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1800-omi · 3 years

Text

scared.

characters: sakusa x reader

warnings/genre: liberal use of italics, female reader, swearing, angst, fluff

notes: i tried to proof read as much as possible i swear

Saying Sakusa Kiyoomi was good-looking was an understatement. Everything — from his soft skin to the way his perfect black curls fell on his forehead to his deep brown eyes — looked amazing on him. From that description alone one might say Kiyoomi is feminine, but his well built body and strong jaw say otherwise. He was pretty. Perfect balance between masculine and feminine. With that said, you couldn’t understand how Sakusa Kiyoomi had eyes for you when everyone else had eyes for him.

In fact, Kiyoomi not only had the looks, but he had the smarts too. He had perfect grades, had won so many awards, so many certificates. He had been at the top of his class ever since primary school. You weren’t sure whether there was something he has not achieved. He is the golden boy every family wanted, so when your family found out you were dating him you could say they were more than pleased.

Having known him for more than 3 years and having dated him for 2 years, you knew that being Sakusa Kiyoomi’s partner wasn’t easy. To others, you weren’t Y/N, you were Sakusa’s girlfriend. The perfect girlfriend for the perfect boy, always by his side, always supporting him. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but at times you thought whether you’d ever be more than just someone’s girlfriend. Not to mention, were you just an accessory to him too? When with him, you had this terrible desire to be loved, and still there was a horrible fear of being left behind.

Once again, you decide to put all these thoughts and insecurities aside. Letting out a soft sigh, you open the door of the café you were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend. The edge of the door shakes a little bell, causing it to ring, alerting the people in the café that someone has entered. You look around the place, eyes searching for your boyfriend.

The café was decorated beautifully, with big lilac plants planted in vases placed at the corners of the room. Each table had a little vase with a small flower on it, you never were sure whether all of them were real or not. The metal chairs were each coloured differently and looked quite vintage, each of them had a cushion placed on top of it, to make it more comfortable. The pastry and desserts the café offered also smelled wonderful. This place calmed your nerves the moment you stepped in which is why it was your favourite place to spend time in.

Looking around the café, you see Kiyoomi sitting at your usual place, at the corner. You make your way to the table he’s sitting at and sit in front of him.

“Hello, love,” he says the moment you take a seat, “how was your day?”

You take your bag off and put it on the empty chair beside you. “My day was good. I'm quite tired, though.”

“Not getting proper sleep again?” he raised an eyebrow, “you do know that's not healthy, right?”

Another thing Sakusa Kiyoomi likes to do is make sure you’re living as much of a healthy and perfect life as he is. You knew he did this out of love but sometimes you couldn't help but feel as if you couldn't keep up with him and his perfect lifestyle.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, I did get sleep, I just didn't get my daily coffee today.” That was a lie. You were up all night studying for your exams. The exams you have not studied nearly enough for because of the responsibilities that came with being the cheerleader’s captain.

“That’s good then.” A waitress walked to the table you were sitting in, placing two coffees and two slices of cake on it, one for each of you. “I ordered for us, I hope you don't mind.” He says and he removes his mask getting ready to sip his coffee.

“Thank you, you always know what I like.” you smile at him before looking down at your slice of cake, grabbing a fork and begging to eat it.

You see Kiyoomi grab his phone and swipe a few times all before opening his mouth and saying. “The exam results are out.”

With that, you feel your stomach turn and you get hit by a sudden wave of anxiety. You are not sure whether or not you want to check your results right now. You know you did not do well, but you can't just stand there staring at your cake either. You slowly pick up your phone, hands slightly shaking. Kiyoomi doesn't notice this, actually, he does not know this side of you at all.

He sees you swipe a couple of times, all before freezing and gulping. You’re praying he doesn't ask about your grade, so you try to ask him questions instead. “So, what did you get?” you put your phone down and put both your hands on your lap, playing with your fingers under the table.

“Maximum points, as usual,” he answers, making your stomach feel even sicker.

“That’s amazing! Congratulation—”

“What about you?” he interrupts you, his dark brown eyes staring into yours.

“I did, um, I did alright!” you stutter, forcing a smile at him. You were proud of your grade, but you knew he would not feel the same. It wasn't even his opinion on his grade that mattered to you, it was the fact he did better than you. You used all the free time you had for studying, you truly gave it your all, and yet here you are, second, again.

“Let me check.” before you could protest, he grabs your phone.

“No, Kiyoomi, ” by the time the words left your mouth he’s already swiped a couple times.

He opens his mouth and lets out a soft sigh, a soft sigh that almost went unnoticed by you. “You know, I’m gonna need to tutor you more often.”

Here he goes, once again, making your heart ache. Making you feel so small, so useless, so ashamed. He does not know that you were expecting way worse. He does not know that if you didn't have him, you would be way happier with your results. To him, your efforts are small, so, so small. This feeling has been going on for years now, you can’t remember whether there was ever a time where you didn't feel like the second-best beside him. He made you feel so pathetic, it made you angry and unbearably sad.

“Actually, no, I don't think I need your tutoring. I did quite well.”

“I know you did, but you could’ve done better.”

“Oh? Well, I didn’t and I’m proud of my results.” You raised your voice slightly. Your tone made it seem like you were trying to prove something wrong even though there was nothing to prove him wrong.

He could sense you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why, which made him angry too. “What’s with the attitude? It’s not my fault you didn’t study. You literally had weeks to do it.”

That did it. You were at the edge of breaking. “You know what? You’re right, it’s not your fault. I was the one wasting time coming to all your games and getting your cheerleading squad ready. I was the one wasting time supporting you and your dumb fucking team.” At the end of the sentence, your voice broke and your vision was getting blurry by your tears. By now, everyone else in the café was staring at the argument go down. “Next time, I won’t even fucking bother.” You grabbed your bag and rushed out the door, trying to sob as quietly as possible.

His eyes had widened at your response. He put his head on his hands and whispered, “Fuck, I messed up.”

It had been two weeks since you last talked to Kiyoomi and there was not a day that passed in which you had not thought of your fight with him. Whenever you thought about what went down you felt sick. Yet here you are, sitting on your desk, homework waiting to be finished in front of you while you think about it again. All Kiyoomi was trying to do was help you, how could you be so selfish? How could you let your jealousy take over? Your failures are not his fault. You should’ve just studied, but you’re so fucking useless you can't even do that properly. Regret and anxiety had consumed you. Seeing him in the hallways of the school didn't help. You weren't sure what was going on with your relationship anymore, is he breaking up with you? Once again you were dragged away from these thoughts by the sound of knocking on your bedroom door. You shake your head, trying to make yourself sound as normal as possible before talking, “Come in!” you say, looking back at the homework in front of you.

“Hey, ” You’re shocked to hear a voice that didn't belong to any of your family members. You turn around to see Kiyoomi. “Your mom told me to come up, sorry if I'm interrupting.”

“No, it's alright.” you stay quiet, not sure whether you're gonna continue this conversation normally or not. Should you apologise? Should he be the one to apologise?

“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi speaks up and continues before you can reply. “Can I sit down?” You nod and get up from your desk as he sits down on your bed. You sit down next to him and speak.

“ 'm sorry as well.”

“No, you don't have anything to apologise for. I shouldn't have said what I said.”

“No, you don't understand, it's my fault. I, ” you start tearing up, “I was so selfish and I was jealous and, and–”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Of everything! I mean, you’re so perfect and you achieve everything you want to and I’m just so terrified of being left behind. I'm so terrified of always being second.”

“Love,” he pulled you into his arms, making you start sobbing.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better girlfriend, I’m so sorry.” You manage to get out through the sobs. “It’s just that these thoughts have been hurting me so, so much. I don’t think I can take it.”

He kept hugging you as he answered. “Love, I couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. You’re always so supportive and I know you always try your best.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, “I’m sorry for making you feel this way. Please know that to me, you’ll always be the first. I love you.” You hadn't expected Kiyoomi to say anything, he had always been the type to just let his presence comfort you. The fact he’s trying to reach out to you with his words made you realise how much you meant to him.

“I love you too.” you wipe your tears. “Thank you, Omi.”

Instead of replying, he kisses you. You missed his soft lips on yours, you missed the feeling of having him so close to you. You missed feeling so loved, feeling so important to someone and at the same time having someone who’s just as important to you. You missed him.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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the7thcrow · 3 years

Text

indulgence | part two

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 5.8 k

genre: forbidden love. angst, extreme fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (sex is discussed but not described), strong language, alcohol and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! thank you to anyone who read part one, and liked it enough to continue with part two hehe. the plot really picks up here, and i’m quite excited about it. once again, i love hearing feedback, so don’t be shy in leaving me an ask or message :)

previous chapter.

...

You were careful. In the beginning, at least. For the first few weeks of carrying your secret, you only met Felix after hours, and only at your home. You’d leave at different times, and you both never spoke a word of what you were doing to anyone.

It was a safe play. A smart one. But as time went on you became sloppy. It started on the day Felix’s roommates would be gone for the entire weekend.

You were both lying in your bed, the rainy Sunday morning having trickled by in a lazy, melancholic fashion. These were your favourite days, the ones in which he’d arrive just before dawn and leave near dusk.

You’d gotten used to his presence around your apartment, his absence painfully noticeable during the days you found yourself cooped up there alone. You liked when he was there, even when you weren’t talking, lounging on the couch in silence with your feet intertwined as you caught up on your required reading. Or when sometimes he’d cook for you, baking you sweets as you were stressed out over a paper that’s due date was much closer than you’d realized. Him simply being around granted you comfort, a sense of companionship, something you hadn’t felt for a long time.

You couldn’t deny that Felix Lee had nestled himself into your life, and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t enjoying it. Being with him made you love the creature you were, seeing the way your feeding affected him, the way it set the two of you on fire. Forgetting for a moment how restrictive your life truly was, how exhausting and lonely it often happened to be.

Looking back, perhaps that was the entire problem itself. That wasn’t something you should so easily forget, no matter how tempting it may be.

“Come on,” Felix whined, tracing shapes along the bare of your back with his finger. “They won’t be there all weekend, it won’t be any different then when we’re here.”

He was trying to convince you to come spend the following weekend at his apartment, as his roommates were leaving on a ski trip and wouldn’t be back until Monday morning.

“Well, if it won’t be any different then why should we bother risking it?” You returned. In truth, you really did want to go spend time at his place. It felt like the next step in your relationship, however strange and complicated it may be. You weren’t sure if “relationship” was even the right term for whatever you two were, but you didn’t want to overthink things too much. For now, all you wanted was to enjoy this while it lasted, as deep down you knew it couldn’t be forever.

“Because,” he mumbled, rolling you over to face him. This wasn’t going to help your willpower, you’d come to find you just couldn’t say no to those dark, curious eyes. “I feel like I’ve really gotten to know you these last few weeks. I mean, I’ve seen your life. Your room, your book and record collections, what you keep stocked in your refrigerator. I guess I just want to share my space with you too.”

You groaned, shifting downwards to bury your face in his chest. “Well that’s not fair. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“Exactly, you can’t,” he laughed.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know. Sorry.”

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll head over Friday night then.”

“See, I knew you’d come around,” he smiled, his voice light with enthusiasm. However, you couldn’t ignore the weight of anxiousness bubbling in your chest. You looked up at Felix, and you knew that he could see it written on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, methodically running his fingers through your hair, something he’d learned would help calm you down whenever you were stressed. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

~~~~

Felix did, in fact, make it worth your time. When you arrived at his doorstep the following weekend, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. Carefully, you twisted the knob, peeking inside.

It was safe to say you were surprised.

The apartment was entirely candlelit, the smell of rose scented candles mixing with that of whatever Felix was presently cooking in the kitchen. The table was done up in a way that reminded you of a cheesy Italian restaurant, with a checkered red tablecloth, two glasses for wine, and a rose stationed in the middle.

Felix emerged from the kitchen, a wide, toothy grin on his face. He was wearing an apron, patterned with an alarming amount of cartoon kittens, over what appeared to be a rather expensive suit.

“I feel like I’m underdressed,” you stated, unable to mask the pure awe in your voice. Nobody, not even Chan, had done anything like this for you. Not to mention the fact that you and Felix weren’t even dating…

Were you? This seemed like an awful lot of effort to put in for someone you were only hooking up with.

“Nah, you look great. Don’t worry about it,” Felix said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take your jacket Mademoiselle.”

You laughed, taking off your overcoat and handing it to him. “That’s French. I thought you were going for Italian,” you joked, attempting to hide the warmth flooding to your cheeks.

“Shhh,” he said, setting your jacket down on the couch before putting his hands on your shoulders. “Just let me have this one. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You felt oddly shy, surrounded by such a scene.

“Well if you’ll take a seat, I can show you what I’ve been making in the kitchen,” he said, moving towards the table and pulling out the chair. You complied, sitting down and shifting your focus to the wonderful smell wafting in from the kitchen.

Felix disappeared before appearing with two plates, setting one down in front of you. “Shrimp Scampi,” he clarified. You glanced up at him and you could tell he was slightly nervous. Knowing Felix, he was probably worried you wouldn’t like it.

How someone could possibly not appreciate all of this, was entirely beyond you.

You decided to reassure him. “It looks amazing, Felix. All of this,” you said, gesturing to the room around you. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this, it's so… unbelievably sweet.”

“Well,” he said shyly, removing the apron and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “I knew you were worried about coming over here. So, I guess I just wanted to make it the best I could. Less terrifying and more something you’d really enjoy. You know?”

If your cheeks weren’t red before, they certainly were now. It took everything in you not to lean over the table and kiss him right then and there.

He grabbed a bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet behind him, pouring the liquid into your glass. “White wine?” You questioned with a smirk. “I thought you would have gone with red.”

He chuckled, beginning to fill his own. “I thought about it, but it felt a little too cliche. Besides,” he said, corking the bottle and setting it back down on the table. “White goes better with seafood.”

You picked up your glass, taking a small sip. “Pinot grigio?”

He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “A bit of a wine connoisseur, are we?”

You laughed. “Something like that.”

Truth be told, you weren’t. Frankly, you’d always much preferred scotch. However, Chan was big on wine. From the two years you’d spent together, you’d managed to pick up a thing or two.

The rest of the dinner passed smoothly. The food was delicious, the wine smooth, the conversation breezy. You’d calmed down from the initial shock of it all, and had settled back into the comfortable atmosphere you and Felix had developed over the past few weeks.

After you’d both finished your meals, he rose to his feet, setting your plates down on the kitchen counter before disappearing around the corner, into the living room. You were wondering if you should follow him, when suddenly classical music started to fill your ears.

You rose to your feet, peering around the corner to see Felix stationed beside a record player. He smiled, before extending a hand out towards you. “Come on, dance with me.”

“You sure are cheesy today, huh?” You laughed, taking his hand anyway. You laid your head against his chest, the two of you swaying gently, a sorry attempt at a Waltz.

The music from the record filled the room, the notes dancing along with the two of you, a symphony of affection. You quickly recognized the piece as The Four Seasons.

“Vivaldi is my favourite composer,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I know, you told me a while ago,” he spoke quietly.

“Ah,” you said, smiling to yourself over the fact he remembered. “I’m surprised you have a record of him, I know you aren’t the classical type.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he laughed. “It’s actually one of my roommates.”

“I see. What are they like?” Even with all the time you’d spent together, you and Felix had never talked about the people in your personal lives.

“Hmm,” Felix hummed. Although he didn’t say anything, you could tell he was happy that you asked. That you were slowly breaking the barrier you’d put around yourself.

“Well, Han- that’s whose record this is- he’s... well he’s loud, but I think you’d really like him. He’s studying music theory, wants to be something of a composer himself. He’s a bit messy, but if you harp on him enough he’ll keep his shit clean.”

“He sounds nice,” you offered kindly. “What about your other one?”

“Ah, yeah. Changbin. His name is Changbin,” Felix said, but you could tell there was something off about his tone.

“What about him?”

“He’s… he’s going through a lot right now. But normally he’s the coolest. He’s also in music theory, so he and Han help eachother out a lot. He’s the type to bring you food when you’ve been working on a paper all day, because he knows you’ve forgotten to eat. Always there for you, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” you said. Talking about Changbin seemed to make Felix nervous, based on the way he wouldn’t meet your eye and the apprehension in his voice. You could bet it had to do with whatever Changbin was going through at the moment, but despite your curiousness you decided to drop it. It wasn’t any of your business.

The two of you swayed in silence for a few moments. There was nothing left to say on the matter.

“You know,” you said suddenly. “You said you wanted to show me your space, but I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

Felix smirked. “Ah, I guess you haven’t. Why, you impatient for something?”

You laughed, looking up at him. “Get your head out of the gutter, Lix. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Yeah, sure you don’t,” he returned, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway to your left. He stopped, turning to open a door that was currently covered in a rather elaborate arrangement of animal stickers. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh right, the stickers,” Felix said, smacking his forehead with his palm. “Han thought it would be funny, but now I can’t get them off.”

You smiled. Felix was right, you and Han would probably get along.

The inside of Felix's room was oddly exactly how you had imagined it. Books were stacked neatly on the desk in the corner, ranging from academic texts to various manga. Posters hung on the walls, representing different music artists, some you recognized and others you did not. He had a nintendo switch tossed on his night stand, and plants hanging in the window. The room, while packed, was clean and well in order. An organized sort of chaos.

You laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You felt the mattress sink slightly as he laid beside you.

“Do you like it?” He whispered.

“I do. It’s very you.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, rolling onto his side to face you. His fingers wandered in the air for a moment, before finding themselves placed against your cheek. Gently he stroked his thumb back and forth along your jawbone.

You smiled, leaning into his touch, placing your own hand in his hair. “I feel like dessert,” you stated.

Felix’s cheeks warmed. “I made brownies,” he mumbled, his gaze deepening. “But something tells me that’s not what you have in mind.”

~~~

It was not what you had in mind, and you’d gone far beyond merely explaining that to Felix. The two of you were tangled together beneath his sheets, his head resting on your chest. The room was dark, preventing you from seeing the details of his face, only the shadows and the curve of his jaw visible in the moonlight.

“Felix?” You whispered, wondering if he was awake.

“Mmm?” He mumbled, clearly only half-conscious.

“You know I can’t give you more than this, right? We’ll always have to sneak around, keep us a secret. It’ll never be easy.”

“I know.”

“And you’re really okay with that?”

He reached for your hand, allowing your fingers to intertwine. “If it means I have you, I’ll manage.”

A moment of silence passed by, as you were unsure of what to say, but something inside of you stirred. Something deep and warm, coming back to life.

“Y/N?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Do I have you?”

“Of course, Lix,” you smiled, finally allowing your eyes to close, putting your mind to rest. “I’m all yours.”

~~~~

The following morning you awoke to the sound of rain pattering against the window, Felix still sleeping soundly against your chest. Carefully, you moved his head to the pillow, sliding out from under him and emerging into the hallway.

The apartment felt eerily quiet. You never found yourself in an unfamiliar place in the mornings, and the urge to evacuate and run back to your apartment was more tempting than you would’ve liked to admit. You wouldn’t, of course. Felix had put in the effort to make you feel comfortable, to feel at home. You would honour that, no matter how slightly terrifying it might be.

You wandered into the kitchen, noticing a container full of brownies set on the counter. You smiled, those were supposed to be eaten yesterday, before, well…

You opened the package taking a bite of the sweet, before spitting it out in shock.

The apartment door swung open wildly, a boy with brown hair and chubby cheeks storming inside, a thick cast around his wrist. He threw his backpack onto the couch, letting the ski’s he was carrying clatter against the wall.

“Felix, you will not believe how bad the hill was. There was hardly even any snow, and the amount of rocks? It was like they wanted me to break my arm! Believe me, you made the right call opting out, it was not worth the drive-”

The boy stopped, his eyes bulging as he finally realized you were in the room. His silence made you quickly realize that you were only sporting one of Felix’s shirts, and while it covered you fine, it told an obvious tale.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hi!” He said, his mind finally catching up on the situation.

Alright, this was it. Clearly you and Felix weren’t a secret anymore, at least not with his roommates. Now you had to decide how you were going to play this out. Your mind was buzzing. You knew this was a bad idea. You knew this was dangerous. You fucked up. It was over for you. You were screwed.

Attempting to settle your racing mind, you decided to make an effort at being friendly for now.

“Hi,” you smiled, moving behind the kitchen table to cover your legs. “I’m assuming you’re Han?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” He laughed.

“Felix mentioned you were a tad… charismatic.”

Han chuckled. “Did he now? I’ll have to pay him back for that. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name-”

Felix burst out of the hallway, his hair a disheveled mess and shirt only half buttoned. “Han! You’re back early!”

He looked at you, and while you wanted to be furious at him, planned to make him regret getting you to come here, the look of guilt in his eyes stopped you before you could even begin. It were as if the words “I’m Sorry” were branded to his forehead, his features solemn with remorse.

“We have to get out of here,” you thought. “We have to talk about this, figure out what the hell to do.”

“Wait, what did you do to your arm?” Felix asked, just noticing the thick cast.

“Ah,” Han said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm. “I wiped out. Like I said, the hill was bad. Not enough snow and too much ice. I slid into a rock and, well… Doctor said I have to keep this on for the next 5 weeks, which blows, obviously,” he motioned to the cast, shrugging his shoulder helplessly.

Before you could get a word in, he continued. “Oh, have you guys eaten yet? Changbin’s just grabbing-”

Felix quickly cut him off. “We were actually just about to go get something to eat.”

Han raised an eyebrow, glancing from Felix, who looked like he just stumbled out of a 2 year coma, to yourself, who was certainly in no position to walk out the door. “You were?”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’m just going to, uh, get changed, and then we’ll be out of your hair,” you said, rushing past them and into Felix’s bedroom.

You shut the door behind you, leaning up against the frame before taking a deep breath. Okay, you could do this. You’d make a quick exit, then you and Felix could sort out what to do next. Maybe he could tell them you were just a hookup. But would that look too suspicious? Did they notice he’d been sneaking out almost every night? If they did that would only cause more problems.

God, this was a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have come, you shouldn’t have come, you shouldn't have come-

“Y/N?” Felix called, knocking on the door. “Are you almost ready?”

“Y-yeah!” You called back, cringing at the waver in your voice. You had to get yourself together. You threw on your jeans from the following day, tucking in Felix’s button up and bounded towards the door.

“Alright, I’m ready,” you said, bouncing back into the living room. However, you were surprised to be greeted by someone new. The boy was standing beside Felix and Han, whispering in a rushed, as well as undeniably angry tone.

More surprising yet, and perhaps unsettling as well, he was glaring at you. No, glaring wasn’t the right word. His eyes screamed bloody murder, his jaw locked, entire body was rigid with a stiffness only produced by vile distaste. It was that look of hatred, that familiar spiteful glaze, which immediately made you recognize him.

“I’ve seen you at the library before,” you stated, taking note of how his eyes widened slightly at the sound of your voice.

The boy cleared his throat. “I don’t think so,” he stated, which was an obvious lie. He’d visited the library several times during the dead of the night, always with that same angry, loathsome stare. You’d always found it unsettling, and always left soon after he arrived, even if you still had work to do.

“Yes, you-” you began, but Felix quickly cut you off.

“Sorry, Changbin. We were just leaving, I’ll catch you guys later.” He said, taking your arm and quickly ushering you out the entry. You saw Han attempt to call out in protest, but Felix quickly shut the door behind him, blocking whatever it was he had to say.

You turned to Felix. “What the hell was that?”

“What, I figured you’d want to get out of there?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye as he walked ahead of you, making his way down the complex stairs.

You scowled, chasing after him. “Not that, why was Changbin - or whatever his name is - staring at me like that?”

“That’s just the way Changbin has been lately,” Felix said, although you couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to it. Pulling your arm away, you pushed passed him. If Felix was going to be so frustrating, there was no way you were going to be the one trailing him like a puppy.

“Well, I know for a fact he’s seen me at the library, so why would he lie about that?” You continued, opening the main doors and storming onto the street.

Felix jogged after you. “I don’t know?” He shot back, his voice sharp. “Maybe he just forgot?”

You scoffed, turning a corner onto the main walking path, heading off campus and towards your own apartment. You needed to sort this out, and the last thing you needed was to cause a scene in the middle of a busy street.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, still keeping yourself a few steps ahead. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to my place.”

“It’s the middle of the day, I thought that was against your precious rules,” he sniped. You knew he was just angry, blowing off steam, but the jab hurt. He was fully aware that you hated the way things were, the way things had to be. It was a low blow, and it only made your annoyance spike.

“Fine, Lix. You don’t have to come, go back home so you don’t have to be a burden to my ‘precious rules.’”

“Shit, no. Wait, Y/N!” He babbled, running to put himself in front of you. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn’t mean that. Please, let’s figure this out. I want to, seriously.”

You stared at him for a moment, before walking past him, a sigh trailing from your lips. “Fine, come on.”

He let out a relieved breath before catching up, placing himself at your side.

“We need to determine what the hell we’re going to tell your roommates,” you start. “Because as of now, we’ve gotten ourselves into a load of shit-”

You didn’t see the man in front of you as you collided into his chest, falling to the ground, rubbing your nose from the immediate shock of pain.

“Woah, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there,” the voice said, and your entire body froze. You knew that voice. You knew that voice well. It was a voice you hadn’t heard in months, the voice of the worst possible person you could stumble into at the moment.

“Hold on, Y/N?” Chan asked. You looked up to meet his gaze, petrified by the familiar look of pain in his eyes. The same hurt from the last time you saw him, or in better terms, left him.

“Hey, Chan,” you replied, your voice coming out more shaky than you wanted it to. Chan extended a hand, lifting you to your feet. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. “It sure has.”

Then, to your complete and utter despair, his gaze shifted to Felix. It was alarming, how quickly his gaze hardened, the way any sense of past affection drifted from his eyes. “Who’s this?” He asked, his voice cold.

“That’s Felix. He’s uh, from class, we got assigned for a partner project. We have to explain how without divine intervention, the events in The Iliad may have transpired differently,” you said. If you were going to lie, you had to at least try to make it sound believable.

“Ah, I see,” Chan said, an edge to his voice. “Where are you guys heading?”

“Just a cafe,” you replied, keeping your voice level.

“Off campus?” He asked, his eyes narrowing, you felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Yeah,” Felix answered without missing a beat. “Figured it would be less busy, you know?”

“Hm,” Chan said, before giving the boy a smile. To Felix, it probably seemed nice, but you knew Chan. Which meant you also knew there wasn’t an ounce of genuine kindness in that expression.

“Alright, well I’ll let you guys get to it then,” he shook Felix’s hand, his grip slightly too firm. “It was nice meeting you.”

He took a step to make his exit, and for a moment you thought you’d gotten away with it. You thought that somehow, you’d manage to evade this inevitable disaster. Foolish.

Chan stopped beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder. Turning to Felix, he smiled, his eyes glinting. “And hey, you might want to fix your collar.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on his face as he adjusted the collar of his button-up. That’s when you noticed it. The bite marks just peeked out, visibly fresh from the following night.

Chan leaned in, his breath warm against your neck, lips brushing your ear. Your body froze, heart stopping at his words.

“You’ve got his scent all over you.”

~~~~

You and Felix spent the next few hours deciding your best course of action. In a matter of a day, your entire arrangement had been flipped on its head.

The first issue revolved around Felix’s roommates, the biggest worry being what exactly he was going to tell them. After much thought, as well as a bit of arguing, you decided to have Felix say that the two of you were casually seeing each other. This way, they shouldn’t get suspicious that there was more going on, but they also wouldn’t expect to necessarily see you around their apartment either.

There was still risk in it - of course, there always was - as there was the remaining fear that one of them might mention the two of you to the wrong person, and you’d be doomed. As much as having this as a risk pained you, there wasn’t much you could do about it, at least for the moment. For now, you had to trust that if Felix told them to keep it a secret, they would.

This was difficult, as you truthfully didn’t have faith in either of them. Han seemed nice, of course. But it was clear he liked to talk, and it wouldn’t be shocking if something managed to slip from his lips.

Changbin... Well, he seemed to hate you, for whatever reason that might be. You tried to talk to Felix about this, but he simply brushed it off, blaming it on whatever Changbin happened to be going through at the moment. Begrudgingly, you decided to drop it, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t store the worry in the back of your mind. Keep a watchful eye out.

The bigger problem was Chan. He knew. He knew everything. The feeding, the fucking. That Felix was something more than just an acquaintance. He could single-handedly unravel your relationship, all it would take was a quick chat with The Council, and you would be ruined. There would be nothing you could do to stop them. You didn’t know what The Council would do to you, but you knew at the very least they would force you to end your arrangement with Felix.

You wanted to believe that Chan wouldn’t do that. You really did, but you knew that might not be the case. If he saw telling The Council as a way of protecting you, to keep you away from humans that could be out to hurt you, or use you, there was no doubt in your mind that that’s exactly what he would do.

For now, all you could do was wait, and keep as low of a profile as you possibly could at the moment. It was for this purpose that you said the following words:

“I think we need to distance ourselves from each other, for at least a little while,” you said to Felix. He currently was sitting on your couch, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands.

Slowly, he glanced up at you. He looked tired. “Do we have to?” He asked, his voice flooded with defeat. The last few hours hadn't been easy. There were sacrifices to make, ones that neither of you wanted to adhere to. But this was not as simple as what you did and didn’t want.

“Yeah,” you sighed, dropping down on the couch beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We have to. I think we could have dealt with your roommates, but Chan is a far bigger issue.”

Felix frowned, and you knew exactly how he felt.

This sucked.

Over the past month, you’d really come to like Felix. You genuinely enjoyed his company, his cooking, his sense of humour. The way he brightened up a room. Most of all, he made you feel less alone. Together you were a part of something. A relationship of sorts. You mattered. And while you would do what you could to make sure this farewell wasn’t forever, in the end it was still a goodbye.

And goodbye’s were always hard, no matter what lay behind them.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking your hand in his, gently brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “When should I expect to hear from you again?”

“I’ll give you a call by the end of the week. I might try talking to Chan, just to see where he’s at with all this. Try to make him understand before he decides to throw me under the bus.”

Felix hums in response, before twisting his neck so that his chin rests on top of your head. “I’m going to miss you,” he states simply.

You smile sadly, planting a soft kiss at the nape of his neck. “I’ll miss you too,” you say, “but this will only be temporary. I’ll make sure of it.”

~~~~

You didn’t get the chance to talk to Chan, as not even a full day after Felix left your apartment, a letter slid under your door. Carefully, you arose from your spot on your couch, setting your laptop down on the coffee table. You approached the envelope slowly, as if you were to move too fast, it might combust.

You picked up the letter, turning it over to reveal the seal. Your heart sunk in your chest.

There it was. The red wax seal. The letter was from The Society.

Fuck.

You frantically ripped off the seal, releasing the note inside with shaky hands.

Dear Ms. L/N,

We have recently been informed that you have been participating in actions that violate the terms of our Society agreement. This information has been provided to us by a source of whom wishes to remain anonymous for the time being.

However, these claims remain a serious issue. We would like to give you the chance to explain yourself, as well as clear up what may be a possible misunderstanding or simply a false accusation. If these actions happen to be true, then we will deal with matters accordingly.

You are called to attend this meeting at 1:00pm tomorrow, at the councilroom of our head district.

We appreciate your compliance.

Our regards,

The Council.

~~~~

It’s almost funny, looking back on how hopeful you’d been. That despite everything working against you, you’d somehow thought you could best them. Somehow thought that you were more powerful than the unbeatable. More powerful than The Council.

That’s where you found yourself now, seated before the three all-powerful vampires, surrounded by endless more. You thought you’d be more terrified, more horrified of what they might choose to do to you.

But you aren’t. You’re tired of this. Tired of it all. So let them do whatever they wanted, you would take it. You didn’t regret any of what you did.

Not a damn thing.

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilmen repeats, voice dead of emotion. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

Of course you do. He knows damn well that you know exactly why you’re here, you can see it in the smirk playing at the corner of his lips.The question is mockery.

So you say nothing.

“Cooperation will make this much easier, Ms. L/N,” another member of The Council speaks from beside him. She looks far younger than he is, although they are probably around the same age. Which is to say, hundreds of years old.

As your silence continues, the head councilman sighs, rubbing the space between his eyes in frustration. “Fine. Let me explain, shall I? We have reason to suspect you’ve been… coercing with a human boy. Felix Lee.”

Your heart jumps slightly. They know his name? You weren’t expecting that, but then again this was The Council. Digging up identities was the least they were capable of.

“Is this true, Ms. L/N?”

You stare at the councilman. There’s no point in lying. He knows. This meeting was not to defend your innocence, but to determine your punishment. You can see it in his eyes. Those hollow, sunken eyes, that seem farther from humanity than you could’ve dreamed possible.

“Yes,” you state. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room, landing on Chan, who’s gaze remains firm. You want to slap him. Or yell at him. Maybe both.

“Hm, well at least you’re honest,” the councilman murmurs, a light buzz of laughter vibrating throughout the room. This is funny to them, a joke. Irritation itches under your skin, you don’t quite see the humour here.

“Well,” the councilmen starts, a glint in his eye. “In order to reward your honesty, I suppose we won’t punish you.”

You blink. “What?” You say, your voice coming out a croak. You glance at Chan again, who looks equally confused. His eyes are wide, chest heaving as his breathing rate increases. No, he’s not confused, he’s alarmed.

Something is wrong. You glance back at the councilman, and there it is again, that glint of something awful in his eyes. Something evil.

“You heard me correctly, Ms. L/N. We will not punish you,” the last word drips from his tongue, and you come to understand the weight of his words.

“Fuck. No. No, no, no,” you can hardly hear yourself think over the ringing in your ears, your thoughts a jumbled mess of panic and pure terror.

The councilmen clears his throat, a grin spreading across his lips, fangs almost shining in the dim light of the councilroom.

“No, Felix Lee will be the one to pay this price. Kill him, and the damage you’ve caused will be forgiven.”

next chapter.

#skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #felix x reader #skz felix #stray kids felix #stray kids felix x reader #skz felix x reader #vampire skz #vampire stray kids #vampire felix #skz x vampire reader #stray kids x vampire reader #stray kids #skz #felix fan fic #felix fan fiction

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heyitssmiller · 4 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Three

The first mission doesn’t exactly go as planned. Also, Logan has a thing for glasses, apparently.

@lumosinlove Thank you for letting me run away with your characters! <3

Again, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero and the best proofreader ever! This fic wouldn’t be what it is without her.

Clandestine Masterlist

The bank was quiet, save for the soft murmurings of tellers and customers. Sunlight filtered through the windows of the storefront, light and hazy. The office plant by the front door was growing way too big for its pot. There were a few people waiting in line, absently scrolling through their phones. Others were sitting in the waiting area, mindlessly taking in their surroundings. It was calm, peaceful.

Or it was, until a redhead came sprinting out of the men’s restroom, screaming “Fire!” at the top of his lungs.

The bank then descended into madness.

A man watched from the driver’s seat of his car as people frantically streamed out of the building and onto the sidewalk. He sighed, taking a second to rest his forehead against the steering wheel. “Damnit, O’Hara. This wasn’t part of the plan.”

29 Hours Earlier

“Good morning, cubs!”

“Fuck you, Black.” Logan muttered into his cup of coffee. “It’s too early to be that excited.”

Leo smiled a little and set a paper bag on the table. Logan stared at it. Where had it come from? He hadn’t seen Leo carrying it into the briefing room, but it was too big to stuff into his pockets. He didn’t have a bag or anything – the only thing he was carrying with him was a notebook and a pen. How did he manage to smuggle it in?

Logan was so confused, and it was still too early.

“I brought muffins.” Leo explained, opening the bag and handing one to Finn. “They’re cinnamon swirl.”

“Nut, did you make these?” Finn asked, removing the wrapper and taking a big bite. Leo shrugged.

“I like to cook.”

Black looked up at him in awe. “These are amazing.” He cradled the muffin in his hand like it was something precious.

“I can give you the recipe, if you want.”

Logan grabbed a muffin, looking up quickly at Remus’ snort. “He can’t cook.”

“Neither can you.” Sirius shot back, a little more hostile than his usual teasing manner. Logan glanced back and forth between the pair, tearing off a piece of muffin and popping it into his mouth. Fuck, that was good.

His partners had clearly picked up on the tension, too, but neither of them brought it up. Leo twirled his pen around in his hand, eyes moving from the pair to Finn. He smiled as the redhead enthusiastically grabbed another muffin. Logan snapped his gaze back to Sirius. “Can we get started, please?” He asked pointedly. “If you make me get up this early, we’d better be doing something productive.”

Finn laughed at him, nose scrunching. “Are you always this grumpy in the morning?”

Green eyes rimmed with dark, dark lashes glared back at him. Logan didn’t say a word but took a long sip of coffee instead, refusing to break eye contact. Finn let himself stare a little longer than he probably should have. He wasn’t lying when he told Logan he was a sucker for green eyes.

Sirius finally broke the tension-filled staring competition between himself and Loops and looked down at his files. Remus started the projector without a word, only speaking up when he was ready to begin his presentation. “We’re starting you three off with the easiest flash drives to retrieve – the two in the banks.”

He moved to a picture of the layout of one of the banks, pointing at a small room tucked away in a corner of the building. “So the safe is back here in this room. You can’t get back there without permission or an escort, which makes it a little trickier. The security system is also very high-grade, so I don’t think trying to break in after hours is our best bet here. There’s too many little things we might miss.

“The plan is to go undercover. Leo and Finn, you’ll be infiltrating this bank. Logan, you’ll be lookout. Leo, you’re going to pretend to be a safe specialist. Tell them the make and model of the safe Riddle uses is faulty and the company sent you to see if this one needs to be replaced. I don’t really care what you say, just make it believable.”

“What kind of safe is it?” Leo asked.

Sirius looked down at his notes. “It’s a… Tigerking Digital Security safe. Does that mean anything to you?”

Leo grinned. “Makes my job a hell of a lot easier. They’ve got a weak spot.”

“What am I doing during all of this?” Finn asked through a mouthful of muffin, crumbs stuck to his mouth. He swiped at them with his tongue before speaking again, “Distraction?”

“Yeah. It’ll have to be big – big enough to get Leo alone with that safe. How long do you think it’ll take to crack, Knut?”

He shrugged. “Ten minutes, tops. It’s got this small hole at the back where bolts are fed through. I can get a stiff wire through that hole and hit the reset button. Then I can reset the code of the safe and open it without leaving a trace.”

Finn smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I think I can manage a ten-minute distraction.”

That… that didn’t sound good.

Finn took one look at Logan’s fearful face and laughed. “Relax, it’s nothing too dramatic. I’ll probably just ask for whoever takes Leo back to look at the safe and then throw a fit when they say he’s not available. And then I’ll drag out our conversation to give our dear Nut enough time. Simple.”

“That… actually works.”

Finn scoffed, giving Remus a look. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you’re Finn O’Hara.”

Finn thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “That’s fair.”

“Nut, when you open the safe you need to replace the real flash drive with this decoy.” Sirius said, holding up a blue flash drive. “This op might take weeks or months – if Riddle comes to check on this drive, he needs to see one instead of an empty safe. Now, if he actually checks the information on the flash drives… well, we’re screwed. Hopefully it won’t come to that. He doesn’t usually check the flash drives unless absolutely necessary – it’s too much of a hassle.”

“And I’ll loop the security camera footage when you get there, so there won’t be any evidence of you tampering with the safe.” Remus said. “Get in, get out. Not too hard, right? And we’ll both be with you every step of the way. You’ll have microphones and earpieces so that we can all communicate.”

Finn couldn’t tell if the bouncing of Leo’s leg was his normal restlessness or nerves. His face was a mask of calm that revealed nothing. For someone who didn’t have any previous experience in espionage or conning people, he sure was good at hiding how he was feeling.

Finn handed him another muffin anyways.

The dimpled smile he got in return was nothing but genuine.

***

Remus sat down on his couch with his dinner, sighing to himself as he stretched out his back. It had been a long day, but he finally felt ready for tomorrow. Their plan was solid, the cubs were as ready as they were ever going to be, he had his video loop for the security camera in the safe room, the rest of his tech had been checked over and deemed ready to go. There wasn’t much else he could do besides get a good night’s sleep if he could.

That would be easier said than done, though.

Sirius chose that moment to throw open the door and close it loudly behind him. Remus glared at him. “Is that really necessary?” He asked, but didn’t add anything else on as Sirius slammed down a stack of hand-written pages onto Remus’ coffee table.

“You want me to open up? Fine. There’s all you need to know about me.”

Remus looked down at the pages and instantly felt guilty. How long had he been working on this? “You didn’t have to-”

“You said you couldn’t trust me.” Sirius interrupted coolly. “I can’t get my brother to safety if you guys don’t trust me.”

It appeared that his brother was his sole motivation. For all of this. Remus could understand that. He’d stop at nothing if the safety of his own brother was put into question.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to do this.” Remus looked up at him, at the stiff set to his shoulders, the detached look in his eyes. He went too far the last time they’d talked about this, hadn’t he? “Look, we got along for over a week when you first got here. I think we can do that again, right?”

At Sirius’ skeptical face, he sighed. “This is on me just as much as you. I… I don’t trust easily.” He had to laugh at that massive understatement. “Perks of being a spy. But I feel like we can manage learning to trust each other the old-fashioned way.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“Getting totally, outrageously drunk and sharing all our secrets.”

Sirius’ straight face only lasted for about a second before he busted out laughing. “You go from wanting my entire life story to wanting to get drunk together?”

“It’s a failproof way to gain someone’s trust.” Remus said solemnly, cracking a smile when Sirius laughed again, incredulous. “But not tonight. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“This Friday, then?”

He couldn’t help but notice the hopeful look on Sirius’ face. Had he ever done this with someone before? Did he have any friends besides his brother previously? He put up this excitable, outgoing façade, but Remus honestly had no idea what lay underneath. He nodded decisively. “This Friday.”

Sirius hesitated, then spoke again. “Do you think they’re ready?”

“I think so. And we’ll be there if something goes wrong.” Remus met his eyes, trying to instill confidence into the ex-Snake. “No matter what happens, we’re going to do our best to get your brother out safely.”

“And what if that’s not enough?” Sirius asked, eyes haunted.

That was exactly why Remus hadn’t made any strict promises. There was no way to guarantee that they would get Regulus back. If Remus was in Sirius’ shoes, if this this was Jules instead of Regulus, what would Remus most want to hear?

“We’re going to do everything we can, I promise.” He said, soft but firm. “I know that’s not enough, but it’s the best we can do as of right now.”

Sirius stared back, then nodded. “Thank you.” He looked down at Remus’ food. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

Remus laughed, shoving him away. “Get your own, you leech. This is mine.”

“Leech?” Sirius demanded, dramatizing his offence. “I can’t believe you called me a leech. You were the one who offered to house me, after all.”

That was true. Even if he hated to admit it, Remus was lonely. He lived in this apartment all by himself, worked mostly on his own, and his family lived miles and miles away. And being a spy didn’t exactly make it easy to find friends. He was distrusting and cautious by nature, especially after... well. After he left fieldwork and transitioned to a desk job.

He didn’t know why he’d offered to let Sirius stay, honestly. He just got this gut feeling that it was the right thing to do.

And Remus Lupin always trusted his gut.

“Worst decision I’ve ever made.” He quipped, laughing as Sirius threw a pillow at him. Sirius was a horrible roommate. He left dishes in the sink, beard trimmings on the bathroom counter, and his shoes haphazardly strewn about the living room.

But he always had hot water on the stovetop in the mornings when Remus woke up, always let him pick what they watched on tv at nights, and always replaced anything he had used up without being asked. And, if Remus was being completely honest with himself, soft gray eyes paired with an even softer smile weren’t exactly a terrible thing to wake up to.

So far, this whole roommate business wasn’t too bad.

***

Logan hated nothing more than being lookout.

He watched on as Finn and Leo geared up, testing their mics and earpieces and making adjustments accordingly. He was supposed to be watching the entrance to make sure no Snakes entered the building. They were doing the first bank heist while Logan was stuck here, in the car parked on the street, where he couldn’t see what was going on or if his partners were in trouble.

Their first mission, and he was stuck outside.

Ugh.

“You ready for this?” Finn asked Leo as he discreetly tucked a wire under his collar and out of sight. Leo had his eyes trained on the building across from them, wrapped in his coat and a thick scarf, fingers drumming out a staccato beat on his thigh. He didn’t seem to have heard Finn.

“Nut?”

Leo swiveled his head to look back at them. “Hmm?”

“You ok?” Logan asked, watching the blond’s face for signs of nervousness or stress. But his gaze was steady, determined. For someone on their first mission, he was remarkably calm. Either that or a much better actor than Logan had given him credit for. But then his expression flickered and a shadow of doubt crept in.

“I’m fine.” He said, and Logan couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince them or himself. He reached out and gave the blond’s shoulder a squeeze, letting his hand linger before trailing it down his arm and pulling away.

“You’re fine.” Logan reassured with a smile and watched the resolve build back up in Leo’s eyes, causing the knot in Logan’s chest to ease up a little.

That was better.

Finn looked at him for a second, then took his glasses off. “Here, put these on. I feel like your cover story requires glasses.” He gently eased them onto the other boy’s face. Leo blinked rapidly, then squinted and widened his eyes to adjust to the lenses.

“Jesus, what prescription is this?”

“It’s not that bad.” Finn said, ruffling Leo’s hair in retaliation. He took a step back to see the finished product and whistled lowly. “Damn, maybe we should take those off again. We’re supposed to be unmemorable when we’re undercover. No one will be able to take their eyes off you with those on.”

Logan had to agree there. Soft blue eyes blinked back at them from behind tortoiseshell frames, looking larger than they normally did. Leo buried his nose in his scarf in an attempt to hide the blush caused by Finn’s flirtatious words.

The sight did strange things to Logan’s stomach.

Remus’ voice reached them through their com link, startling all three of them. “You guys ready to go?”

Leo took a deep, steadying breath. “Let’s do this.” He looked back at Logan, eyes fierce – a stark contrast to the soft look of only a few seconds ago. Logan sucked in a breath of his own. This kid sure was something.

“See you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit.” Logan echoed, grabbing the car keys out of his pocket and letting his lips twitch up into a smile at Finn’s cheery salute. He leaned against the car door and watched the pair make their way around the corner and towards the bank without glancing back.

He got back into the car and moved it around the same corner before putting it in park. His eyes shifted between the street in front of him and his rearview mirror, a book in his lap to keep from raising suspicions, and settled in to worry and wait.

***

Leo shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting and made his way to the front desk. Ignoring his pounding heart as best he could, he locked eyes with the teller and smiled. “Hi there. Is your manager here?” He asked, dragging his accent out slow and sweet like molasses. “I’ve got a few questions about your safes.”

She smiled back. “Sure thing. I’ll go grab him.” Leo thanked her as she left, looking around while he waited and trying his hardest not to squint too much in Finn’s glasses.

“Nut, between the accent and the glasses - plus your looks in general - I think that girl is half in love with you already.” Sirius’ voice teased, causing Leo to flinch slightly. He needed to get used to hearing the voices of people he couldn’t see during these missions.

“She is not.” He muttered back as he pretended to rub his nose, covering his mouth as he spoke so that no one else could see it. His hand absentmindedly played with the old, frayed bracelet on his wrist.

“You can do better, Nut.” Logan chimed in, voice a little gruff.

“How do you know?” Sirius asked. “You can’t even see her.”

“I’m using my imagination.”

Sirius barked out a laugh while Remus just sighed and requested that they all stay focused. Leo glanced around at the lobby again. Finn was standing in line behind him, looking at something on his phone. He forced himself not to look at his partner too long and kept scanning the rest of the lobby. It seemed to be a pretty quiet day - there weren’t too many people inside. A few people were seated in the waiting area and some were waiting in line behind Finn. Leo saw the teller and a short, balding man who must have been the bank manager making their way back towards him.

Leo stuck his hand out when they reached him, which the manager shook with a fake smile on his face.

“Hi, how are you doing?” Leo asked, withdrawing his hand. “I’m Fred Decker with Tigerking Digital Security. I have on record that you’re currently using one of our safes, is that correct?”

“Fred?” Sirius’ voice asked incredulously. “Of all the aliases you could use, you choose Fred? Nut, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Remus hissed at him to shut up. Leo ignored it.

“Yes, that’s right.” The manager said, a bit stiff. “What’s this about?”

“There’s a recall on a few of our safes. I was wondering if I could take a look at yours and see if it needs to be replaced. Free of charge, of course. This is an error on our part, and we want to do all we can to fix it.”

The manager hesitated, then nodded. “This way.”

Leo followed the man through a set of doors into a hallway, spotting Finn out of the corner of his eye as he approached the front desk and sent Leo a quick wink. That, more than anything, calmed Leo’s nerves. If Finn was acting like this was just run-of-the-mill and not a big deal, then they must’ve been doing something right. The door closed behind Leo, blocking his vision of the lobby. He took a fortifying breath and followed the manager into the safe room, secluded from the rest of the bank.

“Here we are,” The manager said, then pointed to a safe wedged into the corner of the room. “And there’s your safe.”

“The camera in the safe room is already on a loop, Leo. You’re all set.” Remus’ voice said, steady and calm. Leo looked the safe over, stalling as he waited for Finn’s distraction.

“Fuck,” he heard through his earpiece. “Leo, you’re going to have to hang in there for a few more seconds. The planned distraction didn’t work.”

Leo swallowed, looking back up at the manager. “So there’s these holes in the back, see?” He said, figuring a sure-fire way for him to stall was to talk about the safe. He could keep up a conversation like this for hours. “They’re used to bolt the safes into the wall. A few of our older models have larger holes.”

He grabbed the stiff coil of wire out of his pocket. “Some thieves have learned that you can get to the reset button in these older models if you use a tough wire like this and insert it through one of the holes. Basically all I want to do today is see if a thief could potentially do that with this safe. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, of course! If there’s a problem, our client would want that fixed immediately.”

“I’m sure they would.” Leo said absentmindedly as he started fiddling with the wire for as long as he possibly could. He straightened it out from it’s coil, looked down it’s length, and then pretended to straighten some kinks out.

Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic-

Remus’ voice was a little more tense now. “Finn, where’s that distraction?”

Finn, who was in the men’s bathroom grabbing handful after handful of paper towels and shoving them into a trash can, grumbled, “I’m working on it, ok? Sirius was right - that teller definitely has a type, and it sure as hell isn’t me. I had to improvise.”

“What does that mean?” Logan asked warily. Finn could practically see him gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he forced himself to stay put. “What are you doing?”

Finn grabbed the bottle of hand sanitizer on the bathroom sink and took the top off, dumping the contents into the trash can as well. He grabbed the lighter in his pocket (he liked to be prepared, thank you very much) and produced a small flame.

“Something stupid.”

He lowered the lighter to the trashcan and prepared to run.

Leo could hear the shouting from Finn’s distraction all the way back in the safe room. He looked up at the manager, pretending to be confused. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure.” The manager frowned, shifting from foot to foot nervously as he looked towards the commotion. “I’m going to check it out. I’ll be right back, ok?”

Leo waved him off with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right here.” He messed around with the safe until the door closed, then hissed, “Finn, what the hell is going on out there?” He moved Finn’s glasses to perch on top of his head and shoved the wire through one hole in the back of the safe. He grabbed his flashlight to look through the hole on the other side, searching for a small red button.

“I might’ve started a fire in the men’s restroom.”

“You what?” Leo demanded, finally finding the reset button and moving the wire steadily closer to it. “You do realize that does the exact opposite of give me more time, right?” Sure enough, the fire alarm sounded, loud and clear.

“Fuck me.” Leo muttered as he jabbed the reset button with the wire. Someone - Leo thought it might be Finn, but he wasn’t sure - muttered something too soft and muffled to be picked up by their mic. Leo didn’t have the time to question it. The safe door opened with a soft click. He quickly switched the flash drive with the replica and closed the door again. The wire got recoiled and shoved back into his pocket, Finn’s glasses returned to resting on his nose. He climbed to his feet and made his way towards the lobby at a quick pace. “I’ve got it.”

“Nice work, Nut.” He heard Logan say, and couldn’t repress the jittery feeling he always got after a successful job. He exited the bank, looking around for the manager. He seemed busy as he talked to his employees in an attempt to get the situation under control. He caught Leo’s eyes and stepped towards him. “Mr. Decker! I was looking for you.”

Leo only just remembered to over-exaggerate his accent. “I heard the alarm and high-tailed it out here. Was it a prank?”

“No,” He said after a beat of hesitation, “Someone actually started a fire in the men’s bathroom. The fire department is on its way. Hopefully it won’t take too long and you can get back to looking at that safe.”

“No need, I already finished. The holes were too small for the wire, so y’all should be fine. Anything thinner than the wire I used will be too flimsy to press that reset button.” Leo glanced down at his watch. “I do have six more banks to visit today, though, so I’m afraid this is where I leave you. Thank you for being so cooperative.” He held out his hand for the manager to shake again and gave one last smile before walking back down the street towards their designated rendezvous, trying to look casual and not like he was running away from the scene of a theft.

Sure enough, a non-descript gray car was waiting for him, right where it was supposed to be. Without a word, he climbed into the back and sprawled across all three seats, throwing an arm over his eyes as Logan put the car into drive.

The three of them were silent for a few seconds before Leo cracked a smile and laughed. “The one thing – the one thing that could get me kicked out of that safe room too fast, and that’s what you decided would make a perfect distraction?”

Finn looked back at the back seat with a grin, which softened when he laid eyes on the blond. His hair shone in the late-morning sunlight, highlighting a streak of gray at his temple. Those long legs of his took up most of the back row, and even then he still had to bend his knees to fit all the way. His eyes were blocked by his arm, but Finn could’ve seen those dimples via satellite image from space.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I was making it up as I went.” This sent Leo into another fit of laughter, causing Finn’s smile to broaden.

“Besides,” Logan added, “You’re quick with your hands. You didn’t need all ten minutes, you barely needed three.”

Leo shrugged, which looked really strange in his current position on his back. “Got lucky. Found that reset button faster than I usually do.” He adjusted Finn’s glasses, which were still resting on his nose. “Maybe I need glasses, too.”

“Shut up. Those glasses are a statement piece, thank you very much.”

Logan snorted, watching Leo’s hand reach over the center console to return the glasses to their rightful owner. “Maybe that’s why you’re a terrible marksman, O’Hara. When’s the last time you got that prescription checked?”

Finn gasped in offense. Logan glanced over briefly and noticed the tips of his ears getting red. Cute.

“How dare you! I am not a terrible marksman!”

“That’s not what your file says.”

“What?”

“The evidence doesn’t lie.” Logan said, struggling to bite back his grin. Finn was just so fun to tease.

“Screw debriefing. When we get back to the office, we’re going to the shooting range.” Finn crossed his arms over his chest sulkily. “Terrible marksman. How dare they. Nutter Butter, back me up here.”

Leo blinked at the new nickname, but he couldn’t say he minded it too much. Especially when Finn said it like that, with such unfiltered affection. He watched the redhead turn around in his seat to look at him with big Bambi eyes, only then remembering that he was looking for an answer from Leo.

He put on a show of thinking about it, then shrugged. “I dunno, Finn. The evidence doesn’t lie.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Finn whined. “Betrayed by both of my partners. Unbelievable.”

Leo wished there was another word for partner. Maybe he should refer to them as just coworkers now. The term partner was giving him ideas.

Ideas he couldn’t afford to be having for the first and quite possibly the biggest op of his life.

“Also, you’re one to talk!” Leo looked back up at Finn when he realized he was talking to him. “Have you ever shot a gun before, rookie?” He stopped suddenly, then grinned broadly. “Oh man, please tell me you’ve shot a gator when you were back in Louisiana. That’s so badass.”

Leo arched an eyebrow.

“Just because there’s horror stories about gators doesn’t mean they deserve to be shot.” Logan said, switching his turn signal on and waiting for the left turn light to change from red to green. “They’re a big part of the ecosystem.”

“And they kill people.”

“Oh come on, when’s the last time you heard of someone being killed by a gator?”

“Literally last week, down in Florida.”

“Well, that’s Florida. Crazy stuff like that happens in Florida all the time.”

“Did you hear about that guy from Florida who made a beer run while holding a gator?”

Logan chuckled, glancing over at his partner in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me! Apparently he walked in, looked around and asked ‘Y’all ain’t out of beer, are you?’ But then the story gets weirder!”

Leo just sat in the backseat and laughed at Finn’s dramatic retelling of Florida news as building after building flashed by outside their windows, feeling lighter than air. His first mission was a success. He grabbed the small, innocuous flash drive out of his pocket, twirling it in his hand. One down, six more to go. If all missions were like this, taking down the Snakes wouldn’t be so bad.

He should’ve knocked on wood after having that thought.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine

194 notes · View notes

grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years

Text

static

AO3.

Summary: Reset, rewind, repeat.

Mono can't fix the ending all alone. He tries anyway.

Six helps.

Static fizzes as Mono catapults through the television screen. Shattered glass rains down around him, tinkling like so many bells as he lands on dewy grass. The smell of mulch and decay clogs his throat, but the boy sits up, adjusts his paper bag over his eyes, and stands. His coat will be wet for hours.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

This time he doesn’t reach the basement, even though the note of Six’s music box rise faintly up the stairway. Mono’s throat closes up at the sound, his fists curling in on themselves naturally. The emotion choking him is foreign and Mono does not try to understand it.

He uses a box of spare parts and animal skins to reach the attic and finds the key. The fear The Hunt instills in him is stale by now, but he still runs through the tall grass and ducks down the embankment. Mono never trips anymore; he knows every pebble and root and blade of grass. His knees remain free of blood and grit. His coat isn’t as muddy this time.

He makes it to the broken down bridge before realizing his mistake. The Hunter shoots him in the back and, buckshot melting his skin with its heat and trajectory, Mono allows himself to squeeze out exactly one tear of frustration before he falls face first into the approaching darkness.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

He’s so tired. Fatigue sinks into his skin, erodes his bones, sucks away his marrow. He is nothing but a husk, a puppet to the static. He doesn’t remember how many times he’s died. He doesn’t remember how many times he’s grown into The Thin Man.

At least Six didn’t drop him this last time.

The need to rest chokes him as he enters The Hunter’s home. It trails after him, weighing down his feet, pushing against him like a strong wind. Mono just wants to sleep. It will do him no good.

He breaks into Six’s room. She looks up at him. Mono removes his mask. She stares, pauses, lunges.

Her hands are so small and so very strong around Mono’s throat. Her teeth glint in the low evening light. The music box stutters to a stop in time with Mono’s heart. He dies hoping this time he won’t open his eyes again.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

The betrayal isn’t as potent now, but Mono still refuses to give Six his hand this time. He doesn’t get close enough for her to push past him; instead he simply sidesteps her as she comes barrelling out of the basement where she’s (always, always) locked up. He knows they’ll meet again under the attic.

He’s not sure what he has to change to get out of here, but it’s obvious he’s missing something. (He’s always missing something. Mono is not the monster with eyes everywhere. He doesn’t know where to look.)

Six catches him when he jumps the bridge. Her strength is disproportionate to her body, but Mono lets it go (like always). This time, when The Hunter catches up to them, Six is the one to pull the trigger. It does nothing to ease the pit in Mono’s stomach. They find the shore. They cross the water. Above their heads, The Pale City bends towards Mono’s (wishful) final resting place.

He wonders if Six remembers anything. It closes his throat again. His limbs turn to stone, his heartbeat slow in his own ears. The paper of his bag is sometimes hard to breathe through.

Let’s go.

Mono wants to tell Six he can’t move. He’s grown roots, and they want to pull him down into the water, seeking to drown him.

She holds out her hand. Her eyes are bright pinpricks behind her shaggy hair. They are the last sight Mono ever sees (always).

Mono takes her hand.

He tries to lead them around the school this time; if Mono never lets anything happen to Six, if she’s never taken from his side, she won’t have a reason to doubt him, will she?

But the only way out is through. And even then, they don’t always survive.

Mono feels The Teacher’s jaws close around him, crushing his ribs, compacting his spine. Six’s head bounces sickeningly off of the wood floor as The Bullies surround her, laughing. Before his eyes pop out of his skull, they lock with Six’s; she bares her teeth and fights against grasping hands harder than before. Her fingers scratch and claw at the air, reaching for him. Weak and dying, Mono is helpless to do anything but reach back with broken bones and missing nails.

Static floods him again.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

He can’t keep her safe. The Doctor kills them. The Patients kill them. The Viewers kill them. She can’t keep him safe. He wonders if she really wants to. He knows he wouldn’t, if he were in her place.

Next time The Thin Man reaches for them and they run, Mono pushes her in front of himself. They turn the corner, hustle down the hallway, skid into the child’s bedroom. Her yellow coattails whip against her knees as she runs. The bag slips low over his eyes.

Mono shoves her under the bed; there’s no time to wince at the resounding thud of her body making contact with the bedframe, no time for apologies. The Thin Man (always) comes through the doorway, the air warping and shifting around him. Mono is out of time.

Six makes a muffled sound of protest as he turns and faces the monster. He’s already dying; the static is converging, the light blinding his eyes (so soon). It tells him there is no use to his actions, that the loops will continue and continue and continue. The paradox remains unbroken. It sets his teeth on edge.

Mono charges, fists swinging.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

He wonders from time to time if Six can remember anything from the other loops. Sometimes she looks at Mono strangely when she catches his hand after a long jump. This time, after he died to The Thin Man for the first loop in a very long time, after he sacrificed himself for her, Six acts very strange.

Strange for Six, anyway.

She doesn’t let Mono go first when they reach the school, or the hospital. She crawls after him through vents and windows instead of waiting for him to come back.

It gets worrying when they switch places when The Bullies come. Mono is overwhelmed, struggling and kicking much more ineffectually than Six ever does, before he is dragged away. Six shouts wordlessly from inside the locker, banging her fists against the metal; he sees her shift underneath, her bright gaze locking on him before his bag twists and he can’t see anything but paper. He doesn’t have the heart to scream.

She takes longer to find him than Mono usually does to find her; but then, her hands are bloodied and scraped when she does come to untie him from the trap The Bullies (always) set up. Mono doesn’t think she ever uses tools to kill.

They forge ever onwards.

The Patients, for however much larger they all are than Mono and Six, fall beneath her will like dominos. She snarls when The Doctor crawls into the furnace after Mono, holds her hand out and pulls him from the ashes when he clambers out. Six is the one to pull the switch. She doesn’t take the time to warm her hands on the fire. Her fingers are slick and wet and red when they entwine with his.

They huddle close at night like they always have, but now Six pushes her shoulder up against his instead of shying away from touch. Her coat and his are damp, but she radiates more heat than Mono usually does. The drone of distant televisions lulls them both to sleep, and, in the morning, she is the first to stand. She offers Mono her hand.

He’s not sure what has changed. Mono takes it.

He slips on loose roofing shingles hours later and breaks his neck in the fall. Six screams after him the entire way down.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

He does everything right this time. He shatters every television screen, fights every monster, flips every switch. Beside him, Six shifts on her feet as if she’s uncomfortable. Mono goes through The Pale City mechanically, clinically, silently. She takes his hand every time he’s still. His fingers are limp in hers now.

Stop. She tells him one night, holed up in a dirty old apartment. Mono’d had to run back and forth for hours, switching screens on and off, before The Viewer inside fell out the open kitchen window. His muscles scream but his mind has set to faint, animal whimpers. He feels like death, but then, death is an old friend. Six shakes his hand in hers, jerking his arm and shoulder until Mono looks at her. Her eyes are dark and bright at the same time, wide and unblinking. He thinks she may have blood smeared across her mouth, but it’s too dark in here to tell. Stop. Rest.

Mono shakes his head. He has tried to stop. Nothing changes. Six huffs and Mono almost smiles in response; her temper is always so close to the surface. Impatiently, Six pulls at his hands and pushes at his shoulders until she has situated Mono on the dilapidated old couch. She stands in front of him, arranging his legs on the cushions and his hands in his lap, and does not acknowledge the broken glass spread out under her feet. The television behind her is a dark, useless void. Six nods and flaps her hands at Mono when she’s finished. Stop, she tells him. Rest.

They get up early the next morning and continue on. Mono doesn’t think Six really needs to sleep. She is always awake before him in the morning and stays up much later into the night. She takes his hand as they claw their way slowly through The Pale City. She tests their footing every so often, and Mono wonders, wonders, wonders.

They find a rooftop garden this time. Six’s head jerks towards him as Mono gasps under his breath. She keeps her distance as he jumps into the plants, rooting through the dirt. The fronds and leaves are rough and discolored, but they almost pulse against Mono’s fingers, filled with life like nothing else in this place is. Again, he chokes on emotions he doesn’t want to examine. Six tilts her head curiously when Mono returns to her and holds up a small, dingy, old pot. The sprout nestled in the soil inside is very young, and very, very fragile.

I like plants. He tells her. Out of the corner of his eye, Six starts. He guesses it’s because she’s not used to him communicating with her. He forgets his words so much these days. It’s just easier to keep them bottled up inside. They won’t change anything anyway.

When he goes to set the potted plant down again, though, Six stops him. Carry it with us for a while. Just a little while.

He does. It almost helps.

The Thin Man comes for Six (always). He reaches through the screen, grasping at air and swiping across the dirty floorboards as she falls back in alarm. This time, though, Mono hurls himself towards her rather than running away. He can’t take this, can’t take her being tortured and warped and broken and him finding her and hurting them both even more and Six (always, always, always) dropping him in the end. The Thin Man’s hands crush the breath from his lungs, toppling Mono’s mask from his head as he pulls Mono back through the screen. Before the static fills him again, Mono sees two tiny fists slam against the glass, and smiles without quite knowing why.

Static fizzes as Mono catapults through the television screen. Glass tinkles like so many bells as he lands on dewy grass. The smell of mulch and decay clogs his throat, but the boy sits up, adjusts his paper bag over his eyes, and stands. His coat will be wet for hours.

Mono sets off towards his fate.

Six is waiting for him when he bursts through her door this time. Her music box is silent. She steps up to him and holds out her hand. Mono takes it.

This time, I'll catch you, Six tells Mono. I’ll catch you.

And she does.

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (ii) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 2631

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

>>>

One dinner turns into two, two to three, and three to countless more. From both your shared interest in animals, your friendship blossoms, branching out into more and more areas as you spend more time together in each other’s company.

You learn that he likes cleaning and cooking, he watches ASMR to calm down. He’s an Aries and enjoys singing to himself when he thinks no one else is watching. He loves cats, but he’s afraid his father might not like them, so doesn’t bring them home.

He’s gentle and kind hearted. When he loves, he falls deeply. That’s how the death of his mother had destroyed him so utterly. He doesn’t really consider himself a bad boy, but he does admit that he’s been a bit of a rebel. The two of you laugh at it sometimes.

And with every new thing you learn about him, you feel yourself falling a little more.

San never comments about how much the two of you have started hanging out more, merely watches the two of you from a café at the opposite side of the road through the glass window with a content smile, face hidden by a nondescript black cap and newspaper. You laugh and nod your head at something Seonghwa says, the nerves once so apparent in your eyes when looking at his friends completely gone as Seonghwa sets down his cup, wiping the coffee foam from the corner of your mouth.

Your face flushes red in embarrassment and you bat Seonghwa’s hand away shyly, laughing at yourself. San folds up his newspaper, rising to his feet as he places a fifty dollar bill on the table. His work here is done.

“Sir, you haven’t ordered-” One of the waiters try to ask him, but he merely points at the money on the table and brushes past the man out of the shop without a second glance, standing in the street under the gloomy sky. His eyes linger on your smiling face for a moment, the silver cat charm bracelet around your wrist, remembering the days when he was the one who would wipe the cream from your cheek only to dab it on your nose instead, laughing as you attempted to catch him. You never quite managed it, but he stopped running for you.

But now, it’s different.

“She’ll be good for him.” San murmurs under his breath with a soft smile. The heavens open and rain falls to the ground, droplets turning the pavement dark grey with the tears of the sky. He watches as you and Seonghwa leap up in surprise upon feeling the first drops, Seonghwa taking you by the arm and pulling you under the cover of a shop’s tarp, the two of you laughing together uncontrollably as Seonghwa removes the leather jacket from his arms and setting it over your shoulders.

You pull it closer and smile adorably at Seonghwa as you accept the jacket, but then your eyes seem to catch a glimpse of him and you squint, trying to make out his features in the pouring rain.

San immediately hitches up the collar of his coat, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the bell on his bracelet jingles, as if calling out for its partner just a few feet away. He tells it to stay silent in his mind, pulling his coat closer around him as he turns away from you and walks down the street alone in the downpour.

Wetness slides down his cheeks, and his own tongue darts out to chase it. He frowns a little, shaking his head as he continues making his way.

“Rain tastes salty today.” He mutters to himself.

“I think I like Seonghwa.” You tell your best friend one day, sipping at a caramel macchiato at a cafe.

To your surprise, San doesn’t seem the least bit shocked, sucking on his straw noisily before giving you a huge, shit-eating grin. “So, details, details. I need all the juicy bits, you know.”

“Nuh uh.” You pout at him, your charm bracelet jingling at your wrist. Honestly, San’s skill set is so varied you’re not even surprised that he already knows that you like Seonghwa. You’ve often joked that San could either grow up to become a fashion mogul, a politician or even a hitman, but you know somewhere in you that it holds a shred of truth.

“He’s just… really sweet to me, you know?” You tell San, thinking about Seonghwa’s gentle smile and the way he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, the same way San used to do for you with his red coat. That’s how you had known Seonghwa really cared about you.

Your best friend nods, watching the way your eyes sparkle. “Go on.”

“And he really connects with me, cares about me. He even brought me to the vet he works at and he told me he’s going to start studying really hard so that he can be a vet in the future.” You spill everything, a warm smile on your face at the thought of him. “We’re going to study later over at my house, so do you want to come along with-”

Your voice suddenly trails off when you catch sight of the melancholy smile on San’s face. “Sanshine? Sanie? Are you alright?”

At your words, San snaps out of it immediately, shaking his head, a flawless smile erasing all trace of his previous dejection. But you know him better than that and catch his hand, your twin charm bracelets tinkling against each other as you looks at him pleadingly.

“San, what’s wrong?”

San pauses for a moment as his expression tries to ease back into a smile, but you can see his mask splintering under the weight of your gaze, cracked and uncomfortable. When he finally admits to you the truth in a small voice, your heart breaks.

“I don’t want you to date Seonghwa.”

“Then I won’t.” You promise San determinedly. Yes, you like Seonghwa, but San? The boy who has been at your side for so long, the one with a smile as bright as breaking dawn, the one that held you as your cried over your results and the one that puts that red coat around your shoulders? He’s your best friend. You can’t do without him.

But San shakes his head, gently pulling your fingers away from his wrist and setting your hand down on the cold tabletop.

“No. Don’t hold yourself back because of my own selfish wishes. It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” He tells you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You stare at him for a long moment, and he simply ruffles your hair. “After all, that’s why I made you and Seonghwa meet in the first place.” His smile grows a little more genuine, he’s really happy. “I don’t regret it.”

You can’t help it anymore, throwing your arms around San in a tight hug as tears gather in your eyes. “I don’t love you any less, San. I really don’t. I promise you.”

San closes his eyes and rests his forehead against your shoulder. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest, the sensation of soaring and falling at the same time lingering in his body. But he forces the thickness in his throat aside, nodding.

“I know.”

You’re sitting on your bed as you flip through your notes for the fifth time the day, cheeks puffed out in frustration.

“Stupid algebra. Stupid calculus.” You huff under your breath and Seonghwa glances up at you from your desk with an amused smile.

“Having some trouble?” He asks, setting his biology textbook to the side and rising to his feet to come peer at the paper you’re attempting to do. His chin rests on your shoulder, like it always does, but ever since you’ve realised your feelings for Seonghwa, you’ve been increasingly jumpy around him.

And to your horror, your reflexes kick in and your elbow flies into his midriff, the school’s ‘bad boy’ choking in pain as he topples off your bed and onto the ground where he wheezes, clutching his stomach.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You yelp, clambering off the bed in a panic to check if he’s alright. “Are you okay-”

You don’t manage to finish asking your question because your foot catches on one of his long legs and you go sprawling on top of him, face buried in his chest. He catches you with his arms before you can go skidding off him and onto the floor, but the impact knocks the air from your lungs.

“Oww…” You groan quietly, putting one hand on the ground to push yourself off Seonghwa as you glance upwards. “I’m so sorry, I-”

Your words are cut off when you realise that you’re barely inches away from each other, his wide, deep brown eyes interlocked with yours. A gasp catches in your throat as you realise the compromising position the two of you are in, one of your legs slung across his hips with your noses nearly touching.

“I… I’m so sorry-” You babble mindlessly, trying to regain enough sense of mind to get off him before you make this weirder than it already is, but then Seonghwa’s hand catches your wrist and holds tight, refusing to let you go.

Glancing at him in shock, you can count every delicate eyebrow as they sweep against his cheeks, feel his warm body pressed against yours as his eyes blink like the shutters of a camera, as if trying to commit your every feature to memory. He looks equally as stunned as you are by the boldness of his action, but can’t quite seem to pull his hand from yours, eyes still fixated on yours.

The two of you don’t move in the least, frozen in time. Every puff of air that leaves his mouth brushes your lips, as if begging you to take his mouth with yours, and you very clearly see his pupils dilate to twice their normal size, his lips slightly parted as he swallows audibly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Then that tongue, that stupid, sinful tongue of his, runs over his bottom lip, wetting it before his teeth catch the piercing there, tugging on it lightly and you just snap.

“Damn this.” You curse, grabbing the lapel of his shirt and Seonghwa’s eyes widen with alarm at your sudden aggressiveness.

“What are you do-”

His words are cut off when you lean forward, taking his chin with your other hand and pulling him up towards you. He barely manages to process anything, every thought fleeing him and his mind goes blank, because there can only be one thing you’re intending to do, but you can’t possibly be intending to do that and he must be crazy for hoping that that’s what you’re intending to do and-

Your lips touch.

It’s soft at first, your mouth brushing his like the faintest whisper of wind, barely slanting over it, but it’s enough, more than enough to send a delightful shiver up his spine, his arms feel weak under him and he’s stunned stupid, barely able to process a thing except the feeling of your lips on his.

After a few seconds, you pull away, glancing at him worriedly. He doesn’t respond, merely staring at you like he’s been electrocuted, completely unmoving. Panic floods through you. Did you read him wrongly? Did you overstep your boundaries? Did you just ruin your friendship in an attempt to reach for something more? You almost feel tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but you force it down, needing to hear him tell you if you’ve done something wrong.

“Seonghwa? Seonghwa?” You ask him softly, but you can’t help the way your voice almost cracks, terrified that you might have just destroyed your relationship in a single blow. Seonghwa, for all his silent calm disposition, merely starts a little, as if he’s just woken up from a deep dream, unfocused eyes slowly shifting to fix on your face once more.

“Again…” His voice is a low rasp, and you stare at him in shock, unsure if you’ve heard him right. He clears his throat, shifting beneath you so that he’s leaning against the wall, one hand coming up to rest against your cheek. Then he looks at you so earnestly, pupils blown wide, meeting your gaze with a pleading one of his own. “Again… please.”

The last word is practically begging you, relief crashes over you. You didn’t mess up, and he actually wants this. So this time, feeling a little more confident, you take your time, thumb brushing the cool metal of his lip piercing and his lips part in response to your touch, teeth coming out instinctively to nip at the pad of your fingers.

Your heart stops in your chest.

His eyes are closed, utterly vulnerable as he waits for you to take the first step. Cradling his jaw gently with the back of your fingers, you lean forward once more, your mouth pressing fully against his this time.

You feel him tremble underneath you, the two of you lost in your own little space and time. You smell clean soap and feel his body heat rising through his clothes as his arms come up to settle on your waist, resting there lightly but never pulling you forward, not wanting to push you. His lips are soft, ever so slightly chapped under yours, and you can’t help but feel the coolness of the lip ring against your heated mouth.

Unconsciously, your lips part and the tip of your tongue strokes it.

Seonghwa freezes beneath you, every muscle in his body going rigid as desire floods through him. Then he’s reaches for you, thumb pressing your mouth open as his lips move against yours once more. As if in revenge for earlier, you tease his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling at it until it’s swollen and sensitive, before sucking it into your mouth.

A groan escapes his throat into your mouth.

Every part of him is melting into you, and he doesn’t care one bit.

Finally, after how long, neither of you know, the two of you break apart. Seonghwa’s bottom lip is puffy and red and he’s panting for breath, clothes mussed and you rest your forehead against his, arms around his neck as you smile at him breathlessly.

“So,” You whisper to him with a smile that he thinks he’ll never tire of seeing, “what are we now, Seonghwa?”

His mind is still in disarray, but he knows the words that he’s spent the last few weeks practicing in the mirror by heart.

“Please.” Park Seonghwa takes your hands in his, eyes filled with genuine love meeting yours. The next words that leave his lips change everything between the two of you. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Hello, Mother.” Seonghwa stands before a marble tombstone, a bouquet of baby’s breath in his hands as he smiles at the woman in the picture. Setting down the flowers, he watches as the golden brown and red leaves of autumn twirl around him, dancing with the breeze as they fall to the ground, just like they did three years ago when you had met him back in high school.

But this time, he no longer crushes them with his hand, a gentle smile blooming on his face instead like a flower in the spring.

“Maybe autumn can be beautiful too.”

Turning around, he takes your hand. You smile at him and he drops a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, before the two of you turn around and walk down the path strewn with autumn leaves.

#ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez fanfic #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #w; seonghwa #w; fanfiction

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Grounded: Level 6

Level 5 | Level 7

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader, angst cause is it a dana fic if there is no angst

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs @yunapixie

[J U N E 2 0 2 0]

“COOKIN’ LIKE A CHEF I’M A FIVE STAR 미슐랭 "미"의 정점을 찍고 눈에 보여 ILLUSION!”

“Jesus Christ!” Ju Rin screams at all of you, yelling at the top of your lungs as you follow the lyrics and fanchant of the song. “The Hell’s wrong with you people?!”

Minjung giggles until she’s sobbing and rolling on the floor, So Eun and Gahyun take turns singing the lines of the different members while you get to your feet and stretch.

You’re about to head out the studio to the bathroom when Ju Rin calls out to you, casually jogging over to you by the door.

“Before I forget, Bang PD said he wanted to see you in his office tonight.”

The new information strikes an uncomfortable chord in you.

“What? Why? Did I do something-”

“No,” Ju Rin quickly shakes her head, hand coming to rest on your lower arm. “It’s time to make a decision. A real one,” She looks behind her shoulder and at the bunch of girls who were all younger than the both of you before turning back to you. “One that would be forged in your signature and last for the next 7 years.”

Ju Rin’s eyes hold worlds of both caution and wander. This is no longer just a game of “let me see how long more I can train before I think I’m ready”. It has become a fact that the company believes you’re ready, and now they’ll be presenting you with an opportunity of a lifetime. Something that you wouldn’t be able to reverse once you’ve agreed to it.

“He said that if you can’t give him an answer tonight, he’ll understand, but you still need to make a decision after all... So,” She pauses and rubs your upper arms. “Think carefully, and make your decision wisely. I don’t want you to walk into something you’d want to walk out of.”

You’re in the pantry of the floor where it was quieter than normal - TXT had a schedule that day and wouldn’t be spending the day in the studio. The chance of a lifetime’s sitting in the heart of your palms now, all you have to do is to pick up a pen and write your name down before the next 7 years of your life would be planned out for you.

You weren’t sure if you needed someone’s motivation or encouragement to well your bravery for tonight, but you knew for sure you just needed to know someone would be there for you.

You: Hey, call me when you’re free? I just... thought I should tell you something.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hit send and drop the phone back into your pocket. The ceramic mugs by the coffee machine calls out to you, and you run one under the tap when you feel the vibration in your pocket. A smile stretches across your face, pleasantly surprised at the speed of reaction now.

“That was quick,” You flick the mug, water droplets hurling back into the sink.

“What is it? Better be worth it, IN-ie just brought back some fried chicken and any longer I’ll- YAH! DON’T TOUCH MY SHARE!”

A sharp ring echoes through your right ear canal as you pull the phone away from your ear, “My God-”

“Yes,” The man returns to the line. “What was it you needed to tell me about?”

“Are you sure this is a good time?” You place your mug under the coffee machine nozzle and press the cappucino button. “I can call you back later-”

“No, no, it’s fine. We’re having our lunch break anyway. What’s wrong? You sound stressed.”

The steady stream of water, then coffee and milk creates a layer of foam in your mug.

“Ah... Let me guess - It’s the contract.”

“Mm,” The hum might’ve been overwhelmed by the sudden cough and whir of the machine, but it goes back to it’s gentle chittering as the stream slows to a few droplets.

“What are you worried about? You’ve already spent so much time training, not to mention building that bond with your members... Are you the only one that has yet to sign the contract?”

“No, they’re going by position and age. Ju Rin’s the only person who’s signed it and the rest don’t know yet.”

“Strange that you guys didn’t have the signing together.”

“Knowing Ju Rin, she probably wouldn’t have wanted that,” A pause as you process the thought of her being your leader. There was nobody else better to be it than her. “She wouldn’t have wanted anybody to sign it under pressure, so she probably suggested the individual signing to Bang PD instead.”

“Fair,” He pauses. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know.”

“’I don’t know’ doesn’t sound like a great response at this point of time.”

“I know... I just... What if... What if I’m not good enough, you know? What if I mess up along the way and Ju Rin or BigHit’s gotta clean up my shit?”

“Everybody messes up at some point or another. You’re gonna be under constant scrutiny, possibly apologise for things you don’t have to apologise for, but that’s just a small cost you need to pay for pursuing your dreams. You don’t get to paradise without riding the worst storms.”

You wrap your fingers around the ceramic of the cup, carefully pulling a sip of the foam onto your tongue.

“I can hear you, you know.”

“Sorry,” Licking the foam off your upper lip, you snicker to yourself and turn to the door of the pantry, the metallic frame of the doors showing you a version of yourself that you wouldn’t have recognised four years ago.

“Anyway, we both know you’ve already made your decision when you decided to stay for so long, and meet all your members. You’re only hesitating now because you’re afraid of mistakes, so if it makes you feel any better - which I know probably won’t - you will mess up, but it will be okay.”

“Great pep-talk,” You sneer into the receiver end of the phone. Minho’s laughter echoes through the line, and you can already picture his eyes turning into thick, dark lines as he smiles.

“I always be here, alright? Nothing to fear.”

[N O V E M B E R 2 0 2 0]

“I’m not joking when I say I think Gahyun has a crush on Beom,” The drifting dried leaves on the floor crunch under your shoes as Minho turns to you, flicking a small twig out of your now blue-dyed hair. You just had your pre-debut photoshoot, and they were set to be released sometime in 2021.

“Should you be telling me this information?” Minho readjusts his beret, making it fit better on his head while he leads you around the corner and up the stairs to some secret back door.

“Repeating this information to a bunch of girls who already know this information gets boring. Don’t you guys have crushes on like - TWICE or ITZY or something?”

“Oh, that’s a deep grave to dig,” He pushes the door open without hesitation, the scent of grilled chicken and wine hitting you straight in the face.

“Aw, come on!” The whine is cut short when a waiter comes by to tend to you. It wasn’t a surprise when the waiter recognised him, even with all that disguise on. The restaurant was two floors worth, but only the first was open to the public. The second - specially reserved for idols.

Man, the things Dispatch would do to know this place exists and the people idols bring here.

“We’re serving the Christmas specials today because we know a lot of companies are letting idols go for an advanced holiday,” The waiter pulls out two menus from under the desk where you’ve stopped, turning around and gesturing for you to follow him. “I’ll be your waiter for today, so just call for me if you need me.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You offered the waiter a smile, forgetting that the mask was hiding it. The waiter bows and leaves the two of you alone in the corner of the room, allowing Minho to finally feel comfortable enough to remove his mask.

A gasp gets sucked through your throat when you remove your mask, eyes glued to the menu. “Tangerine grilled chicken and steak!”

Minho doesn’t bother to stifle the yawn that was coming out from his lungs, eyes halving into long lines.

“Are you allowed to drink?” You notice the drinks menu, nearly the entire page covered with some kind of beer, soju, wine or sake.

“I mean, I’m technically off work, and all those news sites don’t know this place exists so- as long as I’m not drunk, why not?”

“Very nice,” Scanning the list of alcohol, you decided Minho needed some outlet of release before he goes back to work - also known as being stressed 24/7.

Minho helped place your orders, and instead of the two glasses of wine you had initially wanted to order, he calls for an entire bottle of 1940 Chateau.

The waiter doesn’t seem at all bothered that the young idol was ordering a three-hundred-dollar bottle of alcohol, only focused on noting the food that was spewing off Minho’s tongue. The waiter then thanks the two of you, promising to return with the wine first before he leaves.

Leaning forwards across the table, your eyes frown at him. “Are you nuts? There’s no way we’re going to be able to finish that.”

Minho interlocks his fingers and rests his chin on them with his elbows perched on the surface of the table. “You underestimate me.”

An eyeroll finds you, snorting in exasperation before leaning back in your seat.

“I’m sorry for being busy recently. Pre-debut’s pretty tough.”

“I love how it took you three years before you understood that.”

You roll your eyes again.

“Anyway, how’s work? How are your members?”

“Ah- I bring you out for a nice meal and you repay me by asking me about how much money I earn? Eish-”

“Wha-” Hurling a pack of that alcohol wipes across the table, he snickered when it hits him and lands on the floor. “You’re really full of shit.”

Minho grins that gummy smile of his, pulling off his cap and ruffling his hair after picking up the pack of alcohol wipes. “Work’s fine. Mr Park Jin Young, however, suggested we do a 2PM cover during the SBS Gayo Daejeon festival at the end of the year.”

“2PM? Aren’t their concepts kinda... mature?” The utensils on the table garner your attention as Minho scans the message that popped up on his phone.

“Yeah, so guess what song we’re covering?”

You look up at the hint of pride in his voice, and his cheeks were cupped in his own hands, cutely staring at you.

A disgusted sneer finds your face and you pull one of his arms out from under him to stop the horrid sight. "Let me guess... Again and Again?"

"Wow, you're really good-"

"Aw, thanks-"

"At guessing the wrong answers.”

He flinches when you almost lunge forwards, fork in your grip.

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me too much to stop," His eyes are filled with playfulness, the kinds that you'd be able to recognise just by looking at his gaze.

"Ew," You don't take into consideration his choice of vocabulary, sitting back down in your seat when the bottle of wine comes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Minho bites on his bottom lip to control the giggle that’s about to explode from his mouth, nodding subtly at the waiter so that he could get the bottle of wine open.

“Anyway, he suggested My House.”

Minho watched intently as your eyes double their original size, with the gentle gurgle of the wine being poured into the two glasses being the closest source of noise. He knows you’re about to burst out into some manic laughter, so he already has his lips tutted and and eyeroll ready to give himself a headache.

“My House?” You can feel your brows going so far up your forehead, it feels like you’re stretching the skin. “Park Jin Young wants a bunch of kids dancing to that song that’s about bringing a girl home and smashing? Ha!”

“Do you have nothing nice to say?”

“Says the one who just dissed me for giving wrong answers,” The waiter closes the wine bottle and places it into the ice bucket on the tray next to the table. Minho thanks the waiter, shaking his head as you take the glass and swirl the alcohol.

“I’ll let you win this one round,” He takes a sip from the wine. “So, I heard about the finalised line-up about your group.”

“Oh, that was a blast,” You offer a hearty laugh, memory unable to wipe away the visual of So Eun being crowned the ‘Centre’ of the group. Everyone had expected Gahyun, the Visual, to be the centre, and frankly, she hated it. So, it was all glitter and fireworks when it was announced Ga Eun be the center, essentially making her vice-Visual. You push your phone across the table, an unofficial and unpublished version of the BigHit website rolled up on the screen.

“Wang Ju Rin, Leader, Lead Vocalist, Sub-Rapper. l/n y/n, Main Dancer, Lead-Rapper, Sub-Vocalist. Choi Ga Hyun, Lead Vocalist, Lead Rapper, Lead Dancer, Visual,” He pauses. “Ga Hyun sounds like a Han Jisung.”

“I see he’s your favourite member today.”

Glaring at you, he takes his time to return to the screen. “Kang So Eun, Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Sub-Vocalist, Center. Gwang Min Jung, Main Vocalist, Lead Rapper, maknae,” He slides the phone back to you. “Remind me how old the rest are again, besides you and Ju Rin?”

“Gahyun and So Eun are 2001 liners but Min Jung is a 2003 liner.”

“Lovely age gap,” He shakes his head. “Then again IN debuted when he was 16 so I guess...”

“Funny how I was 16 when I was scouted,” You place the fork down, suddenly pulling the atmosphere down with you.

“You talk about this as if you can erase that signature on that contract.”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I know I don’t regret it. I just-” A pause to collect your thoughts. “What else would I be doing other than this, you know? University? Working in some shoddy cafe?”

“What are you- writing a narrative for yourself now?”

“Jesus Christ, will you shut up for once in your life and let me finish my piece-”

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 2 0]

The manager for Stray Kids was busy sheltering you and a few other guests that the members themselves had chosen to be invited to the Gayo Daejeon Festival before the year ended.

TXT was already in the building rehearsing and your trainee-members would be coming later nearer to their performance.

Rain peltering against the black umbrella, the staff struggles to keep you and the other guests out of sight, though you've already been warned by the person who invited you to come in sunglasses and a mask. (Not that it was legal to walk around without one now anyway).

You've met the members’ siblings before, so the situation inside the vehicles were more than comfortable. The staff at SBS hands all of you visitor passes, with your name and the name of the person who invited you printed on the tag. The manager brings the group of you into the studio where the stage was set up, just in time to watch Stray Kids perform a practice round - this time, a cover of 2pm's My House.

"Wah!" Seungmin's sister exclaims and covers her mouth (as if her mask wasn't already doing the job), her free hand landing on your shoulder. "What is Lee Know even wearing?"

It hasn't even caught your attention, because you were so preoccupied with their voice checks. But you heed her advice and search for Minho on stage, eyes falling on someone back-facing you with a half-assed view of his back covered with a miserable layer of net.

"Someone’s stylist felt cheeky today," Laughing under your breath, Seungmin's sister gently nudges you as a response. Minho was fixing his earpiece when his eyes start wandering, and even in the bad lighting off the stage, he could still spot you.

He's waving like he hasn't seen you in months, though you just met him a few weeks ago when his CEO had given them an advanced Christmas weekend vacation.

“Okay, take a fifteen minute break! Can I get I*ZONE, THE BOYZ, Jessi to get ready?”

The members bow and thank the camera men and the director of the event, most of them waving to their guests standing around you. Minho looks to you and waves subtly, sweat sticking his brown hair to his forehead as his breathing calms.

Right now, Minho was doing nothing besides making snot-faces at the camera with that stupid inner-netting piece he’s got that exposes his back.

Sickening, but he knows it works in his favour.

“Everyone in places! We’re filming your fancams for this one too but keep your eyes on the main cameras!”

The members yell out scattered “yes”es and return to their positions, fingers fixing their fits and microphones. The music starts, and you decide you’ll probably never ever get sick of how the whole group is able to snap into professionalism. But of course, your eyes still naturally gravitate to Minho.

He told you over test that he had been given the chorus -- something that his CEO has never really considered. (Minho wasn’t a great vocal; he was more commendable in his dance techniques but he’ll never improve if he’s never given the chance, right?)

You suck your lips between your teeth when you notice his anxiety gets the better of him, and he messes up in the chorus choreography just as he sings “10분 뒤에 저 앞에서.”

He’s definitely going to get annoyed over this mistake later.

Changbin's sister cannot contain the scream that emits out from her when you are let into the Stray Kids’ dressing room. Jeongin rushes to his little brother, hoping to pull him into a headlock. One of the stylists was busy helping Minho remove his blazer belt when he notices you standing behind him in the mirror.

But before he can greet you, Seungmin rushes to your side along with his sister, who drags you away to look at some special edition Stray Kids merchandise sitting in the corner of the room. You shoot Minho a slightly apologetic look, allowing Seungmin's sister to pull you across the room to study the albums and photocards you would probably receive by the end of the year anyway.

Seungmin's sister gushes about the design of the albums, Christmas themed and all with a rather recent and unseen group photoshoot of the group. So it doesn't take long before she's completely occupied in staring at Chan's picture in the album, and Jisung takes the opportunity to strike up a conversation with you.

“Hey! I finally got to meet you properly, I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you well back when you visited with Yeonjun hyung.”

“Oh, no,” You place the album back to the table and turn to Jisung. “It’s fine. I hope the fruit basket was good.”

“It was great, actually. Chan made a fruit salad out of it,” Jisung shoves his hands into his pockets. Your eyes can’t help but glance around the room, and you catch Minho’s eyes flitting away from you and Jisung in the reflection of the mirror he’s staring at.

“So, how are the shots? Pretty cool, huh?”

Your eyes follow his hands that reach for the albums that are still sitting comfortably on the surface. “Yeah, of course. Was it shot in a pre-made studio or was the lounge already set up like that? Colors are pretty.”

“It was a lounge, actually. Downtown in Gimpo. They had a cafe nearby too, and the food’s great. I was wondering if you’d like to-”

"Yah," Throwing his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, Minho was now changed out into a loose, black tank top. Your eyes gravitate down to where his skin is usually covered, but Jisung's sly smirk at you forces you to roll your eyes away instead.

"Oh, yes, Lino hyung?" Jisung has the widest grin on his face as he happily pulls Minho into a hug, even resting his head on Minho's shoulder. It's a strange sight, seeing Jisung suck his lips between his teeth. Better yet, Minho had the most confused look on his face just seconds before he shoved Jisung off him.

“You’re an absolute disgrace,” Minho shakes his head and winces in disgust. “There are better ways to ask someone out, and the first step is to ask the right person out.”

#lee know #lee know scenarios #skz lee know scenarios #stray kids #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #skz lee minho #stray kids lee minho

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uchihanyan · 3 years

Text

ItaIzu / ItaSaku One-Shot

Ok, I think it’s done! I took some days to finish it, but I’m very satisfied with the results! I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ll post it on AO3 once I decide a good title, and I’ll let you know when I post there.

WARNING: This one-shot has depression themes, although some cuteness and happiness moments. So if you’re not in a good mood, please, save it for later!

-----

Itachi had probably just had the worst day of his life. He was down, depressed, and nothing could cheer him up. It wouldn't be a surprise if he ended up falling into depression. His heart hurt too much, and he felt that pain would never go away. Therefore, the man decided to go out from his parents' house for a bit, to get some air, walk and try to distract himself. He needed to get that sadness out of his heart, but at the same time, he couldn't forget what had happened. He didn't want to. A few months ago he thought that the other day had been the worst of his life, he would never imagine that this recent incident could happen. This was the worst day of his life. It was practically impossible for another incident to be worse than this one.

The Uchiha walked around Konoha, aimlessly, just to try to distract himself. He needed to calm down. It was then that, walking slowly beside the Konoha's playground, he saw a small girl, dirty, with messy brown hair and torn clothes, also looking down and sad, sitting on a swing. Children were one of Itachi's biggest weaknesses and, slowly and gently, he tried to approach her, greeting her. The girl, who had not felt his presence until the moment he spoke, however, soon got scared, getting up from the swing and running away, hiding behind a fence nearby.

"C'mon, you don't need to be afraid."

Itachi tried to approach her again, carefully, but the girl, like a skittish kitty, ran away again, this time completely disappearing from Itachi's vision. He sighed and, too tired to go looking for her, thinking she probably had gone to her parents' house, sat down on the swing. All the bad thoughts occupied his mind, and he kept trying to calm himself, taking a deep breath and looking up, letting some tears flow from his eyes. Itachi didn't like to cry in front of people, so that was the best opportunity to do that, in the middle of the night, when no one was nearby. After calming down, he went back to his parents' house, and slept there.

Some days later, after being called to the Hokage's office, which was currently Kakashi, Itachi commented on the little child in the playground.

"That was probably Yuki."

"Yuki?" Itachi asked.

"Yes. She is an orphaned child who lost her parents some time ago. Unfortunately, no one can get close to her."

"I noticed that..."

"Well, she lives alone, and Yuki doesn't allow anyone to enter her home."

"What, alone?! How old is she?!"

"Her parents died when she was about 4 years old, so she is probably 5. Iruka and I managed to get in there a few times and try to help her, but it's been a while. She usually goes to restaurants and convenience stores to buy obento and eat at home, but in general, it seems that her diet is not good at all. And well, being such a little child, she doesn't really know how to take care of herself. As you can see, her appearance is not the best."

"That is terrible..."

"Yes, but no one dares to approach her and force her to do anything, neither to take her to an orphanage. Even if people want to try to help her, they are very sorry for her and afraid to hurt her and make her sad and scared. "

"But she's just a child, she's too little to live by herself."

"I know, I know. Well, do you want to try it?"

"What?"

"Get close to her. Maybe it is a good opportunity for you to try to distract yourself a little from what happened on your last mission. Take some time off."

"I..."

Itachi was reluctant for a moment but ended up accepting it. Perhaps it would be better for him to take distance from the shinobi's life for a while. He needed to take care of himself, especially his mind.

"Right, I will do it."

"Perfect. I permit you to enter her house, just don't be too invasive. Well, knowing you, I know you'll be careful. Especially since it's a child we're talking about." Kakashi smiled under his mask at him.

And so Itachi did. He left the Hokage's office and, after going to his parents' house and telling his mom about his new "mission", he went to the child's home, which Kakashi had taught the location to. He approached it slowly, on tenterhooks, and, after taking a deep breath, knocked on the door. It took a while, but a small figure slowly opened the door, trying to hide behind it. As soon as she saw who it was, she instantly closed the door. Predicting a reaction like that, Itachi crouched down and knocked on the door again. The little girl opened it, looking up and surprised, as there was no one in her sight until she looked down and saw the man near her height. She was startled and before she could close the door again, his hand gripped it, preventing it from closing. Itachi was much stronger than she was, so no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move the door. Realizing that the little girl was getting more and more desperate, he tried to say something, to calm her down.

"I don't want to hurt you. On the contrary, I want to help you."

"No."

"Onii-chan is not going to do anything bad for you, trust me."

"Onii... chan?"

She knew that many people in Konoha used to try to help her, despite always hiding and trying to keep them away, so the girl already imagined the intentions of the Uchiha. So she ended up letting him into her house, feeling the gentleness in his voice.

"Excuse me."

He entered, removing his shoes at the entrance. He saw a slipper there, which was a little dusty but decided to put it on anyway. Getting inside the house, he saw the interior of it, getting shocked. It was dirty, dusty, messy, with cup noodle's cups and empty obento plastic trays around the room. He felt a tightness in his heart. How could anyone live in those conditions? Well, she was just a kid, so of course, she would not care about it, neither know how to clean and organize a house. Also, the girl was probably depressed for being alone and having lost her parents. Deep down, Itachi understood her. After the recent incident, if he had no one around, he would probably also go into depression and have a life similar to the girl's, failing to take care of himself, and living in a mess.

Looking closer at the girl, he realized that her condition was terrible. Her face was pale, her skin was dirty, and she had huge dark circles. Her hair probably hadn't been cut in months, neither brushed. He sighed, crouched again, and asked the girl.

"Have you had dinner today?"

She nodded and pointed to a cup of mini cup noodles, which was smaller than the normal size, empty and thrown on the floor. Itachi frowned, sighed again, and stood up.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

The girl, confused, agreed and waited for him behind the door, inside the house. Approximately half an hour later, he was back, with bags full of groceries. Itachi entered the house, removing his shoes and putting on that dusty slipper again, and went straight to the kitchen. First of all, he picked some cloths and cleaning products, cleaning the kitchen, the furniture in that room and the dishes. So, soon Itachi started cooking. The girl just watched him preparing the food, quiet in a corner, not knowing how to react or what to say.

It took about an hour, but soon the food was ready. He served dishes with gohan, fish, salad, and vegetables. He also filled a glass with orange juice, which he had just prepared there.

"Come here." He said gently to her, in his calm voice, smiling at her and raising a hand towards her. The girl, shy, approached him slowly. Itachi picked her up and sat her in a chair that was slightly taller than the others. Itachi had already eaten, so there were portions for the little girl only.

"You can eat, don't be afraid. I'm sure you're gonna like it."

The girl picked up a pair of chopsticks and seemed to have a hard time with them. She didn't know how to use it properly, and after a few attempts to use it correctly, she stuck the two chopsticks into the fish, holding them with her whole hand. Before she could take it to her mouth, Itachi let out a sigh and took the chopsticks from her hand.

"Here, I'll help you."

So Itachi fed the little child. She looked hungry, and she probably hadn't eaten such good, healthy food in a long time, probably weeks, or even months. She chewed and swallowed quickly, and in no time she ate everything.

After washing the dishes, Itachi took the girl to the living room. The couch was all dirty and dusty, so he sat on it and put the girl on his lap, looking at her.

"What's your name?"

"Y-Yuki..."

"Yuki-chan, huh. My name is Itachi."

"Itachi onii-chan..."

"That's right." He smiled at her. The girl, ashamed, tried to contain her smile.

"How old are you?"

The girl took a while to answer him. She had probably forgotten, not thinking about it in a long time. "F-five... I think."

"You think?"

The girl nodded, and Itachi sighed.

"Okay... Your house is very dirty, it is not healthy to be in the middle of this much dust and dirt. Come to sleep at my house today. Tomorrow we will be back and I will clean up here."

"Why?"

"Because... Well, it's important. As I said-"

"Why are you helping me?"

Itachi was interrupted by the kid and looked at her as she asked it. "You're just a little child. It is not the right thing to do leaving you in this condition." He stood up with her in his arms. "Come on. I'll lend you a shirt for you to wear as pajamas. Tomorrow I'll wash your clothes too." He saw some holes and stains in the clothes she was wearing. "Well... Maybe buy you some new ones."

The girl still didn't quite know how to react. She had already been helped by a few people - well, forced to be helped - but it was the first time that anyone had done all of that for her by saying only a few words before acting. Without the courage to refuse, the girl just put her arms around Itachi's neck and was carried to a small apartment near the residential area of Konoha. The first thing Itachi did was shower the girl, asking her permission first. Being so young, and without her parents around for such a long time, she probably didn't know how to shower alone. He washed her hair with shampoo about 3 times before applying the conditioner and combing it. It was tangled and the man had a lot of difficulties, but in the end, he succeeded, being very careful not to hurt her. So, after the shower, instead of going to the ofuro, he decided to dry her and put on one of his shirts, which was big enough to cover her up to just below her knees. He dried her hair and put her to sleep in his bed. It didn't take long before she fell asleep. Itachi, lying on his side next to the little child, watched her. It was then that he remembered the incident of a few days ago. Kakashi was right. Itachi was so busy taking care of the girl that he had completely forgotten what happened. He didn't want to forget, he couldn't forget. But for a few hours, he seemed to be a little less depressed and sad. He put one of his arms over the little girl's body, hugging her, and also fell asleep, tired.

The next morning, Itachi woke up before Yuki. She seemed to be very tired, sleeping soundly, so he got up slowly from the bed, being careful not to wake her, and after his morning hygiene routine, he went to the kitchen, to do the breakfast. Itachi liked a simple, traditional meal, so he made some onigiris and miso. He covered her meal with wrapping paper and ate his. While eating, Itachi remained depressed, unable to stop thinking about that incident. How could he be so careless? One small flaw was enough to change his life completely. However, the man believed that nothing happens by chance. Perhaps if that had never happened, the child would never have been saved, and only God knows what kind of bad things could have happened to her. Still, depression took over Itachi. The pain was great, hard to overcome. He tried to forget about those terrible thoughts, but nothing seemed to be able to distract him, until, sometime later, he heard the door of his room opening, and saw the little girl running to the bathroom. Itachi figured that maybe she wanted badly to use it, so he didn't bother until he heard vomiting noises coming from the bathroom. Startled, he went to her and helped her, holding her long hair.

"Don't worry, you're probably like this for having such a bad diet all this time." After she finished, he helped her rinse her mouth and brush her teeth with a new toothbrush he had, which was still in the packaging. "Come on, I made miso, it will be good for your stomach."

Itachi sat her on one of the chairs and gave her the miso. She didn't need chopsticks this time, so she managed to drink it on her own, trembling a little bit as she was weak for just had vomiting.

"Before we go back to your home, we better go to the hospital. I know a great doctor who will take care of you." He told the girl, who didn't seem to like the idea. "You don't have to be afraid, everything will be fine." He assured her.

Before they went to the hospital, Itachi stopped by a small thrift store nearby, buying a new outfit for the girl to wear. He bought a T-shirt with a patterned kitten on it and pants that were a little loose but comfortable and that would fit her. Then, after dressing her in her new clothes, they arrived at the hospital, and the receptionist soon recognized the child.

"Isn't that... that orphan girl who's always alone?" She asked.

"Yes... She is."

"Good! Someone is finally taking care of her! Thank God." The woman looked very relieved and happy. "I imagine her health is terrible."

"Yes, that's why I brought her here. Is Sakura here today?"

"She is. I will call her, just a moment."

After going to Sakura's office, the receptionist returned to them, telling him that he could meet the kunoichi right away.

"Come in!" Said Sakura from her room.

Itachi then entered the place with Yuki in his arms.

"Finally..." She said. "I'm glad you're taking care of her."

"Well, let's say it's under Kakashi-san's orders."

"Still... You accepted it. Thank you." Sakura said with a smile on her face. "She must be in very bad health, isn't she? Put her on the bed, so I can examine her."

And so did Itachi. After asking permission for the child, he removed her shirt, allowing Sakura to examine her better. Running her hands over her small body, making the girl cringe a little, frightened, she used some of her chakra to examine the inside of her.

"Poor thing, so thin..." Said Sakura. "She is not in a critical condition, but she is very weak, and her stomach is injured."

"That's what I thought. She threw up this morning, and I imagine it wasn't the first time. She also had pain while peeing and had trouble defecating."

"It's just the obvious... I always felt a lot of frustration that no one was helping her. Of course, I can't say much, because I couldn't do it either... But even so... It's so cruel."

"I... didn't know about her, until a few days ago, when I first met her in the playground. It was then that, commenting on her, Kakashi explained to me about her. And then he decided that I should help her. "

"Great. At least finally someone is acting." Sakura took her stethoscope and touched the child's chest. "I know it's a little cold, but hold on. It's just for a little while. Now take a deep breath." Yuki obeyed Sakura. "Great. Again. And again. Again. Right..." Then she repeated it, with the stethoscope against the little girl's back.

"Well?"

"Her heart is a little weak, but nothing that worries me that much. But it surprises me that she is still alive, you know."

After the analysis, Sakura measured the girl's pressure, which was very low. Then, she put the back of her hands on the child's forehead, to feel her temperature. That feeling of the woman's hands on her forehead made Yuki feel something in her heart. Those hands...

"Mommy..."

"What?" Sakura asked.

"It... it feels like... mommy's hands..." Yuki's voice clearly expressed her pain. The girl held Sakura's hands, shaking.

"Oh, dear..." Sakura patted the child's head. "I'm sorry. But you'll be fine, I promise." She smiled.

Sakura examined Yuki for a while, concluding that the girl had stomach damage, urinary tract infection, constipation, anemia, malnutrition, dehydration, some breathing problems due to the dusty house, among other problems. Not to mention the mental problems she had probably developed, like depression. However, it was nothing that could not be healed. Hearing this, Itachi, despite being worried, felt a little more relieved.

"I'm going to order some more tests, like blood, urine, feces, and MRI scan. I'll also ask that you feed her well, please. And a lot of water. Her life is in your hands."

Upon hearing that last sentence, Itachi felt pressured. The last time someone's life was in his hands, Itachi had failed. Failed. He had failed. Sakura's words echoed on his mind. But he needed to work hard, take care of the child until he decided what to do with her. Take her up for adoption, give to a known couple, or take care of her himself. It was a difficult choice, but one he needed to make. In a way, that was his mission.

"You can leave it to me."

Sakura smiled at Itachi, and then at the girl. "You are in good hands." She patted her head once more. "Here, this is a small manual for you to help her do the tests I ordered. Bring them in three days, preferably in the morning. Also, she will need these medicines. This one and this ointment are to treat her urinary tract infection. Not treating it may cause a much more serious illness. Don't forget about giving her a lot of water."

"Right..." That was going to cost money. A lot of money. But it was a sacrifice that Itachi was willing to make. For the sake of an abandoned and frightened child. And also for his mind.

"B-besides... If you need to..." Sakura handed Itachi a paper with something written on it. "This is my personal number. You can call me if you need anything."

"Thank you. I will."

And so Itachi took care of the girl for a few more days. As required by Sakura, he bought the necessary medicines, gave them to the child, and helped the girl to do the exams. The day before he was supposed to go back to the hospital, Itachi decided that he would cut Yuki's hair, with his own abilities. He was used to cutting his own hair, so it wasn't a hard job to do. He cut a fringe that reached up to her eyebrows, and cut a few centimeters of her hair, removing the damaged ends. Her hair was considerably shorter, but it was still long. As promised, Itachi also cleaned Yuki's house and washed her clothes. It took him all day to clean up the place. He cleaned everything himself, without asking for any help for the poor child, who was weak and sick. At certain times he lost himself in his depressive thoughts, but soon the girl appeared near him, perhaps feeling his sadness, and made him smile at her, cheering her up. Forcing himself to cheer himself up for the girl took his sadness away momentarily. At one point, Itachi opened the door to her parents' room a little, but figured he shouldn't go in there without her permission, so he just left it for another day.

In the living room, there was a small memorial for her parents, with a photo of them and an incense. Itachi lit it, and said a prayer for them, praying that they would be in a better place, asking for permission so that he could take care of the girl, and saying that he would do his best to give her a good life.

On the third day, Itachi took the exams required by Sakura. Such samples needed to be the first samples of the day, so Itachi went to the hospital very early, next to Yuki. After handing them over, she took some blood samples from her. She had some hard work since Yuki wasn't used to it, but in the end, everything went well.

"It will take a few days for all the exams to be ready, but I'll let you know."

Yuki also did the MRI exam, so Sakura would be sure about how the inside of the girl's body was. They stayed in the next room, where the computers were so that she could see the exam in real-time. It was very quiet and a little uncomfortable. Itachi had known Sakura for a while, as she was a member of his brother's team. Although Sasuke didn't like her very much, they often met, together with Naruto, for missions, training, and get-togethers. Sometimes the three of them went to Sasuke's house, who lived with his parents, and sometimes Itachi was there, meeting Sakura. Both of them had never spoken much, so they weren't that close to each other. Still, they considered themselves friends.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"If you follow what I asked you to do, she sure will."

Another moment of silence.

"Where is she sleeping?"

"In the first few days, I took her to my apartment. Her house was all dirty and impossible to live in. But yesterday I cleaned it, and we slept there. I will spend a few days there until she is better, and I decide what to do with her.

"I see... I hope she goes to a good family."

"Me too..."

The exam was over, and Sakura concluded that, despite the damage to her organs due to the bad life the child was leading, she could still be healed, if he took good care of her. Sakura gave him more instructions than what to do, like what kind of food to give her and some medicine.

"This is her home address. And well, this is mine... If there's something urgent about her exams... just drop by."

"Right..." Sakura accepted the paper with the information that Itachi gave her.

A couple of days passed and Itachi was doing his best to take care of the child, distracting himself as much as possible. One day, at Yuki's house, while Itachi sat on the sofa in the living room with her, talking about good things, he heard someone knocking on the front door. Itachi noticed that soon the child got scared, but he stroked her hair, smiling at her.

"I'll be right back."

Itachi got up and carefully opened the door, facing his mother, who was carrying some bags.

"Mom..."

"I came to visit you. How are things going? How are you?"

"Fine, I think." He looked down, with a sad look. "She is doing better, much better than the first day I met her."

"I see, that's great." She stroked her son's head and entered, putting on slippers that Itachi offered her. "Did you clean up the house?" He nodded his head. "You did a great job, my son. And where is she?" Mikoto asked as she gave the bags to Itachi.

"She... should be in the living room."

"Well, but she isn't. Oops, no, wait a minute." The woman noticed the top of a small head behind the sofa, slowly approaching and appearing in surprise beside her. "Found her!"

Yuki squeaked, startled, and ran to the other side of the couch, hiding again. Mikoto once more went to her, appearing in surprise and scaring the child, who, after screaming again, ran to Itachi, hiding behind him, grabbing his legs.

"You don't have to be afraid." Itachi said, with some difficulty in walking, since his legs were being grabbed by the child, and, after putting the bags on the dinner table, he picked her up on his lap. "She is my mother. See? We are very much alike."

Yuki's gaze shifted from Itachi to Mikoto, and she looked at him again, repeating the act a few times. The woman approached them, smiling. "Exactly!"

Embarrassed, Yuki buried her face in Itachi's chest, making him giggle, stroking her hair.

"She looks very good for someone who has been alone all this time in this house."

"She still has some health problems, but we are taking care of it. And yes, she is much better."

"Thanks to you, Itachi-kun." Mikoto smiled at Itachi. "And you look pretty good, too."

"Yeah..." He looked down. "I think so."

"Don't worry, everything will be fine. Come on, I want to cook for you today."

"And what do you plan to cook?"

"Hm... Hot pot! I know you like it, and I hope it will cheer you both up a little more. Especially you, Itachi-kun."

"Thanks, Mom..."

She smiled at him and started cooking. Mikoto refused Itachi's help, saying that she just wanted to please them. So Itachi and Yuki waited patiently at the dinner table until she finished cutting all the vegetables and organizing them, next to the meats, bringing the pot with a hot broth to the table. "Watch out, it's sooooo hot!" She told the child.

"And what are Sasuke and Father going to eat today?"

"Sasuke is on a mission with Naruto, and your father is going to spend the night at the police station."

"I see..."

"Itachi-kun, your voice is very sad. I want you to cheer up!"

"I-I..."

"Come on, cheer up! Let's eat! Itadakimasu!"

"I-itadakimasu ..."

Itachi repeated his mother's words, and with his chopsticks, he put some vegetables and meat into the pot. When the food was cooked enough to eat, Itachi took some, blew it, and brought it into Yuki's mouth.

"Why, doesn't she know how to eat alone?"

"She has some difficulty using chopsticks. Not to mention it's too hot..."

"She needs to learn how to use it by herself, Itachi-kun. Put it on this little plate, so she can practice and eat alone."

"R-right ..." And so he did. "Let it cool before eating, it is very hot."

Yuki just nodded and, while the others ate, she waited impatiently for her food to cool down, until she decided to try to catch it with the chopsticks, the way Itachi had taught her all these days. She had a hard time and dropped it a few times, but finally managed to put it in her mouth.

"That's right! Congratulations, my dear!" Mikoto encouraged her to eat alone, praising her. Yuki smiled sheepishly at the woman and continued trying to eat alone, to be praised more and more.

With those two people at her home, eating together, Yuki felt happier and more excited. She felt loved and comfortable, even though she was still shy. Itachi, however, was still depressed. Despite being with his beloved mother, who did everything to cheer him up, and the orphaned child he was taking care of at the time, he was still not completely happy. Itachi could not say whether he had really gone into depression, but he would try his best to prevent this from happening. It was difficult to avoid thinking about what happened a few days ago. He still felt like punching his fists against the wall until they bled, easing his anger at himself, or lying in bed and not getting up there for hours, just doing nothing, or sleeping. This job that Kakashi gave Itachi was really doing him good. Taking care of an abandoned child prevented him from falling under any temptation.

After finishing dinner, Itachi helped Mikoto do the dishes, and he took her to the living room, where the three sat, Yuki sitting on Itachi's lap. The Uchiha's kindness soon made the child feel comfortable enough to trust and approach him. While they were talking, and Itachi was telling about how those days were going with Yuki, talking about her, there was again a knock at the front door. Itachi went to answer it, and he was surprised by who was there.

"Ah, did I come at a bad time?" Sakura asked when she noticed that there was a pair of shoes beside Itachi's and Yuki's.

"No, not at all. My mother came to visit us today. Please come in."

Sakura nodded and went into the house, putting on a pair of slippers that were there.

"Good night." She greeted Mikoto.

"Oh, Sakura-chan, good night! What a pleasure to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Is there something wrong with Yuki in any case?" Itachi, distressed, asked.

"No, not at all. I just... came to see how you two are. But it looks like everything is fine, that's great!"

Feeling a certain tension in the air coming from Sakura, Mikoto got up and went towards the door.

"Well, it was nice to spend some time here. See you, Yuki-chan!" She waved at Yuki, who waved back, shyly.

"A-already?" Itachi asked.

Mikoto approached Itachi's ear and whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It could be a good opportunity for you, my son." She walked away and said goodbye to Sakura. "Until later!"

Without allowing Itachi to refuse, she soon put on her shoes and left the house, leaving Sakura and Itachi speechless. They looked at each other, and Sakura blushed. "T-this way..." Itachi, shyly, led Sakura to the sofa, where Yuki was, picking up the child and sitting with her on her lap.

"I-I see that she is fine, that's good! It looks like the treatment is working." Sakura stroked Yuki's hair.

"Y-yes, she is. Thank you for helping us."

"No need to thank me. It's just my job. Besides... What kind of person would I be if I didn't help a child with so many needs? In fact, I regret not taking any action before, but..."

"All that matters is that you are taking action now." Itachi interrupted, looking at her.

"Y-yes... You're right."

The silence prevailed for a few moments, until Itachi said something.

"Would you... like some tea? I can make it for us."

"I-if it's not too much trouble, I'll take it."

"Okay. I'm just going to put Yuki to bed then." He said to Sakura, realizing that the child was sleepy, yawning, and rubbing her eyes.

After taking Yuki to sleep, Itachi went to the kitchen, where Sakura had sat, in front of the dinner table, and started making hot tea for them. As soon as it was ready, he brought it to her and sat across from her.

"So..."

"Mm?"

"I-I'm glad Yuki is fine." Sakura tried to make conversation, blushed, while she drank her tea.

"Yes, she is." Itachi took a sip of his tea. "Do you... have any specific subject you want to talk about?

"W-what?" She was surprised.

"Well ... I think if you just wanted to see how she's doing, maybe you'd wait for me to take her to the hospital again, wouldn't you? To see the tests."

"Ah, that... Y-yes... That's true."

"So?" Itachi didn't want to be rude, but he was curious.

"I just... wanted to get closer. See how she's doing, I was worried. And... I wanted to get closer to you too."

"T-to me?"

"Y-yes. Y, you know! We have known each other for so many years, I often go to your parents' house, and... we barely speak to each other."

"Ah, I see."

"I-it's not like ... I wanted to try something with you"

"Try something?"

"I-I mean... I... Y-you know! It's not like... I wanted to approach you with ulterior motives. Even though maybe, just maybe, I feel something for you. I'm sorry! I know you're engaged, but... A-anyway- "

"You feel?"

"T-that's not what I want to talk about now! Besides... recently you've looked so... different."

"And why do you think that?" Itachi tried to avoid getting into the romantic subject that Sakura said.

"You... look so sad, you know. So down. I have no idea what happened, but if you need anything, I'm here for you." Sakura put her teacup on the table and looked into his eyes. "You were always so kind and cheerful... I got worried about you."

"Oh, I..."

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it! But if you need to... I'm here."

Itachi took a deep breath and, after gathering courage, said.

"Come here for a moment."

Itachi got up and took Sakura into the living room, sitting on the couch. After a few seconds, after Sakura sat down next to him, Itachi started to speak.

"Do you... remember Izumi?"

"Izumi? Yes, she is your fiancee, isn't she?"

"..." He looked down and just nodded. "Well, some incidents have happened recently."

"And do you want to talk about it?"

Itachi nodded. "Well... The first thing that happened was that... well, you know that I have an incurable disease, right?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry we didn't find out what it is, and its cure. But you're getting the treatment, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you for helping me, by the way. But... A few months ago, I discovered that... because of this disease, I am infertile. It ended up making me very sad."

"Oh, Itachi, I'm so sorry!" She rested a hand on Itachi's shoulder for a few seconds. "And how did you find that out? I mean, I guess you did the tests, but... Why did you suspect that?"

"Well, even though we're engaged, not married, Izumi and I really wanted to have a child. Very much. So we... tried. Several times. Days and nights, for weeks."

"A, ah..." Sakura blushed when she heard Itachi talk about sexual matters.

"I don't even care that much about sex, you know? It doesn't matter to me whether I do it or not. Do you think I'm weird?"

"N, no, of course not! You... probably are what they call asexual, aren't you?"

"Maybe, I don't know. Anyway, even though I don't really care about it, I love Izumi, and we tried very hard. I think we spent most of the day trying, from all possible positions, to maybe help with fertilization. And... it didn't happen at all."

-----

After getting out of bed that morning, Itachi went to his kitchen, greeting his fiancé, kissing her on the cheek.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Itachi-kun. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes... But I'm still a little tired."

Izumi laughed sheepishly.

"And... are you feeling anything?"

"No... But let's wait a few more days! It's not like I'll feel like I'm pregnant after a night of... you know what... Who knows...!"

"Izumi... Don't you think it's strange?" Itachi said, sitting on the chair next to her.

"I don't think so. Many couples take years to finally have children, it must be normal."

"But... we're trying so hard. And yet..."

"Don't worry, everything will be fine!" Gently, Izumi tried to cheer Itachi up, smiling at him.

"I hope so..." He put one of his hands over Izumi's hand, looking at his engagement rings and caressing her hand, smiling sadly.

"Don't be like that..."

"Don't you think I should do the test? You know, just to be sure."

"Maybe, I think it would be a good thing."

"Yes..." Itachi stopped for a few seconds and then blushed. "Uh, but to do that... I need to..." He looked away.

"If you need to, I'll help you." She smiled looking at Itachi, making him even more ashamed, and Izumi laughed.

A few days later, Itachi and Izumi met in the clinic room, waiting for the result to be announced by the doctor, who sat across from them.

"Itachi-san..." The doctor looked at the man. "Izumi-san..." He looked at the woman. Itachi was already preparing for the worst, feeling his heart pounding. "From my tone of voice, I imagine you already have a feeling about the results." Izumi held tightly the hand of her fiancé, who was apprehensive. "I'm very sorry."

"B-but why is that, sensei? What's the problem with us?" Izumi asked.

"Well... it's not you, Izumi-san." He looked at the Uchiha. "You know how serious your illness is, don't you?" Itachi nodded. "Well... It turns out that it affected your fertility too. The chances of you both having a child are... very low, almost nil, no matter how hard you try."

Although he already expected such a result, Itachi got shocked. His hands were shaking, and he squeezed Izumi's hand tightly, looking down, frowning.

"Well, but as you may know, there are always alternatives! You can adopt, contact a surrogate mother, or even try artificial insemination! You-"

Itachi got up from his chair, not sure how to react.

"Itachi-kun..." Izumi looked sad and concerned for him.

"Thanks for the help, sensei." Itachi bowed slightly, and opened the door of the room, leaving. Izumi quickly thanked the doctor, and went after him.

"Itachi-kun, wait!"

Itachi ignored Izumi's words and just walked towards his apartment, crestfallen. When he got there, he sat on his couch, and rested his head in his hands. "Why...?"

"Itachi-kun..." Izumi sat down next to him, hugging him by placing one of her arms behind Itachi's back. "You didn't even want to hear what the sensei had to say... Why don't we try the other alternatives?"

"No."

"No?"

"...Sorry, Izumi. I... need some time to think, okay?"

"Sure... As long as you need, my love."

After a few minutes of silence, Itachi got up from the couch.

"I'm going to take a bath." He said as he headed for the bathroom.

"Sure... Do you want me to make you some tea?" Izumi replied, while watching Itachi entering there and removing his shirt.

"No."

"Then-"

"Izumi."

"What?"

"I... I think you should go back to your own home now. I need some time."

"I see... Get better soon, Itachi-kun." Izumi walked away and left Itachi's apartment.

-----

"I'm sorry... it must have been terrible." Sakura said to Itachi after hearing what he had to say. "But... Why don't you try to adopt? Look at that perfect opportunity, Yuki-"

"I'm not done."

"?" Sakura was surprised.

-----

In Itachi's apartment, the Uchihas were preparing for a new mission. Itachi wore his green jacket and tied his forehead protector, while Izumi waited for him, sitting on the bed.

"Are you sure you want to go with me?"

"Of course! Why shouldn't I go?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Come on. I know I'm not a Jounin yet, like you." Izumi got up from the bed and flexed her arm, pretending to show her muscles on her thin and delicate arm for him. "But I'm as strong as you are!"

Itachi chuckled at her and, wrapping her in his arms, kissed her on the lips. "Yes, you are." He smiled. "I'm just... worried, you know."

"Don't worry! I know you're going protect me if anything happens!"

"Izumi..." He looked into her eyes. "Right."

"And when we get back, we're going to the orphanage! I'm looking forward to adopting a child with you."

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"Of course! Imagine how cute our child is going to be, watching us get married!"

"Hahah, that's true." Itachi kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Itachi-kun."

After kissing her again, Itachi left his room and went to the entrance door, putting on his shoes. "I need to stop by my parents' house first. Are you coming?"

"Of course!"

So, Itachi and Izumi went to Itachi's parents' house, to talk about the mission that they were both about to go.

"Are you prepared?" Asked Fugaku.

"Yes, father."

"You know how important and dangerous it is, don't you?"

"Yes, I am aware of that." Itachi nodded.

"These spies you are going to deal with are very skilled, Itachi. Take care. You too, Izumi."

"Got it!"

"So... We're going now."

"Until later!" Izumi said, excited as always.

"Be careful." Said Mikoto, next to Fugaku.

After the couple arrived in the Konoha forest, they stealthily entered it. Until they both felt the presence of the spies.

"Stay behind me!"

"I know how to take care of myself!"

Itachi threw kunais towards one of the spies that had appeared, and Izumi used her Katon. More and more spies appeared. Dozens of them surrounded them, but they couldn't keep up with the couple. Skillfully, they defeated one by one, taking light damage, until one of the spies lured Itachi a few feet away from Izumi. Itachi, falling into the trap, saw in slow motion another spy, who hid their presence until then, approaching behind Izumi with a sword. Desperate, he turned to her, extending his hand towards her.

"Damn it! Get there on time!"

But it was too late. Before Izumi could defend herself, the sword went through her body through her back. Itachi, being overwhelmed by his anger and frustration, defeated, with his blood boiling with hatred, the spy who had attracted him, immediately defeating the one who had hurt his fiancé after it.

"Izumi!" She fell into his arms. "Hang in there! Let's go to the hospital, they'll take care of you-"

"Itachi-kun." Izumi's weak voice called him, as she placed her delicate hand on his face. "Thank you."

"Wait, Izumi! Hold on!" His wide eyes looked at her as she smiled gently with blood dripping from her mouth. Izumi closed her eyes, and Itachi, desperate, ran back to Konoha with his fiancé in his arms. He had soon arrived at the hospital, begging them to see her.

Izumi was immediately taken to the operating room by Tsunade, who coincidentally was there, despite being no longer Hokage, and her assistants, including Shizune. Itachi, with his hands on his face, shook his legs, restless and impatient, sitting on the bench next to the operating room. Hours later, Tsunade left, and went to Itachi, with a serious look, sitting next to him. Itachi didn't have the courage to say anything, and he waited for the doctor's words.

"Itachi..." She looked back at him. "I'm sorry, we did everything we could. But the wound was too deep. She probably couldn't be saved even a few seconds after being injured."

Itachi's eyes widened in disbelief. He didn't know how to react. He couldn't believe it.

"We should bury her tomorrow." Tsunade went straight with her words, and put her hand on his shoulder.

Itachi still couldn't say anything. He just nodded and left the hospital, going straight to his parents' house. As soon as he arrived, Mikoto answered the door, welcoming him.

"Hey! Where's Izumi-chan?"

Still speechless, Itachi hugged his mother, finally letting his tears of pain and frustration flow.

"I failed." His faltering voice came out of his throat. "I failed."

"Itachi-kun..." She returned the hug, and soon Fugaku went to them, without saying anything. "Come, let's put on some comfortable clothes.

Mikoto took Itachi to his old room, helping him to change clothes, removing that Jounin outfit, and putting on clothes he used to wear daily.

She sat with him on his futon, leaning their back against the wall, hugging him with one of her arms, caressing his shoulder.

"How was the mission?" Her father asked.

After a few seconds of silence, he finally answered. "The spies... were all successfully defeated. But there are probably more of them."

Fugaku approached Itachi, crouching in front of him and resting his hands on his son's shoulders. "So don't let Izumi's death be in vain." Fugaku's harsh words hit Itachi's heart, who finally realized what had happened. Fugaku left Itachi's room, hearing his son's loud and desperate cry. It wasn't like Fugaku didn't care about him, he just wasn't good at expressing his feelings. But deep down, he felt that pain for his beloved son.

Itachi cried himself to sleep. Mikoto gently covered his son on the futon, and left him there, alone, so she could cook the dinner.

"I'm back." A voice came from the entrance's door.

"Welcome back, son." Mikoto greeted Sasuke, who was entering the kitchen. "How was your mission?"

"It would've been successful if Naruto didn't overdo everything he does. At least Sakura was there to heal him."

Mikoto chuckled. "You guys get along so well."

"Not even a little." Sasuke sat at the dinner table. "Has my brother returned from the mission yet?"

"Yes... He's in his room. He... He's not doing very well. Izumi-chan passed away during the mission. Be kind to him."

"Nii-san..."

After Itachi woke up, feeling a little lighter, from crying, he got up and went to the kitchen, sitting at the dinner table, without saying a word. Nobody had the courage to say anything to the poor man. Dinner that night was silent.

After the meal, Itachi got up slowly, and when he was on his way to his room, he was called by his mother.

"Why don't you go for a walk? You need to calm down a little and get distracted."

"Sure... I will." With his faltering voice, Itachi answered Mikoto, obeying her and heading towards the entrance door.

-----

"And that's when... I found Yuki. Walking around to try to calm down and distract myself, I saw her at the playground. She was alone, and when she saw me, she was skittish. But then, some days later, when I commented on her with Kakashi, he told me to try to get close to her and take care of her. He said it would be good for me, that I should take a vacation from the missions, and that it would distract me a little."

"Itachi... I... I'm sorry." Sakura, with some tears streaming from her eyes, said. "I didn't know about that..."

"It's okay. I didn't say anything to anyone. Only Uchihas and people close to her were at her funeral. I imagine that few people know what happened."

After hearing Itachi's words, Sakura hugged him warmly. For long, silent seconds, they stood there, holding each other, until they finally got apart.

"Thanks."

"Can I... say something?"

"Of course."

"You... Don't you think it's the perfect opportunity to adopt Yuki?"

"What?"

"It may be a little sudden, but... Well, you two are alone. Yuki lost her parents and has no one but you. You... lost Izumi recently. Besides, you want to have children, but you're sterile. Perhaps it would be the realization not only of your dream, but also Yuki's, and even Izumi's." Sakura said, unable to meet Itachi's eyes. "I don't think Izumi would like to see you sad and depressed like that."

"I..." Itachi, looking down, thought about what Sakura had said. She was probably right, but it was a very sudden decision to make. At the same time, he felt that perhaps that was the right thing to do. "You're right... Just... give me some time to think."

"I know you are going to make the right decision."

Sakura stood up and when she was about to say goodbye to Itachi, he looked at her and said.

"Don't you want to sleep here tonight?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's already late, and... Well, I can sleep in the same bed as Yuki. There is a futon in her room that I washed recently. I can put it in the living room, if you prefer. Well, it's up to you." Itachi felt lonely, and needed another company.

"But of course. I just don't have any pajamas to sleep in."

"I'll lend it to you. I brought some of my clothes so I could spend a few days here."

"Right, thank you."

And so, Sakura spent the night at Yuki's house. She decided to sleep in the same room as them, giving all the support that Itachi needed. They talked a little more before getting asleep, in a low voice, so as not to wake Yuki up.

The next morning, Sakura had woken up before Itachi. She was used to getting up early due to her work. As it was Saturday, she didn't have to go to the hospital, but still, her biological clock made her wake up very early. She got up carefully, so as not to wake them both, and prepared breakfast for her.

A few minutes later, Itachi left the room and went to the kitchen, curious.

"Oh, good morning. Did I wake you up?"

"Yes... But that's no problem." He approached Sakura.

"I... I'm making breakfast for us. Have a seat, please."

Itachi obeyed her and sat down in front of the dinner table. As soon as it was done, Sakura put a cup of tea in front of Itachi, and toast with butter and jam.

"Thanks." He said in a low tone.

Sakura sat next to him, with her breakfast, and started eating. It was a long and quiet meal, until Itachi finished. He was going to get up to wash the dishes, but was stopped by Sakura.

"Let me wash it."

"Right, thank you." He went back to his seat.

Sometime later, it was Yuki's turn to wake up. She was still sleepy, but feeling the smell of the food, she went straight to the kitchen. Sakura prepared hot chocolate and a slice of toast with butter for the child, who ate slowly. After she finished her meal, Itachi called her to her room, to talk about something.

"What happened, onii-chan?"

"Yuki-chan, do you... want a family?"

"Family?"

"You shouldn't be living alone, you know. You shouldn't be alone. You need company."

"Do you mean... an orphanage?"

"?" Itachi looked at her with concern.

"I hear a lot of people talking about this. That I should go to an orphanage." Yuki, sadly, looked down. "But I don't want to!" She looked at Itachi.

The Uchiha put a hand on her head, stroking it. "I know that, dear. It would be very sad, wouldn't it?" He got up from the bed and crouched down to be closer to her, resting one hand on her leg and the other on her head. "But... I didn't mean it."

"?"

Itachi gathered courage, and finally managed to speak to her. "You got a little bit more used to me, didn't you? Well..." He paused briefly. "Onii-chan is very alone, you know? I... I lost a very important person to me recently." He paused again. "Don't you think we would be a great company for each other?" He asked the child, looking deep into her eyes.

"D, do you mean..."

"Well, only if you want to."

Yuki's eyes filled with tears, and her heart beat faster. Yuki was incredulous, but happy at the same time. She nodded, and Itachi smiled kindly at her. The child hugged him, and Itachi returned the hug, stroking the back of her head.

Sakura, listening to everything outside the room, in front of the door, was happy for them. She was happy that Itachi accepted her suggestion. That was definitely the right thing to do. Itachi would no longer be alone and could cure his depression by taking care of a needy child, and Yuki would finally have a family again, and would no longer be an orphaned and abandoned child. At the same time, her heart ached, as she had feelings for the Uchiha. But he had just lost his fiancé, it was not the right time to try to approach him with such intentions. She should wait a while, maybe weeks, or months. One day she would finally be able to tell clearly about her feelings, and who knows, they would finally be together.

-----

Months later, Itachi, Sakura and Yuki went together to visit Izumi at the cemetery, bringing her one of her favorite foods as an offering: Dango. Itachi was no longer suffering from depression, and Yuki, despite not being fully healed, was much better, looking better and happier. Itachi eventually moved into Yuki's house, and, with the child's permission, finally cleaned her parents' room, donating the clothes of the deceased and using it as his room. He often encouraged her to say prayers for her parents at the memorial in the living room. Sakura had confessed her feelings more clearly to Itachi, but the man, still hurt by the loss, told Sakura to wait a while longer. However, he did not reject her love, and said that in the future, they could go on a date. Mikoto, Fugaku and Sasuke often visited Itachi in his new home, and had meals together. Sakura also used to visit them, to see how Yuki was doing, and to get closer to Itachi. Despite having suffered so much in such a short time, Itachi and Yuki overcame their losses and pain together, helping each other.

#itasaku #itaizu #fanfic #mine #otp #uchiha itachi #uchiha izumi #haruno sakura #one-shot #non-mass AU

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omniswords · 4 years

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 9

pictured: me crawling out of the rubble after yet another set of wisdom tooth extractions

STILL ALIVE, SOMEHOW

anyway, enjoy this update! things have been a bit slow going between this and another project that i haven't started posting yet (along with a brainworm for a different fandom entirely orz), but i'm committed to seeing these stories to the end, don't worry 💙🎶💖

she’s… gone? CBG is gone?

wait hold up, we’re going on a pre-other-job adventure. if you could even call it an adventure.

No, it’s no mistake. Marinette’s not the one standing at the counter this morning. In fact—judging from how much he can see from peering through the window in a totally-not-creepy way—she’s nowhere to be found. Mr. Dupain is there, as faithful to the shop as his apron and his hands are covered in flour. But this time it’s Mrs. Cheng at the register, kissing the top of her husband’s head when he bends it to her and inviting Luka in with a single gesture when she meets his eyes.

Well, now he has to go in.

He tries with every fiber in him to mask his disappointment while he locks up his bike and slips into the bakery-patisserie, and he hangs by the door until she’s finished with a customer and beckons him closer. “Good morning, Luka!” she chirps, and it’s in that moment that he sees all the traces of her daughter in her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Can I get you the usual?”

Luka gives her a mute smile and a nod, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it has.” Three weeks? Has it really been three weeks? “I heard you went out of the country? How was it?”

“It was nice,” Mrs. Cheng says with her usual warm smile. She’s already busy with a small pastry box and a pair of metal tongs. “Just what I needed for a while, but only for a while. You always have to come back home, after all.”

He nods, despite the fact that his home could be… literally anywhere. Could go literally anywhere. Maybe it’s for that reason alone that he’s had the distinct feeling that home is made up of people and not places.

Mrs. Cheng slides the box toward him, trades it for his card, but she doesn’t let him go just yet. She disappears into the back, and returns with a thick paper cup cradled in both hands, its contents so piping hot that there’s steam rising from the little hole in the lid. “You look like you could use a good cup of tea,” she says, kind as ever—and then, as he takes out his card once more, “It’s on the house, chou. Your constant patronage is payment enough.”

“Wow, that’s…” Luka’s speechless for a moment. “That’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

She smiles at him, and he didn’t really realize how much he’s missed seeing it until now. Maybe it’s not so bad that she came back. (Of course it’s not so bad; what is he thinking?) “The leaves are fresh,” is all she says. Probably because she doesn’t think it’s something she needs to be thanked for. “Think of it as a souvenir.”

Before Luka lets himself out, he stops by the door and tosses a glance back. “Hey, Mrs. Cheng?”

“What is it, Luka?” She had to pause humming as she wiped down the counter and the tongs, but she doesn’t seem disturbed by it. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her disturbed by… anything, really.

His hands are too full to do anything fidgety with them, so he has to settle for scuffing the floor with his heel. “They took real good care of the shop while you were gone. Don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Mrs. Cheng’s expression goes soft. “That’s good,” is all she says, and it’s like she knows what he’s really trying to say—and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She’s a mother. She’s Marinette’s mother. Surely there have been plenty of boys, maybe even girls, who’ve spent their fair share of time here, fawning and pining. He wouldn’t be offended if he were just a drop in the bucket.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t considered, until now as he’s hip-checking the door, the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with the ocean name and the ocean eyes, might already be taken.

Yeah, he has to tie down the pastry box to the back of his bike, and yeah, he has to walk his bike part of the way to the Champ de Mars and ignore the buzz of every notification in his back pocket. But it’s worth taking the extra time to enjoy the tea; he doesn’t know much about all the intricacies of the stuff the way Mrs. Cheng probably does, but it’s fruity and it smells kind of like flowers and it warms his insides, the way he thinks most tea is supposed to. And it perks him right up. He knows he’s going to need that today.

Not to mention there is, admittedly, a part of him that keeps looking around the city as he walks, and then bikes. A part of him that keeps wondering if he might catch Marinette lingering around the city. Living in it the way he does—forgetting, perhaps for a while, that other people exist. It’s the sort of thing that seeps in at the edges of his mind instead of plaguing his every waking moment. It comes to him the same way he might look at some old sheet music and remember his sister, or the way he might find an unattended mess and think, ah, that’s Ma.

At least that makes him feel… a little less like a creep.

When he gets to the park, he has to pick his spot strategically. Getting time off deliveries hardly ever means it’s time to rest; it’s either time to practice, or compose, or—his favorite—busk in parks, or metro stations, or the Trocadero plaza if he’s feeling particularly fancy. It’s not so lucrative that he can quit his other job and focus just on music, even if that would be the ultimate dream. But it gets some extra cash in his pocket, and he’d be either deaf or stupid if he ever tried to claim that his ma never taught him the value of a euro.

He decides on a bench nearby, where there are plenty of people scattered across the grass, picnicking and laughing and reading under the early summer sun. Sometimes he wonders what it might be like to belong to one of those groups, instead of half-being part of them online, but all it takes is the pop of his case and his fingers on the strings and knobs to remind him that everything he has is right here.

Still, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a moment or two after he’s eaten, with his permit clipped to the belt loop of his pants and his guitar in his lap, to fish his phone out of his pocket and scroll through his notifications one last time. It’s funny; when he started up this account, it was mostly to have a corner of the internet to himself, where he could share a few unbridled thoughts and a few more composed ones, maybe throw in a Kitty Section promotion or a clip of his latest project. Now, with a handful of new followers and likes and reposts in the double digits, he kind of has to wonder if this is his brand. Awkward musician mini-posts about a girl he’s not so scared to talk to but can’t get up the nerve to Talk To, just because it’s “wholesome.” Complete with that emoji that looks kind of like the pair of puppy dog eyes Juleka gives him when she tries to paint his nails a color that isn’t black.

And then he has to wonder, yet again, why so many people would be so invested in something like that. Why they’re so bent on following a saga about his…

Well, it’s not really a crush…

Is it a crush?

Oh, Jesus, no. Of course not. It’s not as though he spends every waking hour what it might be like to hold her hand, touch it beyond the occasional brush when they exchange boxes and cards. What it might be like not to have to apologize for bumping into her, or holding her attention for too long. It’s not as though he’s constantly imagined an evening moment that belongs to just the two of them, his guitar soothing her away from the pendulum swing of utter chaos and mind-numbing boredom that lives behind the register. And it’s not as though he’s felt the phantom bumps of her knees against his, or the quiet but intentional stroke of her fingers over his knuckles, or the solid feeling of their heads pressed together just before she tilts her own.

…Well. Not all the time.

Luka stuffs his phone in his pocket before he can think any more about what this is and what this isn’t and what he feels and what he doesn’t. He plucks out a few scales and takes a deep breath or two—sometimes he needs to do that to remind himself that he’s a performer, a musician, he’s doing his job and he can claim this space as much as he likes. And then he starts to play.

That’s all it takes. A few bars is all it ever takes for anyone to get as closee as they can to knowing him.

Within seconds, his fingers are dancing along the fretboard of his guitar, playing fanned-out tunes, drippy arpeggios pinpricks that demand to be heard among the background echo of notes gone by. Every chord with its own texture. Every song with its own color, following the ebb and flow of choked strings. He barely realizes he’s swaying and tapping his heel to his own craft, mouthing the lyrics to songs everyone here must know, until the first person approaches and drops a bill in his case. The patrons trickle in after that: some pass by and pause to spare him the courtesy of a removed earbud; some look up from their books and start to dig around in their pockets or their bags. One girl even kicks off her shoes and pulls her boyfriend up to dance with her, and maybe that doesn’t put food in his belly, but it’s something he can carry with him like the blessed photo of his sister that he kept in his worn-out wallet.

He doesn’t look up or open his eyes often—only to nod in thanks to those who are kind enough to pay him. The one time he looks up of his own volition, he lands on a boy and two girls, seated on a pink plaid picnic blanket and chatting excitedly. One of the girls, who has dark hair in a braid and her back turned to him, suddenly swells and sits up on her knees, all animated gestures as she gets to her feet and rounds her friends, evidently to demonstrate something.

His body remembers to keep playing, but the rest of him stops.

Marinette.

The other girl clicks for him then—the reddish hair and the glasses from his delivery to the bakery—just in time for her to make eye contact with him and for a sly smile to spread across her face. She looks up toward Marinette, says something he’s grateful he can’t make out, and when Marinette looks his way with a dove’s eyes and a deer’s stance, he only winks at her and goes back to his playing and swaying.

GOD, he screams to himself. WHY DID HE DO THAT?

He doesn’t dare look up again at least until the end of the song, and it’s a miracle that he plays even better than before he noticed her. When he does, Marinette is still watching him—has she been the whole time? Eventually, and out of the corner of her eye she kneels to gather up her friends’ trash, and she tosses them into the bin nearby. Very, very nearby. And then she kneels down again—very, very down— and drops a couple of bills into his case. It takes the rest of his bravery to lift his gaze toward her.

“First you ‘tip’ me,” he says, one hand on the guitar and the other making air quotes. “Now this?”

“Oh, come on,” she shoots back, smoothing out her skirt as she sits beside him, in spite of how her friend ribs the boy and nods their way. “This doesn’t even come close to how you’ve basically helped keep my parents’ business in the black. Besides…” She nods toward his case. “Now you can’t say you didn’t work for it.”

“Trust me.” Luka pats the body of his guitar, biting back a told you so and the urge to wonder why he feels so sure of himself. What witchcraft the guitar is working to make him feel this way, or if it’s the guitar at all, or whether all it does is make him look like a total douchebag. “I’ve been working.”

“So you can play.” Marinette crosses her legs and her arms, which accentuates the new jade pendant resting in the hollow of her throat. Probably a souvenir from Mrs. Cheng, or a gift from family she’s never met. “That’s not the same as being in a band.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in one. I’ll prove it to you, if you want me to so badly.”

She grins, and it makes every hair stand on end under the heat of the sun. “Oh, yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Come on—a musician never reveals his secrets.”

“That’s a magician, Luka.”

This time it’s his turn to smile, just as he fights back the flare of adrenaline. “Who says I don’t make magic?”

Yeah. It’s definitely the guitar.

“So,” Marinette says. She gives a passerby an admiring look when they stop to drop a few coins in his case, and Luka can’t tell if she’s doing it to thank his patrons or lure them in. “Do you take requests?”

“What’s the matter?” Luka strums a chord, wiggles the fingers that aren’t pinching his pick. “Don’t like my take on popular songs?”

“It’s not that.” She sits back on the bench like she really intends to stay awhile. Like she doesn’t have two friends who are staring at her so intently, either because they’re waiting for her to come back or because all they’re missing is a bucket of popcorn to split. “I guess you just always gave off the vibe that you had some kind of… angle, you know? Like, you’re the type of guy who hears colors, so people can give you a color and…” She shrugs. “You could play it.”

Luka tilts his head. “I can hear colors.” And moods. And hearts. And I’ve been stuck on yours, exactly how you think I mean it, for days. “I just never thought of it as an angle. Just an inspiration.”

Marinette blinks a couple of times in surprise, the sort that only says she wasn’t expecting his answer and thankfully not the sort that might imply that she knows what he’s thinking. “Oh. Well. Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You have something in mind?” He nods toward his case; might as well spare her the awkwardness he knows too well. “You know. So I can work for it.”

She takes a moment to think, seemingly grateful to be relieved of an apology, and she sits up straight only when she meets eyes with her best friend. “Something blue,” she murmurs after a while. “I wouldn’t mind hearing that.”

She says it, and Luka thinks of her without having to look at her. He smiles to himself, adjusting his guitar in his lap and pressing his fingers to the fretboard in the almost-right way. “There’s a saying about that, where my family’s from,” he replies, just loud enough for her to hear, and he begins to play as close to her eyes as he can manage. Pulls her into his world, this place between thoughts where he can get most things just right without having to say anything, where he’s the only person that anything makes sense to—him, and anyone willing to listen.

It feels like Marinette’s willing to listen.

The notes trail off once he reaches the part he hasn’t quite figured out, the sparkle in her eyes he hasn’t , and he’s felt her gaze on him long before he cuts the music and looks her way. “Something like that?” he says. It’s only then that he notices the extra money in his case, and judging from the look on Marinette’s face, she wasn’t the one who put it all there.

But she smiles at him all the same, gets to her feet and dusts off her skirt. “Something like that,” she replies. And then, before she returns to her friends. “I guess this is where I can find you now, huh?”

Like that’s supposed to mean something.

Is it supposed to mean something?

“I mean,” he says. “You could order something again.”

“I mean,” Marinette says back, “I could pick up a couple more shifts at the bakery.”

Luka doesn’t bother with his phone, or any technology, until he gets home—long after he’s settled below deck. It’s only then—because of course it’s right then—that inspiration sparks like a match. Only then that he scrambles for cables and plugs and the laptop he and Juleka used to share until they gifted her a new one for university.

song update. better quality than my phone, even. hit that play button, pals. and thanks for the likes.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #chinhands

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

green room - jungkook x reader

A/N: anon request for a post-concert jealous Jungkook. He’s not happy that you were teasing him while he was performing Euphoria, and now it’s time for you to get your just-desserts. Word count 1.8k. Warnings for sexually explicit content: exhibitionism, public sex, unprotected sex, dom!jk, sub!reader, dirty talk, cum eating (does it count as cum eating when it’s hers not his?).

His breath is hot on your neck. “Did you think that was funny, hm?”

“Not here, Jungkook.”

“Oh?” He’s smiling but it’s bitter, harsh. “Is my baby girl making demands now? See, I’m pretty sure when you decided that teasing me out there in front of all those cameras was a good idea, you lost your right to decide where exactly I’ll fuck you.”

You press your body back into the concrete of the stadium hallway, shivering at the way the coldness seeps past your t-shirt. “Jungkook, come on. I was just playing around.”

You can hear the way footsteps echo throughout the area’s backstage area. This hallway is all but abandoned for now, but it’s impossible to not feel exposed when someone could pass through at any moment. Jungkook has one hand propped up on the wall, elbow crooked above your right shoulder as he leans in. Unlike you, he seems completely unconcerned about any onlookers. “Alright, then. You had your fun. It’s my turn to play now.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whisper, but all protests die in your throat as he takes his other hand and slips it without hesitation into your leggings, cupping your heat. He lets out a surprised laugh when there’s no additional barrier between the cotton and your folds. “The panties leave an outline,” you defend, “that was the only reason. I swear.”

His middle finger curls up, slipping easily between your folds and pressing against you. You whimper and writhe against him, thighs tightening around his hand. Although your cheeks burn at the thought of getting caught, you can’t help but wish he would at least sink that digit deep inside you, hitting those spots only he could.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I have to watch you sitting on Hoseok-hyung’s lap the entire time I was performing the solo, and now I find out you weren’t even wearing panties? You’re just begging to be punished, aren’t you?”

You swallow hard, shaking your head. “No, that’s not it, Jungkookie. Please.” At this point you don’t even know if you’re asking him to stop or pleading for more. You crack open your eyes, only to see his face hovering over yours, drinking in your reaction.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes darkening. “You seem to think it’s perfectly okay to tease me in public when I’m trying to work, so surely you wouldn’t care too much if Hoseok himself were to walk around that corner right now and see you with my hand buried inside you?”

You let out a little frustrated huff and throw your head back, knocking it against the concrete. The tip of his finger was circling slowly, pressing down right at your entrance, but never dipping in. Your hands clasp in and out of fists, wishing you could reach down and push him in, but you know if you did that, you’d have far bigger problems to deal with than his jealousy. “Come on, Jungkook, take me to your dressing room. Take me home. I need you.”

The hand is removed from your leggings, leaving you wet and wanting. You watch blearily as Jungkook begins to lap casually at his fingers, licking all your slick off of them with a doe-like expression on his face. If it weren’t for the glint in his eyes and the ache of your cunt, you might mistake it for innocence. “I’ll give you a choice,” he offers, sucking noisily at the tips of his fingers, cleaning them one by one with a pop, maintaining eye contact as he does so. Once he’s finished, his hand goes to the wall so that he’s pinning you to it, not bothering to wipe away the gloss that gathers over the freckle under his bottom lip. “Either I fuck you here like the shameless little girl you are, or I’ll take you home and you’ll get nothing at all. How about that?”

You glare up at him, but he just grins, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you. You hold his gaze for one moment longer, making sure he’s serious, before you come to a decision. “Make it fast,” you mutter reluctantly, hands grabbing at the belt on his jeans.

He lets out a satisfied chuckle, propping himself up as you undo the buckle hurriedly, tugging at his zip to free him from the confines of his black skinny jeans. As usual, you can’t help your mouth from watering at the sight of him. Although the two of you had been together for long enough and were no strangers to the bedroom, his dick really was a statement in and of itself, fitting the man it belonged to so well. Perfectly straight and delicately curved up, it was ambitious in its length and intimidating in its girth. You thumb at the head, collecting the few beads of precum that your grasping of him has produced.

Were it any other time, he would’ve let out that beautifully melodic sigh of his, curled closer into you, but today he masks it with a hiss of air through his teeth, dark brows furrowed. “That’s it,” he makes out through a tensed jaw, “so desperate for cock that you didn’t even care whose it was, is that right?”

“No,” you protest with a whine, taking one last glance down the hallway before you throw caution to the wind and tug at your own waistband, pushing the fabric down under your ass, feeling how wet the crotch is now that its pressed between your thighs.

Jungkook simply shakes his head at you when you go to grab his dick again. “How am I supposed to fuck you like this if your leggings are keeping your legs together? Either take them off or turn around.”

You swallow down your annoyance at him but can’t deny the swell of pleasure that rises inside of you when you turn and lean into the wall, letting your boyfriend widen your stance with his boots pushing at the insides of your ankles. You gasp and jump when an ice-cold hand, the one that had been propped up on the concrete wall, dips down between your legs to gather your slick.

“You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, in an infuriatingly loud tone, “your ass looks so beautiful like this. Bent over for me. But I think it’ll look much more beautiful tonight, after I’ve spanked you raw.” You whine and sway your hips from side-to-side slightly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and hurry up. “Since Hoseok-hyung enjoyed your ass so much, maybe I should send him a picture.” You naturally tense up with anticipation when you feel the blunt head of Jungkook’s cock pressing against your entrance. “So he knows that what he got is fucking nothing compared to this. So he knows who this ass belongs to. Hm?”

You hold back a strangled moan when he snaps his hips, burying himself about halfway inside you, you having clenched too hard for him to make it all the way in. “Oh, god,” you moan out, muffling the noise against your arm.

He laughs condescendingly. “But that might not be necessary. After all,” he stops to punctuate his statement with a thrust, plunging himself to the hilt and grinding his hips against you, “Hoseok and the other hyungs are in the green room right now, just around that corner.” He fucks into you again and your mouth falls into an o, toes curling inside your shoes, and fingernails scratching at the polished concrete. “Why bother sending a photo when I can just make you scream so loud that he hears you?”

With that said, he reaches forward to grab a handful of your hair, and tugs your head back, using his grip to give him momentum as he begins a steady, unforgiving rhythm. The stretch is tight; had it not been for the limits of doing this right where anybody could see you, Jungkook would’ve fingered you properly first, probably brought you to an orgasm to relax your body enough to take him. But with no time for that, the intrusion is making you pant hopelessly against the wall, fogging the cold surface with your breath as each brutal thrust lifts you up onto the balls of your feet.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I can’t-” You do your best to keep quiet, biting your lip, but it’s no use. With your neck arched back, you can’t bury your face properly onto your forearm, so the noises that do escape echo freely around the empty corridor, bouncing off the walls.

“What was that?” He breathes heavily, the hand that isn’t in your hair is curling tightly around your hip, latching onto your hipbone to pull you back onto his cock every time he spears forward. You’re certain it’ll bruise tomorrow, but for now you don’t care. “Are you close?”

“Not- yet,” you puff out, though Jungkook surely knows that. As much as you can feel pleasure all the way down to your toes, you and him both know you can’t cum from penetration alone, certainly not in such a short time.

“Take your time,” he sneers out, “I’m happy to just keep on going until you cum around me. No rush.”

You whine out his name but he just laughs, thrusting even harder with a grunt of exertion. There’s no way anyone near the corridor wouldn’t have heard you; being a concert venue, the sound traveled so well that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was echoing all the way around to the green room, like Jungkook said. The thought makes your body sing, clenching around him, but the small piece of sanity inside you cringes at the thought.

“Can I… Jungkookie, can I touch myself?”

“Fuck, yes, touch yourself for me. Good girl.”

You do as he allows, feeling that warm spreading feeling of a building orgasm inside you the moment your fingers, frigid cold from the concrete, massage frantically at your clit. “Oh god, I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off in favor of putting all your effort into cumming, but Jungkook gets the hint, speeding up even more until you’re crying out with every brutal thrust.

Like with any particularly powerful orgasm, you go completely silent; mouth hanging open and body convulsing. Your boyfriend lets you ride that wave, holding himself buried deep inside you as he follows you over the edge, filling you up even more with his cum.

The two of you go slack against the cool wall, panting and sticky with sweat. “Come on,” Jungkook says finally, “unless you want to hang out with the men who just heard me fuck your brains out, I think we should head home.”

#btssmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #bts smut #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bts x reader smut #jungkook x reader smut #jk smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #i always feel like im repeating myself in these fuckin tags #do they even work?

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facepalming-since-chernobyl · 3 years

Note

If you ever want to write a full account of your hospital stay, I'm so here for it. I want it all: the farts, the grannies, the fighting over windows, the other weirdos, why you want to murder the doctor and how your fam will help you get away with it, the works. Start writing while I grab the popcorn! 🍿

Ok, don’t remember what I have said here already, so I’ll give a full story plus some flashbacks from my childhood.

-I got 4 grannies in my room, the average age: 65+

-granny number one: ultra Catholic, made a cross on my forehead (I was so shocked, I didn’t say a shit, aside of screaming in my head – woman?! Covid restrictions?! Keep your distance?!), a farmer woman (one day she just said that when she wants a chicken soup, she goes outside, catches the chicken, chops the head and make a soup – the faces of the other grannies - PRICELESS), praying in weird moments, instead of sweat pants, wearing dress shirts and dress pants (and you know, we were doing physical exercises there???), loving dirty jokes and making them A LOT,

-granny number two – tiny old sweet lady (she was like 80 something years old?), usually sitting in the corner or on the balcony and praying silently, she was like Catholic kamikaze, she sometimes was sitting on the balcony and praying for FIVE HOURS, oh, and once shitted her pants

-granny number three – ex school director, Miss Ooooow, Ooooow, came with 2 suitcases and occupied ½ of the wardrobe (for example, I managed to put all my things in my night stand), was very surprised I came with so little clothes and was washing them, was crying when she had to wash her hair because she always goes to hairdresser…

-granny number four – on a wheelchair, my best pal, making her own cigarettes at evenings on the canteen (a place where the meals were served, close to the balcony), as much done with the other ladies as I was,

-our room were filled with weird Turkish soap operas (the first time they turned the television on some Mahmud wanted to kill some Bahar and the dialogues were so cringy I had to check if it was a real show and surprisingly it was). Every day after I was evacuating my ass to the canteen or to the balcony where I was reading (I’ve finished 19 books and my ass still hurts because of the fucking hard chairs).

-if it was not a Turkish soap opera, it was Polish News on the public channel (Imagine FOX news), so every fucking day when it was played, the traitors of Polishness and Polish tradition and the only good ruling party like me, were gathering in the canteen. We were like a few folks (me, the granny number 4 and some dude doing crosswords and having super high blood pressure, mostly because all dudes from his room were watching the news and agreeing with everything what was said there)

-food, examples

-so I was not eating too much, so granny number one made a cross on my forehead and blessed me, so I would eat more and have a strength to give birth to children – I shit you not

-when I said I don’t want children – they almost had a collective heart attack. I decided to not reveal my other social, religion and political opinions, because I would be strangled to death in my sleep by a rosary one night

-one day I was stupid too much and didn’t leave the room while they were watching Polish Fox News and while half listening to the bullshit I probably made a fuck-my-life-face. When they ask what I was thinking about, my, a fucking idiot, said that about the vanity of life. They almost got another collective heart attack and almost ran to the nurses, no idea why but whatever

-Granny number 3, was afraid of other people snoring, because she had problems with sleep. In the end she was the one who snored the loudest

-there was an opening/closing the windows war. Granny 1 had sick lungs and asthma and whatever so was always closing the window because she was getting pneumonia and oh my god, while Granny 3 had problems with breathing, was suffocating and oh my God, so she was always opening the window. Granny number 3 was always opening the window while other already left for the meals, while Granny number 1 was always returning first and complaining SOMEONE was trying to kill her with the cold air and closing the windows. HILAROUS stuff

-on the end of the first week I ACCIDENTALLY broke a small window that was situated on the top, a window that supposedly was not meant to be open, so for the next 2 weeks we had a window opened ALL the time. Don’t ask why no one called some dudes to fix it, I have no idea, but thanks to it I survived the nights full of symphonies of farts

-that one day they gave us beans for the dinner and boy, you can only imagine

-one day we got a meat chops with a crispy batter. If you added the batter on the bottom to the batter on the top of the meat, they were thicker than meat itself

-all soups tasted the same. One day they gave us a soup and I was SURE it was a pickled cucumber soup and I was AMAZED that they managed to make it without cucumbers. Then I have learnt it was a sorrel soup *sad music in the background*

-the grannies loved to motherhen me for some reason. For example, I was sitting politely in the canteen, reading another fucking book, when one of them came and said I should not read so much, it’s unhealthy and they are worried about me. I was blinking for 30 seconds, wondering if laughing like a mad hyena would make them having another collective heart attack. In the end I just mhm-ed and continued reading.

-later I have learnt they were behaving like that, because they thought I was in middle school…

-basically, I was the youngest person on the ward and some nurses and other patients felt sorry for me because I didn’t have anyone in my age to talk… and I was like… why the fuck I should have been feeling sad? I could read and NOT TALK??? Also, or reading or murdering the grannies with a plastic spoon in their sleep, so thank you very much, leave my ass alone.

-on one dinner I basically ate pasta with pepper, because the spinach, guys, the spinach was awful and I’m not going to traumatize you with the pic

-I had a deal with the crosswords dude during breakfasts and suppers – was giving him ham and cold meat, he was giving me jam

-the Granny number one was SLEEP SINGING one night

-two days per every week some farmer was coming and selling his vegetables and fruits. Guys, all patients were buying food there, for sure I was weeping while buying plums, apples and tomatoes.

-Granny number three was super annoying and acting like a bitch aka typical ex school director, because when she wanted to watch something in TV at night, she always did even if the others were upset, but when she wanted to go to sleep at 9 she owww owwww owwwwed and was turning the lights off. So, sometimes I was returning at 9 to the room and it was dark. And there were no night bedside lamps, so it meant you needed to go to sleep too. At fucking 9.

-the face of one dude who was eating with us on one table was always priceless every time when he was opening the boxes. It was a personification of a man who was done, crying inside and knowing he can’t escape

-the most traumatizing experience after my hip surgery was PEEING. The nurse brought me a bed pan and I needed to pee while laying on my back and it was weirdly difficult, maybe because the nurse was standing over me, talking to another patient. Also, I can’t imagine taking a shit while laying, but whatever. On one moment after like a minute me trying hard, she put a hand on my stomach and said, oh so hard. My face was probably a mix between: ==’ and O.O. But in the end I succeeded, yay…

-another traumatizing experience is measuring the temperature every morning around 6. You know, you are sleeping, but suddenly feel some movement, so you open your eyes and a nurse, wearing a mask is aiming a thermometer that looks like a gun at your forehead. Amazing feeling

-I talked with some dude who had the same surgery aka hip removal, but he was not sleeping so he herd everything, and said how blood was gushing all over the place and the surgeons and the nurse was bringing the artificial hips three times, because the surgeons were not sure if they are the good ones. FUN

-btw, the first time when I saw a dead body was in a hospital. There was a ward where one room was for children, the rest was for adults after accidents etc. Sometimes someone died and they were usually putting the dead body to the bathroom on the corridor (no toilets at the rooms, it was one of the two bathrooms for whole ward). They usually put an “out of service” paper on the door, but sometimes they forgot about it. So, one night, me, sleepy and yawning went to the toilet, opened the door and hellooooooooooo the end of my innocence.

-the most stressful experience from my childhood hospital stayings was “did you defecate yesterday”? Because if you didn’t for a few days an enema was waiting

#not sg #my fam #shitposting #hospital stories

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theluckyshadow · 4 years

Text

Hook up

Jamie hooks up with an unlikely friend

Maybe a little jealous Kevin in the mix

Jamie’s masterlist

The dorm was empty, empty par the two intoxicated adults rushing through the dorm. Jamie was guiding Chani by his hand towards her bedroom only to be stopped by him in the hallway.

“Are you sure you want this?” He questions, you two were friends afterall, what would this to to that friendship?

“Yes. Please... do you?” She asked. His eyes searched her own before he pulled her in for what would have felt like the millionth kiss that night. (It wasn’t but don’t tell them that) They were in bliss, her arm wrapped over his shoulder, fingers tangled in the short hair, her other hand searching for the door knob.

The Boyz hadn’t planned to come home till after the afterparty, his own group, SF9, there as well so the two had snuck off- well they told their respective bands they’d be heading home... Jamie just never said who with.

Flashback

“You look like you’re having fun.” Jamie laughed as she looked to the male beside her. He jumped.

“Yeah.. afterparties aren’t really my thing.” He shrugged taking a gulp of his drink.

“Me either. Want some company?” The boy raised a brow. “What? I’m not asking you to dance.”

“You are one strange girl Song Jamie.”

“And you are one bored looking boy Kang Chani.” She sent him a wink whilst sipping at her own drink. “I’m not drunk yet so here’s a dumb sober question... how does it feel knowing I’m practically the same height as you?”

“Okay. I’m still taller-“ Chani laughed.

“By one centimetre! Mr 5’10.”

“Yeah yeah miss 5’9.”

After their giggling and jibbing wound down, and they were on their fifth drink each (and beginning to feel the effects of the admittedly strong beverage) they’d decided to chill outside on the balcony, sixth drink in hand.

“What’s this one a mix of?” Jamie questions, lightly bumping her hip into his as he goes to drink it.

“Vodka and guava juice or something. That’s what Hwiyoung said anyway.” Chani answered. “It tastes nice.”

“Was Hwiyoung hooking up with Xena or is that her wishful thinking?”

“Oh no they’ve fucked. Really loud too.”

“You look traumatised.” Jamie laughs, some drink spilling over the sides as the pair move to lean against each other.

“Have any of The Boyz brought people home?”

“Juyeon. I set him up with my friend Hyeji and well they are definitely thankful I did that... I don’t bring people over when anyone is at the dorm. Usually I go to a hotel or their dorm.”

“You’ve hooked up with people?”

“Yes. Why so surprised? Have you?”

“I don’t know just didn’t expect it. Not really. Maybe once but otherwise closest I got to anything was that make out session with Jiah in Sky Castle.”

“You need to let loose dude. Get rid of the stress god knows I do.” She giggles as the boy’s face flushed.

“Got anyone in mind?” He asked faux confidence flowing through him- mostly due to the help from the alcohol. They turned and looked at each other, eyes locked before placing down their now empty glasses and shuffling towards the dark corner of the balcony.

Jamie presses Chani against the wall, her fingers thread into his hair as their lips pressed together. His hands rested on her hips tugging her against him, the thin material of her dress leaving no thought to the imagination for him or his dick. The alcohol definitely helped with that, especially when the two began grinding against each other.

“Want to head to my dorm?” She whispers breathlessly between kisses. She almost whimpers when Chani’s hands grope at the flesh of her ass, a conformation.

“Yes.”

With a haste they fix themselves and split to tell their band’s respectively that they were heading off. Chani told Youngbin he was taking Jamie to her dorm while Jamie told Haknyeon she was getting dropped off at the dorm- he offered to take her himself but she told him to enjoy himself as she’d had enough that evening and needed some time alone- a lie but she certainly doesn’t need Haknyeon home while she’s with Chani.

With a wave the two are off, masks on and taxi driver oblivious. They quickly pay as they arrive and rush towards the door, lips again pressing against the others.

Flashback end

Leading up to now they’d only been making out, their tongues having all the fun exploring each other’s mouths.

Finally, when Jamie is sure she’s found the right room, they collapse on her bed, shoes left at the front door and clothes already messily pulled. Chani manoeuvres himself beneath the girl, him not being as experienced he hoped she’d take charge- and she did. She sat atop of him, her crotch grinding against his own. She leaned over him and pressed kisses to his jaw whilst his hands moved beneath her dress. She sits up lifting herself a little so she can grab the hem of her dress and pull it off. Chani groans beneath her at the sight, her skin smooth and golden, the swells of her breasts pressed by her bra, her underwear sitting comfortably against her skin helping to show the curve of her hips. Once the dress was on the floor his hands glide up her thighs, up her stomach to cup her breasts. She leans into the touch and grinds down against him again, the jeans texture feeling amazing through her thin underwear.

“Did you plan on getting fucked this evening?” Chani asks bravely as he takes in her figure and notably the lacy underwear.

“Nope... but from the looks of it I’ll be fucking you sooo?” She smirks. He laughs and quickly undoes her bra, eager to squeeze the supple mounds without anything in the way.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, even being drunk couldn’t hide the flash of red on her cheeks. She grabbed Chani by is shirt and pulled him up to kiss her again this time undoing his buttons. His shirt met the floor as she hastily threw it away for her hands to begin exploring the expanse of his skin.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping their lips locked even as Chani decided to flip them. Jamie now beneath Chani eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him down against her. He bucked into her a moan ripping from their throats at the feeling. Quickly she pushed Chani upright having enough of the dry humping and grinding the’d been doing for what felt like hours. Her hands reached for his belt and began undoing it quickly.

Chani let out a breathy laugh at her cutely frustrated face. With ease he undoes the belt and pants shifting himself to pull off the pants and his boxers leaving him bare. Jamie bit her lip as she looked at him before wiggling her hips. He raised a brow while she merely smirked back. His hands trailed up her legs, fingers hooking beneath the band of underwear and slowly brought it down her legs.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her bare and open for him.

“Do you have a-“

“I’m clean and on the pill... but I have one if you want it?” Chani gulped.

“It’s okay... doesn’t hurt to check don’t need to get anyone pregnant.” Jamie giggles at the innocent remark.

“Sit on the bed.” She said pushing him to lean against the wall. Jamie picked herself up and brought herself to the floor on her knees. She rest her cheek on his bare thigh. “Can I?”

He gulps and nods quickly as Jamie’s hand wraps around his hardnened length pumping slowly before pressing the head to her lips. Chani moans and throws his head back against the wall. He wasn’t ready for how good she felt around him- her tongue licking and lapping at the hard member. He cursed as she sucked at him, his fingers finding their way to her hair bringing her further down his dick.

Jamie glanced up at him with wide doe like eyes as she took him deeper into her mouth and that nearly sent him over the edge. He let out a shaky breath as his dick touched the back of her throat- she was certainly glad she didn’t have a strong gag reflex right now as she took him. With a pop she let him out of her mouth to kitten lick at the tip, his breathing getting heavier and heavier as he neared finishing. She brought him back into her mouth and bobbed her head a few times before feeling his cock twitch.

“Gonna- mhm- cum... Jamie.” His hips bucked up a little hitting the back of her throat as he came. She swallowed and with another loud pop she removed him from her mouth and began to kiss up his thighs to his stomach and chest, up his neck before connecting their lips again. “My turn.” He growled.

Chani pushed the tall girl till she was laying back on her bed legs spread open, his lips painting reds and purples from her chest to the insides of her thighs. He’d never done this before so he was tentative, a small lick against her core. She shuddered so he assumed he was doing alright. Thank god for the alcohol running through his veins as he braved a flat tongue against her wet heat. Jamie swore.

“Fuck! Chani.” If it weren’t for her hand now gripping at his hair he’d be startled at her thick Australian accent- to be fair she doesn’t get to speak English a lot. Experimenting he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, the sound she made was fucking amazing and if the grip on his hair was anything to go by he was doing fantastic. God this was making him hard again. Slowly he brought a hand between them, fingers prodding at her entrance, her legs shaking already. One finger quickly became two and after that Jamie was so so close.

“Fuck. Stop.” She pulled him away. He panicked had he done something wrong. “Fuck me already.”

Oh... he hadn’t done anything wrong Jamie had just grown impatient. She pulled him up, tongue lapping at her own cum on his lips and sighed pulling his body above hers. He was raised over her body, his arms holding his body weight as her hand guided him into her. They both sighed.

A slow thrust helped Jamie accumulate to his size before asking him to move faster. A curse left her lips again, slightly louder this time as he sped up. His hips began to slap against her own pulling himself almost all the way out before fucking back into her to his hilt. She cried out her body spawning beneath him as an orgasm washed over her.

“Keep.. going. Don’t stop fuck fuck.” He pulled out and had her roll onto her belly pulling her up so her hips were lined with his and his stomach pressed to her back. He fucked into her harder, slapping sounds emanated from all corners from the room accompanied by high pitched moans and gravelly groans. Without thinking Chani pulled Jamie up by her hair, hips still rocking into her quickly, their bodies pressed closer together now as they sloppily kissed. Jamie’s hands struggled to find something to hold swinging backwards to grasp onto Chani’s thighs.

More curses, groans and whimpers joined the air along with the smell of sweat and sex. Chani’s thrusts had somehow managed to get harder making Jamie’s body shake. Again the switched positions settling so Jamie was on top and spinning so that they were facing each other. Their lips crashing and biting and sucking as Jamie rocked her hips against the male beneath her. Chani bucked upwards, a sign that he was close whilst she clenched around him. A guttural moan ripping from their throats as they both came, bodies shaking and weak from the orgasm. After riding out their high, with help from Chani rocking her back and forth she fell forward onto him, panting and laughing.

“Why are you laughing?”

“That was some of the best sex I’d had in so long. You were really fucking good- for a friend.” At that he snorted.

“I’ll take that with pride good friend.” He helped her move so he was no longer in her. She hissed at the feeling and plopped into his arms. He hugged her before noticing the time.

“Shit we went for two hours?” He laughed. Jamie grinned and pushed him away nodding for him to get dressed. “Need help cleaning up?”

“No I’m okay just pass the wipes on the dresser.” She thanks him as he does and proceeds to clean herself up as he watches. She grabs her underwear and pyjamas and throws them on. “Get dressed we don’t have time for another round.”

Chani blushes and quickly turns away pulling on his pants (and underwear) and quickly doing up his belt. “Where’s my shirt?”

“With my dress near the other beds... by the way my lipstick looks really fucking good on you.” She smirks staring him down.

“Calm down we don’t have time for another round.” He jokes looking her up and down. Jamie’s lipstick was smeared about her mouth- well she was cleaning it off with a spare wipe so it was fine for now. Jamie laughed at him, his hair was a mess tugged in all directions and his shirt hastily buttoned. Jamie couldn’t complain her own hair was a mess in all directions as well.

Chani picked up his phone to see a missed call and a bunch of missed texts.

“I’m either in a lot of trouble or going to get horribly teased... apparently my manager has arrived to pick me up how nice.” Jamie snorts finally sobering up along with Chani.

“We fucked for a while I guess.” Some shifting outside the door startled them and a bang sounded on the door.

“Jamie are you done? And whoever is in there with you?” Chani and Jamie laughed at Chanhee’s attempt to be angry, his drunken slur really didn’t help them feel intimidated. She wobbled a little as she walked the unkempt looking boy to the door.

“Yes Chanhee we are done why want a go yourself?” She said swinging open the door.. to say the boy was unimpressed was accurate. Eric looked disgusted along with Hyunjae who had sauntered passed as she opened the door. “How long you been home?”

“Long enough to head most of whatever you two were doing.” Eric gagged.

Chani apologied and made his way to the front door, Jamie following to let him out... well this was awkward pretty much everyone was in the living room sitting like disappointed parents.

“Ah I’ll be going now.” Chani said and she merely nodded and said goodbye to him as he shut the door behind him.

Beat

The boyz weren’t really in the mood for the rest of the party and had decided to head home... they really wish they didn’t, a certain girl’s roommates specifically.

“Is Jamie... having sex with someone?” Chanhee grimaced at the thought, and almost gagged at the sound that came from the room a moment later. “She is. Ew yuck.”

While everyone was at different stages of disgust and carelessness Kevin was.. notably and confusingly angry. He didn’t know why, those watching his face shift to one of anger were also confused. The Boyz opted to stay in the living room totally not to glare at whoever left Jamie’s room. When all the sound stopped Chanhee and Eric stood up half-hazardly to see if it was over while Hyunjae decided he needed a shower- who knows why he needed to announce that (hint: it was the alcohol).

Kang Chani was who left the room with Jamie... he looked understandably uncomfortable with the stares from the large boy group and made his quick goodbyes.

‘Maybe he wasn’t that good’

That’s likely from the sounds she was making..’

‘Bet I could have been better.’

‘Why does he look like he got dressed because he was caught fucking her-‘

‘Wait? I could have been better?’

If you asked Kevin he would blame the alcohol because his thoughts were a wreck... no way could he imagine himself in Kang Chani’s shoes fucking her, making love to her, listening to those noises only he should have been having her make. FUCK he was a mess and wasn’t thinking clearly, he needed a shower as soon as Hyunjae was out.

“Soooo. How was the party?” Jamie asked. Her feigned innocence seemed to make Kevin angrier.

“Good. How was the sex.” Sunwoo asked.

“Better than with you.”

“I thought we’d never speak of that.” He snickered.

“Okay ignoring that bombshell for a moment..” Kevin started, rage clearly in his voice. Jamie stepped back- it was insanely rare Kevin got angry so she was really worried. “You left the party just to fuck someone.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jamie snapped back. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Dude I have needs that need to be met and we were drunk so we had sex isn’t going to change anything between us.”

“It’s not? What about the group dynamics. You two are friends what if the media caught you two of the way here? Did you make out in the taxi on the way here?”

“Calm the fuck down Kev.”

“Language Jamie.” Sangyeon intercepted. Jacob motioned for him to shut up.

“I can sleep with whoever I wish. I wasn’t forced too and he wasn’t either. For a fact neither has anyone I have slept with so calm the fuck down. Why are you so upset? I get horny to sorry to say.”

Kevin’s jaw clenched. He really didn’t know why he was so angry.. not at all.

“Sorry... I guess the alcohol got to me tonight... just be safe.” He said quietly walking off towards the bathroom. Jamie watched confused as he walked off seemingly in a daze.

Beat

“Soo you and Sunwoo have fucked?”

“Please shut up Juyeon.”

“Sorry just wanted to lift the tension.”

#the boyz smut #sf9 smut #the boyz 12th member #the boyz 13th member #jamie song #kang chani smut #chani smut #sf9 chani smut #no she isnt with Kevin yet #mwahah you’ll see what I have planned soon #jealous Kevin moon

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

Text

Safe - “Don’t. Don’t ask.”

Summary: Jason is great at getting into awful situations. He's really bad at getting out of them. Dick is a little tired of his impulsive little brother, but comes to the rescue all the same.

Word count: 2613

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435032

Notes: Hello! Thank you for clicking this, I hope you enjoy this work! This has been beta'd by @3ambird, they are an amazing person and I don't know what would be of me without them making my works this much better with their sharp eyes. Thank you so much!

Also, I’d like to say that I may be a little absent because my classes are going to start up again this monday, but I’ll try my best to post at least every ten-twelve days. Don’t let that stop you from requesting stuff though! I love them, because they give me a clear direction and keep my mind from wandering away into places I don’t want to go to, ahahhaha

TW: Blood, Killing, Deaths.

Dick’s cell rang in the middle of patrol. Jason was calling. He frowns at the phone, but picks up anyway.

“Hey.” He says, sitting down on a rooftop, looking up at the stars “What’s up?”

“Hey.” Jason answers, and Dick can tell he’s struggling to breathe, as if he had run a marathon. He immediately straightens up, more alert “Are you... Can you get to my place?”

“Yes.” Dick stands up, already planning the best route to his brother’s apartment “What happened? Why didn’t you use the usual way?”

“I... I don’t want him to know.” Jason admits “It’s bad Dick. Really bad. I just need... A little help. Please.”

Dick sighs, and turns off his comm.

“I’m on my way.” He hangs up, shoving the phone back into its designated pocket.

Dick sees this kind of situation way too often with Jason. His impulsive brother would launch himself into situations he couldn’t always handle alone. Dick tried to remember that it was not his place to judge; he was just as impulsive as his little brother, but a part of him would always get irrationally mad over his actions. A small part of him, a part that he carefully buried deep inside his chest before he’d talk to his brother wanted to yell, tell him to stop behaving like a selfish child.

Swallowing these thoughts, Nightwing tapped on his brother’s window before opening it.

“Jason?” He called as he stepped into the dark apartment.

“I’m here.” Jason answered, sitting in the corner of the living room.

“I’m gonna turn on the lights, okay? I can’t see anything in here.” Dick warned as he placed a hand on the lightswitch.

“No, wait!” Jason tried to stop him, but it was just too late. Once the living room was illuminated, Dick gasped at the scene ahead of him, feeling sick.

Two corpses were laying on the ground, each in one end of the room, and Jason crouched against the wall, covered in blood. There were puddles of it under both of the bodies, and there were splashes on the walls and couch, indicating that the murders had happened inside. The stains were still a deep red. The stench of it burned into Dick’s nostrils, making him gag on the metallic smell.

“Jason, what did you do?” Dick asks as he shoves his hands inside his hair, pulling a little at the sides.

“Don’t.” Jason starts “Don’t ask.”

“Fuck man, why would you do this?” Dick kneels next to one of the bodies; a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead indicated the cause of death “Jason, what the fuck?”

“Dick, please.” Jason gets up, holding his brother’s hands with his bloodied, trembling ones “Please, man. You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to do this. I just... Shit, man. I need help.”

Their eyes met, and Dick’s anger and resentment dissipated for a second, noticing how deeply desperate his little brother was. How lost his little wing felt, covered in the blood of two strangers, face riddled with bruises and eyes so, so scared.

Slowly, he nodded at the younger man, finally understanding what this was about.

Because it wasn’t about the killings. Jason was far too used to it by now.

It was about the place. It was about it being here, where he should feel safe. And now, he didn’t feel safe anymore.

“Alright. I’ll help. But we’ll need to talk about this eventually.” Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Dick interrupted him “I don’t need it to happen tonight. I just need it to happen, and it’s going to happen, Jason.” His brother swallowed and nodded, backing off and looking at the ground “Okay. Now pull yourself back together, because we’ll need to get rid of these bodies quickly. Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t know their names... I just know that they were Roman’s hitmen.” Jason rubbed his face in distress, smearing blood all over it “Fuck, Dick, what am I gonna do now?”

“Breathe.” Dick said “Breathe, and get control over this. You can freak out once we’re done.But right now, I really need you to cooperate with me.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“Get me trash bags and rope. We’ll tie these bodies together.”

Jason goes into his kitchen and Dick crouches down to roll up his brother’s carpet and drag the two corpses closer. Once his brother comes back, both of them cover the bodies with black trash bags and tie them up with the rope, in a nauseating dead man burrito.

“Listen, Jason, I’m gonna need to call someone else.” Jason’s eyes widen “We need to get these bodies out of here so we can dispose of them, but I’m on foot. It’s either Tim or Babs.”

“I...” He takes a deep breath “Call Tim.”

“Alright.” Dick says “Start getting cleaning supplies. And some strong ass scissors or whatever, so we can cut up and burn this carpet.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s drenched in blood and I don’t feel like spending hours cleaning it. Do you?”

“Yeah, okay, we’ll… we’ll burn it.”

Jason leaves the room again and Dick calls Tim.

“Hey. It’s me.” Jason can overhear the conversation, even if he doesn’t want to “Listen, I need help. I’m at Jason’s. Two bodies that need to be gone. Can you handle it? Thank you, Tim.” Dick turns to Jason, who had just walked back into the room “He’ll be here in ten. Let’s get started on the cleaning.”

Dick removed the stains from the couch quickly before cleaning the walls as Jason moped the floor to the best of his skills. When Tim arrived on the Batplane, Dick went to the roof to greet him, bringing the two bodies.

“Fuck, man.” Tim says “What did he do this time?”

“He doesn’t wanna talk about it.” Dick shoves the bodies in the small plane, grunting from the effort “Can you find out who they were and maybe make them disappear?”

“Pfft. Of course I can.” Tim answers “This is all kinda dark, but it’s not like I’m not me.”

“Yeah, right.” Dick smirks “Thank you Red Robin. Really. And, oh, maybe don’t mention this to Batman?”

“Nightwing, do you have me confused with Robin? Because I do have brains.”

Dick snorts. If anyone would be able to make him laugh in a situation like this, that would have to be Tim.

“Whatever. Thank you for the help. I’m gonna go back to cleaning.”

“Go on. Good luck.” Tim gets on the plane and flies away.

Dick quickly hops back into the apartment, and Jason had already started cutting the carpet into strips. He shoved the pieces his brother had cut inside another trash bag.

“We’ll burn those in a proper place.” Dick explains.

Once they are done with the living room, Dick directs his brother to the bathroom.

“Okay. We’re done now Jay. If you need to let it out, to... break down, go ahead, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Jason shoved his hands in his hair, overwhelmed, and he leaned on Dick and cried on his shoulder until his body went limp.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, man?” Jason cries, face buried on Dick’s neck and shoulder “Why do I... Why can’t I just be like you? Why does this keep happening?”

“Shh...” Dick ran a hand through his brother’s hair “It’ll be alright Jay. We’ll handle this.”

“How?” He steps back, searching his brother’s eyes, but Dick still has his mask on “How can we handle this? I... ‘s my apartment, Dick! They figured out where I live! I’m a failure, and a danger! To others and myself.” Jason’s eyes fall, fixated on a crack in his bathroom’s tiles “Y’know,” He starts again, whispering “When a dog kills someone... they put it down.”

“Hey, look at me.” Dick says, grabbing Jason’s shoulder “You’re not a dog, Jason. And we’re not putting you down. We’re family, okay? Not by blood, but by something stronger: choice. And I’m not giving up on you.” He squeezes his brother’s shoulder a little “So don’t you dare give up now, do you hear me?”

Jason nods, trying to regain some of his confidence.

“I just...” He sighs, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand “I don’t even know where to start.”

Dick’s expression softened, and so did his grasp on Jason’s shoulder.

“Let’s start with a shower, yeah?” He suggests.

“Yeah. That- that’s a good idea.” Jason answers, pulling off his jacket and staring at a blood stain on it “What... What about my clothes?”

“Let me worry about them.” Dick takes the jacket from his brother, waiting for the next items patiently, back turned to his brother.

Dick left with the clothes, going for Jason’s small laundry. He ran some cold water through the fabrics, getting rid of most of the stains, and used some hydrogen peroxide on the most stubborn, already dried ones. He hung the clothes up so they wouldn’t stench up the whole area, hoping that Jason wouldn’t take them as clean clothes. After that, Dick opens his communicator’s channel again, clicking on it to call for Batman.

“Batman,” He starts “I’m off for the night.”

“Nightwing, you’re not done with your patrol time yet.” Batman replies.

“I know.” Dick sighs and presses the middle of his forehead with his middle finger, stressed “Something came up.”

“What came up?”

“What usually does.”

“And what would that be?” the Bat growls.

“What do you think?” Dick rolls his eyes, trying his hardest not to say I’m stuck playing dad again because you’re too busy punching criminals in a bat suit.

The line goes silent for a while.

“Is he... Okay?” Bruce asks. And this is definitely Bruce’s voice, not Batman’s growl.

“Physically? Yeah, just a couple of bruises. Mentally? Getting there. Or at least trying to.”

Dick hears the man breathing on the other end of the line.

“And I don’t suppose you’re telling me what happened?”

“You know I won’t.” Dick answers “It’s none of your business. He’s a grown man, he’ll share it if he feels like it. Don’t go demanding answers he isn’t ready to give.”

“Nightwing...” Batman’s voice sounds almost sad through the device “If you can... Bring him home. Please.”

“I will. If he wants to.” Dick takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, tired. “I’m signing out for the night. Be safe.”

As he pulls the device from his ears, Dick wants to throw it against the wall, step on it when it falls, take one of Jason’s pistols and shoot it three times in a row. Instead, he places it on top of the washing machine, bringing his right hand to the back of his head to take a fistfull of his own hair, the strands closest to his neck, and tugging at it. Barbara’s words came to mind. “You have to stop doing that,” She had said to him once “You might just end up going prematurely bald”.

Dick had argued that that is not how balding works, plus, his biological father kept his hair for as long as he lived, so he most likely was all good on that one. He hoped.

Walking to Jason’s closet, Dick opened the last drawer on the left corner, picking up the sweatpants and t-shirt his little brother kept for him, if he ever needed to change from his Nightwing outfit to regular clothes. As he stripped, he noticed a sharp pain on the right side of his torso. There was a big, dark bruise covering that side of his ribcage. Rolling his eyes, he pulled on the comfortable clothes, annoyed at the pain as he rubbed the area harshly, not sure if that made it better or worse.

In the living room, Dick shot the kitchen door a look, trying to decide on whether or not he should try to make Jason a warm meal. He wanted to, but his tiredness and sore muscles got the best of him, deciding to settle on the couch to wait for Jason, hoping that the man wouldn’t be hungry.

It doesn’t take long for Jason to come out of the shower, hair dripping wet.

“Hey.” Dick turns his head to look at him “Do you need some ice for those bruises?”

“No.” Jason replies, groaning as he sits down next to Dick “Are you... Can you stay? Just for tonight?”

“Of course I can.” Dick answers, offering a weak smile to his brother “But... Maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t think that you’ll be able to sleep here, Jay.” Dick says, leaning forward a little.

“Are you... Trying to drag me back to the manor?” Jason squints as he speaks.

“No.” Dick sighs “I just... I had to offer. But it’s your choice.”

Jason stops for a moment.

“I... I would. But... I don’t think that... Bruce really wants me there.” He rubs at his eyes for a moment.

“Hey, c’mon, that’s not true at all.” Dick hugs him, resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder “Bruce wants you there. He’d be thrilled with having you back, Jay. You’re his little boy, no matter how much you grow.”

“Are you sure?” Jason whispers.

“Yes.”

“What if he... what if he finds out about... This?” He gestures towards the room “He’ll throw me out... for good.”

“He won’t.” Dick answers softly, the vibrations his voice sent through his chest helping calm Jason down as he spoke “He loves you too much.”

Jason cried again, sobbing violently until he was out of breath, gasping for air between tears. Dick hummed softly, the tune of an old lullaby he knew calmed his brother down, a hand brushing through Jason’s hair.

“C’mon, Little Wing,” Dick whispered “Let me take you home, hm? You’ll sleep better there.”

“Okay.” Jason whispered back “But... we don’t have to tell Bruce why, do we?”

“Of course we don’t Jay.” Dick rubbed his arm.

Jason sniffled, and they sat quietly for a while before the younger man got up. Dick helped him pack some clothes and other personal items, enough for a week. If Jason decided he’d stay any longer, they could always drive back to get more things. When they reached the manor, both of them went straight to Jason’s room, and Dick sat on the ground, by Jason’s side, humming lullabies he had learned from his father, mother, Alfred, Bruce, and even Jason until his brother fell asleep.

Dick went down to the cave, wanting to work more. He wouldn’t be able to go back to the streets now, as much as he wanted to. Everyone would scold him for leaving Jason alone, and he didn’t really have the heart to do so anyway, but he also knows he won’t be able to sleep yet. However, in the cave he is still useless. If they needed information or help of any sort, they’d all contact Oracle, not Nightwing.

So he settled for practicing, using the bars on the cave to let off some steam, performing difficult and elaborate flips, practicing different grips, using his core muscles as much as he could, strengthening them. He wanted to be sore when he went to bed, and he was. The extra exercise helped him fall asleep faster, and the next morning, when he felt his entire body ache, he might’ve regretted his decision, but Jason was at the breakfast table, sliding him a cream for bruises and winking at him, so he didn’t, because at the very least his little brother was safe at home.

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noxtms · 3 years

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IN CHARACTER DATE : december 9th, 2020. SYNOPSIS : the answer to the question of where is percy weasley. TRIGGER WARNINGS : abduction & blood, torture implied.

and the panic sets in like this : slow and brutal, tar - thick in the back of his throat when he realises that he can’t move his hands. ( it comes as a double edged sword of terror and dread ; there is nothing he can do. PERCY is acutely aware of something sliciing neat ribbons into the flesh of his wrist, of the way blood trickles lazy rivers down his hands. ) hues haven’t quite been able to focus / devoid of either contacts or the glasses he only wears when he’s alone, percy’s never felt quite this helpless before. bound to god knows what and barely able to see : he cuts a desperate, sad image. he’s too afraid of the way the noise might ricochet in the silence, the way it might snowball into a sob that’ll wrack an attenuate ribcage. god, he feels exposed.

( and despite it all, he’ll cling to ludicity : he knows that screaming, begging, yelling won’t do him any good. crying out somewhere at the back of his mind, the sickened thought : this isn’t good. someone wants you dead, and if you scream you’re more likely to die. you cannot afford your mother another dead son, another casket her frail shoulder cannot possible bear. in the face of abject misery, you resolve to stay silent / complacent in your own disappearance. that’s if they notice, what if they don’t notice, what if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it scream --- )

somewhere, a rustle in the dark, and resolve crumbles. it can’t be helped. “please, help me, please.”

four words & suddenly it’s a performance / mask down, lights up, camera set, action. all the world a stage and the space is now a grandstand, one that amycus intends to milk for all it’s worth. he comes to life as if it’s that note of desperation that he’s been waiting for, puppet on string. he pushes wide the door of the room the other is held in as if it took force to burst inside, his chest heaving from imagined exertion, his wand clutched too tightly as if he’s ready at any moment to defend them from unseen terror. he looks equal parts terrified & frantic, as if he doesn’t know what’s around any shadowed corner and he wants to get them out of there as quick as possible.

of course, his steps falter immediately. a true rescuer wouldn’t hesitate to release the bonds holding the other in place, but AMYCUS holds back as if assessing a situation that needs no assessment. there’s a waver to his voice. “percy weasley. merlin’s beard... your family will be so relieved you’re alright.” he feigns a look over his shoulder, all the better for appearances. “i don’t know how much time i have...”

he’s begging. one sound from them and he’s already pleading, as if the sound in the dark is a savior, instead of specters plucked from ephilates of a tired generation. perhaps it would be a mercy to cut to the chase, but the carrow twins, well, they’re known for playing games. that’s all this is, isn’t it? their way of playing god by toying with percy like he’s little more than a plaything in the hands of spoiled children.

ALECTO lingers behind as amycus enters the room where the weasley is kept, falling into her own role. “did you find him? do you need me to come help?” her distant voice slips into the overlap of breathless apprehension and uncertain hope, the cadence of a rescuer watching for the return of the monster under the bed. languid are her movements as she paces, wand tapping across knuckles. “you have to be quick!”

if foreboding was a tight knot in the colum of a constricted throat earlier, it’s the cold tendrils wrapped tight around flesh now. solace would’ve been a warm blossom through limbs if PERCY wasn’t so brutally aware of who his supposed rescuers are : he’s no fool. the carrows’ faces have snarled up at him from posters since his days at the ministry, and a new wave of trepidity rolls right through a quaking, bound frame. ( as hard as he tries, there’s a buoyant little squeak from the backburner / “what if they’re here to help?” he’s many things but an idiot isn’t one, he knows that no good can come of the pantomime he’s found himself embroiled in. there’s nothing resembling hope in the scene that has begun to unfold. it’s strange, really : the brunt of percy’s heartache is borne of worry for the family he’s convinced he’ll leave behind. own mortal peril is LESS of a concern than their collective grief / he wishes, in these strange moments that he’s sure will be his last, that he could apologise to molly and arthur. sorry mum, sorry dad. you deserved better than this. )

“where am i?” he’ll try to amplify the modicum of bravery that’s set into his tongue, but it wavers / intonation gives way to distress and percy sounds like a fucking child, so far removed from his near-thirty years. “how long have i been gone?”

he’s more intelligent than they’ve given him credit for. there’s a spark of recognition in those wide, fearful eyes that couldn’t be DISGUISED if he had the forethought to try, and AMYCUS is almost colored impressed by it. the emotions rolling through him - terror, dread, uncertainty, grief - were so powerful in origin amycus had trusted in a cloud of doubt thrown over their faces, but percy weasley is not as much fool as the family name implied.

he casts a glance towards his sister, the sort they don’t need to couple with words ( it’s an old wives tale that all twins can communicate by thought, but the carrow twins are an old time terror, aren’t they ? two little children born to blood, lying awake in the dead of night and learning each other’s faces better than they knew their own ). it says he knows, even while the tiny smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips says, but we can work with that.

“you’re just outside of swindon,” he’s turned back to the other now and his expression is back to faux care, back to something that resembles genuine concern - all it misses, now, is the added note to a purposely trembled voice. amycus abandons this, now, going for confusion above flawless PERFORMANCE. “that isn’t a detail you need concern yourself with, percy,” long enough for the questions to start, yet not long enough for the printing presses to begin churning out the missing poster. amycus does not make a show of dropping the facade, once and for all : it is simply there, and then not. “the question is how much longer you have to stay.”

the hope in his voice gives way to an ill impersonation of courage, and ALECTO finds that it sounds little more than that of a child’s mettle. her brother looks to her and she reacts with a quirk of her brow, a casual cant of her head. ( he does? how boring. ) when she steps from the penumbra cast by the empty, unlit room she was waiting in prior, she looks a touch uncanny, with cheeks just a bit too hollow and pallid skin just south of a typical color since leaving azkaban. almost normal, if not for the little things. “quite ugly place, really. don’t know why anyone would wish to come here.” words border a taunt, an almost cloying thing on her tongue. only a matter of time before they figure him gone, and she’s called to work. certainly just enough of it to begin pulling at threads, to the start of unraveling it all. she takes a step or two forward, and it’s like she clisk into something, a return to herself maybe, when she falls into place next to amycus. she plays off of him. “and how long it’s going to take your family to notice. any guesses? no?”

it comes and goes in waves : the startling clarity that chills him right to the bone ( i am going to die at their hands i am going to die here i am going to be another tragedy upon the family name oh god mum i’m so sorry i’m so sorry- ), and then the hysteria that crowds his throat, makes him want to laugh in sheer delirium. it is altogether surreal, to feel your pulse running cold one minute and chruning something intemperate in your ears the next / PERCY weasley, alone with the carrows. fate has a funny way of rolling the dice, only to leave you stinging when you lose.

“what do you want?” ( an altogether practical question / percy’s never been one to sit around, wait it out. their histrionics do nothing for a choleric captive ; not when blood is still running thick rivulets down palms of his hands, when he’s bitton so hard at a lower lip that it too glistens crimson. there is a trace of it on his canines. he doesn’t know. ) “i don’t have anything you’re looking for, i swear.”

AMYCUS is a predator circling prey as he moves further into the room and closer, still, to percy. alecto joins him and only near to his sister does he feel - in an odd way, confident enough - to crouch at the others level. "don't insult yourself or our intelligence," it's funny, the contrast : his expression is cold but his voice is almost velveteen, low & warm & in any other setting, any other situation, nice.

"you aren't the only person with the information that we need, percy. you're here because ronald and ginevra aren't, but don't doubt in our willingness to abandon you here, alone, and finally introduce ourselves properly to your brother... or reunite, with your sister." he smiled. again : pleasantly. if not for the context of carrow, amycus would be nothing more than a professor expressing interest in catching up with an old student. "i promise that you don't want that to happen, and to stop it, all you have to do is tell us what we want to know."

pulse throbs something fierce behind eyelids, violent underneath the sacrum of his throat, helpless in the way he cannot move. “don’t you dare touch them. don’t you dare.” ( his heart beats a little faster at the mere mention of younger siblings. all those years spent chastising, picking at them, far too overprotective and never as kind as he should’ve been : symptomatic of a love that doesn’t know vernacular confines, that only knows the kind of rage that builds an inferno behind gritted teeth when they’re referenced like that. ) clever wizard that he is, PERCY can only kick out ; nearly loses his balance, almost topples his little prison over. it’s an adrenaline rush he needs / the kickstart he needs to spit another falsehood like a loose, bloodied tooth.

“i told you, i don’t know what you want.” and to some extent, he doesn’t : captor keeps mentioning information that he doesn’t understand. “nobody told me anything.” feigned reticence suits him ; percy makes a wonderful liar, all bruises and swollen despite the way lies make his stomach twist into sailor’s knots.

there’s a roll of dark irses, a testament to patience lost during her time in azkaban. “you’re right, how can you be so sure you don’t know without us even asking?” cadence borders something sing-songy, something sweet enough to rot. long strides bring her around his chair, where hands push down on the back, balancing what he had almost thrown askew. the legs are strident when they return to hardwood floor. percy’s boxed in by them both, now, and though wands aren’t drawn, they don’t need to be to prove a point. “it’s easy, percy. where is harry potter? his body, his things...” ALECTO paints an almost innocent picture with wide eyes and relaxed posture as she lingers over his shoulder. “and a little tip --- we don’t take too well to being lied to. my ideal day may not be spending time with the most boring, self righteous weasley, but like amycus said, we can just as easily go to one of the other, hm, is it six of you now?”

and the thing is, every fivre of an aching being is straining against this ! the hard line of a jaw is stiff with muscle, and yet it happens anyway : in light of alecto carrow lingering over his shoulder, circling like a vulture, PERCY laughs. it’s entirely humourless, dry and barked into atmosphere so tense you could carve it, but it happens. ( for what it’s worth he regrets it immediately / urge to be violently sick follows it, but he’s able to swallow that one down. )

“you think they told me where his body was? jesus fucking christ,” ( muggle london has fouled up that mouth --- ) “you can’t possible think they told me that.” hysteria is a slow bloom that’s spreading through blood and bone alike, deadly in the way it seems determined to swallow him whole. “every bit as fucking daft as she is, you two, thinking they told me anything. fuck.”

percy knows the price, knows it intimately before he’s even spoken. you don’t leave something like this unscathed, something like this without the battle scars to prove it. he knows, deep in marrow, that he isn’t leaving this alive. shaking, terrified, quaking with nothing but sheer fury, he steels himself for the bloe before it even arrives. this is what happens when you lie, when you laugh. this is what happens, and so it goes.

the carrow twins move deliberately. they move as one. where one pushes the other pulls ( like opposing magnets, still connected in some indescribable way ), always compensating for the other on little more than blood instinct. alecto crosses to steady percy and amycus - in what is almost bored glory - rises, only then, to his full height. she leans left, he takes a step right. she focuses upon their charge, AMYCUS allows his attention to float. he undoes the buttons of his sleeves, both rolled up slowly to expose arms that are mottled by stark white scars & marred by one recognisable tattoo.

"percy, percy, percy," he clucked his tongue, caught between chilling disapproval & aching disappointment. there's a reason that he keeps using his name, as if they're old friends caught in something neither can control : a power to claiming it, an added threat. "we already know of the boys connection to your blood traitorous family. all those summers spent under the same roof, one more child for your overworked mother to wrangle... of course you know where he is. your family loved him."

"i'm sorry, percy. i know you'll tell us what we want to hear-" he sighs. gaze flickers towards his sister, an almost imperceptible jut of his chin given to urge her to stand away from the seated boy, and from his back pocket is pulled a wand that is, even without brandishing, a threat. "but we did tell you not to lie." the striking of a snake : predator meet prey.

with the reverent uttering of "crucio," amycus' wand slashes downwards.

#nox.important #nox.event009 #i do love .......... fun <3 #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #yes i will advertise via this . this event SLAPS

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