolutely obscene sounds of him moaning and licking you clean filled the space. Your hips jerked in oversensitivity whenever he brushed over your clit.

Sliding his tongue into your entrance, he caught and swallowed down everything he could reach. Him eating his own cum out of you had your walls clenching again and he chuckled before pulling away.

Pulling your hands away from your heated cheeks, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You whined, circling your arms around his neck as he fed his cum into your mouth for you to swallow.

You moaned at the taste of him, swallowing everything he gave you — continuing to kiss long after you swallowed it. The remnants of his cum lingered on your tongue and on his lips.

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours and moved to lay on his side beside you once again. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled your body close to his.

The two of you dissolved into a comfortable silence; his fingers tracing random shapes along your skin and you taking in his sweet scent and enjoying the warmth of his arms around you.

You were sitting with Jungkook on the floor in front of the couch. Since the table was broken, the two of you were using the couch as a makeshift table. He had an array of papers and old book across the surface and had been spending the last two days teaching you to read the Heajix written alphabet. It was difficult and you frequently confused letters but Jungkook was patient — and gave you kisses whenever you got something right which was great incentive.

Unfortunately, the relaxing atmosphere was broken by a series of knocks on the front door. Jungkook was on his feet immediately, knife drawn and at the ready.

You stayed back, watching as he approached the door and slowly unlocked it. You watched as he took a deep breath and threw the door open.

"What—" Jungkook was at a loss. There was a man standing at the door with his hands up to show he was unarmed.

"My name is Hakyeon," He said, motioning to his badge. "I work for the Interplanetary Embassy on Earth. We received an Emergency beacon and we've been told the human was here."

"Holy shit! It actually got through?!" You cried, jumping to your feet and running over to the open door. "Why did it take you so damn long?"

Hakyeon looked confused, shaking his head. "We received it only 2 days ago...I was the nearest representative and was tasked with finding you."

"Weird..." You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders. "I guess I can go home now, right?"

"If that's what you wish still, yes," He replied, eyeing Jungkook by your side.

"Um," You cleared your throat. "Your ship will be nearby right?"

"Yes, I'll...wait for you there," Hakyeon said, taking the hint.

The door shut and Jungkook was silent.

"Jungkook—"

"I guess you're leaving, right?" He asked, keeping his eyes down. "There's no logical reason for me to ask you to stay here...it's dangerous and you should be somewhere safe."

"But Jungkook..." You reached forward to touch him but he backed away.

"If I'm honest, ______," He wandered away, leaving you to watch him. His voice was shaky, wobbling with the onslaught of tears. "I really don't want you to go and I know that's selfish! But I really don't think I can be alone again. Especially after finding someone I can actually love."

"Jungkook!" You snapped, making him look at you. You sighed speedily walking up to him and pressing your lips to his before he could back away. "I love you too."

"But—"

"Come with me," You whispered, clutching the front of his shirt in your hands. "Come back to Earth with me. We'll find someone there who will help. The Embassy would be more than willing to assist in the cleanup and protection of Palacios and Heajix. You can speak for everyone here who is struggling to survive and those you haven't."

"You want me to come with you?" He breathed, covering your hands with his. Tears still fell from his eyes but in a matter of seconds, he was smiling and pulling you against him in a hug so tight it knocked the air out of you.

"Of course I do, stupid!" You laughed, hugging him back as tight as you could. "Why would I leave you when you refused to leave me, huh?"

"...I love you," He whispered, giving you another kiss.

"Let's get our things together," You said before the two of you separated.

Jungkook packed his bag with anything important, sentimental or not. You noticed he packed his picture away with a sad smile.

Once the two of you were ready, you took his hand and walked out the door. He paused and looked behind him, at the house he'd been living in for the longest time. The boarded up windows and the water reservoir he'd spent ages perfecting.

You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. He smiled, taking the first step away.

You felt yourself relax against the seat once the two of you were on the craft. Jungkook was gripping your hand tight — it was hurting a bit but you didn't say anything. His gaze was locked on the window, watching as his home planet disappeared from view.

The surface was covered in a green, gaseous layer of pollution and smog that he seemed almost surprised to see. The pollution of the planet was most evident one outside of the planet's atmosphere.

"I'm happy you're here, Jungkook," You whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I am too," He replied, resting his head against yours as he watched the stars and planets pass by until Palacios was out of view.

#btssmutclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jeongguk smut #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk imagines #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan fanfic

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mammonprotectionsquad · 3 years

Note

Soft sentence starter "I'll protect you" and Lucifer? I don't know if you've already done this one or not

I have not done this one for him yet. Thanks for requesting it :3

I thought I wouldn't go with the... Let's call it "obvious" way most would expect? Idk xD but I do hope you like this 😊

"I'll protect you."

Lucifer x GN!Reader

Sometimes Lucifer felt like Lord Diavolo planned all those extra things on purpose, making more and more documents pile up on his desk. The chance to get some rest seemingly disappearing into thin air.

After dropping his pen, he pressed two fingers into his temples, trying to fight against the headache he knew would come rather soon.

It was tempting to just burn the documents, pretend that he'd never gotten them to begin with. But of course he'd never do that. It would've simply had to remain a small, little fantasy of his.

He got pulled out of his thoughts by a soft knock, before the door already got opened. The sight of you enough to make him feel at least a bit better, especially with the smile you aimed at him.

"I brought you some more coffee", you announced cheerfully.

Once you put the cup down on his desk, he didn't waste any time to pull you into his lap. His arms nearly locking around your waist, while he buried his face on your neck. Having you close, or just simply in the same room, was for some reason already enough to help recharge his batteries. He wasn't entirely sure why, but at the same time he didn't care and wouldn't waste his time on questioning it.

"Thank you, my love..."

When you ran a hand through his hair, his eyes fluttered shut and he instinctively leaned into the touch.

"More paperwork for you, huh?", you asked and he only hummed in affirmation. "Mhm... I'll help you."

Slowly, he pulled back again to be able to look at you again, one brow raised.

"Oh? And what do you have in mind?"

"Easy. I'll protect you!" You said it so casually, yet with so much confidence, it threw him off for a moment.

Though after just staring at you, Lucifer couldn't help but chuckle lowly. How was it allowed for one human to be that adorable?

"Protect me?", he repeated in amusement, as he cupped your cheek in his gloved hand. "Protect me from what exactly? The paperwork?"

"Kind of. I'll make sure you won't work yourself into exhaustion. Again. And maybe I'll ask Diavolo to go easy on you and give you at least one day off."

"MC..."

"Nope, you can't talk me out of it! You need to rest, Lucifer. Please? For me?"

Even when he let out a long sigh, he was well aware that he couldn't say no to you. Especially when you were caring so much about his well being. Causing his heart to skip a beat and a warmth to spread through his body.

Gently grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb, he pulled you in for a kiss, at the same time pulling you a little closer to his chest.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it", he murmured against your lips.

"Anything for my favorite demon~ Want me to stay here a little longer with you?"

"If you wouldn't mind. I'd like that, yes", he said, stealing another kiss afterwards.

Just like that, continuing with his work wasn't all that bad anymore.

Masterlist

If you'd like to get added to the tag list, please let me know 💕

@the-purpleblushh @sweeneyblue1 @duhsies @thegrimgrinningghost

#request #soft sentence starters #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me oneshot #obey me fanfic #obey me reader insert #my writing

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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Library

A/n: so this chapter has been long-awaited by some and i hope you guys enjoy it! the series will really start moving after this so i would love to hear what you guys think of the chapter! Sorry about any typos- i didn't have time to edit this with all my schoolwork this week! Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @hongjoong-a-holic

RBTL Tag List: @bluejayboys @wonderlandless @introverted-stay24 @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @studioreader

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.9k

Summary: True love has never come easy; life makes sure of that. From unrequited love to missed timing, does anyone have any hope at finding success- let alone pass History at the same time? All these questions leave young people wondering….will they still love me in the morning?

❖

Third POV

Y/n’s eyes grew tired as words about some minuscule event in history floated off the page of her textbook. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck-the bones cracking softly as her stiff neck rolled back. The odd silence drew her attention. Curious, she took the headphones from her ears and listened. All she could hear was the sound of raindrops falling against the large windows of the library.

It became quickly clear to the girl that she was alone and the only light in the room was coming from her little desk. “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed out from the second floor and filling the open building. When she heard no response, she shrugged and began pacing up her things to head home.

Though there was no response to the girl’s call there was in fact one lone soul left in the university’s library. One floor directly below Y/n sat a tall and slender boy, books piled high on his desk. Changmin twirled a pen between his fingers before checking his phone. His eyes widened seeing the time. Quickly he stuffed his journals into his bag, leaving his bag only half zipped. Red tuffs of fake hair stuck out as his doll was pushed towards the top of his bag.

The boy did a backtrack wondering if he should put his books away but decided against it knowing if he kept Chanhee and his friends waiting much longer then he might not live to see the midterm. Instead, he turned around and headed for the door- backpack on his shoulder and adjusting the glasses that were falling down his nose.

It seemed fate was entirely focused on these two tonight. Only the storm clouds had a view of the girl walking down the stairs just in time to meet the boy as he stepped onto the main floor. The two shared a brief look- shocked to see another person at this hour, but continued their way to the front doors wordlessly.

Just the sight of the girl had Changmin’s hands starting a nervous sweat. He tried to focus on anything but how pretty he thought she looked with the dim light from the streetlamps outside casting streams of light over her face. As the two students grew closer to the door the sound of the storm outside grew louder. It was also easier for them to see as they neared the larger windows.

Y/n reached out for the door. Surprisingly, she found resistance as she pushed. Again the girl tried, sending an awkward smile to the boy behind her. After pushing multiple times she gave up with a sigh. “I- uh....I think it’s locked.”

“Locked?”

Changmin stepped forward and tried his hand at the closed entranced. He pushed and pulled until retreating, brows furrowed. “What you didn’t believe me?” The girl asked with a breathy laugh. Changmin’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

“What- no! No, not all! I- I- I just...”

“I was just joking, don’t worry.” A timid smile quirked up the corner of the boy's lips. He watched as she shed her bag- placing it against the nearest row of shelves. “Should we try together?” His head moved faster than his mind could process Y/n’s words. He shed his backpack next to hers and the two turned towards the sealed doors.

In his mind, he knew that even with both of their strengths pushing, the industrial locks on the university doors would not break. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” Instead of looking at the boy, she readied herself at the door, palms pressed against the metal bar.

“Oh- I’m..uh...C-Changmin...”

“Well C-Changmin, push on three?” He nodded, finding Y/n’s smile, though small, even more enchanting up close. “One, two, three!”

The two of them pushed with all their might but to no avail. Y/n looked defeated as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her delicate fingers pushed the button but the screen refused to light up.

Changmin had a similar idea. He reached for his own phone. Both of them smiled as it lit up showing the time and 11% battery left. The grin quickly fell as he realized there was absolutely no signal. Using his long limbs to his advantage he reached up searching one measly bar.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair. This was the absolute perfect way to end her already stressful and torturous day. She reached for the lamp on a nearby desk but a huge roll of thunder resonated through the building and it suddenly became even darker.

“Well, this is the beginning of a horror movie if I’ve seen one.” Changmin joked, kicking the door with a grin. His smile fell as he turned to see the fearful look on Y/n’s face.

“Dude- why the fuck would you say that!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!” He mentally hit himself over and over. Why did he say that? There was no need to break the silence. The silence was his safety net right now. If he was silent there was absolutely no way he could appear like some weird Freakazoid to her. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, casting brief glances over at the pretty girl he had liked for so long.

The two gradually gravitated towards each other. There was really nowhere else to go. Y/n enjoyed the sound of the storm outside, letting it calm her ever-growing nerves. Changmin resisted the urge to engage in embarrassing small talk.

A bright crash of lightning brightened up the room in sheets just as Y/n’s eye fell on the two backpacks several feet away. Her scream echoed off the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of the Chucky doll peeking its head out of the boy’s bag. Instinctively, she grabbed onto the closest thing- which happened to be Changmin’s hoodie.

Heat flooded every inch of his face and he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands so he settled for keeping them up in the air. Inside his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible. It was like all of his senses were heightened the moment she touched him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Oh...umm...he’s my Chucky.”

“Your what?” She pulled away from him and Changmin instantly missed her touch. The girl all but laughed seeing the blush on his cheeks and his arms still raised in the air almost in surrender.

“My Chucky. You know- like from the movie...”

“Yes, I’ve seen the fucking movie!”

Nervously he adjusted his sweater before shuffling over and gently tucking his doll safely pack in his bag- out of sight from the still shaken girl. “Why are you carrying that around anyway?”

The scare had seemed to lessen the tension between both of them; though Changmin was still very aware of every word and action towards Y/n. “I was headed to a thriller marathon at my friend’s apartment after I finished some studying.” She nodded but in her mind, she wondered how if he had been studying for as long as she had, he did not have tears running down his face and a massive migraine. “I guess I just lost track of the time.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a the boy’s lopsided grin. She found it endearing how one side was always high than the other. The more he smiled at her the more she wanted to take a picture of his little quirk.

Another weighted silence fell between them. Against his better judgment, Changmin began to speak. “I don’t mean to pry...but what were you doing here so late?” For a moment Y/n had forgotten all about her troubles that had been following her for the past month and a half. A visible heaviness pressed down her shoulders.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf and she let herself slide down to the floor. “I gave up on finding a tutor last week. I was hoping some miracle would happen if I read that stupid book long enough.”

At that moment she wasn’t just the girl he had been pining after since he was in braces. Changmin saw the exhaustion. He saw the complete lack of hope. He moved his backpack- which she had sat down next to and took its place.

“What book?” He didn’t need to ask but saved her the embarrassment of telling her that he had been in the room for her lecture with Professor Jeong. Wordlessly she pulled out a book, her hand dipping in the air from the significant weight. “Ah,”

“Good ‘ah’ or bad ‘ah’?”

“I’m not sure which the situation calls for?” He said pushing up his glasses with a little smile.

Changmin’s grin grew a little wider as he heard her laugh. Even sitting in the dark, her smile seemed to fill the room with a warm glow. “At this point, I think I’m just useless.” She pressed her forehead against the cool cover of the book.

She wondered why she found herself so comfortable with this stranger. It felt easier to talk with this boy she had known for twenty minutes than to talk with her closest friends- even her parents. A small shock of something she could only describe as electricity, raced up her arm as the boy’s hand brushed hers. He reached for the book, gently taking it from her hands and opening it to the tabbed page.

“You aren’t useless, Y/n,” His words gave her comfort, wrapping around her like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Changmin chuckled, turning the page. “However, one might find it useful to highlight only the useful information and not the entire page.”

He found it cute looking down at Y/n’s textbook. Most of the passages were marked with yellow highlighter- easy to see even in the growing darkness. Some lines were underlined in red and there were circled statements with question marks all over the page. It was evident that she was in fact trying. Actually, her notes were in more detail than his.

“I just don't understand it.”

“What?”

“All of it.”

“All of history?”

“Sure- let’s go with that.” She shrugged leaning her head back on the bookshelf.

“I think history can be confusing sometimes too.” Changmin let her textbook rest on his lap. The two of them looked out the huge windows in front of them, watching the storm rage on outside. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would light up the library. “You know, I’m in Professor Jeong’s class too.”

“You are?”

Chanhee was right. She had no idea he existed until now and unless he played his cards right, she would forget about him the moment she left this building. “Yeah...I sit two rows behind you.” He watched her eyes widened a little as if she was trying to recall every face she had seen in that classroom. “Actually...to be fully honest...I knew who you were before tonight.”

Her brows furrowed, creating a small crease in the middle of her forehead. Everything about her fascinated Changmin, even down to her smallest expression. Getting a little nervous, he started rummaging through his backpack. As he chose his next words carefully in his mind, Changmin pulled out a half-full plastic water bottle and portable charger he forgot he carried.

Interested in the boy’s previous statement, Y/n watched him with intrigue. “I-uh....” His hands shakily turned on his phone’s flashlight after plugging his phone into the charger. “We went to the same high school. You and I have shared classes since grade nine.” Her jaw dropped a little at his words.

“I feel....like such a bitch.”

“Oh no-” He stuttered, trying to balance the water bottle over his flashlight- creating a makeshift lantern.

“Oh my god, I am the biggest asshole! I’ve never once noticed you in seven years? You must hate me!”

His heart warmed, seeing how bothered she was. He felt a little pride swell in his chest knowing that Sunwoo and Chanee were completely wrong about Y/n. “No, not at all! I just think we had different friend groups that’s all.”

Shrouded in the light from their little water lamp the two of them exchanged old high school gossip that Changmin never quite understood from the outside. “Wait so Miyoung stole Yeonu away from Hajoon?” Changmin covered his mouth in shock, his eyes widening in a cute way.

Y/n smiled and nodded, hand falling on his knee. “Yeah- I know right!”

“And Yeonu was the guy who-”

“Yeah who sold Class 4B the midterm answers!”

Changmin let loose a huge sigh. “Damn- I missed so much in high school by just studying and playing games.” This time a comfortable silence fell between the two students on the floor. By the way her eyes were drooping, Y/n assumed it was about three am.

“Nah you just missed....a whole lot of drama.” She yawned shaking her head to stay awake.

It was then that Changmin’s willpower gave in to the weariness of his body. His brain no longer had control of his mouth at that moment. “What if I tutored you?”

A sleepily smile slid onto Y/n’s face. She turned her head against the shelf to look up at the boy next to her. His hopes fell as she laughed a little. “I need more help than just History.”

“What else?”

“Math, Physics, Psych...”

“I can help you with all of that too!”

Changmin hated how eager he sounded. “What are you? Some kind of genius?” She smiled even though her back was getting sore and the sound of the rain was lulling her to sleep.

“No, just a mathematics major whose parents paid for top tutors until he was sixteen.”

The girl stared at him. Her expression was unclear. In her mind, she knew there had to be some catch. No way was this guy going to tutor her in all the subjects she needed for nothing. “What’s your rate, Genius?”

“Like money?

She nodded, turning to fully face the boy. Y/n waited for some terrible number that was hellbent on destroying her bank account. Changmin on the other hand was panicking trying to decipher what number was high enough to get her to say yes but not low enough to make her think that he wasn’t serious. “Um.....$8?”

“An hour? For four subjects?”

“Yes...”

“DEAL!”

Once again Changmin was frozen as Y/n threw her arms around him in a hug. His hands returned to their familiar place- up in the air, shaking, and far away from her.

The pair spent the next hours with textbooks sprawled around them. Changmin patiently assessed where Y/n was in each of her subjects, surprised how someone of her intelligence was struggling. He found that she was indeed very bright- but simply not understanding the information the way it was being given to her.

Neither of them noticed the rain stopping or even the sun rising with a pink and orange glow coming over the horizon, morning light sliding across the marbled floor. They didn’t even notice the sound of keys being turned in the front doors hours earlier they tried so hard to open.

“What are you kids doing here?” The two students looked up to see one of the librarians standing in the doorway, keys in hand.

They looked at each other before scrambling to grab their things and running out the doors. The warm, wet morning air greeted them as they stumbled outside. The sun was just peaking over the buildings and Y/n smiled at the dew clinging to the bright green blades of grass lining the sidewalks. It was a new day and a new hope filled her chest. “We’re finally out!” Changmin cheered, jumping up and down adorably.

Y/n found it precious that someone so tall and graceful looking could be so clumsy and cute. “Changmin, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think anyone could have explained the Joseon Era principles better.”

“Oh- i-it was nothing.”

“Here,” Taking a pen from her pocket she reached for his right arm and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He took the moment to once again appreciate her beauty up close while the girl wrote her number on his arm. When she was done she placed the pen in his large hand and looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

Changmin vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’ and internally screamed at his brain to remember the numbers to his own phone number. With anything but steady hands, he wrote his number on her forearm and basked in the glow of the smile he received.

“So-uh..I’ll call you? You’ll call me? We can talk about times that work?”

“Yeah! Dates....and what not...Study-dates I mean! Tutoring! Yes.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you are saving my ass.” Y/n cheered as she started to back away towards her dorm.

“So you’ll call me?” He called after her. His feet were planted firmly where he stood for he feared if he moved an inch he might float away.

She laughed, her smile even brighter in the growing daylight. “Or something, yeah!”

“Okay!” He watched Y/n unit she rounded a corner before letting all the joy explode from his body in a fit of jumps, hollers, cheers, dance, and maybe what some might consider singing.

The sun basked in the boy’s glee as he danced and jumped his way down the sidewalk screaming “YES! SHE KNOWS WHO I AM!” His body was no longer sore and his mind was no longer tired. Instead, he ran all the way back to his apartment with a grin that the sun could not compete with.

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presidentbungus · 2 years

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day 3 - Pen Pals

screwed with the format for this one. hopefully it’s remotely readable. i proofread this once and im sending it out now and you cant stop me and good luck. read in a marginally better format on ao3

(this is science party, just for the record)

Hallo Engie! I hope all is going well. Crossing to the workshop just for a question seemed frivolous, so I am having Scout deliver a letter for me—if it is stained or wrinkled in any capacity, you know why.

That said, I am running routine repairs on the Quick-Fix and it seems that the heal serum is not dispensing at optimal amounts—it does not seem to be a problem with the battery, though admittedly that’s all I have checked. Do you know what it could be?

Thank you very much!

Sincerely, Medic

—

hi try flushing the tube with water and check for residue in the backpack get back to me if it works

(P.S. your handwriting is VERY hard to read)

Engie

—

I did what you said and it seems to be working for now! Thank you very much for the advice.

Apologies for the handwriting—I tried to do better here but I suppose to some degree I can’t help it. For future, however, I’d appreciate if you used punctuation. Illegible handwriting or not, there is no excuse for this grammatical inaccuracy to this severe of a degree!

Sincerely, Medic

—

Sorry Scout was rushing me last time. Your handwriting’s still bad. How are you getting him to hold still so long while you write? Tell me your secrets

D.C.

—

Oh, you know. This and that. I’ll give you this: If you tell him enough times that the only thing stopping you from dismembering him limb-from-limb is polite societal convention, eventually he stops arguing with you. It works! Let me know how it goes.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Don’t do that.

—

Come on. Don’t be a dummkoph. It’s just Scout.

Medic

—

I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! never talk too me agian

engy

—

Hi. Sorry it’s been a bit, Scout came into the workshop yelling about something and he kicked the table and left and he didn’t come back after that so I guess he can’t deliver these for us anymore. You’ve probably already noticed I rigged up one of the bad sentry prototypes to wheel itself down to the lab, tell me if it got there and I guess I’ll know if it got back okay, just set a note on the top and if it doesn’t start going back hit it a few times and hopefully it should start working

Dell

—

More or less as I expected. I knew it couldn’t be sustained. I have to say I admire your ingenuity, however. (Is there any particular reason why there is a happy face in permanent marker drawn on the top?)

Attached is also a letter which Scout gave me shortly before his described outburst that I think you will find somewhat interesting. He said he “swore for real Engie wrote it” and then he kicked a table and ran away. Do you know anything about it?

Sincerely, Medic

—

Scout wrote that alright. Not sure what he was aiming to achieve but I guess he probably got it. Be honest, did it fool you? Even a second? If yes then let me know so I can change whatever I did ASAP

(P.S. It gets lonely in the workshop sometimes. Her name is Susan, for the record, and she lights up every goddamn room she’s in)

(P.P.S. don’t judge me!!)

Dumkoph

—

There’s two M’s in dummkoph. Disappointing, really. I expected better.

Kidding! I guessed it wasn’t you fairly quickly because normally I am capable of reading your handwriting. The incredible amount of misspellings packed into just a sentence also assisted somewhat. Your writing isn’t nearly that bad. Good news.

(The fluorescent lights in the lab do reflect quite violently off of her casing, I have to say, so appropriate commendations. Judging you was not at the forefront of my mind until you brought it up. This is your own fault. I have taken the liberty to add a few physical enhancements, as well as a temporary security solution until we can get a more robust security system in place. Improving upon the original design and whatnot. I hope it is to your lofty standards.)

Sincerely, Medic

—

It’s your fault you haven’t taught me german yet.

I see the angry eyebrows and I appreciate them, but was it really necessary for them to be real though? And follow up, where did you get them? If you say Scout so help me god

I’m not sure about the knife either—seems like it could be bad for the walls. The bit of blood on the blade’s also worrying. I’ve removed it for the time being but rest assured I’m blueprinting up a new system—get back to me if you have any ideas!!!!

Dummkoph

—

jesus christ shack the fuck up already

tavish

—

A new system may be prudent—it seems we were intercepted, and someone else tucked a letter in with yours. Nasty stuff. We should probably do it sooner rather than later.

(Where I got them isn’t important. I’m glad they were appreciated.)

Sincerely, Medic

—

I figured that would happen sooner or later. Installed a little facial scanner number I’ve been waiting to test—should laser anyone besides us if they get too close. What did the letter say by the way?

D.C.

—

Nothing of note. Don’t worry about it.

I was going to ask what you meant by “laser”, but Darwin landed on Susan and I suppose I got my answer. Very interesting—I wonder if this could have potential applications? The entire lab smells like burning now. Would you be so kind as to send over some air freshener?

Sincerely, Medic

—

No really, I wanna know. Even if it’s stupid. You got my curiosity eating at me now—shame on you! You should know better

Here’s a pine tree fresher thing Sniper gave me on my birthday that I never used. Normally I wouldn’t regift a gift but it feels less awful if the original was probably scraped out of a glove compartment ten minutes before (god don’t tell him I said that!) Hope it helps!!!

Dell

—

You use too many exclamation marks. Just a note. You sound very excited all the time. Keep it in mind!

It has not assisted much, unfortunately, but I dangled it from Susan’s muzzle and I think it suits her. Hopefully this will help mask any further burning.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Well I am excited. So how about that?

She looks gorgeous, thank you. It really brings out her eyes.

Dell

—

Is there any particular reason you’re excited?

Sincerely, Medic

—

I like y I’m dunno. I’m always excited. Something like that.

Seriously, what did that note say? Don’t keep avoiding me.

D.C.

—

I ha Stop asking to I’ve attached it if you really want to see it.

Medic

—

Demo thinks he’s funny, don’t he?

Dell

—

I suppose.

Medic

—

I just think tha Do you w I don’t really I think we should talk about it.

Dell

—

About what?

—

I think you know.

—

I do not think we should talk about whatever you are saying we should talk about.

Medic

—

I’m real sorry if I ruined something.

—

It’s not that big of a deal.

—

I think it is

—

I think it’s stupid if we’re avoiding each other because of what happened last time.

—

Yes

—

I regret not doing whatever we were going to do.

—

What do you mean?

—

I should have kissed you when I had the chance.

—

Me too.

—

I’m glad you’re in agreement.

—

I’m glad too

—

This has lost all its novelty, hasn’t it?

You’re not giving me anything.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Do you want to meet in ten minutes and go over equations?

Dell

—

Equations?

Medic

—

I couldn’t think of a better word. Five minutes by the way

Love, D.C.

—

I think I’d like that.

Love, Medic

#dnadvalentines2022 #bungus fics #science party #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer

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murderslugs · 3 years

Text

Slasher Bf/Gf Scenarios/Imagines! || Meeting Them

Jason Voorhees (Friday The 13th)

You were out with friends, and it was getting awfully late. But still, there you were, with a flashlight and a backpack with a first-aid kit, some snacks, and water in it, just in case, walking through the abandoned camping trail with your friends. You guys had grown up in a town not too far away from the little old camp, and you’d heard all the stories that surrounded the place. For years you had just dismissed it, you all had passed it off as a local legend or rumor, but still there was a little spark of curiosity. Of course, this is what led you to where you reside now, exploring the camp in search of something peculiar, maybe a story to tell.

“Maybe we should go home...It’s late and I’m not feeling well..” your friend, Ruby, said wearily. It was true, you could see the illness in her dark, drooping eyelids. “Oh, bullshit! You’re fine, just drink some water and go throw up on a tree or something!” another friend yelled out. You just rolled your eyes. “Shut up! She doesn’t look too good, Otis! I think I should bring her back to the car to sit down.” You said with concern. To the dismay and groaning of the group, they let you and Ruby on your way back down the trail and to the car while they continued down the path.

As you made your way to the car, Ruby fell close behind in your steps. Your flashlight flickered continually, and then suddenly gave out; leaving you two in the dark, and the pale moon barely illuminating through the trees above you. “Shit,” you muttered to yourself, hitting the battery pack to the light repeatedly. “Stop, quiet,” Ruby whisper-shouted. That’s when you heard the rustling of the branches getting closer. Closer. Closer. “Maybe we shou…” You turn around, to see Ruby gone.

“Ruby? Ruby?!” You shouted out, to no response. You turned frantically, searching for any sign of her presence. A large man in a ski mask and an old, ruined jacket stood before you, silent. Before you could turn to run or get around him, you felt a sudden pressure on the side of your head, and then you saw black.

Michael Myers (Halloween)

It was Halloween night, and you were home from college for fall break. Your mom insisted that you took your younger sister trick-or-treating, even though you refuted that she was 12 years old, and could handle herself. So, you just took her block to block instead and sat on the corner of the street for her to walk down to the other end and get to all the houses. It was a small town, so there were never really concerns about kidnapping and such. It was just never a problem, you guess.

“Go, Riley. You’re a big kid, you can go down the street.” You groaned, tired of her constant whining. “But (y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn), It’s dark down there!! There’s not a street light at the end!!” she whined insistently. You sighed heavily and pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Here. You can use the flashlight on my phone, just don’t snoop through my info.” You told her, handing over the old smartphone, and pulling a pumpkin-shaped sucker from her trick-or-treat bag. “You owe me this.”

You unwrapped the cheap candy and popped it into your mouth, leaning on the house fence as your sister skipped down the sidewalk. The leaves rustled in the trees, and suddenly you heard footsteps behind you, and whipped around to see who it was. It was on the quieter side of town, and it was getting late. This meant that there shouldn’t be many people out, so there shouldn’t be someone behind you. But still, you came face-to-chest with a tall man in a dark blue jump-suit type outfit, and a white mask. You panicked, and thought quickly about how to fight back. Unfortunately, he seemed to be faster than you, and your mouth was covered as you were picked up and carried off into the darkness, legs kicking uselessly.

Carrie White (Carrie)

You were at the library when you saw a pale girl browsing through the young adult fantasy section. You observed her actions, as she readjusted her dress and collar. She carefully picked a book from the shelf and flipped it to the back to read the description. You saw a flash of the cover, and realized it was one of your favorite series, Chronicles of Narnia. You hesitated but stepped forward in a bit of excitement.

“That’s a good one, I, um, really recommend checking it out.” You told her with a smile, and she looked up, seemingly a bit taken aback. You realized this, and took a step back to give her space. “Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you...I’m (y/n).” You stuck out your hand, and she just looked down at it, book in hand. “Carrie...Sorry, mama never liked me talking to strangers…” “No, no, it’s okay, I underst-” “No, it’s okay...She’s been gone a while now.” She looked down.

You stood awkwardly, feeling a bit bad now. “You seem kind enough. I’ve got to go, but we can talk again another time. I come here every Sunday, around noon.” Carrie said quietly, smiling softly and turning, taking Narnia with her. You sat to yourself, a bit confused about the interaction. You shook your head and carried on. “Next Sunday it is,” You thought to yourself.

Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

There was a new girl at school, as you had heard. How could you not have when everyone was talking about it? She had moved here recently after some sort of tragedy occured, or so you’d heard. It was rumored that she had to have surgery cause someone tried to kill her, she was all stabbed up and shit and nearly bled out. You can’t imagine how awful that would be, and you kept thinking about how she probably came here for a new start, and wouldn’t want people asking about it, but you knew it would happen anyways.

It was 3rd period, Anatomy, when a girl you’d never seen before walked into the classroom. This, of course, must have been the new girl. She was absolutely glowing, even from afar. Her hair was voluminous, rich, and dark, her skin was clear and shiny, her eyes were sharp and bright. It took your breath away trying to take in the sight. The girl’s heels clicked as she trailed to the back of the classroom, to where you were. She sat beside you, at the lab table.

You tried not to look at her, after all, you didn’t want to seem weird. You looked at the floor and over to her shoes. A few drips of a thick, crimson substance were on the floor beneath her, seemingly originating from her shoe. You wondered for a moment if she was hurt. Or, could she have hurt someone else..? It scared you a bit to think about the second option. God knows this school didn’t need another bully, or anything worse than it.

You were tranced, stuck in your own looming dark thoughts, when a velvet voice came to your ears. You snapped your glance up from the floor, to see the girl looking at you, specifically. To your dismay, blood rushed to your face out of embarrassment. “I’m Jennifer. Do you have a pen I can use?”

Billy Loomis (Scream)

You were in your brand new house, you had moved out and into the next town over from your parents. You wanted to be further away, but you knew that your mom would be upset, she was always so protective. She even said that she expected you to come visit her on the weekends. The relationship was a bit exhausting sometimes. But now, you were in your own house, and it was great. You could decorate it however you wanted, you could have whoever you wanted over, you could do basically whatever.

Though, for now, you decided to just make some off-brand pizza rolls and blare some music, maybe even dance around a little bit. Season Of The Witch by Donovan was playing on your stereo when suddenly your phone rang. You paused the music, and quickly answered. Normally, you would check the caller ID, but you were in a good mood and it completely slipped your mind. I mean, who cares if it's a scam caller? You can just hang up. To your surprise, it wasn’t a familiar voice, but didn’t seem to be a scam-caller. Maybe a wrong number?

“Do you like scary movies?” The other line said. You were suspicious, and for a second you considered that maybe it was a survey. It didn’t seem to be a harmful question, so you replied, “Yeah, duh. If you don't, you're pretty lame.” You turned the music back on, but turned the volume down. He asked a few follow-up questions, and you gave your honest answers. You just strolled around the kitchen, occasionally checking the timer on your food so that it doesn’t burn.

You had your phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder, and you had on oven mitts as you grabbed your pizza rolls from the oven. “What’s your name?” The caller suddenly asked. You paused for a second as you put the cooking sheet on the counter. “Why do you wanna know..” You asked cautiously. “Well, I wanna know the name of the cutie I’m looking at.” He said, and your heart damn near stopped. “Excuse me..?” You hung up and quickly ran to the doors, double-checking the locks and locking the windows and shutting the curtains. You grabbed a knife from the silverware drawer and locked yourself in your room, where you eventually fell asleep in the dark silence.

Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

You had just moved out to the country-side to start anew, planning to start a small farm and just live in peace on the quiet little land. Little did you know, you had neighbors across the field that weren’t exactly the type of neighbors that you could ask for a cup of sugar. You were hanging the new drapes for the windows after having taken the old ones down. They were old, dirty, ragged. Honestly, the old farmhouse was sort of let to rot for a while, and you knew it. It was cheap though, and you were up to the challenge. You decided that you would decorate it, clean it up, and make it like brand new, even with the little money that you had.

As you were hanging the drapes, you kept looking out into the distance of the rolling fields outside the window, littered with patches of wild flowers in the grass. You fantasized about making gardens, maybe even building a little stable for a horse or two. It was a lovely thought; there was a small village a little while away from the farm that you could ride a horse to if you wanted.

Though, some distance away in the field, you saw the figure of what looked to be a man wandering in the field. You weren’t too worried, as you had all the locks in place, it was the middle of the day, and he looked peaceful. So, you just forgot about it and went on fixing up your house, unpacking, and getting the rest of the things in place. Although you had been there about a week, you still understandably weren’t completely unpacked.

A few hours later, you were doing a bit of drawing on the couch and taking some time to relax. That’s when you heard a thud on your door. Just a single thud, that’s all. Still, you had reason to be concerned, as you were sort of in the middle of the country and it was starting to set into the evening. You quietly walked to your bedroom and grabbed a shotgun from the closet that you kept for protection, a tradition in your family. You carried it with you as you checked the door. You looked through the thin peephole, but saw nothing. You opened the door to find a paper stuck to the door by a rusty hatchet, buried deep into the oak. Your heart rate spiked as you tore the note from the door and read it. “Welcome to the neighborhood, pretty person” was spelled in crude handwriting.

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agent-yolk-writes · 3 years

Text

You're My Dad! Boogie Woogie Woogie! (Diavolo & Reader)

Ever wanted to call Diavolo your dad? No? Well too bad, I have the perfect fic for you down below!

AO3 Version Here!

If you like my writing, please let me know! My inbox is empty and it's hungry for OM content.

Bold = Diavolo's text

Italicized and Indented = MC's text

Like every natural disaster, it came without a warning.

It started off like every other day. Wake up, go to RAD, do student council duties, go home, sleep, repeat. Of course, there would be an occasional (read: frequent) occasion outside of the standard norm, but today was not one of those times.

“Here you go!” You handed Diavolo your latest finished report. “I’ve even separated the approved and rejected request forms and sorted them alphabetically for easier reading.” You said proudly. Sure enough, the Prince quickly thumbed through one of the piles and made a noise in his throat that sounded positive.

Next thing you know, he gives you one of his iconic smiles. “Excellent work as always, MC.” He tells you. “Your help is always appreciated! Thanks to you, we’ve made a tremendous dent in all this paperwork. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

The praise he was pouring on you felt so good. You try not to visibly react to it, but your brain dumped a massive pool of serotonin from his words alone. Hell, you can even feel your cheeks warming up. It always felt good to be praised by your peers, but there was something about the way Diavolo praises you that fuels you to work hard for the next one. While you were chasing that high and not wanting to be rude you simply replied with,

“Thanks, dad.”

And all of Devildom seemed to freeze over. You could hear Lucifer’s pen dropping to the floor behind you while Mammon choked on something somewhere else in the room. There were no sounds of papers being written or even talking. All eyes landed on you as the reality of what you said started to sink in.

Oh fuck, did you call the Prince of Literal Hell your Dad? Well, he’s such a huge guy and acts almost exactly like those kind-hearted fathers you always see on social media in your realm. It doesn’t help that your actual dad kinda sucks, so maybe this is projection at work. Sadly, the damage has already been done. You could see Diavolo’s face turn from confusion to amusement in a matter of seconds.

“I...I…” Your already red face got darker when you heard the faint snickering coming from Barbatos. Fearing that your rapid heart bursting through your chest, you can only manage to squeak a “Bye!” Before dashing out of the building and out of the academy.

So here you are, holed up in your honorary room at Purgatory Hall while your D.D.D. continues to blow up on the nightstand next to the bed. You couldn’t go back to the HOL, not immediately at least. You felt so embarrassed that you called your housemates’s semi-boss your father.

At least the residents at Purgatory Hall understood your human err. Solomon did give you some shit about it, but that was a given because, well, it’s Solomon. If he wasn’t teasing you about this, then you would have bigger fish to fry in Hell. Simeon was the most sympathetic person about your current predicament while Luke was just happy that you’re hanging out for a few hours. He can complain about the demons later.

You just hope this shitshow cools down soon. Maybe a nap will calm you down.

Hours have passed. Still afraid to look at your phone, your only indicator of time passing was Simeon coming up to your room with a tray of tonight’s dinner with a side dish almost overflowing with cookies courtesy of Luke. Bless these angels, both of them.

And sure enough, your phone stopped vibrating non-stop. Before you could deduce that the battery died, a singular buzz proved otherwise. Damn it.

Still, you couldn’t avoid the brothers forever. They’ll probably kick up another storm of messages since you haven’t replied to them initially. With a defeated sigh, you grabbed your phone and unlocked it. Let's see...143 messages in the HOL+Royals group chat, 103 messages in the HOL group chat, 87 messages from Mammon, 15 messages from Asmo, 10 messages from Lucifer, 5 messages from Levi, 1 message from Satan, 2 messages from Diavolo-

...2 messages from Diavolo. Sent a minute ago. Welp, no use avoiding him either since he’s the sole reason you’re even in Hell in the first place.

MC! Are you alright? You sure ran out of the room quite fast. I didn’t know humans could reach those speeds.

I apologize if I offended you somehow.

With a big gulp, you started writing back.

im okay! Hunkering down at Purgatory atm

if anything, I should be apologizing to you lol

Five minutes passed before he texted back.

That’s good to hear! (smiling devimoji)

Hopefully the brothers haven’t bothered you too much from this.

you have no idea.

(gurgle devimoji)

I have to say, you certainly caused a stir. I couldn’t help but wonder about something.

MC, do you see me as a father figure?

uh, no? If anything, I see you as a bother figure

cuz your always bothering me

God damn you, brain! Think before you speak for fuck’s sake! Quick, do something that'll lessen the blow!

lol

Nailed it!

(hehe devimoji)

I see.

I have been called many things, good and bad, because of my position. Being called dad is a new one.

It’s certainly not...unpleasant.

He’s going to kill you at this rate. You know he will.

ill make sure not to do it again. sorry chief

tho im sure i caused a riot during the meeting

No worries!

And you left it like that. Your mind was pulling blanks on how to respond. You could figure it out as you reply to the others, but you really don’t have the mental fortitude to face them now that Diavolo is embracing his new moniker happily.

And of course, think about the demon prince and he shall appear. Again. What he sent made you groan into your pillow.

How about this weekend we can talk about what human fathers normally do over some sandwiches and tea?

...that sounds nice

Great! Looking forward to it!

(smiling devimoji)

Even though this whole ordeal was embarrassing, you couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of your future meetup. While your actual dad had no redeemable qualities about him, there were always memes.

Curling up in your bed, you begin your hunt across the Demon Web with a VPN that lets you access human websites in order to bring your A-Game this weekend.

Maybe this turned out to be a good thing, after all.

#my writing #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me & reader #om #mc swd #swd diavolo #obey me swd #shall we date #diavolo & reader #obey me diavolo #diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo & mc #obey me mc

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

24 Hours

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: You get buried alive and uhm... I think a curse word or two?

A/N: So, before you notice, yes this is largely based on season two episode nine of Bones, Aliens in the Spaceship. Also, yes this is a criminal minds imagine and yes I’ve hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Matthew Gray Gubler. Please like, comment, reblog, and send me asks, I love that shit. Also, if you’ve never seen criminal minds, you should watch it. Even if only for Dr. Spencer Reid aka Matthew Gray Gubler. You’re welcome in advance.

___

“Hey Spenny, I’m going out to get some coffee. Do you want anything?” Your voice echoed around in Spencer’s head, the image of you waving at him from the door as you walked away imprinted into his mind. Would it be the last time he would ever see you?

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) has been buried alive,” Hotchner stood in the front of the room with Spencer’s phone on speaker. The whole team sat around the table with varying degrees of horror displayed on their faces as the realization dawned on them, “Wire transfer five million dollars to the following Grand Cayman account.” Spencer buried his head in his hands, his fingers tangling into his hair.

Your eyes were on him as you waved over your shoulder, stepping through the door with just a glance and a smile. He kept playing it through his mind in slow motion. Now you were underground, running out of air and running out of time.

“Upon receipt of the wire transfer, I will provide you with Agent (Y/L/N)’s GPS coordinates. You have 24 hours. This will be my last communication.” The BAU jumped into action, people pulling the files from the previous abductions and swapping theories.

“Where in the hell are we going to get five million dollars? The FBI has a strict policy about not paying ransoms.” Morgan slammed a fist on the table, gritting his teeth as his mind raced.

“Her parents.” Spencer looked up, pulling himself out of his head. He needed to be actively helping. They had twenty four hours and sitting at the table with his head in his hands wouldn’t help anything.

Pushing away from the table, the young doctor stood up to look at Agent Hotchner.

“When her parents died they left everything to her. She’s never touched it, said it felt too much like blood money.” Hotchner nodded, looking across the room to Garcia who looked as shell shocked as Spencer felt. Not only had her dear friend been abducted and buried alive, but she had been telling secrets about her parents to Reid and not her?!

“Garcia I need you to find out who she banks with, JJ get them on the phone and see what you can do. If we can pay the ransom we will. If not, we’ll have to figure where she is.” Both women nodded, rushing back to Garcia’s office. The remaining agents started to map the location of every burial site.

“Well, at least we know she’s in Virginia.”

...

When you woke up, rolling into the leather backseat in you car, your brain felt like it was exploding. Your entire body ached, and for a minute, too focused on the pain, you didn’t realize where you were.

It hurt to sit up, to breathe, to look around, and when your brain connected every dot it hurt to think.

“I’ve been buried alive.” You said it aloud, staring at the rocks and dirt that pressed against every window. Thinking felt like walking through sludge, but why?

You’d been working on a case. Four victims in four months, all buried alive, all coming from wealthy backgrounds. Every victim varied in age, race, and sex. It appeared you were number five. There would be a call, maybe two hours after you’d been buried. It would be the only means of communication, there would be a high ransom.

None of this information could help you though. You were underground, what is around you, (Y/N)?

In your glove compartment was a small digital camera, a pen, and some napkins. In your center console was a bottle of water, a small tube of sunscreen, and some loose change. Your phone was on the floor but the battery had been taken out, and sitting in the backseat was a box with a book delicately placed inside.

A first edition copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese, the pages yellowed with age. To just anyone, it was an old book with some poems inside, but you knew that Spencer would understand the moment he opened the box. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had written the series of sonnets to her husband as they were courting. Inside was a poem you had confessed to Spencer was your absolute favorite.

“I’m kind of a cliche hopeless romantic,” you laughed, afraid to look at him for the fear that he would think you were just a silly girl. “But my favorite poem is How Do I Love Thee?”

“By Elizabeth Barrett Browning?” When you looked at him, his expression hadn’t changed from that of a simple curiosity. You relaxed a little, glad to reveal the intimate detail about yourself without backlash.

You had spent such a long time trying to bury the persona of a teenage hopeless romantic underneath the facade that you were only concerned for logic, knowledge, and psychology. You’d never understood why wanting to love and be loved made you any less intelligent.

“I’ve dedicated that poem to the man I hope to marry one day.” A small smile twitched at the edges of his lips as you looked down at your nails, picking at the dirt underneath them. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why had you told him that?

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Spencer reached across the divide between your desks and put his hand over yours. He squeezed, his expression gentle when you met his gaze.

“He will be a lucky man.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes at the thought of Spencer. Would you ever see him again? Would you even be alive in twenty-four hours?

Panic seemed to take control, propelling forward. You screamed, crying hysterically as you pounded against the windows.

“Help me! I’m in here! Please!” You didn’t stop until your hands were bruised, not caring about the amount of oxygen it had taken from your already limited supply. After the panic came a numbness that spread through your body and mind. You weren’t sure how long you stayed staring into your hands, sitting cross-legged in the front seat, but when you finally came back to yourself you knew you had to truly fight.

Gathering everything you’d found in your car, you started to think of what you could do. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

Think, (Y/N), think. What is around you?

“Dirt.” Then you gasped, scrambling back to the front of the car. Using the window crank, you let bits of the dirt fall inside before rolling the window back up and grabbing a handful.

Just by looking you could tell there was ash, a couple of sniffs told you there was nitrogen and sulfur. You spit into the dirt. Coal rich soil. But that was all of Virginia, that didn’t tell you anything.

Think, (Y/N), think.

A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

“That’s it!” Carefully, you shifted the dirt to the top of the center console. Mixing a dab of sunscreen into the dirt, you powered on the camera and grabbed the pen which, conveniently, had a laser on the end.

Just like that you knew where you were. You just had to find a way to tell the others.

...

“We can’t get the money from the bank, she has it completely closed off from anyone touching any of that money. They won’t even tell us how much she has.” JJ ran her fingers through her hair, turned in her chair to face the team that had gathered into Garcia’s office.

“It was a long shot anyways, you typically have to have your name on the bank account to be able to withdraw any money.” Hotchner looks to the rest of the agents clustered next to him, hoping that one of them would have something.

“Did we get anything from the geographic profile?” He made direct eye contact with Reid, watching as he stepped forward and nodded for Garcia to pull up a map. Red lines popped up at each of the four crime scenes, connecting to the location the victim lived. Salem to Lovingston. Stuart to Winchester. Boydton to Marion. Louisa to Yorktown.

“Each of the burial sites is two to four hours away from where the victims lived which would put (Y/N) in this general vicinity.” Using his finger, Reid circles an area on the map around Quantico. No one mentions the shaking of his hand.

“There’s nothing else to narrow down the search.” His voice cracks at the end and no one can meet his eyes. JJ flinches at the sound, tightening her hand around the edge of the desk. It isn’t until Hotch goes to send the team back to work that a chime breaks the silence in the room.

Reid scrambles for his phone, fishing it out of his pocket and flipping it open.

“Who is it from? The Gravedigger? What did he say?” Everyone crowds around him, trying to get a peak at the message.

“It’s from (Y/N).”

6 7 16 M1.4

“What the hell does that mean?” Penelope says.

...

You’re not sure how long its been, but you can feel the oxygen getting low. Your eyes feel heavy, like you’re tired, and if you move just a little too fast the world shifts and sways like you’re on a boat.

After hot wiring the phone to the car, you’d leaned against the horn and typed the shortest message you could as fast as possible. When the phone sparked and died, you weren’t even sure if the messsge had gone through. You could only hope.

For now, you’ve crawled into the back, opening the book to read through it. If you’re going to die, at least you can read your favorite poems one more time. With every sonnet comes a memory of Spencer.

“Actually,” Spencer begins, stepping forward to point out something no one had even thought of, gesturing between pictures and referencing something only he could see in his mind. You’d worked a couple of cases with the team at this point, getting to know each individual who sat at this table with you.

Spencer turned back to the group and there it was, for just a fraction of a second he looked at all the older people at the table like a little boy looking for acceptance and recognition. Looking for approval. Your heart flipped over itself and your crossed your arms, hoping this wasn’t the start of a silly crush.

You flip to the next sonnet, reading it in a whisper as another memory hits you.

“I’m scared, Spencer.” You met his eyes, heart hammering in your chest as JJ strapped a mic to your bra strap. You were going undercover in an attempt to lure out the unsub, and although you knew every single one of your team members would be ready to have your back at a moments notice, you couldn’t shake the fear.

“Why?” It wasn’t harsh the way he said it, looking at you from the desk he was sitting on as JJ stepped away and out of the room to give the two of you some privacy. You started to button up your shirt, trying to breathe away the shaking of your hands.

“I’m afraid something is going to go wrong. That I’ll say or do something that will tip him off and he’ll kill me.” Spencer stepped forward, not touching you but looking into your eyes as you smoothed your hands down your sides.

“I’ll be there before he has the chance. I’ll take that shot. But I don’t believe I’ll have to do that because I know you have the ability to do this without a hitch. You’ve got this.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to be okay. He wouldn’t let them send you in if you didn’t give him the okay. You could see that in the way he positioned himself between you and the door, ready to take the brunt of any frustration in order for you to feel safe.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And you did trust him. That’s why you were saving your last trick, waiting for him to put together the last of the puzzle piece he needed in order to save you. Spencer was going to find you, you had no doubt.

You just weren’t sure if you would survive the trick or not.

...

“Six, seven, sixteen, M, one point four.” Spencer stood staring at the board where they had copied the text, going over every possible meaning he could think of.

A book? No.

A math problem? No.

Coordinates? No.

Theories were being thrown across the room at rapid fire, everyone trying to think of the meaning to the cryptic message. They were all still huddled into Garcia’s office, so the voices echoed and bounced around the room.

“She’s been down there for fourteen hours, we’ve got nothing! She’s already running out of oxygen, I’m honestly starting to doubt it means anything.” Derek passed a hand over his face, patting at his cheeks as his eyes grew heavy.

“No. She’s highly intelligent and extremely resourceful, the message means something but wh-” Reid froze. In his mind he could see the periodic table.

“What is it, Reid?” Gideon looked at him, watching as his brain started to fly.

“Garcia pull up a map of Virginia.” She did as she was told, pulling up the map with one point in Quantico.

“Six on the periodic table is carbon, seven is nitrogen, sulfur is sixteen. She’s telling us the dirt she’s in.” Quick to catch on, Garcia zoomed the map onto coal rich soil in Virginia. It wasn’t enough.

“Coal can’t be distinguished by mineral composition, it’s all the same. However, macerals are unique in that they flouresce at different levels. In this case, 1.4, which is rare. It only occurs when there are high concentrations of inertinite.” The map zoomed, Penelope’s fingers flying across the keys as Spencer spoke.

“Got her.”

...

Settling your napkin letter atop the book, you nestled the lid to the gift box back on top. You tied the bow tight before tucking the whole thing into the waistband of your jeans. There was no guarantee it would make it, there was no guarantee you would make it, but you had waited long enough.

Grabbing both ends of the wires you’d stripped, you climbed into the back, hands shaking at the thought of what you were about to do.

“I’m scared.” You said. You heard Spencer, saw him leaning against a window seal in your mind. He looked at you from behind those glasses that always reminded you of a 60’s NASA engineer. His hair was pushed back, the ends curling around his ears in a way that made you itch to loop them around a finger.

Why?

“What if I never see you again?” Tears you hadn’t even known were in your eyes spilled over onto your cheeks, dripping onto the thighs of your pants. He changed now, taking on various Spencer’s from your past.

Spencer looking up from paperwork to listen to a question, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. His lips parted ever so slightly while a piece of his hair dangled out of place on his forehead.

Spencer leaned against the bar, waving down the bartender mid laugh. His tie is loose and his shirt is untucked, his hair is adorably disheveled and his eyes are crinkled around the edges.

Spencer asleep on the jet home, his cheek cradled in one hand, his elbow propped on the armrest. His long legs are stretched out, his other hand splayed on top of his chest which rose and fell with each breath.

Spencer standing in the elevator, the surprise of someone calling his name turning into a small smile when he recognizes you racing to the doors. He reaches out to press a button before using both hands to grab onto the strap of his bag. He looks down at you as you enter with a look in his eyes you’ve never been able to identify.

And the Spencer you’ve only ever dreamed about.

His eyes fluttering open after a long night spent proving his love, the sun filtering through the window and reflecting on him in such a way that it makes you wish you could paint. The sheets are bunched around his waist, his chest is bare, and his smile is so sleepy that it swells your heart to ten times it’s normal size.

We’ll see each other soon. You’ve got this.

“Okay,” you say it with conviction, forcing your hands to stop shaking, “I trust you.” And then without a moments hesitation, tears still running down your face, you touch the wires together.

The world explodes.

“There!” Spencer races for the place he saw the puff of dirt, nearly tripping over himself as he runs faster than he’s ever run before. Everyone follows, dropping to there knees with Spencer as he starts to push at the stone and sand at his feet.

“Please be here. Please be here.” He keeps saying, his heart climbing into his throat with every passing second he doesn’t find you. That is, until his fingers brush across an arm. He shoves down into the dirt, ignoring every instinct that tells him to stay clean. It’s you, it’s your arm. Then it’s your head, your shoulders and chest, your stomach, your legs, and then it’s you.

He pulls you on top of him, laying in the dirt with you pulled so close that you could meld into one person. You groan into his ear, pushing up just a little to get a better look at the man under you.

“I forgot your coffee.” He laughs, tears spilling onto the sides of his face as he wraps his arms back around you.

...

It’s late by the time you’ve been seen by what feels like every doctor and psychologist in the state. There’s bruises on your wrists and ankles you hadn’t noticed during your time underground and a cut on the back of your head where you’d been hit in order to be knocked unconscious. Not to mention the tiny cuts all over your arms and face from crawling through a shattered windshield and up through rocks and dirt.

You stood in the conference room, arms crossed as you leaned against the table and stared. Staring back at you was your own face, tacked to the evidence board with four other victims.

“I tried going to your apartment, but nobody answered the door.” Spencer is standing in the doorway of the conference room, holding a box in his hands. You look down at it before looking back at him. Try as you might, you can’t tell if he’s opened it or not, either you aren’t a good profiler or you were just really tired.

“You left this at the hospital. I figured it was important if you brought it up with you from the car.” Moving into the room, he holds the box out for you to take from him. The ribbon you tied around it is still tightly knotted, the ends shredded from being dragged above ground. There’s specks of dirt that you reach out to brush to the floor before looking back at Spencer.

“It’s yours.” You reply, scooting back to sit on the table, watching curiously as he looks back down. Pulling the box back to his chest, he slips the ribbon off in one fluid motion. The lid is next and you watch as he reaches in to pull out what you had believed to be your last words.

It isn’t much, and there’s a possibility you don’t feel the same way, but I’ve realized that I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. I trust you with my life and my heart. I’m only scared now of losing you. -(Y/I)

He doesn’t look up at you and he doesn’t set the napkin aside, only moves his hand so the note is out of his line of sight as he sees the book inside.

“‘I love thee with all the breath, smiles, tears of all my life.’” He says it almost in a whisper before setting the note back in the box, and the box on the table.

“How long have you been waiting to give this to me?” When he looks at you, finally, there is wonder in his eyes, amazement.

“I bought the book last month, but I’ve known how I felt about you for six months.” You pick at the edge of the table, swinging your legs ever so slightly. Spencer moves in front of you, blocking your view of the evidence board.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight. Robert Sternberg developed the theory that love is made of three components; intimacy, passion, and commitment. None of which can be present during a first meeting. But I think I knew that I would love you. I knew from the very first time you walked in those doors and you bumped into me.” He reaches his hand out, only hesitating for just a moment before he takes you cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He leaned so close that if he were just a hair closer, you lips would brush together as he spoke. You’ve already closed your eyes, every nerve lit up like the Fourth of July in anticipation.

“Yes.” You barely get it out before his lips collide with yours, you can feel every emotion from the last twenty four hours being poured into this kiss; fear, anxiety, sadness, confusion, anger, relief, love, safety.

You reach out to loop your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as he grabs your hips to slide you closer. When he finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed, it takes him a minute to open his eyes.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?” You loop the hair that curls against his neck around your index finger, licking your lips before responding.

“Because I’m afraid this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up back in that car.” Your breath hitches in your throat, the panic grabbing at your heart and lungs and barely leaving you anytime to process the plethora of things that have happened to you in the last thirty minutes.

“Come sleep at my place, that way you wake up with me by your side.” He steps away from the table, reaching out a hand for you to take. It takes you no time at all to make your decision, grabbing his hand and sliding off the table.

“Okay, I trust you.”

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

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Day 17: Royality

@tsshipmonth2020 (does this still count so late?)

What’s that? Ly creating content? Unbelievable. (I have writer’s block, leave me alooone /j)

Thanks to @marshymoop for suggestions and encouragment when making this bad boy! Love ya <3

Day 17 - Everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural color the other is your soulmate’s natural color. Once you meet all eyes return to natural color.

Content warnings: food/drink mention, alcohol, mentions of hangover, vampires, referring to drinking blood as “eating”, non-explicit blood drinking, being chased.

Word count: 6.9k

THE CITY OF DEWMORE WELCOMES YOU

Patton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly, nearly vibrating as he passed the weathered sign. Beyond it, beckoning him forward, stood a forest more densely packed and darker than he’d ever had the pleasure of exploring, the achingly tall pine trees swaying minutely in the breeze, their tips barely visible through the blanket of fog. Just imagining what could be held within those depths made his leg bounce; forgotten, moss-drenched stone paths, broken stumps of fallen trees that hadn’t made a sound upon impact, patches of mushrooms scattered in the shadows, and whispering creeks. It was the perfect way to spend his spring break, and one his photography teacher had wholeheartedly encouraged him to take. If he hadn’t had so many midterms to mark, Patton was almost sure the man would have tried to join him.

Almost an anxious tic at this point, he ran his free hand over the photography bag in his passenger seat, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared in the three minutes since he’d last checked. The thing was his prized possession, given to him by the very same photography professor at his university. It had been the elder’s own, before he got his newest camera, and gifted the whole set to his favorite (but don’t tell the others) students. It was full of perfectly kept lenses and two miniature tripods, extra batteries and memory cards, speedlights, and most importantly, the camera tucked safely into the biggest pouch. It was more expensive than Patton would ever have dreamt to buy, so it was truly a gift he’d never forget. Now it was up to him to finally take some shots worthy of the thing.

The forests continued to grow denser and thicker until, in almost a shocking snap, they disappeared to reveal a quaint city that he hadn’t quite expected. The first few buildings he passed looked like they may have stood there for hundreds of years, weather worn and faded. Their signs were either scratched to nothingness or blaringly new, shining metal names standing out against an ancient backdrop. He was looking for a motel, figuring there had to be one, even in a town of less than two thousand people. His backup plan was to just sleep in his car. He’d brought his sleeping back and extra blankets, so it wasn’t a huge concern, but he’d still prefer a bed. But whenever he’d tried finding anything online, he’d come up blank.

A fog still covered the town, and though it created an air of calm and mystery that Patton was itching to capture, he also knew the area was surrounded by towering mountains that he also desired so badly. To his right, the buildings stopped abruptly, revealing a grey beach, all rocks and no sand, criss crossed with logs, opening to a dark lake. The other side wasn’t visible through the mist.

The further he drove, he realized the buildings weren’t improving in their modernity, just giving way to more and more old infrastructure. One stood out, a grocery store, it’s lights piercing through the evening dim. Patton didn’t get a look inside before he passed, once again surrounded antique houses and shops, a post office to his left, and a tavern just across from that. A sign above the door read “Vacancy” in peeling white letters, and that was all the enticing Patton needed to pull his car into the gravel parking lot in front of the building. There was only one other vehicle there, a matte red pickup truck that he parked next to, and what appeared to only be three more parking spots. From the high placed windows, a soft orange light bled, and a round of raucous laughter filtered through the cracked open door. Patton smiled. The photographer inside him was going to have a field day here.

He stepped up the concrete steps and ruffled his hair with one hand so it covered his eye, heaving a sigh in hopes to calm his nervous butterflies, and pulled the door open.

All at once, the chatter inside died, and Patton internally shrank as every face in the tavern turned to look at the newcomer. There was a moment of tense silence as he tried his best for a smile and met the gaze of the men scrutinizing him, drinks forgotten on high wooden tables, jubilance halted. Patton waited with baited breath, for someone to do something, why were they all just staring, when a voice spoke from behind the bar.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart. We don’t get a lot of new people around here.”

And the lull was broken as suddenly as it started, the men now ignoring him in favor of joking over mugs of fizzing ale. Patton swallowed thickly and turned to the voice, shoving his quivering hands into his pockets and shaking his head again to assure the curls were safely covering his eye. As usual.

The man standing before him, leaning on the bar with an easy smile, was almost enough to take Patton’s breath away. If he were a religious man, he’d go so far as to call him heavenly. Eyes as dark as the depths of the surrounding forests, auburn hair pushed back from his face in what he could only think to describe as an intentional bedhead. His skin was too flawless, teeth just a couple shades too white, everything perfect in a way that was almost…

Patton couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What can I get you, newbie?”

“Uhm-” Patton took a cleansing breath and sat at one of the barstools, all of them empty seeing as the crowd seemed more drawn to the tables in the center of the room, “I don’t come to bars that often. I don’t know.”

The bartender hummed, pushing up his already rolled up white sleeves and giving Patton a once over, almost investigating him. “You drink?”

“I… I guess.”

“Been on the road for a while, tired?”

“Do I look that exhausted?” Patton breathed a laugh, suddenly aching to pop his spine. He’d been driving since before dawn for the past three days, barely hunkering down for a decent sleep before he was off again. He’d been really excited to get here, plus he didn’t want to waste more of his meager break driving.

“I got just what you need, darling.” With a wink, the bartender straightened up and pulled down a series of bottles, cracking his knuckles with flourish before measuring them into a silver canister. “So what brings you to Dewmore?”

“I’m a photographer,” Patton said, “Or, a photography student. Down in Florida.”

The man whistled as he shoveled ice cubes into the mix, “Long drive for some pictures.”

“I’m… dedicated,” Patton laughed, scratching at his neck nervously. “My prof recommended it, said it might be a nice place to spend my break.”

“I assume you’re looking for a place to stay then, as well?” He plopped a cap on the canister and began to shake it above his shoulder, grinning widely, “These guys are always just like, ‘Gimme a beer’ this, ‘Gimme a beer’ that. It’s great to actually make fun drinks again.” With hands flying too fast for Patton to process, he grabbed a glass, popped the lid of the shaker, and poured the deep orange drink, tossing on a green sprig and sliding the drink over. “Enjoy.”

Patton took a cautious sip of the drink and had to fight not to sigh, the refreshing taste a welcome relief after three days of gas station Gatorade and hotel sink water. He could barely taste any alcohol, more focused on the ice cold sweet tartness at the back of his tongue. The bartender looked pleased, huffing a satisfied laugh and beginning to put away his bottles. He was taking another sip, satisfied with the backdrop of joyous chatter and clinking glasses, when he remembered why he’d come in.

“Yes, I am. Uhm, looking for a place to stay, that is.”

The bartender looked at him over his shoulder, “We haven’t had visitors in… a while, at least. You’ve pretty much got your pick of the rooms.”

“Do you have anything facing the water?” He took another sip, the photo possibilities already flowing through his mind. One through the window, just far back enough to catch the flow of the curtains and the chipped wood of the window ledge, a monochromatic lakeshore in the bottom third, a barely visible mountain looming ahead…

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me just finish this up, and I’ll get you on the ledger.”

“Patton.” He downed the rest of the drink and rested his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Hm?”

“My name’s Patton.”

“I’m Roman.” Tossing the towel over his shoulder, Roman gave him another wink before disappearing into the back room, coming back moments later with a thick black book. He was already thumbing through the pages, finally landing on the one he wanted, and spun a pen between his fingers.

“What’s your last name, sweetheart?”

Patton spelled it out for him, and was surprised when the man clapped the book shut after the final letter. “That’s all you need?”

“Yup.”

“No… ID, or anything?” It was at that moment when it occurred to Patton that, although he was legal, his baby face often prompted bouncers and servers back home to ask for identification. Roman hadn’t even blinked before serving him.

“Got anything to hide?”

“Uhm… no, I-”

“Good enough for me. It’s not like we’re a high traffic tourist spot. I don’t think we’ve had anyone take a room in, like, two years, and who knows how many before that. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if you were on the run for murder. Don’t kill me, and we’re solid.”

Patton blanched, unable to tell if the man was being sarcastic. Finally his expression cracked into a smirk and he brandished a key towards Patton, dangling it by the ring. “I’m messing with you. I mean, don’t kill me, that’s legit. Here you go, cutie. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he sashayed away with a tray of beers (when on Earth had he filled those?), and the men whooped loudly, startling Patton.

“Easy, boys,” Roman purred, beginning to round the tables, and Patton hopped off the bar stool to get his things from his car. He couldn’t wait to pass out in bed with the knowledge that he could sleep in however late he wanted.

-0-0-0-

But apparently sleep didn’t have the same ideas as him, because even after he was in comfortable clothes and tucked into the covers, he continued to toss and turn. Maybe it was the concept of being alone in a strange town, or the full moon shining through the thin curtains, or just plain excitement, but he suddenly felt wider awake then he had since he started this trip.

There was a soft rattling somewhere across the room and, with begrudging acceptance that he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, fumbled his glasses on to search for the offending sound. With a grumble, he threw off the blankets and padded across the room to the window and tossed back the curtains, giving the moon a scalding glare for shining so darn brightly. It was the window, fitted loosely in its frame, being shook by the gentle wind that was causing the noise. Patton gave it an experimental tug, followed by a more forceful yank, and found it didn’t budge down at all. Instead, it continued to rattle mockingly, in what sounded almost like whispered giggles as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Fine. He turned his attention to the scenic view before him, letting out a minute shudder as a small gust of wind blew through his thin pajama shirt. Moonlit waves crashed against the rocky shore, tossing up silver spray against the dark backdrop of the forest. Patton took a breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace just staring at the silent town, the stone spires rising above the forest-

Wait, what?

Patton blinked sharply a couple times, leaning forward until his nose bumped the window and squinting through the glass. Those… things... definitely looked like manmade objects- the shape made it impossible for them to be natural- but you’d think he’d remember something that looked like a castle directly outside his window. In fact, he’d spent a significant amount of time upon first entering the room just admiring the view, and a castle one hundred percent would have been on his radar. Oh, if the thing was abandoned, imagine the photo opportunities, and even if it wasn’t he could totally just get some of the outside-

Yeah, there was no way he was sleeping now.

Before he’d even processed what he was doing, he’d slipped out of his pajamas and hurriedly pulled on the outfit he’d laid out on the desk chair, because there was no way he was digging through his suitcase to scrounge out more clothes. He threw a beige sweater over his white shirt, however, remembering the chill the night had brought and, after he’d adequate tucked them into his slacks, he threw his camera bag over his shoulder and trotted down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, the first floor tavern was empty of all customers, overhead lights traded for softer electric lamps on the walls and the illuminated sign above the bar, where Roman was wiping down the counter, seemingly unbothered by the late hour.

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?” The bartender called out without turning around, tossing his rag across the counter and into a full soapy bucket behind the bar.

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Patton responded, shaking his bangs so they covered his eye. “I think I’m just too excited to start getting shots.”

“Mmm, you and me both.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled a bottle of what looked like whiskey off the shelf. “What’s your poison?”

Patton snorted but shook his head, patting his camera bag, “I want to go out, and it’s probably not smart to drink before going out in a strange town at night.”

Roman shrugged before pouring himself a shot and downing it in one smooth motion.

“You’re allowed to drink on the job?”

The bartender hummed, replacing the bottle and locking the cabinet presumably for the night, “Once my tavern is empty, I consider myself off the clock. And I’m my own boss, so I hereby give myself the night off. I have a coffee machine in the back room, one of those Keurigs, if you want something fancy. Hasn’t been used in ages, but I’m sure if you wanted something, I-”

“No, it’s okay. Really.” Patton ducked his head and messed with his shirt, making sure the white collar stood above the neck of his sweater. He made his way over to the bar and took the same stool as before, leaning on the counter as Roman dumped out the dirty cleaning water into the sink. The clock above the bar, barely illuminated enough to see, revealed it was just after midnight. “Are there any old structures, like churches or anything, in the forest?”

Roman tilted his head, giving Patton a look over his shoulder he couldn’t quite understand.

“There’s nothing there besides wolves and ticks, sweetheart,” he said slowly with an almost condescending smile, “Why? Hoping the little town in the middle of nowhere has a mystery?” He rinsed out the bucket and placed it in the cabinet under the sink.

Patton shrugged, scratching at his temple, “I saw something outside of my window.”

“Like a tree?” The rag was rinsed as well and draped over the faucet.

“No, definitely not.” He tried not to feel too offended that Roman was clearly teasing him, but he was certain what he’d seen hadn’t been a tree. They were too tall, too angular, and too symmetrically placed for that.

“Pattycake, I grew up hunting with my dad and partying in those woods, and I would know if something were there.”

“Are you sure?” Patton implored, “There’s definitely something man made, could it be, like, an old castle, or something?”

There was a moment of silence between the two as Roman continued to look at Patton like he was crazy, the barest hints of an impish grin tugging at his lips, before he sucked in a sharp breath; as if he realized something.

On a dime, Roman’s expression contorted into one of anger, eyes alight with fury as he leaned into Patton’s space. As he spoke, his voice almost reverberated, like a choir speaking in unison.

“There is nothing in those woods, Patton. Understand? Don’t go wandering into places you don’t belong, or you won’t like what you find.”

Patton reared back from the forceful words, hand coming up subconsciously to readjust the hair on his face. Roman leaned just a tad closer, growling out a warning, “Got it, sweetheart?” The electric lamps on the walls, once creating such a homey, soft environment, suddenly flickered and Patton flinched, whipping around to face the large room as it seemed to strobe under the malfunctioning lights. Goosebumps spread across his arms as the flashing grew faster and his hand clamped over the back of his neck when a shiver raced up his spine.

“What’s going on? Why are-”

And then the lights went out completely, an eerie quiet settling over the tavern. Roman was silent. Was he even still in the room? Could he have left so quickly? The only sound in the empty room were Patton’s shaky breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as he fought down a scream. He wasn’t a fan of the dark.

A single street light barely shone through the window, too dim to even light up the tables near the glass, and Patton turned to focus on it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In… out… in… out-

A silhouette appeared in the window.

The lights were back to their original gleam before he could even open his mouth to scream, filling the room with a dull hum as if nothing had even happened. Blinking rapidly, Patton took a calming breath (it’s just old lights, it’s just old lights, relax) and swiveled back in his chair to find that Roman was smiling at him innocently, cleaning out a glass with a rag.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t you see that?” Patton asked incredulously.

“See what?” The bartender placed the glass into the last space in a row of them, giving Patton that same condescending grin as before.

Patton sighed and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. “I think travelling for so long has me seeing things.” Careful as ever, in the same fashion he’d so masterfully perfected in elementary school, he shook his head to cover his eye- his stupid, left, ‘soulmate’ eye- before removing his hands and letting his glasses fall back into place.

Other kids won’t like it, sweetie. I don’t think the teachers will either.

I know you can’t help it, my love. If I could take this burden from you, I would. But this is yours to handle until… well, you know.

I don’t know why, Patton. You’ll find them someday. And then you’ll understand.

“Why do you do your hair like that?”

“Hmm?” Patton blinked.

Roman smirked, leaning casually on the counter in front of Patton, “Covering half of your face like that. You shouldn’t, you know. You’re a stunner.” With that, he reached forward, intent on moving that hair out of his face.

No.

“NO!” Patton yelled, stumbling off the barstool just as Roman’s hand made contact with his face. He ducked his head, roughly scraping his hair back in place with shaking hands, but the damage was done. A single cute guy compliments him and he forgets the habit he’s built up for years? How could he be so stupid-

“Everything alright? I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

Was it possible he hadn’t seen it? Maybe Patton had moved fast enough, maybe the bartender had been too surprised to get a good look, maybe everything was fine. Roman didn’t seem horrified, or at all perturbed. Instead, he just looked… worried.

Either way, after that reaction, Patton was aching to be left alone to stew in his embarrassment. His rented room held nothing for him that he wanted, and sleep felt farther than ever, so his only choice was outside. The promises of a maybe-crumbling ancient building, illuminated by a full moon, were far more tempting than anything inside had to offer.

“Actually,” Patton said nervously, “A coffee would be great.”

Roman squinted at him, biting on the inside of his cheek before huffing a breathy laugh through his nose. “Alright, darling. Give me just a second to dust off the Keurig.”

The moment he disappeared behind the door to the backroom, Patton tightened his hold on the camera bag and sprinted from the tavern, into the grips of the cool night.

-0-0-0-

What would he say when he got back to the tavern? Would Roman make him leave the inn? Had he crossed a line he hadn’t known existed; would he have to cut his trip early because he couldn’t help his curiosity? Was bothering the only innkeeper in town really the smartest decision to make?

All wonderful questions that Patton wished he’d considered before running.

But if he did have to leave, and if this was his last night in this delightful and equally terrifying little town, he was going to make the most of it. At least, that’s what he’d thought he would do as he’d left the few city lights behind and treading deeper into the forest. He had a flashlight with him, thank goodness, so he wasn’t completely screwed, and he’d already gotten a few great shots. He stayed in the areas that the full moon could still shine through the trees, and some of the clouds had rolled away, so he was having the time of his life working with silhouettes against the star filled sky (thanks to the little to no light pollution Dewmore offered).

The more prominent thought in his mind, however, were the spires steadily growing closer above the treeline. He couldn’t understand what Roman had been talking about. How could anyone living in this town not see whatever he was walking towards?

(Admittedly, curiosity was also a huge reason he was chasing something he’d been warned to avoid. He’d never been that great at impulse control.)

It had to be nearly two in the morning when he came to an incline; a steep path constructed entirely of rocks fist-sized and larger. At the top, Patton could just barely see what looked to be the back of the castle, and he bounced slightly on his toes in excitement. He couldn’t tell from this distance the state it was in, or if it was possible anyone still lived there, but dang it if he wasn’t going to give it a go before he left. He’d walked all this way, after all.

The first few steps up the hill were the loudest thing he’d heard since he’d started his midnight adventure, and he cringed as they dropped away under his feet, knocking against each other as they fell to the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Patton spun around, his flashlight slipping out of his hands. It rolled down between the rocks, casting split second light beams in every direction as it bounced towards the source of the voice, and stopped dead in the middle between the two of them. It settled on an indent created by Patton’s steps, aimed at the newcomer. Patton breathed a sigh of relief.

“Roman, goodness gracious! You scared the bejesus out of me,” Patton laid a hand on his chest and let out a huge gust of air. Roman didn’t move, and for the first time he noticed the absolute glare the bartender was giving him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm… sorry about the… leaving. Thing. Are you mad?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Well, apparently they weren’t going to talk about it. “Oh- I’m sorry, is this private property? I didn’t see any signs, I’m- Wait, but look, Roman! See, that’s what I was talking-”

“You. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.”

Patton blinked at the harshness in his words, taken aback. How was this the same easy going bartender that he’d met earlier tonight? Whatever was beyond this hill, though, Roman obviously wasn’t going to allow Patton to see. Maybe it was dangerous, or something? Either way, he couldn’t deny his disappointment. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-”

“How did you get here?”

“I… um, walked?”

“No!” Roman hissed, finally stepping forward and plucking up the flashlight from the ground, “You shouldn’t be able to see the castle, or go near it, how the hell did you get here?!”

Before he could answer, the other man froze, whipping around as if he’d heard a noise from his left. And then Patton blinked, and Roman was in front of him, pulling him back down to solid ground. He dragged him by the arm to a fallen tree that was propped up against its own splintered stump, leaving it angled just a few feet off the ground.

“How did you- You were just over there, how-”

“Get down!”

“What?”

“Get. Down!” Roman shoved his shoulders and Patton had no choice but to collapse, blending into a pile of ferns beneath the bend of the tree. “Take off the backpack, put it in front of you. It blends in better than you do.” He yanked off the dark green camera bag as he spoke, situating it in front of Patton. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t fucking breathe, Patton, I swear.” The flashlight flicked off and thumped to the ground as Roman walked away, leaving him standing in the pale moonlight. Patton debated reaching for the flashlight, but that would mean exposing himself from the foliage he was tucked in and under, and Roman had seemed really scared.

There was a rustle in the underbrush in front of Roman, and the photographer shoved his fist into his mouth before he could gasp.

“Roman, it’s so nice to see you back home. It’s been far too long.”

“It’s been hardly a month, mother.”

The woman that emerged from the tree’s shadows wore a black cloak, nearly blending into the forest around her as the fabric swirled hypnotically by her ankles with each step. Silver embroidery made up the tight bodice and strung together the corset front, meeting at the bottom in an intricate knot and trailing almost down to the earth in two strands. How her intricate updo had stayed intact through a walk in the forest, Patton couldn’t understand.

However, if this was Roman’s mother, he did understand where he got his looks. The only word that came to his mind was ethereal; all smooth pale skin, those same impossibly dark eyes, red lips curved in a constant, easy smile. She was beautiful, but she was terrifying, and Patton backed up more into his fern hiding spot.

She lifted her flared sleeves towards Roman as she stepped into the moonlit opening and he pulled her hands towards himself, kissing both of her cheeks before releasing her.

“A month is too long, darling,” She purred, letting the back of her hand trail down his cheek. “I don’t understand why you find it necessary to stay amongst those humans when you could be with your family.”

“Because I want more than just… lounging, and talking with my brothers. Do you have to bring this up every time I visit?” Despite his slightly aggravated tone, he leaned into her touch.

“When you’re older, you’ll look back at these choices with embarrassment and resentment.”

“Maybe.”

“I just don’t want you to blame me when you do.”

“I could never, I promise.”

She sighed heavily, “They miss you, Roman. We all do.”

“Which is why I’m here, mom. You act as if I’ve been gone a millenia.”

“Worrying is what a mother does best,” She smiled fondly, tapping his cheek with her finger, “You’re home, darling. Drop the glamor? It must be tiring keeping it up constantly.”

There was a moment of hesitation, where Patton couldn’t help but tense up along with the man in front of him. Then the air shifted, like it had been holding a breath it could finally let out, and though there was nothing different that Patton could see from Roman’s back, a certain jolt of fear hit him out of nowhere.

“There’s my boy.” The woman drew him in for a proper hug, one hand reaching around his back to rest on his head. She pressed a kiss to his hair when he wrapped his arms around her in turn. Suddenly her nose wrinkled and she pulled away, holding his shoulders at arm’s length. “Dearest, you smell like humans again.”

Roman chuckled, but there was a new quiver in his voice. “The only flaw in being surrounded by them so often. Let me change, and I’ll come meet you for dinner.”

She didn’t move, eyes narrowing as she watched his face. “No… it’s not you.”

“What? What else could it possibly-”

“There’s a human here.” Her voice was utterly calm, but she pushed Roman behind her resolutely. “There must be.”

“What?!”

A low growl filled the air, and it took Patton a few moments to realize the sound was originating from her. She stepped past Roman, her dress flowing soundlessly along with her as she glared into the woods around them.

Her eyes flashed red.

Once again, Patton shoved his fist into his mouth to hide a scream. That same alien jolt of fear returned as she moved closer to him, seemingly zeroing in on his location.

“Mother, come now. You’re being silly. Humans can't even come near here, remember? You made sure of that yourself!”

Patton tore his eyes away from the advancing woman and his breath caught in his throat. Roman had followed his mother, trying to placate her gently with a hand on her arm, and in doing so, had turned towards Patton’s hiding spot.

When Patton opened his eyes shortly after being born, he was taken away from his mother, despite his parent’s strong objections and his wails. He was returned hours later, much to their relief. On his birth certificate, his right eye was labeled blue. His left eye, the side usually taken by the natural color of his soulmate’s, was labeled ‘Defective’.

When he was set to start school at six years old, his mother sat him down on his bed and taught him how to properly cover his left eye with his hair. They’d grown it out enough to do so. Patton had asked why it was necessary, and subsequently learned the truth that not all people were as accepting and loving as his parents.

When he was ten, he returned home from school crying. He dropped into his mother’s arms and she held him until his sobs turned to sniffles, until he could explain between sharp breaths that a bully at school had revealed Patton’s eye while trying to force him into a fight, and… well, his classmates hadn’t taken it well. Those who weren’t downright afraid of him, refused to eat or sit with him anymore. But it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t help it!

His eye was labeled ‘Defective’, because never before had the doctor’s seen a child born with a red eye. Not the pale color that came with pinkeye, or an allergic reaction, but the iris itself was such a bold, blood red color that it had left the team scrambling for any record of such an incident. They were left with more questions than answers. But the world had yet to understand how soulmates worked in the first place, so they chalked it up to another universal mystery.

Every day for as long as he could remember, Patton had stared into a mirror first thing in the morning, greeted with calm, airy blue on one side, and fiery, almost electric red on the other.

So it was jarring to see such a sight, yet reversed, on another person. But as Roman tugged again on his mother’s arm, there was no denying it; the man’s own color was a gleaming ruby, and the other was Patton’s very own blue.

“Mother, look,” Roman blurted out, scooping up the discarded flashlight from the forest floor, “This is a human tool. I’m sure this is what you’re smelling.”

She ripped the device from his hand, shaking it in his face, “That is still far too close to home, Roman! Humans have been here, and I guarantee they are still nearby.”

“And you don’t know how many there are, Mom!” Roman insisted, taking her hands. “It doesn’t matter how they got here, or why they did,” A slow grin spread across his face, highlighting a pair of glinting fangs, “Why don’t you gather the family, and we can find them together? I can’t even remember the last time I really ate.”

The woman was satiated by this answer, though she still cast the forest cautious looks. “Stay put, Roman. We’ll be back shortly.” Her nose wrinkled again. “Along with a change of clothes for you.”

And then she was gone, the only remaining trace being the tiny cloud of dust she’d left behind. Roman was calm for a moment, making sure she was really gone, before his demeanor dropped. The cocky smirk was gone, and he no longer held the confidence he’d had, either as a bartender or in the presence of his mother.

“We don’t have a lot of time, c’mon! Let’s go!” He crouched before the log, extending his hand to Patton.

“What the hell are you?!” Patton shrieked. Interesting, that those were the first words from his jumble of thoughts that came out.

“Oh, come on, do you really need to ask? I’m pretty sure you already know!”

And yeah, Patton was pretty sure he knew. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d had a teen Twilight phase, so of course the obvious answer was there. It just… it wasn’t possible. His brain was scrambling for any kind of other solution, anything that made sense, but it all kept circling to the same answer.

The cute bartender at the inn was a vampire.

…

Okay then.

Next problem.

“I… yeah. I think I got it.”

“Good! Now let’s go!” Roman grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked, effectively pulling him from his hiding place and nearly tearing the arm from it’s socket. Patton stumbled from the sudden movement and tripped on his camera bag, yelping as he crashed into Roman’s chest.

The vampire’s hands instantly wrapped around his waist, steadying him as he found his footing.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, I just-”

Roman was much taller than he’d thought; that was the initial thought that came to mind as he looked up at the man holding him. The second was, well, the fact that his jaw had dropped open upon seeing Patton’s eyes, and for the first time since they’d met, the guy was completely speechless.

Patton felt his left eye began to tingle as they shifted into its own natural color. He ignored it.

“You really didn’t see it? At the bar?” Patton whispered.

“No, you moved too fast,” Roman murmured, bringing a hand up to Patton’s cheek. “You… you’re my-”

He must have sensed something, or heard something that was too quiet for Patton’s ears, because his head whipped towards the castle.

“We need to go. Now.” Roman intertwined their fingers and pulled him into a run towards the town.

“Wait, no! My bag!” He tugged hard to try and get his hand free, but he was truly no match for Roman.

“Not important right now, sweetheart!”

Without the aid of his flashlight, and enveloped by the darkness of the forest, Patton was totally blind, relying only on Roman’s grip to keep him from falling. Branches hit his face and roots reached up to trip him, but every time he stumbled, the hand tightened and pulled him back upright.

A howl cut through the air.

“What now, werewolves?!” Patton shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, werewolves aren’t real!” Roman scoffed, “They’re normal wolves! What, you think just because we’re vampires, we’re unable to have pets?”

“Is this really a conversation we should be having at this exact moment?!” Patton shot back.

“You’re right, you’re right, okay.”

The howls were growing closer, and it was clear by Roman’s increased pace that this wasn’t about to be a friendly reunion.

“Can we outrun them?!”

“I take it you’ve never met a wolf!”

Patton looked up at him desperately, already struggling to keep up the conversation and keep up with Roman.

“I thought vampires had… like, super speed!”

“I wouldn’t be able to go for long, especially carrying you. Jump!”

Patton leapt blindly, feeling the side of a fallen log scrape the toes of his shoes. The landing was rough, sparks of pain shooting up his legs, but he was quickly pulled back upright.

“I don’t have the energy! I haven’t eaten in months!”

There were more yowls, definitely closer this time, followed by the sound of multiple animals fighting, barely louder than a voice shouting (presumably) at the racket. Whether it was the wolves having a spat, or a prey animal that had gotten in the way of the hunt, Patton didn’t know. It drew out a small whimper from him either way.

He didn’t want to be next.

“Do you trust me?” Roman suddenly gasped, holding his hand firmer.

“What?!”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?!”

Patton didn’t exactly think he had a choice right now. His feet were aching, his lungs were burning, and he wasn’t sure he could run another minute without his legs giving out. “I- Yeah! Sure!”

“Good enough,” Roman grunted bitterly, screeching to a halt, and using his grip on the other’s arm to stop him too. Before Patton could even bring himself to complain, or scream at him, or just incoherently yell, the vampire was drawing him to his chest, puppeting his arms so they were around his shoulders.

“Hold on.”

Obediently, Patton tightened the grip. “Why-”

And then there was a sharp pain in his neck, and his eyes widened. The sting almost immediately morphed into a pleasant warmth, the distant howling being replaced by a faint humming, the buzzing of his own mind calming, becoming numb until the only thought in his head was Roman, Roman, Roman-

He could feel Roman’s hand on his head, not restricting it, but cupping the back of it so he could lean against him as he stared up at the night sky, the full moon, and the slow blurring of the tops of the pine trees. His other arm was wrapped around his waist tightly, holding him up, and Patton was beyond grateful for the support as his legs began to turn to jelly. The last thing Patton felt was the vampire scooping up his legs and his head being cradled against the soft material of Roman’s shirt.

Then everything went dark.

-0-0-0-

Patton woke up slowly, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming through his window. He dropped an arm across his eyes lazily, letting out a low groan at his pounding headache. There were voices downstairs in the tavern, and what sounded like dishes clanging, and he wondered if somehow this place was also a restaurant. How on earth could anybody run an establishment like that? It’s like the place never slept-

A wave of nausea pooled in his gut due to the speed of which he sat up but that wasn’t important, not right now. He flung his blankets back and… oh. He was dressed in his pajamas. Last he could remember, in the woods, running with Roman, he’d been in day clothes, in the sweater and shirt that was now draped on a chair across the room. His camera bag was... on the desk. His shoes were by the door, dirt free.

He raised his finger tips to his neck, expecting to feel a raised scab, or scar, any sign that he’d been bitten. There was nothing.

He swung his legs over the sides of the beds and immediately shut his eyes, fighting off an explosion of dizziness induced sparks that shot across his vision. It sure felt as if he’d lost some blood. As much as he didn’t want to believe he had a hangover from one drink, that could also be an explanation. He’d always been a bit of a lightweight.

A dream. Was it all just… a dream?

A feeling of disappointment washed over him and he sighed, running his hands up through his hair. Something soft snagged on his fingers and he carefully detangled it from the curls, pulling it out curiously. He blinked at the fern leaf between his finger tips. That definitely hadn’t happened between his car, the tavern, or the room... So-

He sucked in a breath sharply as his eyes locked with the mirror’s reflection in front of him, every thought coming to a halt.

Because staring back, for the first time ever, were two perfectly blue eyes.

I have a bunch of world building ideas that weren’t included in this fic, shoot me an ask if you have any lore questions!

General taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #vampire au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction

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fragileizywriting · 3 years

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bad day blues

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 10,418 chapter: 1/1 rating: E summary: “How is it that I can sling myself across rooftops for years, day and night, but I can’t even walk in a straight line once I’m out of my suit and end up spraining an ankle?” “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mousey. That’s not good for you.” “I wish I wasn’t such a klutz.” “You’re not.” Luka kisses the top of her head as a punctuation to his words. “You just had a bad day, that’s all.” “One of the worsts in a while,” Marinette nods into his shirt. “Luka? Could you make it better for me?” He laughs. “And you call me the insatiable one, little mouse.” Her eyes sparkle. “Who was the one that jumped me when I was going to go shower after my pool trip with my friends? One look at me in a towel and suddenly my boyfriend’s hands are all on me— sounds pretty insatiable, if you ask me.” AO3 | Start Here To Read The Whole 'Out of The Closet' Series! | Previous Fic in Series | Next Fic in Series

Here's some more Lukanette! Don't worry, there's plenty more incoming, too. This series is so wonderful to write, I'm having so much fun!!! Especially since Luka is my favorite character 🥺

Enjoy <3

She’s having a bad day.

Like, a really bad day.

There is that whole cake ordering business that her parents live off of, that she helps out with. She’s rolled so much fondant out that her arms hurt, and they’re barely attached to her body when she’s rushing out of the door to get to her class when the second bad part of the day happens.

She spills coffee all over herself.

Well, it isn’t her coffee. Her dad’s been getting into the habit of walking around the bakery and the pantry with his mug she got for him for his birthday, a delicate piece of ceramic that is absolutely dwarfed by her father’s large hands. She’d knocked into him while scarfing down some breakfast of her own, where she’d tried to get bits and pieces of it into her mouth while rolling out fondant for that particular eight-tiered cake that is surely going to be the death of her that she still has to pipe and decorate when she gets back from class.

Her blouse is stained, and it’s warm. It doesn’t seep far into her shirt, because her dad presses his apron right on the stain to soak up as much moisture as possible, but she yelps anyway out of sheer instinct.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine! I’m so sorry for making you spill your coffee, baba. Are you okay?” She waves him off with a little smile. These things happen, it’s okay. Besides, smelling like coffee isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t the smell of a particularly expensive perfume, but she can hardly say no to smelling like coffee when she’s lived at a bakery for the entirety of her life.

“I ran into you, sweetheart, not the other way around,” Her dad shakes his head. “Go change your shirt while I get you some packed food to take with you to school for you and Mullo.”

“Thank you! I’ll be right back.” She kisses him on the cheek, making sure to stay clear away from his mug. She rushes up the stairs, trying her best not to accidentally tear her skirt, but isn’t as delicate to her blouse as she could be. The side rips open. She squeaks while getting it off. “Oh, no! I just bought this!”

“Oh! Is everything okay?” Mullo peeks out from the little cubby Marinette’s made into her own little room.

“Yeah— I’m okay! These things happen, don’t worry. I’m just going to change my shirt into something better and then we can head out, okay?” She snaps open a drawer, tossing her soiled top into the laundry bin near her desk. She’s not opposed to wearing other shirts with this particular skirt, but… she really likes wearing that peter pan collar. This is fine. A normal button-up will go fine with the skirt, even though now she looks a lot more formal than she wants to be.

It’s a good thing her bra is nude-colored. She’s already in a rush as it is.

She hasn’t learned a single thing since school was at a walking distance, clearly, because she’s rushing to get to the metro, running back down the stairs, tugging her backpack over her shoulder with Mullo zipping into the pocket of her skirt, and kissing her dad goodbye and thanking him for the food— all the while trying her best to go over the list of things she needed to do before heading off to class.

Feed Mullo, though the little mouse can definitely go scavenging for blueberries whenever she wants. And yet… Mullo starts to whisper that she’s hungry the moment Marinette makes it down the stairs of the metro and goes pawing for her metrocard. She’s grateful that she’s placed a small container of fresh blueberries inside her backpack, with even a portion of small chocolate chips in the screw-top compartment of the container, just for the little mouse— and the small kwami is giggling and back to being happy before Marinette can even blink.

She looks for her metrocard. It’s on the inside of her phone case, which is good, so she’s able to go through the ticket booth with no problem— thank goodness. She doesn’t need another stressor for the day— but she needs to make sure she repays the bill for her monthly pass before the next month arrives so that she isn’t late trying to pay for it the day of, and hopefully she can remember this thought for long enough to write it into her agenda so she doesn’t forget during the week.

Oh, gooseberries. Hopefully she’s not late.

She checks the time on her phone once she’s safely situated inside a subway car, only to look at the turned-off screen with a confused noise. She tries turning on her phone but blinks with so much confusion when the black screen refuses to light.

Wasn’t one of the things on her list to make sure that her phone was charged last night?

What in the world happened to her phone battery?

She tries to think about it, pinning down that the only real reason it would be out of battery would be if Mullo wanted to use it to watch videos or listen to music while Marinette was asleep.

She makes sure to unzip her bag, peering down at the little mouse kwami with inquisitive eyes, trying to understand why her only communication device isn’t charged, speaking in a hushed voice to not alert anyone in the subway car with her. “Lolo, did you watch videos last night?”

Mullo is asleep. At least she remembered to put the lid back onto the container, which is some good news. Marinette can’t feel too upset, looking at the little creature. It’s a good thing she packed her bag and made sure to grab her portable charger— it’s not often that Mullo gets in the habit of overusing Marinette’s phone— but she’s always prepared, just in case. Mullo likes texting Sass, too, though all their texts look like gibberish to her and Luka whenever they try to reread it.

She opens the front pocket zipper with the cute little mouse charm attached to the handle and freezes.

This isn’t her school backpack.

She’s not sure how it didn’t dawn on her before, but this isn’t the right backpack at all.

The only thing it has is a plastic bag with her swimsuit she’d used during the weekend— it’s not exactly dry, given that it’s been in the baggy for at least four days since she’d come back from the pool with her friends. That’s strange— she’s not one to just drop her bag off to the side and not put away her stuff— so, what gives? She chews on her nail while she thinks about what could’ve possibly distracted her from hanging up her swimsuit and letting it dry, and stopped her from putting away this particular backpack, and squeaks to herself when she remembers.

Oh. Right. That’s right.

Viperion had shown up in her room just as she was going to go take a shower— having completed patrol on his own because he wanted her to have fun with friends and go swimming— and since her boyfriend is somehow allergic to learning how to swim, he’d happily shoved her out of the house with the pretense of keeping Paris safe while she relaxes for once in her life— no wonder she’d been so distracted and completely forgot about the backpack.

He’s so insatiable, nowadays, wanting to spend so much time with her that it’s completely pointless to try to keep clothes on around him. He’d taken one good look at her while she was making her way to her bathroom tucked into her towel and had decided to wash her himself— joining her in the shower without even taking his suit off.

She knows that their hexleather is water-resistant— but she didn’t know that it’s enough to keep water from completely entering his suit.

He’d cleaned her inside and out— pressed her up against the bathroom tiles, hopeful that she would keep quiet, as Viperion slicked two fingers inside of her.

The hexagonal grooves on their suits had never been something she’d even considered until now— it was obsession at first touch, in all honesty.

Her back is filled with love bites and possessive teeth marks that make her toes curl in her shoes when she thinks about it more, or remembers it whenever she brushes up against her shoulders. Not to mention she feels a comfortable full-body ache when he finally slips away to go home— she’d spent the rest of that afternoon in bed, curled up, dreaming of the day the two of them can always wake up next to each other.

She shifts in her seat, feeling damp and uncomfortable. She misses him already.

But all of that means… her school backpack is still at home. And she’s carrying nothing except her wet swimsuit, instead of her agenda and planner and notebooks and sketchbooks and pens.

Oh, sugarcubes.

It’s fine, though. These things happen. Sometimes no matter how much she plans and prepares, the universe sometimes throws her for a loop, and that’s okay. A good planner knows how to plan for things going wrong— even if she doesn’t want it to happen in the first place.

In all honesty, this is probably not what Luka meant when he said to let things flow and don’t let things bother her, but it is kind of hard to stop her tendencies to want to plan for the worse.

Okay, so how does she fix this?

She has a lecture that starts in about twenty minutes that she can technically skip out on and go back home to grab her things, assuming she switches subways at the next stop. Since she’ll be late, she might as well change out of her clothes, too, into something much more suited for her. She doesn’t like wearing button-downs— especially since, oh, gooseberries, it looks like she’s missed out on about three buttons and gotten her neckline skewed. There’s no point in even fixing it, as long as she’s able to tuck her miraculous back underneath her shirt without someone seeing it.

What else does she need to do?

Well, she definitely needs to make sure she gets the right backpack the next time she slips through the door. Make sure to bring another container of blueberries, too— she never knows when there’ll be another Akuma, and of all things to not be worried about, this is something she’ll never stop.

Everything will be okay. No worries. The lecture wasn’t that important, she’s sure of it.

The moment she makes that same thought, the subway car slows to a crawl. The lights in the car flicker, and she looks around to the other passengers, hopeful to see anyone who has any idea of what’s going on.

Everyone looks nonchalant. They probably assume it’s an Akuma, at this point.

“We are having technical difficulties,” The subway car emits a tinny, metallic little noise from the speakers near the doors. “Please stay calm and wait while we fix it.”

Marinette groans. Okay, maybe she’ll be late for a lot more than just her first class. This is fine. Things happen. Things like this just happen— she just needs to relax about it. At least it’s not an Akuma— and it’s not like she can be blamed for the subway being stuck.

There’s just nothing to entertain her, though. No pencil, no pen, no paper to doodle and keep her occupied. No phone to listen to music or keep her busy. Just her, the plastic bag with her swimsuit in it, a sleeping kwami, her breakfast, and half a container of chocolate chips. She might as well start eating now, since there’s nothing else to do— eat and think about her boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes.

-*-

She has— well, had— a pop quiz in her missed lecture.

Worth twenty percent of her grade.

She stumbles into the classroom after everyone’s starting to clear out, looking for the professor and her continuously bored glare she gives to the class on the regular. “Uhm, excuse me— sorry, I didn’t attend class today because of the metro—”

“You can’t make it up.” Her professor says, collecting a thick stack of paper into her briefcase. The only professor she’s ever met to actually use a genuine briefcase— it makes her look more like a lawyer and less like an introduction to fashion history professor.

“Make it up?” Marinette blinks, confused. “Make up— make up what, exactly? I wasn’t in class.”

“The quiz. Twenty percent of the grade, of course, because no one in class was answering my questions today for some reason.” Because Marinette’s the one who usually answers for everyone, of course. No one stepped in, probably, because they were most likely too comfortable with her answers to actually come up with one of their own. “You missed out on the quiz. You can’t make it up.”

“Oh.” That’s fine. Things happen. Sometimes the universe just throws curveballs— her grade in this class won’t suffer. “Uhm. Is— is that all I missed?”

Her professor gives her a good look. There’s something in her dull, tired eyes, like she registers who Marinette is in the class— and what she brings to the lecture hall. “I’m going to give you the homework, even though I technically shouldn’t. You’re a good student— you’ve never been late to class— and definitely never missed an entire lecture. And today, without your questions, it was completely and totally quiet.”

“Oh.” She repeats. “Th— uhm. Thank you.”

She pulls out another stack of papers, handing her a stapled group of paper from the top. It looks ridiculously thick— as in— maliciously thick. Maybe at least thirty pages. “Here’s the homework. Make sure to finish it by next class.”

One week to finish the assignment. No problem. She can do that.

“Of course,” Marinette breathes, slightly overwhelmed, looking over the title of the assignment. She has no idea where to begin— the lecture today must’ve been all about it. Maybe she can find one of her classmates and ask about it? Although, she’s never really made a friend here before… “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t make it a habit to skip,” The professor calls out to her as she leaves through the door.

“Understood,” Marinette mutters under her breath. The strap of her kitten heels breaks when she runs her foot too close along the doorframe as she leaves behind her. She trips, falling into her second person with a coffee today, spilling all over her shirt again. This time, it’s cold— it’s an iced latte, of course, and ice cubes fall down her collar and into her shirt, and pain blistering up her ankle.

She tries to walk it off, she really does, but it ultimately just collapses back onto the floor the moment she tries to put pressure on it. Mullo comes out of hiding when she makes sure that there’s no one around, asking if Marinette’s okay— and all she can do is just smile at the little kwami, trying her best not to wince.

Today just isn’t her day, is it?

-*-

By the time an Akuma actually comes around, and tries to do damage in the city of Paris, Multimouse is running on fumes from how close she is to breaking down.

She’s weaved and dodged most of the attacks, relying on her rope to get out of the way. Her ankle doesn’t hurt as much when in the suit, of course, because the magical properties of the miraculous make it so that they focus on the fight first than anything else. She can put her weight on it, which is the good news— and that’s enough for her to walk and run and jump rope when she needs to.

Seeing Viperion is such a blessing. She hasn’t been able to text him much all day, aside from the vague ‘good morning’ text she sent when she finally managed to get her phone to turn on— she’s been too busy to respond to all of the texts he’s sent throughout the day.

Hopefully, she can talk to him after the fight is over. She needs a little bit of downtime.

But she can’t exactly focus on how thankful she is to see him when she’s in the middle of weaseling out of the Akumas grabby hands. She tucks and weaves, snaps her rope out like a whip when she needs to, and does her best to roll out of the way of the Akuma that falls into their trap using the Liberty that sends him spiraling across the city with it. Viperion is nearly on the other side of the city taking care of the sentimonster when she feels her ankle start to blister in pain again, indicating that she’s putting far too much stress on the ankle for even magic to make it stop hurting.

By the time they’ve got the Akuma purified, the sentimonster dealt with, and the victim is in safe care with the social worker from the workforce that’s been assigned to assist people who have just been Akumatized— Multimouse can barely stand up. She chooses, instead, to keep sitting down on the lip of the sidewalk between a couple of parked cars, her legs spread out in front of her, trying her best to seem like she’s just out of breath. She keeps her right boot completely straight, hopeful to not put any more strain on her ankle, but lets her left boot sag against the asphalted road, and tries her hardest not to hide her face in her hands.

Viperion makes his way back to her after he’s done talking to the social worker.

“Mousey?”

“Hi, Vai,” She speaks into her gloves. Some battles are just too difficult for her to focus on, and trying to keep herself from doing something just isn’t worth the effort anymore. “That was a tough one, huh?”

He sits down next to her, shoulder to shoulder. There’s probably not enough space for him in between the cars, since his shoulders are wide, but he makes the effort anyway. Besides, if it’s truly that bothersome, all he has to do is give a gentle push to the car next to him— the miraculous suits give them extra strength, after all— but even without the suit, he’d probably be able to push it forward. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” She leans into him. “I missed you so much.”

“You didn’t text me today like you usually do,” He murmurs into her hair. He’s a thick wall of heat right next to her, and she’s so thankful for him like usual. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is— it’s fine— I’m sorry. I forgot to charge my phone last night, and Mullo was watching videos while I slept, so my phone just went kaput.” She smiles in her hands when he makes a noise meaning that he understands exactly what she means. “I only got to text you when my phone was back on. I’m just tired, really. I’m not having a good day.”

The road is going to be populated soon with whatever foot traffic it usually has, now that the Akuma’s been taken care of. They need to probably get up to higher ground before the people of Paris come out to ask for autographs or selfies— and, okay.

She wants to give everyone the best treatment possible, of course, but she’s in absolutely no condition to do that like this. Definitely not like this.

It’ll be better for everyone’s comfort if she doesn’t stay around to listen to what people have to say about the fight— she’s Paris’s sweetheart, she knows, but if anyone says anything remotely negative in her direction, she’s pretty sure she’ll start crying.

Not to mention that if she hears anything bad about Viperion, she’ll start crying while beating civilians off with a ten-foot pole. She’s not in the mood at all to continue behaving like the sweet little Parisian Princess today— she can’t do it.

“Are you stressed out?”

“Yes. Very much. Ironically, the Akuma was my break from stress. Imagine that?”

He laughs. It’s a loving noise, usually, but there seems to be an edge to it this time. “Do you want me to help you with that? I think I saw an alley over there. Let me help you relax.”

She steams red behind her gloves. Oh, she knows exactly what he means— and, well, the answer is always yes. “Yes— but maybe not here. People are going to show up, soon, and I’m already in pain as it is—”

Viperion looks at her. She can tell because her face starts to prickle underneath her gloves. “Pain?”

She takes a deep breath, looking up at him. His hair is starting to curl around his neck, it’s so lovingly him that she can’t help but comb her fingers into his hair and smooth it back. The confusion on his face morphs into contentment as she takes her time brushing his bangs back, getting a good look at what the top of his domino mask looks like. “Nothing’s wrong— things are fine. Everything is fine. Sometimes things happen, and we can’t control all of it.”

Liquid golden eyes look back at her when she’s done petting through his hair and, he— he smiles at her. Really smiles at her— he knows that she’s trying to repeat the quotes and virtues that he usually says to himself. His smile makes his domino mask crinkle, the scales on his hexleather shimmering turquoise and green, and it’s not exactly a front when she smiles back at him. “That’s true. Sometimes things happen that we can’t control, even if we really try, but sometimes we can fix whatever is hurting us. So what really happened, Mousey?”

“Just a bad day,” She uses her left foot to brush against his, taking her hands back from his hair to follow the scale pattern on his chest. The muscles underneath are no illusion— he’s truly that filled out. She likes physical contact with him, just as much as he loves physical contact with her— and she finds a certain kind of sweetness in the way he leans just slightly into her touch as she traces his collarbone. “I’m not kidding— I’ve been having a really bad day.”

“The Akuma didn’t help all that much, huh?”

She cups his cheeks with her palms. She can’t feel him, because her fingers are covered in protective hexleather, but it means all the same to her when she presses their foreheads together, smooshing their bangs against one another. “I don’t know about that. I’m getting to see you, after all— I love being able to see you, Vai.”

His eyes twinkle as he laughs, giving her a kiss. “Stand up for me? I want to check if you’re missing any body parts.”

“What? I’m not missing anything.” She finds herself laughing at the strange request. “See? Look: I have my two arms, my two legs. Tail is still here, and so is my miraculous.”

“I don’t know about that,” His face is oddly serious, even as she continues to giggle. “Wiggle your fingers for me so I know they’re still there.”

“Vai,” She makes a face as she laughs. When he implores her, she rolls her eyes, twiddling her fingers in the air. “Told you.”

“All ten fingers?”

“I think so,” She breaks into a grin. What is this man on about?

“Let’s see.” He takes her hands in his, bringing every single finger up to his mouth so he can count them with a kiss. “One. Two.”

“Oh my gooseberries. Vai,” She giggles hard enough for her shoulders to shake.

“Don’t make me lose count, Mousey, this is important. Three, four—”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?”

“I think it’s the other way around, honestly. Five, six— how did I get so lucky to have you?”

“By treating me like this,” She can’t help but bite her lip when he makes it past seven and eight. “By treating me so sweetly.”

“Sue me, little mouse. I like treating my girlfriend well. Nine, and ten.” At the tenth finger, he kisses where her fingernail would be, then her knuckle, then the back of her hand. He kisses up her arm, too, all the way up to her shoulder as she snorts and giggles, until he tilts his head and kisses her against the jaw, finally completing his quest and kisses her softly on the lips— she melts. He keeps the kiss soft, though— and if her ankle wasn’t rolled, she’d honestly climb into his lap for more than just something so chaste. She deserves it, after this horrible day— and he always makes her feel loved and comforted. “I think your hands are okay.”

“You think so?” She feels a little dopey from the kiss.

“Move your feet, too, so I can figure out if your legs are still attached.”

She moves her left foot only, letting her right boot rest. Instead, she pulls up her right leg, hoping to look like she’s just switching up her sitting position, but that’s enough for Viperion to break eye contact with her and look at her knee. “See?”

But he’s smarter than that. “Ah, there it is. So you did injure yourself during the fight?”

“No. I— uhm— no. Not during the fight.” She’s not lying, but her smile dies down as a quiet contemplation morphs on his face. “It’s— I’m fine, Vai, honestly, I’m okay. My ankle will be fine after some ice, I’m sure—”

“Oh, Mousey.” He looks hurt for her, immediately swiveling in his seat to look her over. He grabs gently for both of her legs, lifting them up to place in his lap, and gently starts to move her foot at the ankle back and forth.

The first leg is the good one, so she barely even reacts— let alone blinks— to him swiveling her ankle around and testing the elasticity. But her bad ankle— oh— it’s enough to make her start to squirm.

His eyebrows pinch when she continuously flinches, her half-sentient tail batting against the asphalt behind her as she tries her hardest not to cry out in pain. He supports the back of her ankle with his palm, and doesn’t let her foot rotate when he puts her leg back in his lap. “When did this happen, baby girl?”

“It happened at school,” She hides her face back into her gloves. “Just the cherry on top, honestly. I fell and twisted my foot. I thought I was okay, but— I can’t walk in my civilian form.”

“School? And you fought the Akuma while injured? Oh, Mousey— I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have let you stay alone with the Akuma if I had known. What else happened? Tell me what’s wrong.” She feels the gentle pressure of his thumb against her calf, even through the hexleather. “Maybe I can help you. I sure want to try, at least.”

Why is he so gentle with her? Why is Viperion always so sweet and soft to her— kind and loyal?

She knows why— there is the whole ‘they’re dating’ part of the answer— but honestly, how did it get this way? When did Viperion become the boy she fights crime with, day or night, live or die— to the man who snags her just before her showers, who makes it a habit to make her toes curl every time he sees her, who is happiest when she cuddles and routinely hides in his bed with? How in the world has she gotten this lucky?

How? How did she get so lucky to have a man so conditioned to care about her?

Why did he ever fall in love with someone like her— someone who needs everything to be in its place or else she has a nervous breakdown? Someone that loses her demeanor when there’s even a slightest mistake, because everything needs to be perfect or it’s not worth doing at all and— and— why would he even stay with someone like her like this? Why? She’s completely the opposite of him— so— why does he stay and deal with someone so completely different than him in every single aspect?

The thought is enough to make her cry— and— oh— that’s it, really. That’s what makes her push over the edge and start hiccuping into her hands, tears falling down her cheeks. “Oh—”

“Mousey, it’s okay. Shh. Your ankle will get fixed up in no time, okay? We can fix this.”

“I’m sorry,” She says, more to herself than anything else, gesturing to her leg before hiding back in her hands. She sags against him so easily when he pulls her onto his lap. “I’m sorry— I’m so sorry, Vai. It’s not just— just the ankle— I’m just—”

“I know.”

“And— such a bad day—”

“Breathe, Mousey,” He traces circles against her back.

She gasps for breaths between sobs. “And I just— I really did try to not let it get to me— I really tried—”

“You did very good. You are doing very good.”

“It really hurts, Vai, I’ve never rolled my foot before, it’s so painful— and I know I’m going to be in more pain when I’m out of the suit. I’m so exhausted, Vai— today has been so difficult.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Where does she begin? “So much coffee on my shirt, I smell like an espresso machine—”

He listens to her ramblings, even if they don’t make any sense without the full context. He’s gentle when he shifts her even closer, making sure that her foot doesn’t hit up against the car next to them, tucking her in next to his collarbone and letting her cry it all out. His chest is so warm against her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“And then the subway— and I don’t have more blueberries for Lolo right now because she ate them all already, even after I went back home and refilled her cup—”

“We can get more in my house, it’s okay. All the blueberries Mullo could want.”

“And I was also stuck in the subway for two full hours with just a swimsuit—”

“You went on the subway with only a swimsuit on?” He makes a face. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“In my bag,” She explains, even if it doesn’t make much sense, sniffling around her gloves. “I mean— I picked up the wrong backpack— the wrong bag— before leaving the house and it was just my swimsuit in there— the subway got stuck and I thought it was because of an Akuma so I was just—”

“Take a breath, Mousey.”

She sucks in a breath, trying to fill her lungs in all the way, before the inevitable fresh wave of tears that she continues to border on. “And I— I couldn’t— even text you. I couldn’t, because my battery was out— and I was underground— and— oh, sugarcubes, I was so bored— I just kept coming up with more and more ways to sneak off the train without being seen because there was nothing else to do and I ended up overthinking everything.”

Everything. All of it. Every single thing. If she’s doing well in school— if what she’s trying to get a degree in is even worth it— if she’s wasting her time not focusing on defeating Hawkmoth— if Viperion even finds her necessary in fights. After all, most of what she does is just a distraction for him to get close and defeat the Akuma— but there’s not really a genuine need for her since all he has to do is move his ouroboros miraculous over to the side and turn back time and do whatever needs to be done, right?

“I thought about how you’re so much better without me during Akuma battles— I thought how much of a klutz I am— I thought about how I always have these nervous breaks whenever something goes wrong and you always just deal with them and I wish I could just stop worrying about every little thing without making it into a thing— and— and—”

Gentle hands make it to her wrist, and she looks up, sniffling and biting her lip. Viperion’s smile looks soft on his face as he wipes away her tears— golden eyes looking at her like she’s the most important thing in the world. He kisses her forehead, her cheeks— her nose, too— all in favor of getting a smile back onto her face. “None of that is true, okay? There’s no need to overthink about any of it anymore. You’re okay, you’re here— exactly where I need you to be. You are the entire reason why Paris is safe every day— I’m just here to keep you company, in all honesty. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, little mouse, and I absolutely cannot do any of this without you.”

Amazing woman? Has he met his own mother before? “But— what about your family—”

“I’m aware of what I’ve said,” He smiles. “I don’t deal with your problems, we deal with our problems. You getting worked up about something is something we both work on together— I’m not going to let you suffer alone when you’re nervous about something.”

She blinks slowly at him, her lashes damp and full of tears, only being able to offer him a watery and a heartful: “Oh.”

He nods, encouraging her to smile back. “Everything’s going to be fine, just like it always is, okay? You’re not a klutz. You’re doing great. Everything is going to be fine.”

“But—”

“Breathe, Mousey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She looks at him in the eyes, her breath slowing down, looking around them to see just how empty the street is. It’s an unpopulated street to begin with, so there are only a couple of shops at the corners, nowhere near them where they sit in between the cars, catching their breath from the battle. “I’m— I’m going to be okay. I am okay.”

“You’re okay.” He nods, smiling gently, taking her hands in his.

“I’m— I’m fine.” She takes another breath. She still feels watery, still feels like a wet sponge, but it’s a little easier to breathe. “Sometimes days just don’t go my way, no matter how much I plan for it.”

“Good, good— but you’re forgetting the second half of that.”

“The second half?”

“For every day that it happens, whenever your days don’t go right, I’ll be right here for you to cry on because you and I have always been a team.” He kisses her bangs, smoothing his gloves at the back of her head, behind the buns in her hair. “As much as I don’t like seeing you cry, baby girl, I know that I’d rather see that, than have you bottle it up inside.”

She sniffles, giving him a little smile when he pulls away to gauge her reaction. “Thank you, Vai.”

“I love you.” He kisses her on the lips again.

“I love you, too.” She ducks her head as a blush stains her cheeks underneath her domino mask. “Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For crying on you and turning this into a mess.”

“My girlfriend seeking out comfort from me— what a scandal, little mouse,” He teases with a flash of his fangs. “How dare my Mousey want reassurance from me.”

She has the reflex to giggle, even though there’s a bit of tears still trying to make its way down her face. “It’s probably not what you had in mind for today, huh?”

“All I had was work today,” He wipes at her cheek again. “The Akuma is always unpredictable, but it’s not like your parents don’t know why I have to leave the register when our phones start to ding with the Akuma notification, right? And I’m always thinking of you, so, in a way this is sort of what I had in mind.”

She kisses him. It’s not as quick as it should be— it definitely isn’t as innocent as it has to be, given that they’re in public and they haven’t technically told the public yet that Viperion and Multimouse are more than just a duo, not to even mention that they’re a lot, lot more than a duo now, if her wandering hands are any indication— but she breaks away just before she has the urge to shift her position on him, laughing softly when he narrows his eyes at her. “We should— uhm— probably go back, right? Your mom is probably calling your phone right now, asking why in heaven’s name you picked the Liberty for the trap location— Alya will be here any moment now to ask things for the Ladyblog.”

“Hmm? What did you say? I was too busy living in the moment of hearing you laugh again. Such a sweet melody.” He looks back up to her from looking at her ankle. She has no idea what’s going on in that head of his— and it bothers her, because she so desperately wants to know, even as he gives her a wink and a smile.

She’s so thankful for this man. So ridiculously thankful.

She bites her lip to stop herself from smiling harder. “We need to go. Out of here. And I need a favor.”

“I’ll do whatever you need, Mousey. What is it?”

“I need you to marry me.”

His eyes widen, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean— I mean carry—” She gasps, hiding her hands behind her mouth. “Oh gooseberries— I’m so sorry. Sorry! I meant carry, I promise! Slip of the tongue, oh sugarcubes— I’m so sorry— that’s not what I meant at all.”

“Breathe, Mousey, come on.” He snorts so hard that he has to hide his face behind his hands, shoulders shaking in mirth. “Obviously I’ll carry you. That’s without question— I’m not letting you walk like that. Come on, let’s get you back home.”

-*-

Marinette’s finally sleeping by the time he’s back into her room.

They’ve wrapped and bandaged her foot, kept it elevated and out of the way for her. She sleeps soundly, even as he struggles with her trap door to not make any noise. He’s not good at being quiet when he really tries— the universe is always out to get him whenever he tries to do something quietly. Or maybe he just gets too self-aware of himself.

“How’s she doing, Sass?”

“She’s been sleeping for the whole time since you brought her home,” The little kwami answers just as softly. There’s a couple of doll-sized lounge chairs on her nightstand, as well as a small little dining table with a couple of cushioned seats— it looks like a playset, in all honesty, but they’re the perfect size for the two kwamis to sit and eat away at their food.

Sass looks like he’s finished with his eggs, which is good to see. Mullo is still working on her blueberries, chewing through each one almost anxiously as the two kwamis watch Marinette rest. He’s never known just how many blueberries is enough for Mullo, so he’d grabbed a heavy container full of it and put it in a small basket to keep her entertained.

“Is her foot going to be okay?” Mullo squeaks out.

“She’ll be fine,” Luka sits on the floor to be at eye level with the kwamis. He takes a couple of berries in his hands to snack on in order to have something to do. “She’s never hurt her ankle before, so it’ll heal up fast. Master Fu wrapped it up for her, after all— her uncle wouldn’t lie, would he?”

Both kwamis nod in agreement.

“I feel like this is all my fault,” The little mouse makes a face. “I should’ve helped her today, I shouldn’t have been quiet the entire time. Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Maybe I could’ve told her she was taking the wrong bag— or maybe I could’ve remembered to plug in her phone. I fell asleep watching videos on mermaid history, I’m pretty sure— I don’t think the videos were worth her twisting her foot.”

Sometimes kwami and holder are really alike, huh? Even the face that Mullo makes is so reminiscent of Marinette, it’s incredible— he tries his best not to smile lovingly but can’t help himself. “It isn’t your fault at all, Mullo. There’s no point in thinking about what you should’ve done— all of it has already happened. It’s okay.”

“She’s never gotten injured like this before for as long as I’ve known her— and you said earlier that she hasn’t torn any muscles since I was given to Luka. Her ankle will heal before you know it.” Sass is quick to pet his friend’s arm. “But until then, she definitely won’t be able to act should an Akuma arrive.”

The room goes silent again as the three of them settle back into what they were doing. Sass is curled up, of course, enjoying the luxury of the little doll chair that is stuffed to the brim with cotton and sewn expertly shut. The dollhouse furniture looks well-loved, though— he’s under the assumption that Marinette most likely bought second-hand miniature sets for Mullo to play house in when she had first been given the mouse miraculous. There’s no dollhouse in sight around anymore, but the bookcase near Marinette’s bed still has two cubbies empty in favor of a little curtain pulled open to reveal two fake little rooms.

There’s a little closet rack full of little clothes. There are hats lined up against the bookshelf wall with two slits on the sides to make space for Mullo’s ears. There’s a doll bed with a blanket and a cushion— there’s a couch and potted plants all made out of felted material in order to decorate the space. A rug, too, underneath all the furniture.

All of these little trinkets and toys, so loved and cared for by a young girl and the love she has for her mouse— now something cherished by a young woman. “You know, I’ve always wanted to ask— how long have you two known her?”

“The Cheng family has always kept the miraculouses safe,” Mullo bites into another blueberry. “We’ve been passed down for generations.”

“Well, usually. Master Fu is the guardian right now, but he’s making sure that Marinette is the next guardian.”

“I know that, yes— but I meant Marinette specifically. How long have you two known Marinette?” He turns to her, wondering if she’s in any pain. The inflammatories must be working well in her system because there’s nothing on her face that indicates that her foot’s been wrapped and bandaged to stay still.

“We’ve known her ever since she was little. About eight years old, maybe? All of the kwamis loved playing house with her— the little princess was always so sweet and lovable. Growing up an only child was really lonely for her, so we played with her whenever we could.” The dollhouse furniture makes a lot more sense now. “You name it, we played it. Hide and seek, dollhouse, tea time, dress up— princess and the knight, too.”

Of course Marinette would’ve made them little clothes, how could she have resisted? The idea is adorable.

“Kaalki would frequently run away from Master Fu’s place in order to come play with her. Who could blame him? I for one loved it when it was tea time. Princess always made deviled eggs, just for me.” Sass slips his eyes shut to sleep. He always gets tired after eating his share of eggs following an Akuma attack— Luka’s thankful he works at a bakery, where eggs are plenty.

Sass is out like a light.

Mullo giggles to herself, holding a giant blueberry between her two paws, turning to him in her little chair, speaking as quietly as possible. Marinette may be asleep for longer, but Sass’s hearing is always so sensitive— they don’t want to wake either of them up. “I just ended up being the lucky one that got to stay with her. All of the other kwamis were really upset when they heard that I was her permanent friend— especially Kaalki. They all loved playing with her. We’re sure that Plagg and Tikki will love her, once we find them again.”

So much history between Marinette and the kwamis. No wonder Sass was so happy when they’d finally revealed their identities to one another. “Hey, Mullo— how come she didn’t tell me about her ankle?”

“She didn’t want to worry you.” Mullo replies in her soft, tiny voice. “You both needed to focus on the Akuma first.”

But in the end, she’d hurt herself. What he wouldn’t give to second-chance her ankle back to normal— but it’s been hours, not minutes, since it happened.

He takes his time eating the handful he’s picked from Mullo’s basket. The blueberry is sweet in his mouth, and tasteful, and something quiet to do while he looks at Marinette’s sleeping form. She’s working herself too hard, isn’t she? Trying to keep up with all the things at university— and trying to keep up with everything at home— and definitely trying to keep up with Akumas on top of it all. They haven’t technically even been on dates together, if that’s something she even wants, because her life is so full. It’s commendable, but watching the girl of his dreams get pulled in all different directions makes him understand entirely why a multitasking miraculous is the perfect one for her.

“You should rest, Luka. It’s getting really late.”

“I don’t know if I should— I don’t want to accidentally wake her up.”

“She’ll be more upset if she wakes up and you’re not in bed with her,” Mullo argues. He smiles, because he can’t help the humor at the sincerity of her words. “You should join her.”

He’d have to take off his jeans, and go pawing for one of his shirts she’s stolen from his room in order to not get flour all over her bed, but it’s doable. Her parents already know he’s up here, after all— he’s said he was going to check up on her once his shift ended. Her parents had let him go without barely any warning gaze— in fact, Mrs. Cheng had implored him to spend the night and make sure Marinette didn’t attempt to run off, in case another Akuma were to pop up.

They trust that he’s a good person and will actually stop her from leaving the house. And he doesn’t want to disappoint.

The last thing he wants to do is go back home and listen to the absolute earful he’ll be getting from his mom about using the Liberty as bait, so he’s going to camp out in Marinette’s room after sending about a billion and one heart emojis to Juleka, hoping she’ll try to keep their mom out of trouble.

Maybe it’d been a bad idea to tell his family about his identity— just his family in general. It’s safer this way, now that his family knows, so there won’t be any nasty revelations down the line and his family won’t turn into Akumas (and if he has to fight Reflekta or Captain Hardrock any more times in his life, he’s going to quit) but now there’s the added bonus of his mom knows why he disappears all the time.

So.

Heart emojis sent to Juleka it is.

“And what about you? Won’t you be going to bed?”

“I’m still hungry, so I need to dip downstairs and get some more food, if that’s okay. Or, better yet— do you want me to take Sass downstairs with me when I go?”

He raises a brow. Surely she doesn’t mean to imply… “She’s— Marinette— come on, Mullo. She’s injured.”

“I’m not sure she needs her ankle for that!”

This doesn’t top the weirdest conversation he’s ever had, but this is definitely up there. “And she’s asleep— I’m not comfortable with the idea.”

“She’ll wake up soon. You should ask her then, obviously.”

“Mullo.”

“You’re two aren’t our first holders, you know, we’ve done this so many times before.” Mullo giggles behind a paw. “So, do you want privacy? If you don’t, I’ll stay right here. Mari likes to tell us that we’re as scary as actual dolls, sometimes, with our beady little eyes.”

No one has to tell him that. He learned the hard way when he’d woken up the first time with Sass looking straight at him. Beady little eyes indeed— it’d scared him shitless and almost caused him to scream at a bleary five in the morning. Sass is a terrifying little creature when he wants to be.

“Maybe it’s a good idea to give us a bit of time.” He tries not to blush when Mullo tilts her head in acknowledgment. “I don’t think she wants anything except sleep, but, who knows.”

“We’ll give you all the time you two need,” The little mouse nods. She grabs Sass’s sleeping form by a paw, taking one last bite out of the remaining blueberry, before the two of them phase through the floorboards down below. Sometimes kwamis are weird little creatures with all of their powers, honestly— he’s gotten used to Sass appearing out of thin air in his attempts to scare him, but it’s always so concerning to see it happen without that context.

He lifts himself up from the floor, peeling open some of her drawers in search of one of his shirts. She’d taken his pleading to heart, and now has a steady collection of his clothes starting to grow and multiply in her closet— he’s running out of his own clothes, honestly, but he can’t say no when she smiles at him like she always does before squirreling away a new shirt into her bag when she wants to keep a piece of him with her.

He should probably take some of these shirts home with him, though. If the point was for her to smell like him, well, he should probably make it happen.

He folds his shirt and jeans. Marinette doesn’t have piles of clothes everywhere unlike him, so he makes the executive decision to stack his clothes on her desk chair. By the time he’s going back up the ladder over to her bed, Marinette’s shifted onto her side, facing him— she wakes up the moment he tries to shimmy his way under the covers with her.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi.” She has pieces of her hair catching in her eyelashes— he brushes it away, shifting closer to her. Her entire bed smells of faint traces of lavender, what a nice scent. “How are you feeling, Mousey?”

“A lot better,” She’s quick to smile, even as she’s groggy from sleep. Adorable. “Probably because of the amount of pain killers I’m on right now, though.”

He laughs. “Master Fu told me you don’t usually take painkillers. You must just completely relax under it, then, since your body isn’t used to it.”

“I don’t think I tore anything, did I?”

“No, I don’t think so. Your uncle said you’re fine, after all, but you should just stay out of commission for this week until you can put weight on that foot again.”

She looks so disappointed. “Where’s Lolo?”

“Downstairs. She’s probably eating through your entire pantry at the moment.”

“And Sass?”

“Went with her. Mullo took him to give us privacy. Are you okay?”

He should’ve known better than to relax his guard around her. The moment he’s completely at ease in bed, she grabs for him, pulling him so close to her that they’re perfect puzzle pieces. “How is it that I can sling myself across rooftops for years, day and night, but I can’t even walk in a straight line once I’m out of my suit?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mousey. That’s not good for you.”

“I wish I wasn’t such a klutz.”

“You’re not.” He kisses the top of her head as a punctuation of his words. “You just had a bad day, that’s all.”

“One of the worsts in a while,” She nods into his— hers?— shirt. “Luka? Could you make it better for me?”

He laughs. “And you call me the insatiable one, little mouse.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Who was the one that jumped me when I was going to go shower after my pool trip with my friends? One look at me in a towel and suddenly my boyfriend’s hands are all on me— sounds pretty insatiable, if you ask me.”

How can she blame him? She has such soft and delicate skin. Everywhere.

He loves touching and feeling her up whenever she lets him and asks him to. Not to even mention her ass— god— he could write so many songs just about it— he likes biting her everywhere he can, and he’s sure he’d done exactly that while sneaking his way into her shower box. Marinette always takes to bruising really well when it comes to him teething at her, she blossoms into hickies whenever he has his mouth on her. Not to even mention just how excited and turned on she was when he’d finally fingered her to completion.

“I don’t believe you were complaining, were you? Besides, I was just giving my girlfriend what she likes the most.”

She snorts and giggles. “And what is that?”

“Word is around here that she really likes Viperion. Has lots of fantasies about him— and, hey, I’m a pretty understanding guy. If my girlfriend wants to call out his name instead of mine, I get it.” He loves it when she laughs this hard— it’s always so much better to hear her laugh than it is to hear her stay quiet and in her thoughts. “It’s a good thing he likes helping out, too. The guy’s taken a real liking to my girlfriend, even though I’ve heard that him and Multimouse are a thing.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She smiles against his mouth. She’s feeling a lot better now, he can tell, because her hands disappear under his— seriously, hers?— shirt, teasing all of the skin available to her. Her fingers are ticklish against his chest and abs— she’s just as handsy as he is, most of the time.

“Insatiable,” He kisses her before pulling down the covers.

Her sleepshirt is soft and stretchy in his hands, and it’s easy to pull it up enough so he can kiss her stomach and hip at the waistband of her panties. He’s careful with her leg, of course— he doesn’t want to move it, just to make sure the wraps on her ankle don’t come undone by accident. He helps her out of her underwear slowly and gently, pulling the cute panties off so he can get her completely bare.

Such cute underwear. But then again, he’s always a little biased to anything green or blue— and the mint green color is adorable on her pale skin. The cut is cute, too— he doesn’t know enough about women’s underwear styles, but these are a lot cuter on her than he’d imagined. They rest just at her hip, with a pretty little scalloped edge that is just a smidge too Marinette for him to reasonably handle.

But he likes her better naked, of course.

“You’re already this wet?”

“Don’t tease, Luka.” Her hands disappear under her shirt. He doesn’t get to exactly see what she does underneath with her fingers, but it doesn’t take much brainpower to recognize the arching of her back like she always gets whenever he’s pinching at her nipples.

He follows the line she’s made with her body with an appreciating gaze, kissing up and down her thigh so slowly that she makes a frustrated noise. “Awh, don’t be like that, Mousey. Tell me why you’ve soaked through your underwear, I’m curious.”

She groans. “I thought of you the entire time I was in that stupid subway.”

Oh, did she? “No wonder you’ve been so tense today.”

She makes eye contact with him after a little flinch and a little exhale— she must’ve pinched herself just enough to make it count. “I was thinking about what you did to me in the shower. You’re such a glutton, Vai.”

He grins at her. Oh, he loves it when she calls him that. “I’m not so sure about that.”

And gives her what she needs.

He takes his time licking between her legs, even though she’s wet enough that it wouldn’t take much effort at all to slip his fingers into her. He likes this part, personally, even to the point where he shifts his hips down into the mattress to alleviate some of the pressure building at the base of his spine, starting to get desperate himself. It’s always so satisfying to go down on her— the noises she makes are always so attractive, and he loves making her come without much regard to himself. Marinette isn’t loud when she vocalizes her likes and dislikes, but not because she doesn’t want to be— she always hides her mouth behind her hands— and it always feels like a contest.

Today is no exception.

Her ribs heave under her shirt as he licks and licks, swirling his tongue at the place she loves the most. Her sighs are soft and sweet, even as he pulls her good leg up and over his shoulder, burying his face into her cunt as she makes a noise halfway between an exhale and a laugh.

“Who’s the glutton now?”

He makes a humming noise, not exactly interested in answering her question— he’s more in favor of showing. He’s glad to help, after all— pulling noise after noise from her when he licks his way into her, digging his tongue in as far as he can possibly reach. Her hips lift, using his shoulder as an anchor, and she moans— but still, again, it’s so soft and nearly quiet like she doesn’t want anyone to know what they’re up to. Always so considerate of others.

Cute.

By the time he’s got two fingers dipping into her, she’s wound up tight already. He can tell by the way she twitches, how she bites the fleshy part of her thumb— and how she bites harder when he uses his free hand to cup her ass and give her a squeeze. Soft. Soft soft soft.

God, so deliciously soft.

“Luka,” She whispers, trying her absolute hardest to stay quiet as he curls his fingers into her. Her free hand makes it to his hair, brushing it back so sweetly— she’s more cuddly this way, than an actual sexual deviant, like she’s desperate for reassurance. “Please please please?”

He loves it when she starts to beg for more and asks for more physical touch whenever he makes a home between her legs.

“Easy, Mousinette. Take a breath,” He kisses her thighs, liking the way how her thighs get sticky and messy with it. She sucks in a breath at his suggestion, looking at him with her hazy, pretty eyes. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“Yes—” She cuts herself off with a particular sigh that makes him piston his fingers more into her. She reaches down with the hand that was in his hair, gesturing for his hand underneath her to join her. “Could you— oh— please—”

“There you go. That’s it. Come whenever you want, baby girl.” He intertwines his fingers and clasps hands with hers, giving her one last swirl and flattening of his tongue, before he feels her start to come on his fingers.

“Luka—” He doesn’t let up once he recognizes the exhale, or the squirming— especially not when he feels the attractive fluttering of her walls. She squeezes and squeezes, milking his fingers desperately.

He can deal with his erection later. For now, he slowly eases his fingers out of her, and kisses her thigh again when she complains about the loss of his hand between her legs. “How are you feeling, Mousey? Better?”

“Always am when I’m with you. Sex or no sex.” And— oh— if he wasn’t so desperately hard in his boxers, he’d fall in love with her on the spot all over again. She’s always so honest with him— it’s always such a shock, even when he knows that’s just how her personality is. He watches her eyelids struggle to keep open, even as she raises her hands up in an attempt to coerce him to bed— barely clothed, with a sleep shirt that covers nothing except her chest and her shoulders at this point. “Come cuddle? ‘M tired. I want my boyfriend.”

“Probably not a good idea. I’m going to end up dry humping you— I’m so fucking horny.”

“Vai…” It’s so heartbreakingly cute that she tries to be stern even while falling asleep. “Cursing.”

“Sorry,” He laughs, gesturing to himself even though she’s not really looking at him. “I’ll be right back. I should probably go take care of my di— uhm, I mean, this— in your bathroom, and wash my hands too.”

Her face unpinches. “But what about cuddling?”

“I will after I clean you up,” He kisses the lines of her abs— pulling her shirt down enough to get comfortable. “If you fall asleep can I still towel you off? You know I don’t like it when you’re left messy.”

“Always take good care of me.” She mumbles, completely oblivious to the way he hides his steaming face behind his hands. She nods a confirmation, patting the spot next to her. “And then after cleaning come cuddle. Please.”

By the time he’s made himself orgasm while thinking of her, and washed his hands clean of her, and made sure that she’s no longer sticky between the legs— Marinette is still bravely putting up a fight with sleep. He helps her put on some new underwear, making sure that she doesn’t move her ankle as much when he does it— but he’s completely caught by surprise when she pulls him in for a hug— and, honestly— he should know better by now.

He loves it, though.

So much.

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#fragileizyfic #fragileizylukanette #pro lukamari #pro lukanette #viperion #multimouse #fragileizywrites

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radiorenjun · 3 years

Text

Rain Rituals || Z.CL

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Genre: Comedy, fluff

Summary: Chenle's high school life was more than tedious to say the least. That is when he caught you screaming under the rain.

Warning: fluff. Comedy. Mentions of detention. Second hand embarrassment. Cliché

Wordcount: 2.8K (it's short)

A/n: please ignore my terrible editing skills and happy birthday Chenle!

Chenle was just a simple rich high school boy who, like any other student, just wants to get school and exams over with as soon as possible. He was bored of waking up everyday only for the same exact thing to happen over and over again.

Wake up. Eat. Go to school. Endure hell for 6 hours straight. Go home. Eat. Study. Sleep.

Repeat.

It was boring to say the least. Chenle wanted something to spice up his life, anything to make life more worth living. He wasn’t one to pay attention to whatever’s happening around him, he just wasn’t interested. But one faithful day, a chaotic social hazard of a Chemistry classmate of his decided to change that. Well, technically, the situation was unexpected and absolutely ludicrous for the young boy’s mind to comprehend.

It was a cold, raining evening. Chenle was just getting out of basketball practice, sweat trickling down his forehead as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. Chenle was just on his way to the parking lot, fumbling with the car keys in his hand, his uniform blazer draped over his head to prevent him from getting even more wet than he already is.

A loud scream pierced the quiet atmosphere, causing Chenle to flinch at the sudden sound. His head rapidly turned to see where the scream had come from before his eyes squinted at a blurry figure standing in the middle of the school garden.

‘What the fuck?’

Curiosity kills the cat, as they say.

Chenle went closer to the figure who let out another alarming scream, his brows furrowed in confusion as the figure became clearer and clearer with every step. The soles of his new Air Jordan’s making soft sounds as they made contact with the puddles that formed on the ground.

He leaned his head to the side when he was close enough to see the figure clearly. His eyes widened to see none other than you, the class clown of his grade. Also known as ‘That Girl Beside Me Who Wrote Three Pages Worth Of A Test Answer To Spite The Teacher’.

You were quite infamous for your extroverted demeanor. Making friends and cracking jokes left and right as if it was as simple as breathing air. Joking around and riling up teachers as if they were your closest friends.

To Chenle, you were quite peculiar.

But the sight before him was more than odd. You were standing soaking wet in the rain with your arms stretched out, your hair sticking to your forehead as you leaned your head up as if you were doing some kind of satanic ritual or religious sacrifice.

You let out another scream before groaning in frustration. “Jesus Christ!” you cursed out, kicking a puddle with your shoes as if it would do anything to make your frustrations go away.

Chenle just stood awkwardly not far behind you as he watched you throw a mini tantrum for whatever reason, his pupils dilating in concern with a frown on his lips. ‘This is just sad and embarrassing,’ he thought with a shake of his head.

The second hand embarrassment Chenle felt as he watched you push your wet hair back, letting the raindrops hit your face was almost as extravagant as the time when he watched his seniors attempt to flirt with one of his classmates.

A part of him wanted to just leave before someone (or you) catches him staring at you with a look of disappointment and sympathy. But another part of him was interested to see what you were whining on about in the middle of a heavy rain at 4:57 PM in the evening when you could be doing all this nonsense in the comforts of your own home like a normal person.

“God dammit!” you cursed once again. “Why the fuck am I single!?”

Chenle’s frown deepened when he heard those words exit your mouth. ‘Seriously?’ he thought with a click of his tongue, ‘she’s screaming out here like a lunatic all because she’s single?’

“Come on! Being single is a choice, right? I didn’t choose to be the only single one in all of my friend groups, so why the fuck am I single?” You rambled, letting out a loud groan afterwards. Chenle shook his head in disappointment, he wanted to walk away instead of looking at whatever you were doing. But yet again, he was far too entertained to even look away.

“Oh God.” you clasped your hands together, intertwining your fingers and shutting your eyes tighty. “ If you can hear me up there. If you can hear me screaming my lungs out like a lunatic. Please, oh please, give me a fucking boyfriend! I think I deserved that much for being good for all my life, right?” You paused at the last part, opening an eye as if to rethink your words before you shut them tight again. “Well for the most part of it, anyways!” you added.

Chenle couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, his arms crossing as he let out a soft laugh. ‘This is just getting really sad, I almost feel bad for her.’ he thought before looking down at his Apple Watch, eyes widened at what time it was. He turned to make a run to his car, pulling out his car keys to unlock it.

As Chenle dried himself off with the spare towel he usually keeps in the compartment box of his car, he made a mental note to himself to bring this up to you the next time he sees you. He’s sure that your reaction to him having blackmail is just going to be absolutely satisfying.

You were sitting in your desk, listening to your friend ramble about the things she did with her significant other after school the other day. A small sad smile forming on your lips as you try to listen to her conversation without feeling too sad about your pathetic, almost nonexistent, love life.

But yet again, it’s been a couple of days since you threw a tantrum at the school garden. Cursing at the sky and rain to give you a boyfriend. Only for the principal to come up to you to tell you to go home and get some rest, her expression filled with worry and concern. She probably thought you had your screws loose. And honestly, you couldn’t blame her.

You screamed till the boys at the basketball team had already gone home, your parents scolding you for being out so late in the rain. You spent two days in bed with a fever, worrying if anyone saw you acting like a delusional maniac for two hours straight. But you were relieved to see that it’s been a while since your little outburst and nobody had brought up the topic of you screaming and yelling in the middle of the rain.

Not even the janitors.

That is until you had your Chemistry class.

Your desk mate, who was none other than the infamous Chinese rich boy, Chenle came up to you with a grin spread across his face. You had never spoken to Chenle before, mostly because he was quite cute and you didn’t know what to say to someone so adorable and quiet.

You were just minding your own business, jotting down notes that your friend lent you because you couldn’t make it to school last class because of said fever. “Hey,” Chenle greeted, nodding at you as he placed his bag on his chair. You look up in surprise, eyes widening slightly at the fact that Chenle was actually talking to you and starting a conversation with you.

“Hi?” your throat was dry as your mind went blank, trying to use your extrovert powers to desperately try to come up with something to keep the conversation going. “What’s up?” you added, looking down at your notebook as you continued jotting down notes. Chenle sat on his chair, staring at you with a suspicious smirk spread across his lips.

“Can I ask you something?”

You hummed a small ‘yes’ under your breath, eyes scanning your notes.

“You have to answer it truthfully, though.”

You replied with another small hum, nodding slightly.

“Were you that girl screaming like a lunatic in the middle of the rain the other day?” he asked with a casual hum. His words made your hand stop writing, your eyes going wide as you felt your heart almost stop beating. ‘Shit. Oh god. Oh Dear God, no. You can’t do this to me,’ you thought with a nervous bite of your lip.

You attempted to shrug it off casually, keeping an emotionless expression as you continued writing on your notebook. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you responded, feeling your heartbeat nervously against your chest. Chenle’s smirk widened at the way you gulped nervously and avoided eye contact when he brought it up.

“You sure? I’m pretty sure I saw you kicking and stomping puddles the other day, cursing and what-not,” Chenle taunted, watching as your hand weakened their grip on your pen. You cleared your throat, “again, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You sure you weren’t the girl who screamed ‘Dear God, give me a damn boyfriend already?!’ in the middle of the school garden like some kind of deranged maniac?”

“You saw that?!” you gasped, your head shooting up to glare at him with wide eyes. You then cupped your mouth when you realised you accidentally gave yourself away. Chenle let out a laugh, pointing a finger at your reaction. “Called it! So you were the girl doing a satanic ritual the other day!” he exclaimed, an amused smile playing at his lips.

You frowned, rolling your eyes as you looked back down at your paper. “Shut up, Zhong Chenle,” you grumbled with a small pout on your lips. “Come on, Y/n. What the hell happened to make you go all bat-shit crazy like that? I mean, not gonna lie it was quite amusing, you should definitely do it again,” he chuckled, leaning his chin against his hand, his elbow propped up on his desk.

You gave an exasperated sigh, looking up at him with a tired expression. “God I wished I took a video of it. Sadly, my phone ran out of battery at that time,” he added with an innocent smile. “You done? I get it, I publicly embarrassed myself. Is there anything you would like to add to that?” Your lips twitched in annoyance when Chenle took a moment to actually think of an answer.

“Give me a minute,” he hummed.

“That was a rhetorical question,” you frowned.

“I publicly embarrass myself on a daily basis, Chenle. What do you want from me?” you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at the boy. “Threatening to spread the information isn’t going to embarrass me that much. I’ve done worse things,” you added, finishing the last few words of your notes.

“No shit, you walked into the boys bathroom to hide from some guy.” Chenle exclaimed with a laugh. “Survival is a reasonable explanation. I still wanted to live, you know! I’ll have you know I only got two weeks of detention for it,” you closed your notebook with a huff, getting up from your seat.

“And was your little tantrum under the rain another part of your survival instincts?” Chenle provoked, causing you to clench your teeth. “I don’t think doing a religious sacrifice on a rainy school day can be called survival, Y/n. Especially whining about how single you are,” he snorted against his palm.

You flushed in embarrassment, turning your body away as you grabbed the notes you borrowed from your classmate. “Shut up. I should’ve performed a demonic ritual to wipe you off of the face of the earth instead,” you spat back, walking away from your shared desk to head on over to your classmate’s.

“It still won’t get you a boyfriend, though.” Was the last words Chenle said to you before you walked away.

It was safe to say you had to apologize to your friend for crumpling their notes.

“I still can’t believe screaming like a lunatic under the rain actually works,” you shuddered, sipping your hot cocoa with a traumatized expression. It’s been almost a year since then. You graduated high school, now you’re in your first year of college.

It was honestly a surprising journey but a couple months after your little tantrum, you manage to find yourself an actual boyfriend, who you now share a flat with. It’s all just ironic really, you screaming under the rain like a deranged psycho was supposed to be something to laugh at in the near future.

But now, the story became even more laughable when the world decided to drop your boyfriend right in front of you not too soon afterwards. Even though you didn’t get along very well at first, it was still pretty worth it, if you say so.

“You still can’t believe what, babe?” you heard your boyfriend call out from the kitchen, the sound of his spoon stirring inside one of your ceramic mugs hitting the air. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you scrolled through your old picture file on your laptop. Pictures you and your friends took before you all graduated high school to capture your last moments with each other.

“Remember the day I screamed and cursed at the sky because I was tired of being single?” you laughed, remembering the moment as if it happened only yesterday. There was a small pause before a loud dolphin-like laugh pierced your ears. “Oh my god, that was so iconic!” he exclaimed, tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug.

“Right? God it was so embarrassing! I finally stopped when I realised the principal was going home. Damn, thank god I didn’t get detention,” you joked, opening a picture of you and your boyfriend laughing and smiling under the heavy rain. “I’m still pissed off that I didn’t record it, it could’ve pinpoint the day I decided to talk to you,” Chenle chuckled, coming out of the kitchen with a mug of his own.

“Shut up, I know for a fact you’re never going to let it go if you actually did record it,” you stuck your tongue out teasingly, scooting over to the edge of the couch to make room for him to sit. “Indeed, it could’ve gone viral, you know. I could post it on Tik Tok or Youtube with the caption ‘Girl Screams At How Single She Is Not Knowing That Her Future Boyfriend Is Standing Right Behind Her, Recording Her For Epic Black Mail!’” Chenle grinned, emphasizing his words with his hand.

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up, I hate you,” you huffed, pushing the laptop closer to the two of you so he could see. “What are you looking at by the way?” he asked, leaning over to see your screen clearly as he sipped his beverage. “Old photos from high school, you were way more annoying then,” you commented, giggling.

“I’m not annoying now?” he raised his brow at you, making you grin. “You still are, don’t worry. Just slightly less than back when we started dating,” you pinched his cheek gingerly causing him to chuckle. “That means I’m not doing my job as a good boyfriend,” he pouted, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Chenle, no.” You shook your head at him.

“Chenle, yes.” He nodded with a cheeky grin.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you deadpanned, turning away from him to continue scrolling. “Sure you would,” he said sarcastically, wrapping an arm around you lovingly. “You love me too much to even think about breaking up,” he said, grabbing your cheeks in both of his palms, turning your head to make you look at him. He pressed your cheeks together, making your lips pucker up for him to press a loving kiss against them.

“Remind me why I like you so much?” you mumbled against his lips before he pulled away. He hummed, thinking it over for a moment. “I’m just too damn amazing. Plus, a clown like yourself deserves someone to over-clown you,” he giggled. “I prefer the term ‘rival’ because over-clowning isn’t a thing but go off, I guess.” you let out a soft laugh, nuzzling your nose against his.

“Maybe you should do what I did and start screaming at the rain to make us rich,” you suggested.

“Y/n, no. You’re not funny.”

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