#i like the look of the white shoes but echo already has that exact kind of shoe except bird so maybe i shouldnt just. reuse that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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raggaraddy · 3 years

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hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you.

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

#bts #yandere #jung hoseok #j hope bts #yandere hoseok #yandere hobi #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts scenarios #bts fan fiction #bts requests #bts reactions #vampire! jhope #vampire! bts #bangtan reaction #bangtan fanfic

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rarephloxes · 3 years

Text

@lucienvanserraweek, free day!

I’m so happy to announce that this is a collab with my dear friend @ratabrasileira!!! Go show the beautiful drawing she did some love!!

rating: G

words: 2.2k

Elain searches the woods for flowers and finds more than she ever expected. Sleeping Beauty Au

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Elain left the cottage barefooted, the soft cushion of the grass comfortable and well known to her feet. The familiar and gratifying feeling of calm earth beneath her, steady and grounding, more than enough reason to forego any sort of shoes.

Roses, Feyre had chanted, the dreamy look in her sister’s eyes persisting ever since her chance encounter with a newcomer guard at the town square, the prettiest ones you can find, please?

Elain had not the courage to tell her younger sister that she had picked fresh flowers just the day before, funny-shaped pink blooms Elain found at the lip of the stream near the border.

So, she had picked her basket - the one Nesta had gifted her on her last birthday, handmade by her older sister herself; a beautiful, intricate thing done with the hard-earned love of the hardest Archeron - and left, a spring to her step and a tune brimming in her throat.

The woods, the townspeople said, were older than the village by unaccounted years, and therefore filled with deep, wondrous and dangerous magic.

Elain, as well as her sisters, was orphaned too soon. A wasting sickness that had scourged their village had taken away both of her parents, one after the other, leaving only a nearly of age Nesta, a doe-eyed Elain, and a tear-stained Feyre.

Many years had passed since, the nebulous, all-consuming pain of the absence of their parents soothed by time. Despite her grieving, it never escaped Elain’s thoughts how lucky she was to have such wonderful people in her life: her kind neighbors; the quaint, energized people of the village, who never missed a chance for celebration; the old grouch at the square who made wooden figures just as her father once had; Feyre’s laugh, her creativity and Nesta’s attentive strength.

The woods, magical and mysterious, were a source of peace in Elain’s little life, too. A balm made of soft sunlight, fresh, perfumed breeze, and the singing quietness of wildlife.

She walked, shawl hanging on her elbows to ward off the slightest of spring chills. Elain sang to her heart’s content, a lively lyric dancing on her tongue and bouncing on the leaves of the tallest of trees, her heart soaring with each note she presented to her loved woodland.

With Feyre’s wishes in mind, Elain followed a path towards a grove, the humidity at her destination perfect for the birth of deep pink roses which best complimented Feyre’s complexion.

She crossed the sturdy old bridge that allowed passage over the river, her cottage’s mill no longer audible from where she stood.

“Hello, Mister,” Elain greeted the white, wild bunny, its twitching mustache smelling the air twice before hurrying on fast jumps towards her, a cupped palm of berries awaiting the animal’s eager mouth, allowing her to scratch its head “You’re rather famished this morning, aren’t you?” she asked. The bunny agreed with what seemed like and affirmative ear twitch before her furry friend scampered away to a nearby bush.

Then, singing about poets and kings, Elain continued her path through the meandering trees, her basket filling with dark, juicy berries - a few of them already staining her lips red - and multicolored flowers.

A bold, red little bird landed on Elain’s extended finger and enchantingly sung with her. Its melodic chirping lacing and harmonizing to the girl’s sweet voice, their impromptu duet accompanied by the rustling leaves and the gurgling stream.

How wonderful Elain felt, surrounded by nature, connecting to the air around her as if it had birthed her itself, offering it her voice. Respectfully reaping the charming flora, she found on her way, breathing their scent, befriending the forest animals, and spinning on the tip of her toes on the soft soil.

As she stopped dancing, her skirts still swishing around her calves from the last of her twirls, Elain noticed a magnificent shrub of the blooms she had braved the woods for, jewel-bright pink petals shining under sunbeams, as if the tress had organized themselves to create a spot of light for such earthly beauty.

Right then, the strangest of things happened.

With her heart jumping to her throat, beating frenetically against her ribs, Elain noticed a beautiful horse. Saddled, with a gleaming chestnut coat, dark eyes downcast, calmly munching on the grass near its hooves.

It wasn’t unheard of, horses in the woods, wild or otherwise, they were not far from the main road, but that was not what made Elain’s skin prickle with alertness.

A well-taken care horse as such must have a rider nearby.

“Samson,” called a male voice “There’s not much left to go.” The horse shuffled his legs, huffing before turning its nose away, back onto the moss.

“There will be carrots,” the voice tried again, with a tone of simulated indifference.

Caught like a fish on a hook, the horse’s great neck snapped up, looking at its rider, as if expecting the vegetable all at once. Stoic as the pair of them seemed, Elain had the impression Samson was kindly spoiled.

Elain, who could hear the rich sound of the stranger’s voice, had not yet distinguished his form in the shade beyond the grove she entered, but following the stallion’s gaze she finally sighted him.

Oh, but what a beautiful man he was.

Stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, with an old, silvery scar marking the side of his face, slitting his brow and narrowly missing his eye - which seemed to be a disconcerting shade of brown. He had the most vibrant shade of red hair she has ever seen, dark like autumn leaves and silky like water.

He was the most beautiful human she has ever seen.

Stranger, however, had yet to notice her.

And as handsome as he was, Elain was clever enough to realize that a quick, silent escape was the safest option.

Slowly, she walked one step back.

The crunch of the branch beneath her foot echoed loudly, too loudly to be confounded by an innocuous wildlife sound.

Elain couldn't raise her eyes to look at him, attention glued to the sword holstered at his hip.

“Be not afraid, lady. I’ll take my leave in a moment,” Stranger said in a placating tone, palms deliberately upraised for her benefit.

The woods turned to music at the exact moment their eyes met.

A world-altering spark of recognition lighted in her mind.

A stranger in the woods, merry music, dancing fireflies, and singing birds, trees being led by the wind as if women in a ballroom, her vision spinning, and her body lighting up like fireworks. A hand on her waist, a choreography her body must have been made for performing, such ease it was to allow it to guide her away.

Dreams, she remembered, wonderful dreams which always kept her under her covers for a moment too long, always ending way too soon, leaving longing as a dent in her pillow.

Now he was right in front of her.

“I know you,” she whispered, words slipping through her lips like birds escaping a cage, her hands shaking.

He was dressed in well-made traveling clothes, dark pants, finely done knee-length boots she had only ever glanced upon whenever wealthier people crossed the town to check on their local businesses, but those deftly dressed gentlemen couldn’t have looked better than the man even with the priciest of fineries. Elain resisted the urge to press her hands to her cheeks, heated and pink from noticing Stranger only wore a thin, unruffled poet’s shirt, - his cape and hat using the nearby trees as hangers - its open laces revealing golden skin and wisps of red hair.

Elain had never felt self-conscious of her looks or clothes, the townspeople dressing similarly to her (even if Elain herself had one of the best sewing hands in their village). Her current outfit was a simple corset with boning made out of prepped hedgehog spikes, the plain fabric embellished with neat seams and picturesque figures Elain had stitched herself; a brown, light skirt - easy to wash and easier to hide soil stains - and, what now she deemed absurd due to the grime on her nails, no slippers.

“And I, you,” he answered as in a daze, hands falling limply at his sides.

“Do you hear it?” Elain made her voice firm, lifting he chin but with her knees slightly bent, ready to run.

“Yes, my lady,” he took a step, then two, until a stretch of his arm would land his hand on her shoulder.

But he didn’t move to touch her.

Elain swallowed, the breeze cooling her body, eyes downcast, legs now motionless and nearly failing her.

“Why won’t you let me see your eyes, my lady?” She couldn’t be sure, for she knew him not, but there was pleading in his tone.

“I’m afraid, my lord, that if I look at you, I’ll awake and leave this dream,” she whispered, surprised, but not fearful, of her words. “And you’ll fly away from my grasp,”

Suddenly shy of her newly found boldness, she turned her back to him.

“I’m-" She started, voice small.

“No, please.” Elain saw a shadow over her shoulder but wouldn’t dare to guess. “Forgive me for my requests, my lady, you need not give me anything, I-”

He sounded... embarrassed.

She found it endearing.

The song of the woods shifted to a village rhythm she knew well.

“Dance with me,” he called.

A gasp fell freely from her mouth, the ghost of a touch on her hand.

Slowly, she turned back to face him and realized her mistake.

His eyes were not brown, but a vibrant russet shade, complimenting his hair better. Elain had heard only the continent bred humans with the most varied and colorful bodies.

“I forgive you,” she mouthed, her throat no longer functional.

There were callouses on his palms if from holding reins or sword fighting, she couldn’t determine, but they were so gentle against her skin she barely put any mind to it.

A blast of sound surrounded them, as if the song recognized their meeting, rejoicing in their movements, magnifying their volume to ensconce the pair of them in a cloud of magic. Elain allowed her stranger to spin and lead her in the dance of her dreams.

She couldn’t help to laugh and smile and giggle as they swayed in impossibly rehearsed arrangements, his wide, carefree, delighted grin pouring sunshine into her chest.

Time turned to a growing bloom, following the natural, slow, unpreoccupied pace of life. A hundred dances thrummed with them while the small pointer of the square clock circled once.

At that time, the resounding, deep clang of the church’s bell chiming twelve times broke through the magic steering the couple.

Elain ceased her steps, the pang of reality downing on her face, awareness washing the enchanted fog in her mind.

She let go of Stranger’s hand, the melodies dimming to a quiet hum, tempting her as a distance siren song,

“I must go,” she told him, yet unable to move.

“So soon?” he asked earnestly, arms lovingly tightening around her waist, not caging, only a gentle embrace.

“Oh, please, I must have my leave. Your lordship certainly has somewhere to be. I don’t even know what to call you-“ she babbled in a rush.

Stranger pressed his nose to the sliver of skin above her neck line, as if he couldn’t help himself, as if she were a saint and he a devotee. Elain lost the breath in her lungs, head lulling back, her words cutting themselves short.

“It’s yours,” his lips brushed the slope of her neck, “My name, my heart, my soul. It’s all yours. I’m Luc-“

Hurriedly, Elain lifted his head and pressed her pointer and middle finger to his mouth, “You must not tell me your name,”

“I heard your voice,” he admitted, a portrait of hope in his face, gently grasping her wrist “I deviated from the road to look for the angel whose song I was lucky to listen. But the singing stopped, as it was never there in the first place,”

“The woods have a mind of their own” she whispered to herself, eyes roaming around as if searching.

“I found you once I let Samson rest for a moment,” he continued, uninterrupted, as though afraid she would vanish in a poof of light.

“Please, my lady. Can’t you see? One is never to deny a gift from the Gods,”

“Are you a believer, Stranger?”

“Now, I am,” he said, his gaze unfaltering, “Will you allow me to reveal my name to your Ladyship?”

“I’m no lady,” she said, taking her hand from the warmth of his, regretting it immediately, “I must have my leave,” How would she explain her tardiness to Nesta? Oh, how reckless she was acting.

“At least allow me to take you to your home, my lady,”

Elain knew deep in her gut as clearly as she knew the color of the sky and the name of her favorite flowers that he would never hurt her.

But her oldest sister warning echoed in her conscience, coiling its limbs around her, refraining her voice.

The universe, it seemed, understood her decision.

Samson let out a loud neigh, attracting her love’s attention for just long enough.

“I’ll see you in my dreams,” she promised as he turned around to watch his horse.

And ran away, deep into the woods.

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Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments make my day.

Special thanks to @moononastring and @silvergriff for hosting this awesome event, @separatist-apologist for being the kindest and most considerate beta reader I could ever hope for.

I’m building a tag list! If you want to keep up with my writing, let me know :))

I may or may not continue this? I really want to mesh this with a bunch of other ideas I have on my notes!!

#elucien #lucien vanserra week #lucien vanserra headcanons #lucien spell cleaver #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien fanfic #elucie fic #elucien fanfiction #acotar #sleeping beauty

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linsallyworld · 3 years

Note

for the prompts 😗

Fluffy 5

NSFW 24

👉🏻👈🏻

This turned out a lot softer than I intended ... I'm just an idiot for soft kyalin so I'm sorry

Fluffy 5. "I might have slept with your robe when you were gone." and NSFW 24. "Don't talk, just spread your legs."

Lin didn't normally leave Republic City. The city needed her just like anyone needed to breathe, when she left, everything seemed to stop somehow. However, the Creeping Crystals were crossing out of the city, which led Lin to stay on an operation for 3 long days. Sleeping in inns, stakeouts and conversations in walk talks. In the end it turned out that the smuggling was just jewelry and not weapons like Lin thought. No less worrying, but even better than triads being over-armed.

When she opens the door to her apartment in the night of the fourth day out, after an afternoon of reading every report of each stolen jewel, she can only breathe relieved by the smell of home. She streches her neck and bends the metal of her belt and boots so that they connect with the wardrobe in the living room and then the top of her uniform. Her bare feet on the cold stone of the apartment are a blessing, Lin hated shoes so much she couldn't even put it into words. The police chief stretches out her arms while looking at her apartment, there are no lights on, or anything in the kitchen. Just dark green curtains and black leather furniture scattered around the living room. Kya was probably on the air temple island while she was out of town. She didn't blame her, the apartment could be a little creppy for someone from the water tribe alone.

A decent bath and her bed would be great. These are the only things that cross Lin's mind as her steps lead her to the main bedroom.

She smells her before she sees her. Kya smells like the ocean itself and a sweet touch, like honey. It was the smell that soothed Lin's nerves and she would recognize it anywhere. Just her smell, entering her nostrils, leaving her head confused.

She pushed the door, slowly and then entered with her body. She rested her eyes on the bed and immediately a pathetic smile took her mouth, a smile no one will ever see, except for her. Kya was sprawled on the big bed, white hair contrasting perfectly with the black silk sheets, she was wearing ... Lin's robe? The earthbender frowned, but she had to admit that the gold and green fabric looked beautiful on Kya's chocolate skin. One of her legs badly covered, the way the fabric seemed to embrace her shape so well. She was beautiful dressed in anything, including nothing. The police chief came over to brush her hair out of her face before placing a kiss on her hot forehead. The waterbender moves under her touch, but she doesn't wake up and Lin breathes in her scent once more before walking to the bathroom.

"Lin?" The voice stops her halfway. Kya is moving on the sheets. Lin turns around and there is an affectionate smile on her mouth when her eyes meet the waterbender's, they seem to glow blue even in the half-darkness of the room. That gleam in Lin's eyes ... It only appeared for Kya.

"Hey, thief." The healer frowns for a brief moment. Lin points to what she is wearing and her eyes fall on her body. Kya laughs.

"Ah this." She runs her fingers along the tips. "I might have slept with your robe when you were gone." Lin's eyebrows become more pronounced as she approaches the bed. Her eyes never left Kya's, not even for a second.

"Did you sleep here? All these days?" Kya nodded, getting on her knees on the bed to crawl to the edge. Her hands almost instinctively wrapped around Lin's waist, bringing her close enough until there was no distance between their bodies.

"Why?" Lin's question sounds low as the waterbender looks her in the eye. Fun shining on hers.

"It smells like you here." She replies simply, playing with Lin's top hem. Fingers up and down the defined muscles of the other woman's abdomen.

"And you decided to steal my robe because it smells like me too. Am I right?" Kya holds her lower lip between her teeth before nodding. Her hands go up to fingering Lin's shoulders and the earthbender closes her eyes, just feeling her hands work on her. It was good to be home.

"I hope it doesn't get me in trouble with my police chief." Lin's eyes seem to light up and Kya has to hold on to not involve her.

"The sentence for stealing is 1 month in prison or bail." A sigh leaves Kya's mouth as she watches that sharp jaw. It's so easy for Lin to get her out of any other thought than just her.

"What about the operation?" The waterbender's tone is low, as if the slightest disturbance could break that moment.

"It went well." Lin bent her head to the touch of her fingers on her cheek. "Smuggling jewelry. We managed to recover most of them." The healer purrs in agreement and the sound makes Lin's legs fail a little weak. Kya knows that.

"My girlfriend is so important." She murmurs, her fingers caressing that spot on the back of Lin's neck that makes her a little unsteady. The earthbender's hands wrap her, calluses and muscles against the smooth fabric of the robe. The word girlfriend still echoes in police chief's head, she likes to hear that word, she loves when Kya calls her that. "It's so sexy." She leans over, just enough to meet Lin's neck with her mouth, a more than delicate kiss is placed there and Lin shudders.

It's been 5 days. She has an excuse.

Kya's smell. Kya's breasts pressed against her chest. The way Kya's lips feel when they touch her skin. It's too much. Lin was overstimulated with just the simplest things. It was so simple for Kya. It always have been.

Kya's lips hover over hers, as if she is daring her to kiss her first. This woman ... Lin takes a deep breath. Trying to get air into the brain, it doesn't work.

"I missed you, you know?" Kya slides the index finger along the curve of Lin's nose, the slightly parted lips and then through the firm jaw. "I slept in this robe thinking it was you ... But then I woke up and you weren't there." She pouts and Lin can only say it’s adorable.

"I missed you too." She whispers. More than she could put into words. She only thought about Kya when she was away, every smile, every word, every curve her body made. The waterbender's eyes shine and it looks like Lin just gave her the best gift she ever received.

"So why aren't you kissing me yet, chief?" The smile that rises at the corners of her mouth is provocative, slightly mocking. She knows what that kind of smile does to Lin's body. She knows that the earthbender is as hungry for her touch as she has never been for anything else in the world.

She ponders for a minute. Just a minute. And then she leans down, her lips falling on Kya's as if it's the first time she's done this. Her mouth felt like a beautiful paradise to lose, it was warm, inviting and with a sweet taste. She seemed to fit so well against her body. There was no one like Kya.

Lin didn't hesitate before sliding her tongue into her lips and the waterbender murmured in approval. The sound sent a painful shiver down the back of Lin's spine and she tightened her arms around the healer's body, feeling her long fingers press the pulse points on her neck, just slightly, just enough for the exact amount of blood disappear and Lin's mind swam.

The earthbender bent down a little to find the hem of the robe, running her fingers up Kya's thighs, trying to find another piece of fabric. She grabbed the waterbender's hip with her fingers and she would have widened her eyes ... Because there was nothing there.

Kya ... Kya was wearing her robe. And only her robe. The blood started to rise to Lin's head very quickly, not even Kya's small squeeze in her throat preventing her senses from becoming completely alert. The waterbender separated her mouth just enough to chuckle.

"You didn't think that sleeping was the only thing I did with this robe, did you?" The image of Kya with her fingers tightened inside her, red cheeks, hardened breasts and sheets stained with her fluids. Lin's fingers started to shake around Kya's hips in sheer anticipation. "I moaned your name." She whispered, her voice lifting every hair on the back of Lin's neck and forcing her to close her eyes. "I moaned your name every night, Lin." She drags her name on her tongue, as if she were actually moaning and the earthbender's inner muscles tighten. Spirits. "You know ..." Lin stops her from speaking, her hands push Kya, the movement is slow, but the grip is strong enough to make the waterbender's body shiver.

"Don't talk, just spread your legs." Her voice is hoarse, her chest rises and falls with deep breaths and the knowledge that this is for her. Lin is panting just at the thought of fucking her. Kya's fingers are unstable when she unties the robe's belt to reveal the skin beneath it. Lin's eyes are bright, bright green, but now they look darker than usual. They are obscure. Kya would be afraid of that look if she wasn't just focused on making her feel good.

Lin loved Kya's thighs. Of course she loved the whole waterbender's body, but her thighs ... Those thighs were the earthbender's own paradise. Her fingers gently slide over her skin, feeling the soft heat that Kya radiates. She would spend a life just worshiping Kya's body, for sure.

The waterbender opens her legs for her almost instinctively and Lin swallows.

"Fuck." She whispers.

"I think that is precisely the point." The healer replies, even though Lin's voice saying "fuck" makes her internal muscles tighten up hard enough to make her start panting. The earthbender raises an eyebrow before sliding her fingers through her. Kya shakes. A smirk goes up into Lin's mouth as she brings her own fingers to her mouth, Kya's taste. She avoids shaking on her own.

It tastes so good.

"Lin." It's just her name. But the way Kya says it, the way her chest is already rising and falling with difficulty, her cheeks slightly flushed. Lin wants to make her come so much now it hurts.

She leans over, just enough to put an indecent kiss on Kya's mouth. The other woman leans towards her, as if she needed her touch as much as Lin needed to touch her. The police chief's lips travel down her chest, through her ribs, her stomach, to the point she wanted. She looked at the waterbender, before sinking her fingers into her thighs and her mouth falling on her.

It's Lin's name that fell out of Kya's mouth, again. Her hips lifted from the bed with the simple touch of Lin's lips against her. The earthbender appreciates the power she has over her, she slides her tongue over her again and that's when she feels the sting on her scalp. Kya's fingers sinking into her hair. The thought she needed it so much, she needed so badly for her to make her come... Lin pulled a hand away to sink two fingers on her.

Kya cursed out loud and it made Lin mumble as she opened her mouth to suck on her. Her legs are shaking around her, pride is shining in Lin her, but also need. She pulls her fingers to slip them again, the movements are calculated and smooth. Just enough to maker her want more.

The waterbender is panting. Just the image of Lin between her legs, her mouth on her, her fingers on her. It's devotion. She thinks. It must be devotion. Her fingers tighten against her head.

"Lin." She moans again, she is asking. Lin knows. She know every tone of Kya's voice, she knows when she wants it deeper and stronger even when she doesn't say it.

Lin's fingers increase the intensity of the thrusts, she knows Kya will not need much. It's been 5 days.

She looks up. Her mouth still wrapped around her bundle of nerves, fingers sunk into her. Just her eyes. It's everything the waterbender needs. She feels all the heat build up in her belly and then release. Kya's head drops to the nearest pillow when the orgasm hits her hard enough to make her senses unstable. Lin moved her fingers a few more times, just to prolong her pleasure. She puts a gentle kiss in her inner thighs before lifting herself over her body, kissing her belly and between her breasts and then returning to her eyes. It's devotion.

Kya touches her face, fingers gently pulling her by the cheeks to her lips. Her own taste is in Lin's mouth makes her murmur on the earthbender's lips, opening her mouth to taste her even more.

She is not stronger, but it's easy to push Lin by the shoulders to mount her hips because she's not fighting. She would never fight against Kya's touch again.

"You just made a thief come, chief Beifong." Lin's eyes light up and Kya laughs when she leans over to her, her mouth hovering over her lips. "Let's see if I can reduce my sentence."

#kyalin #kya ii #lin beifong #avatar the legend of korra #tlok #fanfic #prompt #smut #fluffy #soft #kyaxlin

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nonstoplover · 3 years

Text

happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley

summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.

pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader

words: 5K

meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'

(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write

a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx

my masterlist

(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.

What the hell?

She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.

Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.

In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.

"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.

And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.

- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -

Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.

She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.

After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.

"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."

If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?

Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.

So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.

And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.

As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.

She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.

Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.

Friday the 13th.

Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.

- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -

The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.

"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.

She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.

"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.

And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.

"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.

"My family home."

The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.

- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.

Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.

Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.

"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.

His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.

Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.

The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.

He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.

From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.

- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.

"You broke your leg."

"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.

"Mu... a what?"

"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.

"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"

"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.

"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."

"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."

"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.

- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -

"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.

Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.

"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.

"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.

(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.

"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.

All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.

She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.

The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.

As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."

"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."

"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."

"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."

"Is it though?"

"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.

"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."

(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.

The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.

"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."

The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.

(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.

"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.

"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.

Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.

All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.

In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.

"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."

"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.

"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.

Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.

The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.

Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.

"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.

This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.

"Can we meet again?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?

"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.

The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.

When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.

Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.

She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.

"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.

And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.

.::the end::.

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ stuck ❞ l.dh

request → “Hi~ I'm absolutely in love with your work. It makes me so soft uwu. I was wondering if you could write a Haechan one similar to the roommate Jeno one you wrote. About what it's like to just live with him” —@demiwizardstay

pairing → demon!haechan, reader, guardianangel!mark

word count → 4.5k

a/n → whoops i made this into a demon!haechan au hahaha sorry i hope this is domestic enough for u tho :D

your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

there’s no other reasonable explanation.

on the other hand, the shadow splayed out ever so comfortably on your couch seems to be very real. it must be just as aware of your presence as you are of its but to your surprise, it isn’t telling you to put your hands where it can see them or demanding to know where all your most valuable items are. it sits there, peacefully as if it owns the place. for a split second you consider the possibility that you walked into the wrong apartment but the key in your hand reminds you that the situation you are in is not your fault in any way.

“so... are you gonna scream or just stand there?”

the figure’s voice is unmistakably masculine and drips with sass. you know you should feel scared. your heart should be pounding as your shaky fingers dial 911 and you hysterically report an intruder to the authorities and beg them to come fast. however, it seems that this stranger’s calm aura has rubbed off on you as you respond with an equally as unbothered tone.

“well, i would appreciate it if you invited me in.” you pause. “oh wait, it’s my apartment.”

with that, you step inside and go about your regular routine with a calmness you didn’t know you possessed; especially when there was an… unwelcome visitor lounging on your sofa. despite that, you kick off your shoes and toss your jacket somewhere on the floor like you normally would. you twirl your keys around your fingers as you go to turn to flick on the light switch. it rids you of the darkness that had settled upon your apartment and the stranger is completely revealed to you.

the first thing you notice about them is their sun kissed skin that’s littered in the freckles you would compare to the most captivating constellation. although, the stranger’s flawless complexion is the least of your worries considering the two horns that peek out from underneath their tufts of brunette hair.

you physically restrain yourself from asking for his skin routine and instead opt for yet another sarcastic comment. “all ready for halloween, i see.” your eyes lock onto the appendages, choosing to ignore how realistic they were. “was party city having a sale?”

your comment seems to get your uninvited guest out of his daze as he scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“hey, this is my place, i ask the questions,” you scold.

he ignores you, instead going to tug on his horns. “these are all real, baby.”

you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him, waiting for him burst into laughter and tell you it was all a prank. instead, his unfaltering smug gaze pierces into you. you swear you stop breathing when his eyes flash bright red for a second.

“alright, you can tell the camera crew to come on out.” you glance around hoping this really was just some sort of hidden camera–practical joke type of thing. you half expect ashton kutcher jump out and tell you that you had gotten punk'd but you’re never granted that privilege. your eyes end up back on the boy lounging on your sofa and he returns the stare, eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a smirk.

it was almost… devilish.

“oh my god.”

“not quite.” he finally stands, stretching his limbs out without a care in the world. “wanna try again?”

you stay silent, mouth slightly agape. there was only one other explanation.

he’s satan. and he’s also in your living room. and the worst part was how undeniably hot he is.

you regret giving him the satisfaction of your stunned silence as it seems like that was the exact reaction he wanted. he laughs at your expression and it just sounds evil.

“alright, alright. i’ll tell you what i am. but only because you mortals are always so cute when you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared, you idiot,” you interject without a second thought. “i just didn’t know i’d be selling my soul today. it’s a total bummer. i’m so young, i still have so much to do. i never even got around to trying yoga with ryujin!”

the boy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “your soul? did i say i wanted your soul?”

“well, you’re like, satan right? isn’t that what you do?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m obviously a demon. satan is a loser who never leaves his fiery throne. which, by the way, isn’t as cool as it sounds. we’re not on the best terms at the moment.”

“so... you don’t want my soul?”

he shakes his head vigorously, looking disgusted at the mere idea of it. “what would i even do with it?”

“i don’t know. honestly i’m just going off of what i see in the movies.”

“that was your first mistake, baby.” he makes his way closer to you. “this isn’t the movies.”

“okay, back it up,” you say, attempting to put some distance between you and him.

he raises his hands in defeat as he obeys, retreating back to your couch.

“why are you here of all places? shouldn’t you be sipping on a piña colada with satan right now?”

he crosses his legs nonchalantly. “like i said, we aren’t on speaking terms. in fact, i’m kind of… banned.”

“banned?” you echo. “from where?”

“hell? duh.”

you scowl at his attitude. “it’s not my fault you’re on timeout.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “don’t call it that. it’s just a punishment.”

“same thing,” you say, making your way into the kitchen. you weren’t sure if leaving a demon unattended in your living room was the best idea but the initial shock had already worn off. besides, it seemed like he had been in your apartment for a while already. “what did you do anyway?”

“it’s not even that bad,” he grumbles.

“must have been if you got kicked out of hell.” you chuckle to yourself as you open up your pantry, looking for something to stuff your face with. “do you understand how bad you must be if even the devil himself can’t stand you?”

“i’m not bad, per se,” he says, picking at his nails. “just a little annoying.”

“no kidding,” you grumble to yourself, rummaging through your pantry, in pursuit of your favorite snack. you were sure everything would make more sense once you got some food in your system. when all you find is an empty, crumpled bag where your chips had once been, you whine loudly. “did you eat all my hot cheetos?”

“they reminded me of home!”

“i can see why they kicked you out,” you retort.

“listen, i get that this is an inconvenience—”

“that’s kind of an understatement.”

“but, this is the only place i can stay. turns out people freak out when you appear in their living rooms. you were the only one that didn’t.”

“yeah, people usually don’t take too kindly to that—hold on, did you say stay?”

he crosses his arms over his chest. “where else am i supposed to go?”

“anywhere but here.”

he gives you an unamused stare, his eyes glinting red once again.

“i mean, don’t you have any demon friends you can stay with?”

“not here. we avoid earth at all costs. it’s trashy. that’s why this is a punishment.”

not even you can argue with that. “understandable. well, how long are you gonna be here?”

“don’t know.”

you blink at him. “so… you’re planning to crash with me until satan decides to be your friend again?”

he groans. “first of all, he’s never been my friend. second of all, yes, that was the plan i had in mind when i broke into your house.”

“broke in?”

“well, actually i used teleportation powered by the dark arts to get in but i don’t think your tiny human brain is ready for that conversation.”

“and i don’t think it’d be in your best interest to insult the person you’re currently trying to move in with.”

that seems to shut him up, as he purses his lips together and stares at you blankly.

“listen, if we’re going to do this, there’s gotta be some ground rules, okay?”

he stays silent so you decide to continue.

“you have to pull your own weight around here. you might be some powerful being of the underworld but that doesn’t mean you get out of laundry day and doing dishes, got it?”

he seems displeased, if the frustrated huff of air he lets out is anything to go by.

“and you have to promise me that by staying here you aren’t putting me in any kind of danger.”

“well, i can’t guarantee i won’t cause problems,” he says, raking his fingers through the hair in between his sharpened horns. “but i can protect you from whatever crap comes our way.”

you contemplate it. you weren’t entirely sure what a demon like him was capable of but it seemed like it would be a list that was equally lengthy as it was impressive. yet, you still can’t bring yourself to agree to anything.

as if he senses your apprehensive nature, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his hazelnut eyes. you only get to admire the warm tint for a split second before his eyes flash red yet again. they stay glowing longer than any of the previous times; long enough for you to notice how shiny and bright they are, reminding you of ripe cherries.

“i promise.”

the tone of his voice is surprisingly firm and definitely the most serious you’ve heard him the entire night. he retreats his hand from you and you find yourself leaning forward, almost craving his touch. his eyes go back to their original hue and you feel yourself regain your senses.

“what did you just do?” you ask, leaning back from him. “what kind of dark magic was that?”

he tries to conceal his smile but ultimately fails, his pearly whites coming onto display. “that wasn’t magic, baby. i believe you just got lost in my eyes but don’t worry. i would too.”

you let out a bitter laugh. “oh my god, you’re vain.”

“do you mortals have to mention him every five seconds?” he chides, grimacing.

it takes you a moment to realize who he’s referring to but when you do, you erupt in laughter. “really? that gets to you? you’re pretty sensitive for a big and bad demon.”

“i have a name, baby.”

“so do i.”

his lips curve into a coy smile. “donghyuck.”

you give him your name in response, not even bothering to think about it twice, much to your surprise. most would probably be more hesitant to introduce themself to a demon, much less invite them into their home.

yet here you were, doing both.

he offers you nothing more than a grin—it seemed more genuine than the last—before turning on his heel to make his way farther into your apartment. “so, where will i be sleeping? i was thinking your bed would be ideal.”

“well, i was thinking you could start with a thank you,” you suggest, trailing after him.

he saunters down the hallway, twisting the knob of the door second to the left and peeking in. you can only imagine how much snooping around he had done before you had arrived, judging by the fact that he maneuvered your home so expertly.

he hums as he scans the room as if it’s the first time (which you’re sure it’s not). “it looks comfortable enough for the two of us.”

you can tell there’s no arguing with him, especially as he steps inside and sits himself on the edge of your bed, hands running over the soft fabric of your comforter. he bounces up and down a couple times, seeming satisfied enough with the mattress.

in the blink of an eye, he’s underneath the heaps of blankets, tucked in snuggly.

you exhale, trying to maintain patience. “i can tell this whole dark magic thing is going to be a problem for me.”

even though only his eyes peek out from beneath the polyester sheets, you’re positive he’s wearing an obnoxious smirk. his voice comes out slightly muffled when he answers, “think of it as a blessing, not a curse.”

“we’ll see.” you try to suppress a yawn but it manages to escape you, eyes squinting and your hand clamping over your mouth. “right now, i gotta sleep. hopefully i’ll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream.”

“so, what you’re implying is that i’m a dream?”

“i meant to say nightmare.”

“that’s more accurate.”

as if the dazed tone of his voice didn’t give his sleepiness away, donghyuck’s drowsy eyes and horns sinking into the soft plush of your pillow certainly did. he looked the least threatening right then and there and you decide that this is the donghyuck you like best. you can’t help the sudden urge you feel to curl up in bed right next to him and doze off into blissful unconsciousness.

“what are you waiting for? get in here.”

could demons read minds too? you can’t be bothered to think about it for another second before you take donghyuck’s very tempting offer and crawl into your bed. you don’t care that you’re not in your pajamas or that you smell like coffee beans, courtesy of the cafe you worked at.

all you can seem to focus on is the feeling of donghyuck’s soft breath against your neck and his oddly cute snores. it was ironic; a demon all cuddled up beside you, sleeping like a baby. you almost giggle at the striking comparison.

needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

“you know, it really pisses me off to come home and see you sitting in the exact same position you were in when i left.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, an expression he’s mastered over time. “what else am i supposed to do? you made it pretty clear that you hate my demonic rituals and that’s kind of my speciality.”

you shrug as you kick your shoes off upon entering your shared apartment. “i don’t know. but binging the entire marvel movie saga can’t possibly be healthy.”

“we don’t have this in hell!” donghyuck exclaims, gesturing to the television his eyes remained glued on.

“well, you should get used to life on earth considering you don’t know how long you’re gonna be stuck here.”

“i’m already on it. pop culture is actually really informative.”

“not what i meant. i was thinking more along the lines of a job.”

donghyuck finally tears his eyes away from the television to give you an unamused stare. “that’s really funny, y/n.”

“i’m serious! would it kill you to get off the sofa?”

“no. nothing would. i’m immortal, remember?”

you narrow your eyes. “oh yeah, almost forgot. you’re gonna be a bother to me forever and ever.”

“this isn’t the ideal situation for me either. but no need to torture me with low life mortal tasks.”

“bills gotta be paid, it’s a part of life,” you respond, taking a seat beside him. “or else we’ll both be breaking into people’s houses and begging them to move in.”

“i didn’t beg, alright? and i didn’t break in either! i simply... appeared.”

“that’s even worse.”

“you didn’t seem to mind when you were all snuggled into me this morning.”

donghyuck’s words paired with his taunting tone cause you to feel slightly warm but you ignore it for the sake of a comeback. “you seemed comfortable yourself because when my alarm for work went off your arm was pretty tight around me.”

you swear you see him pout for a moment. “that’s not my fault! there aren’t many people open to cuddling in hell! i was just… seizing the opportunity.”

“since you’re all about opportunities, you should really look into that job. remember what we agreed on? no slacking off.”

“i’m not! just look in the kitchen!”

you know whatever it is, you’re not prepared for it. nevertheless, you tiptoe to said area, hoping your roommate had simply followed instructions and done the dishes and swept. but, of course, that itself is too much to ask as you watch the sink overflow with suds, plates and silverware scrubbing themselves clean and floating into their respective cupboards. a broom dances across the tiled floor, dust flying everywhere. you find that the mess in your kitchen resembles a train wreck; you want to look away but you just can’t.

you call out to donghyuck, eyes still trained on the chaos before you, asking, “what did we say about rituals?”

“it’s a little more complicated than a ritual, baby!”

once you finally gather enough willpower to walk away from the kitchen and whatever is happening in it, you return to the living room, placing yourself in front of the television that donghyuck is so entranced in.

“you’re coming with me to work tomorrow, got it?”

donghyuck groans for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically hard. “fine. now, can you move? the avengers are about to fight thanos.”

you comply, retreating to your bedroom but not before shouting back, “iron man dies!”

you shut your door, donghyuck’s frustrated screeching still coming through loud and clear.

your phone alerts you that it’s 6 am by playing an alarm so loud donghyuck falls out of bed. comically enough, it’s the loud thump! that comes when donghyuck makes contact with the floor that really gets your eyes to flutter open. you peek over the edge of the bed, every bit of grogginess leaving your body the second you see your roommate tangled in your sheets, limbs sprawled on the ground.

“are you okay?” you ask, laughter lacing your words.

“doing just fine,” he mumbles in response. soon thereafter, his eyes shut once again.

“hey! no way are you going back to sleep, we have work!”

you drag yourself out of bed over to where donghyuck lays, attempting to resume his peaceful slumber. you grab his arms, attempting to hoist him up. you’re almost positive he’s making it more difficult than it should be as he lets his body go completely limp in your grasp. when you finally get him standing upright, he smiles lazily at you, obviously still half asleep.

“c’mon dork, you need to get ready. you’re gonna make some cash today!”

donghyuck makes it clear he understands nothing as the morning progresses.

he doesn’t get the importance of being on time or even working in the first place. he offers to just take out your landlord, which according to him will “solve all your problems”, more times than you count and you’re sure that if he mentions it one more time you’d actually consider it. he also claims he doesn’t understand the concept of a shower, asking you to help him out, yet the knowing smile on his face lets you know he’s more than well aware of what it entails. unfortunately, you realize this after spending more time than you’d care to admit explaining the concept of getting naked to him in a tight, confined space to him only for him to request a demonstration.

upon leaving your apartment, more new things are revealed to donghyuck. you can’t help but admire the wonder and awe in his eyes. the adoration quickly wears off when he throws a temper tantrum at the subway station, refusing to board it and you have to physically force him on and promise that no, he won’t get trapped inside.

despite the slight bumps in the road, you arrive at your shift with time to spare. the clock tells you that you won’t have to be behind the counter for another five minutes so you grab your apron and provide donghyuck with one too. you give him quite possibly the quickest tour of the cafe ever and explain to him over five times what you were there to do (“so, we just take people’s orders? we serve them?” “and they pay for it.” “just when i thought it couldn’t possibly get dumber”). you end putting him on cleaning duty since you were well aware of his lack of social skills. he frowns when you tell him he has to do it himself, no magic allowed. the last thing you needed was someone getting nearly knocked over by a levitating broom and bringing it to your manager’s attention. speaking of—

“good morning, y/n,” greets doyoung. his hair is slicked back and his eyes shine, as always. “always a pleasure to see you on your shift.”

donghyuck watches you cautiously, observing the way you smile nervously and avoid meeting doyoung’s eyes. he assumes he has some kind of authority over you.

“and hello there. who might you be?”

doyoung is now very aware of donghyuck’s presence, giving him a wide smile but a menacing stare. you don’t get a word out before donghyuck’s giving him a polite smile and nod of his head.

“i was just hired, y/n is showing me the ins and outs. i honestly could not be happier working under leaders like you, sir.”

doyoung hums, obviously enjoying donghyuck’s praise enough to let it blind him from the fact that you hadn’t even been hiring in the first place. “sir, huh? haven’t heard that one before.”

donghyuck holds his breath, wondering if he had overdone it.

“i like it. you seem like a hard working fellow. glad to have you on the team.” your boss gives him a firm pat on the back before walking away, probably to go scare some other employees.

donghyuck sticks his tongue out at him once his back is turned and you simply laugh, smile still present on your face when your first customer arrives.

“i’m here!”

you glance up from the cash register to catch your coworker rushing in, looking frazzled… as always.

“hey mark,” you greet, giving him a welcoming smile. “i’m so glad you’re here. there’s been this crazy demand for frappuccinos all day and you know i suck at those.”

mark chuckles as he ties on his apron. “no offense, but the only order you should be taking are the puppuccinos.”

you shoot him the most non-threatening glare possible which ends up with you bursting into a fit of laughter. “i’m not even gonna argue with that.”

“hypothetically, if i made doyoung’s coffee explode on him but made sure he didn’t know, would you be mad?”

you roll your eyes at donghyuck’s bold entrance yet you still giggle. “at this point, i say go for it. ooh, maybe we could even sneak out while he’s cleaning it up. what do you say, mark?”

where there would usually be a giddy laugh, there’s nothing but silence on your coworkers behalf. you put a pause on counting the money in the register to steal a glance at mark who’s eyes are dead set on donghyuck who also seems to be intensely focused on the blonde.

“demon,” mark mutters.

you feel yourself freeze up; how could he possibly know? despite the panic that settles upon you, you’re sure donghyuck will find a way to handle the situation. you expect a lie, maybe even some magic if the situation called for it. when you see his lips curve upwards sinisterly, you know you’re in for an entirely different outcome.

“angel.” there’s a teasing lilt in donghyuck’s voice; it sends chills up your spine.

mark’s jaw is clenched and you know he’s equally as tense as you are. “we should go, y/n.”

“mark, he’s just—”

“now.”

the sudden desperation yet dominance in mark’s tone is even more alarming than donghyuck’s.

“you know,” donghyuck begins, rounding the counter, dramatically. “i’ve never been a fan of the way guardian angels think they own their person.”

you swear your brain shuts down. there was no way you had come into contact with a demon and now an angel—your guardian angel. and there was definitely no way it was your closest coworker, right?

“it’s our responsibility—she is my responsibility.”

donghyuck folds his arms as he gives mark a once over. “you won’t mind if i take over, right?”

mark chuckles, begrudgingly. “you know i can’t let that happen.”

“i’m not hurting her, i’d never hurt her.” donghyuck takes his place next to you, wrapping an arm around you. he peers down at you, eyes glowing red for the first time since your first encounter. “my angel.”

you know the nickname is to piss mark off and you assume it works as you observe his hands clench into fists. although, you’re more focused on how the pet name effortlessly rolled off donghyuck’s tongue, like temptation itself.

“don’t make this difficult for yourself,” donghyuck continues. “you know feelings are dangerous. that’s what they tell you when you first sign up. just don’t let that get you into trouble, got it?”

the tension is suffocating and you almost wish a customer would enter the currently empty cafe to save you from it. although, donghyuck makes sure that you don’t have to endure it any longer as a second later, you’re both gone, only a cloud of red smoke left behind.

mark stands alone in the cafe.

he had gotten this job for you; to look after you.

perhaps he had caught feelings, as well.

he assumes that was his first mistake.

when donghyuck takes you back to your apartment, it seems the awkward atmosphere from the cafe has followed you home.

“uh, can i ask what that was all about?”

“that guy, mark was it? yeah, he’s your guardian angel. i can’t stand it when those guys act like they’re in charge of the person they’re sent to look after,” he seethes.

you watch donghyuck’s fit of frustration carefully, eyes wide. when he sees how confused you are he can’t help but sigh.

“i’m sorry, i just… didn’t appreciate him acting like you were his. guess i don’t really like the thought of that.”

you would have to be oblivious beyond compare to not realize donghyuck was completely and utterly jealous. you prod him further, asking, “well, then who would you rather i belong to?”

he glances up at you. “whoever you want, baby.”

“you know what? i think i have somebody in mind.”

not even a second later, donghyuck takes you back in the security of your bed, under your piles of fluffy blankets. what feels most comfortable (and strangely familiar) is the feeling of donghyuck’s arm clinging to you, making you sure you’re pressed right into his chest like a puzzle piece.

“the person you had in mind was me, right? ’cause if not, this might be awkward.”

your eyes roll back despite knowing he can’t see it. “no, it was mark.”

“not funny.”

your shoulders shake with laughter. “it’s a little funny.”

“whatever, keep laughing. just let me hold you, alright?”

“that would be heaven.” silence settles upon the both of you as you go into nearly hysterical laughter. “get it? because you’re a demon… from hell… and that’s like, the opposite—”

“yeah, i get it, baby.” he pauses. “how many more lame jokes surrounding me being a demon will i have to endure?”

“i definitely have more where that came from so my guess is... more than you can count.”

he moans in displeasure. “you’re lucky you’re cute… for a mortal.”

565 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

two tails | reader x minho |

Two

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, coworker!hyunjin, florist!jisung, punk!jisung (yeah boiiii), agedup!skz, slow burn, plot-driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food, passive body shaming

Word count: 5.5k (y e e t we love self indulgence)

Tagging: @lauraneuuh

Chapters

P | ONE | TWO | THREE

busybody noun

:an officious or inquisitive person.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There are a couple things that your mother is known for--or rather, a couple things that she has been deemed.

Mother, wife, friend, matriarch, socialite, unofficial event planner, gossip, show off, professional nagger, and, to certain people, bitch.

And yet, somehow your mother was intertwined with some of the most prominent circles within the city, and she knew everything about everyone’s business. Frankly, she often didn’t have anything better to to with her time. ” If she had any job at all, it would be calling you every weekend to give her opinions on your rather “less than auspicious” life choices.

To her, another one of your “less than auspicious” life choices had to do with the way that you had dressed yourself; however little sense this made.

Your mother sipped at her tea with dainty fingers, barely cracking with age due to her expensive hand creams.

“Quickly. Go get changed. We don’t have much more time and you’re dallying. It should fit you, just as long as you haven’t put on any more weight.” Her hawk-like gaze inspected your hips and thighs. “Hmm. I think you’ll be fine.”

Seungmin, where he sat on the couch with perfect posture tapped his feet up and down with discomfort.

I hate you for doing this to me, he glared at you with despair, hiding it behind the wide smile he performed for your mother.

“What? Do you not trust me to be alone with your friend here?”

Your best friend nervously chuckled out in that little puppy-like way that he would. “What? Ahh no, I’ll be fine, go on Y/n, I should be leaving soon anyway, I was just stopping by.”

Your mother’s eyes followed you up your staircase, watching for the very moment that you closed your bedroom door. The second you did, her snide voice hissed out loud whispers, undoubtedly drilling Seungmin about the usual questions: are you married, where do you live, what’s your profession, what does your family do etc.

The little metal zipper of the pencil skirt pinched your fingertips as you attacked it up your body. Once again, your mother had underestimated your clothing size. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes looking at the tags for the designer matching skirt and blazer ensemble. There was nothing in your mother’s life that didn’t denote the status that she “worked so hard for.”

In a way, you hated that you had done this to Seungmin as well. Initially you had thought that having some kind of male presence over when your mother arrived would deter her stabbing remarks about your singledom, but in fact, it has just made it worse. For once in your life, you just wanted to hold something over her. Now, you’d likely traumatized the best friend that you had.

You nearly slipped on the carpeted stairs in your nylon stockings on the way down, but held fast the the banister, looking a bit like some kind of sad, business-casual, plastic-looking prom queen.

Seungmin’s eyes widened seeing you in the toning skirt. Likely you knew that he must’ve been keeping his jokes to himself the very best that he could--you wouldn’t hear the end of it later.

“Wonderful. Let’s get going.” Your mother set down her teacup with a clink. “I’ve got some cosmetics in the car that you can use as well. We’ll be stopping off at the flower shop before we get to the venue. I’ve ordered an arrangement for the bride-to-be.”

“I feel like a China doll.” You muttered under your breath, catching a little laugh from your friend. Your eyes met as if to ask him if he was okay, which he rolled his eyes as his answer.

You put on the only pair of kitten heels that you owned: they were brown, banged up and the pleather was cracking a little at the edges. Of course, your mother let out an exasperated sigh upon seeing them.

“I’ll bring shoes next time.”

Seungmin politely opened the door for the both of you and the spring morning’s sun washed your face in it’s warmth. The morning was perfect: the exact kind of day that you would spend in your garden writing or reading on the single-person porch swing you had just installed. Dew still held to the Kelly green blades of grass and your cherry blossom tree bowed a little in the breeze.

“Well, it was nice meeting and speaking with you Seungmin--”

“--We’ve met before thou--”

“--You seem to be a strapping and organized young man. I do hope that you consider what we discussed.”

Seungmin appeared to flush a little, “I-I’ll think about it.”

You tugged at your friend’s shirt, pulling him in to whisper, “What the hell did she talk to you about?”

“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes fluttered around nervously. “She just kept going on about how she wanted me to--”

“--Oh, Y/n!”

From your mother’s surprised expression on the other side of the car, to the way that Seungmin stopped dead in his sentence, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

Your body turned around in slow-motion, hoping that this must have been some kind of nightmare, and that you hadn’t woken up that morning yet and were cozily still tucked in bed.

If it would have been socially acceptable, you would have hidden behind that car until he walked away, but it was too late considering he already knew you were there.

Your mother let out some kind of ungodly squeal before rushing towards Minho and taking his hand in hers to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! I take it that you know my daughter? And who might you be, such a handsome man as yourself???”

You really did contemplate hiding behind that car.

It was unfair how you had to run him into at a time when he looked like that. Your mother was nearly eating him with her eyes while Minho looked to you in his confusion.

Of course when your mother had to see him, he was fresh off of his morning run: white cotton sleeveless shirt, running joggers, a thick headband with sweat dripping down his body in rivets from his forehead to the curves of his toned arms.

Life was just too fucking unfair.

“Minho!” Internally, you crawled so far into yourself it was like you were barely there. You squeaked out the words coupled with a poorly-timed voice crack, “I didn’t plan on seeing YOu here!”

“Minho?!” Seungmin echoed your phrase, grabbing onto your arm with force.

“Uh, hello, nice to meet you I’m Lee Minho. And yes, I do know Y/n, I actually live a couple doors down--”

“--A neighbor! How wonderful! I know she doesn’t leave the house that much, but I’m so glad that the two of you have met. Do you live your family..? Or...your wife...?”

He smiled warmly, polite as always, “No Ma’am, I’m not married, I live with my mother.”

“Your mother? Well, that’s very honorable.”

You and your best friend locked eyes upon hearing the answer to the question that both of you had been silently wondering.

With a little eyebrow raised, he gave you a smirk, before braiding his hand through his locks strung with sweat. “I also live with my cats too.”

“Cats?” Your mother tried her best to hide the distaste in her mouth. “That’s...honorable as well. Taking care of animals is...hm, well, Y/n get in the car, time is ticking!!”

Your mother’s shrill voice was clipped by the sound of the car door closing behind her. You and your best friend choked in silent laughter together.

“Are you sure I don’t look ridiculous?” You patted down your itchy grey blazer.

Seungmin nodded, “Do you want me to tell you the truth? Not your colors. But, you’ll just have to live with it.”

“I think that you look nice.” Minho’s compliment melted into your skin like honey. “But I agree, the colors don’t work the best. Sorry.”

“Oh. Thank you...” Your cheeks warmed, “Sorry! God, I’m-this is Seungmin, my-my friend Seungmin, sorry I didn’t introduce you both, my head is just--”

“--Nice to meet you. Finally.” Seungmin’s expression turned a bit more stoic, a stark contrast to his softer features.

“Nice to meet you as well.”

“Okayyyy, well, I’ll just...get going then. See you both...later.”

Seungmin slammed the door behind you, leaving you with your huffing mother in the car.

“All of these handsome men around you and you can’t lock down one? I can’t believe you...” She threw her makeup bag on your lap. “I’ll play matchmaker if you want me to, I don’t mind, but you know that I have a lot going on already--”

“--Haven’t you already started? Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell Seungmin something. Seungmin is my friend, mom.”

“I just don’t get you. Aren’t you ever a bit sad that you don’t get invited to things like this since you have no female friends...?”

“Honestly? I don’t really care--”

“--You should. Thank God that you have me.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

The front windows to the floral shop winked in the morning sun and the gold lettering of the signage glistened with a similar glow. On the display, there were several dozens of different types of flowers all arranged into different glass vases, tied with bows or swaddled in burlap. The arrangements of roses, chrysanthemums, peonies, daises, sunflowers and other wildflowers appeared to be freshly cut, and beaded with water droplets.

“Here. Take my card. If any of them seem to be brown at all, tell them that you won’t pay until they fix it.”

You took the little plastic card from her red painted nails. “Will do.”

There was a little bell hung over the shop door, and it tinkled when you entered like fairy chimes. The entire place seemed a little magical: the kind of place that you would find yourself reiterating in your writings. On the marble tiled floors, flecks of dirt seemed to gather in the grout.

The golden brass counter stretched on for nearly the whole length of the shop, and held a display case which doubled as a cooler holding smaller things like corsages and boutonnières.

“Can I help you?”

The man approached you wiping the dirt off of his hands onto his canvas apron which was stained with smudges of green and brown. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoos adorning his arms in beautiful patterns of black with muted colors of yellow, lavender and pink. They were nearly all floral in design and reminded you of the drawings from a botany book. His shaggy dark hair had a bit of a curl to it that tasseled over his eyes. His smile too was devastatingly charming, decorating it was a black hooped lip ring.

“Here to pick up an order?”

“Y-yes, for L/n.”

“I just finished that one up, lucky for you.” He palmed through the little stack of receipts near the register. “I’ll go get it real quick.”

It was criminal how fast you found your heart beating after hearing how strikingly soothing his voice had sounded. You also found your head spinning over how familiar he seemed, like someone you had met before, but couldn’t place where.

He had brought the sizeable arrangement over, and upon seeing it, you knew that your mother must’ve asked them to pull out all the works. Not only were flowers like this a bit of an unusual bridal shower gift, but it was just one more way for her to show off. The moment that the two of you would arrive with that, heads would turn, and that was exactly what she wanted. It was so large, you had to crane a little to see the florist behind it.

“That’ll be 360.”

Never had you been more thankful to pay for a gift with someone else’s money.

When you passed him the card, you noted the little scrapes up and down his hands and forearms, looking a bit like cat scratches.

“It’s the roses.” He chuckled. “This job is a lot more dangerous than you would think.”

“Oh.” A heat in your cheeks rose along with his observation of you.

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” He tapped at the register, then nodded to the sunlight streamlining in from the windows. There were little rainbows speckling the store from the prisms hung above the displays.

“I-it really is.”

Your eyes wandered to his nametag which looked like he had decorated with hand-drawn stars. Jisung. Once again, he caught your eyes, slyly rolling his tongue over that black hoop.

“It’s the kind of day that makes me wish I wasn’t cooped up in here and doing something else; going somewhere else. You seen the cherry blossoms yet?”

“I-I have one in my yard.”

“Oh really? It’s my favorite time of year because of them.”

His smile was a bit in the shape of a heart, and the way that his eyes smiled along with it was just as charming as the rest of him.

Blaze.

He was Blaze.

Quite literally, never in your life could you have said that you had felt your heart skip a beat, but, you imagined that there’s a first time for everything.

He scribbled down something down on the receipt, handing you both the card and the slip.

“Have a good one, ‘kay?”

Had it been socially acceptable, you would have slapped yourself square in the face, right then and there, to snap yourself out of your awe.

“Yo-you as well.”

It was a miracle you didn’t drop that expensive-ass floral arrangement getting out of there as fast as you did.

“What took you so long? People will start wondering where we are.”

Your mother said a couple more chastising remarks, but they faded away once you looked at the crinkled piece of paper on your hand:

I hope to see you again, Blossom.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“Y/n!!! Oh my god, I am so happy to see you. I’ve been decaying, simply drying out in this office all by myself.”

You swatted your melodramatic friend by the backside of his head, subsequently ruffling up his perfectly primped long, blond hair.

“Shut up. You’re surviving just fine without me.”

Hyunjin lowered his voice into a rather loud whisper, “Everyone here is just so boring.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting ‘Jin. It’s a publishing company, all we do is read here. You kind of did it to yourself too. Hell, you edit the children’s books!! You don’t have a thing to complain about.”

“Are you sure that you can’t take an office here? We could eat lunch together, make coffee together from that broken-ass coffee machine, and bitch about Mr. Yoon together. By the way, what are you doing here anyway besides not seeing me?”

“Picking up a couple manuscripts. I finished the ones from before.”

“You’re inhuman. I don’t know how you get through 300+ pages over a weekend.”

You shrugged, “It’s just what I like to do, that’s all. And, no, I will not be taking an office here, not when I have my classes too.”

“Aren’t you the perfect symbol of adulthood.” Hyunjin pulled up for you the creaky plastic office chair from the empty desk next to his.

“Tell that to my mother, I think she’d have a different oponion.”

“Screw your mother--and you can tell her that I said that too.” Your coworker fiddled with his white collar, pulling it from his neck. You knew how much he hated those and would have much rather preferred the silky low-cut ones which had become his trademark.

“If only it were that easy.”

“How’s Princess Bomi doing?”

“My cat or the story?”

“I was talking about the story, but sure, tell me about your cat too.”

Hyunjin was a sarcastic little shit, but that was why you loved him. Seungmin tended to be the same sometimes--you surmised that perhaps you made the same type of people gravitate towards you.

“It’s been pretty well received actually, and I think I’m just about done with the first book, there’s probably only a few chapters left. I just passed 8,000 reads.”

“Wow, that’s actually...really impressive. I mean it.”

When he wasn’t being a sarcastic little shit, Hyunjin was actually a genuine friend. He had been supportive of your writing ever since he forced the information out of you a few months ago after seeing a your chaotic notes mixed in with your manuscript ones. Of course, he had laughed at the prospect of you naming your main character after your cat, but he understood otherwise.

“You’ve been getting good feedback?”

“Mmhm! They really like Bomi as a character, that, and it seems like Blaze has some fans too...”

Upon saying the same, the boy from the flower shop sneakily crept back into your head along with that stupidly Blaze-like smile of his--or at least, the smile that you had always pictured Blaze to have.

Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Earth to Y/n? Where did you go?”

“Huh? Oh sorry, I think I just got...lost in thought.”

“I said I think that you should really consider brining it to the company. What if they want to publish it? I think that it’s worth a shot. You said yourself that its successful online. What makes you think that people wouldn’t be interested in the print version?”

“I--Hyunjin, Princess Bomi is kind of a personal thing...”

“--Why do I even bother!” In his mock disgust, Hyunjin crossed his flabbergast arms against his chest. “I’m only trying to give you a helpful suggestion.”

Above the two of you, the florescent white lights bore down on you with a harsh luminescence.

“But--” You shyly picked at the hem of your blouse, “I could use your help with something else.”

“What?”

“What do you suggest that I wear...to meet someone’s mom?”

Hyunjin practically leapt out of his chair and three feet into the air.

“YOU’RE MEETING SOMEONE’S MOTHER?! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!!”

“Get your ass back down in your seat.” You whipped your head around to see your coworkers concerned glances. “Yes, I am.”

“Thank God that you asked me. This is a serious matter.”

“I can’t exactly ask Seungmin...so...”

“Don’t you worry! I know exactly what you can do. So,” His voice turned sing-songy, “~What’s he like~ And how come you didn’t tell me about this sooner??”

“-Because I knew that you would have this exact same reaction.”

“I promise I’ll calm down, okay, go:”

“Well, he’s my neighbor, and I’ve only met him a few weeks ago, and he’s got cats, and he’s really sweet and not to mention hot as well but in like kind of a... cozy, librarian kind of way? Anyway, he wears cardigans--and you know that I’m a sucker for a good cardigan--and I’m convinced that the universe is trying to get me to destroy him but, that’s beside the point--”

“Slow down slow down! Literally all of the words you said just now don’t make sense together.”

You wheeled your chair closer to the man across from you, “And then he asked me to meet his cats and his mom or maybe just his cats or his mom, he was kinda unclear about that now that I think about it...”

“So he’s hot and has cats, hmm, sounds right up your alley.”

“I-I guess.”

“Are you sure he’s not, you know, trying to be neighborly?”

You punched Hyunjin’s arm so hard you jiggled your glasses on your face. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“Sorry I brought it up! Ok, ok, I think I know what you should do. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help you bag this sexy librarian man?”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“I sure as hell hope that you’re not trying to be neighborly.”

You smoothed down your freshly ironed blouse: a floral pattern with birds, something “light and springy” just as Hyunjin had recommended. The pleats in your trousers were in shape as well. He had suggested too that you tied your hair up, something about it being professional and “dateable.”

Bomi sauntered up to you while you inspected your outfit in the full-length mirror. Her gorgeous green eyes were squinted after her day-long nap, and she yawned while she brushed up against your leg.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Bomi?” You bent down to pat her head, which she promptly shied away from. “You think that this looks good? Mother-worthy?”

Bomi blinked.

“Thanks for your input Bo.”

Another yawn.

Your nightstand held your little jewelry tree, and from it you took a dainty silver necklace that hung just above the neckline of your blouse, as well as the thin tan wristwatch that you wore once in a blue moon.

The watch face read 5 o’clock exactly.

“Shit! Shit shit shit shit!.”

Bomi scrambled out of your way as you flew around the room trying to find a matching pair of socks. You stopped one more in front of the mirror. Your mother’s words always did find a way of seeping back into your skin like poison. Even if you had looked “nice” a nagging voice deep down echoed: “you’ve only ever been less than auspicious. Why don’t you ever change that?”

“Screw your mother.” Hyunjin had said.

If it only was that easy.

Your footsteps clomped down the stairs, and you threw on the same pair of kitten heels.

“Shit. The gift.” You slapped your forehead, cursing your horrid memory.

“And don’t forget to bring his mother something. A gift. Something small but thoughtful. Something that she can use. Mothers eat shit up like that.”

You frantically searched your entire home for something that resembled a gift. After a few moments of searching, you had resolved to go without it--you’d explain that it was in the mail, or misplaced, or anything but the fact that you didn’t have one. You grabbed your humorous amount of keychains on your keys, eyes catching that little box of complimentary chocolates from the bridal shower.

“Good enough.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

One more time, you checked your reflection in the glass door leading to Minho’s mother’s townhouse.

“This is fine, you can do this. Don’t screw this up, you’re fine, you’re fine.”

Minho opened the door, looking as confusingly adorable and downright gorgeous as you had grown to know him as. This time, he had ditched the cardigan for a sky blue sweater that still pooled at his palms. Seeing how casually he had dressed, you instantly felt overdressed, and made a mental reminder to cuss out Hyunjin when you got the chance later.

“Come in,” He gently ushered you to the spot where you switched on shoes for slippers.

“You-um, look really nice.” Minho pushed up his glasses up his nose bridge, “Really pretty.”

“Th-thank you, um, you too.”

He snickered, “No one has called me pretty before.”

“Shit, Sorry, that was weird, sorry, I’m just kinda...nervous.”

“No, not at all, I don’t mind. I appreciate the compliment.”

You stood at the doorway, awkward silence permeating the air. Suddenly, you remembered the chocolates in your hands.

“Oh, this is for you and your mother, I thought I might as well bring something over...”

Minho took it from you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t think too much of the packaging that just looked a little too wedding-y.

“Thank you for this.” He popped the box open excitedly, “What kind are they?”

It took a couple seconds, but you watched in horror as his expression turned from thrilled to deeply confused.

“What is it?” You craned your neck over to see.

“Are they...supposed to look like that?”

Inside of the little plastic compartments, each of the chocolates had melted into blobs pathetically and swirled together making one huge, brown, melted--and then solidified again--chocolate mess.

“Oh my god.” Your throat felt as tight as a knot in your embarrassment. “They’ve...”

Minho hurriedly closed the box. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it.” He tried the best he could to suppress his laughter. “It’s still about the same.”

“No it’s not.” You whined out the words. “Don’t let your mother can’t see them, oh shit, oh shit.”

“What happened to them?”

Your horrid memory suddenly let you remember the fact that those chocolates had stayed in the car after the bridal shower when you had gone to visit your mother’s home.

“Nothing good, just-hide them--”

“Minho? Is that Y/n? Is she here?”

“--Hide it, quick!!!”

Minho shoved the box behind a large houseplant, still hiding his laughter caught in his throat.

“Ahhh Y/n! It’s so good to meet you at last! I’ve heard so much about you!”

You greeted Minho’s mother with a bow, throwing the box of chocolates a disdainful glare. She was a gentle looking woman who appeared to be a little older than your own, or, perhaps the same age. You wouldn’t be surprised if your mother had paid enough to procure the elixir of life; sounds like something she would have done.

“I’m so happy to meet you as well. Thank you for inviting me in.”

“Minho!!” His mother nudged his arm, “You didn’t tell me how pretty she was.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat when you gave another little bow in thanks. “Your home is really lovely too.”

“Oh, it was all Minho’s idea, I’m just the one that did the cooking. I’m always happy to cook for a neighbor.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got a couple more things to prepare, Minho, you go show her the cats, I’m sure that she’d like that--I hear that you have a cat too?”

You nodded. “Are you sure that you don’t need any help?”

“No no, you both go on, I’ll handle this.”

By each passing moment, this all started to feel a bit more like a playdate than an official meeting of one’s mother. Here you were, a grown woman, and you had gone over to someone’s house to play with their cats. Maybe you weren’t as much of a grown woman as you thought you were.

“Over here.” Minho guided you to the living room: it was a modest one with furniture that looked to be very old, with beautiful traditional pictures of landscapes with assorted baby photos hanging on the walls. Everywhere, there was little pieces of evidence of the residence of cats: cat toys, scratching pads, a couple cat carriers and the cat tree nearest the window. At the top tier of the structure, there was a white and orange cat lazing with a foot slung over the side.

“Doongie?” You carefully approached the furball to pet it’s tiny paw.

“That one is Soonie, I have two cats that look a bit similar. Doongie is probably somewhere strange. You never know cats. Mine really like hopping on top of the china cabinet; it scares my mother half to death”

“I can imagine.”

Soonie remained unbothered, little cat body peacefully sleeping.

“Over here is Dori, the youngest one.”

Dori was a bit striped, with a grey body and a white belly. The smaller cat was rolled up into a perfect cinnamon roll on the loveseat. The cat stirred hearing it’s name, and keened into Minho’s touch when he scratched its head. You copied the touch, and Dori granted you the same permission.

“You cats are so sweet...wanna trade?”

“I...think that I’m good with the cat’s I’ve got. But that is a tempting offer.”

Making a rather loud appearance was Doongie, who ambled into the room with a series of loud yowls and meows, looking up to both you and Minho with striking yellow eyes.

“Doongie!” You crouched down to give the cat scratches under it’s chin, making it purr slightly. “Did you miss me? I hope that you’ve been staying out of trouble.”

Minho’s gentle brown eyes observed your interactions with his cats, simply letting you play around with them as you wished. Every once and a while, you could catch his eyes following you with a contented little grin on his face.

There was something so domestic and comforting about the whole scene. Inside the townhouse that felt well loved and with the smell of a homecooked meal in the air, there was something so peaceful about it all that was a little foreign to you.

“Minho! Please come help me with the bowls!”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Crickets chirped along the pathway and into the spring’s chilly nighttime air. Minho had offered to walk you home, even though you were just two houses down. Because of this, it seemed as if the two of you were walking in slow motion, taking one step after the other as slowly and carefully as you could. Absentmindedly, you both wanted just a little more time.

After spending the night being on your best behavior, you felt as if you could finally breathe. Granted, you had grandly spilled soup all over Minho’s mother, but this seemed to diffuse quickly once she had laughed raucously at the event. She was a sweet woman, with a kind soul, much like Minho. Her lightly wrinkled face shone like the sun and made you feel loved even without knowing her much.

In many ways, you wondered what it would be like having a mother as such. It was likely however, maybe you just weren’t supposed to know.

Minho cast his gaze up to the sprinkling of stars spread out over the vast sky: most of them invisible due to the closeness to the city.

“You know, I’m starting to really like living out here, in the suburbs I mean. Everything in the city was so fast and chaotic, it’s nice to sit back and let things be still for a while.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Not as much as I did. The city...holds a lot of memories for me; some of them I’d rather forget. Being out here feels like a new start.”

The two of you stopped near the light coming from your porch. In the soft glow of yellow, coupled with the gentle navy blue tint of the night, Minho looked ethereal--perhaps even a little fairy-like.

You cursed out your writer brain for thinking of your little made up world at a time like this when you had this boy, real, in front of you.

“I had a nice time with you tonight.” Minho shoved his hands into his pants pockets with a cute little smirk. “I think my cats are a fan of you as well, so, that puts a good word in for you in my book.”

“Me too. Thank-thank you for inviting me.”

“Next time, we should do something different, I heard actually that there’s a meteor shower in a couple weeks.”

“Wait, next time?”

“Or, we could do something sooner if you’d like.”

“You want to do something else? With me?”

“Yes you, who else would I be talking about?” Minho capped his sentence with a little snicker.

“S-sorry, I just...don’t understand...why would you... I mean, I don’t do too much besides kinda hide in my house with my cat...there isn’t really a lot of things interesting about--”

Minho squatted down, sweeping something off of the sidewalk. It wasn’t until he had put it in your hair that you had realized he had taken one of the cherry blossoms from your tree to tuck it behind your ear. His head titled slightly as he admired the decoration, fingers lingering by the side of your cheek for a moment.

“I disagree.” He hushed, barely saying the words louder than a whisper. “Even though you you tent to get yourself into...situations--not that I mind anyway, you are special. Hell, and I haven’t even known you that long. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

Had it been socially acceptable, you would’ve kissed him right then and there.

If only it were that easy.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Chapter 25

There Blaze was, standing, simple, cuts on his face and that little scar on his eyebrow twitching. The campfire illuminated his eyes with the flames, creating that brazen fire that he had gotten his name from.

Bomi knew him well. In fact, she thought she had known him better than most--a fact which she selfishly kept to herself. Blaze was everything she had known for the past year or so, and the time had interwoven their paths in ways that she had never expected. Before her was a person who knew her too, perhaps better than she knew herself.

Blaze’s callused hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing over her own battle scars.

“If you’ll not have me, please know Princess, you are the strongest warrior, bravest leader, and wisest friend that I have had the pleasure of knowing. I’ll stay by your side until I breathe my last breath.”

With a shaking hand, Bomi took Blaze’s hand resting on her cheek. She memorized the way that his skin felt on hers, making a million silent wishes that she knew would never come true.

“You and I, we both know that fate would have other plans for us...I’m sorry.”

Bomi turned from the warmth of the campfire, and the way that his eyes held hers.

She wished a million wishes, and he was nearly every one one of them.

128 notes · View notes

darks-ink · 3 years

Text

Ephemeral

Prompt: Tucker Ghouly thought this was going to be a good, peaceful day. That thought is crushed when not one, not two, but three portals open, depositing the halfa versions of his two best friends (and his best friend’s sister?) into this world. Why are they here? And how are they going to return to their home worlds? Prompt by: @bibliophilea Word count: 4,175

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

“This patrol has been very calm,” Tucker muttered, raising himself higher in the air like that would reveal some sort of hidden ambush. “Suspiciously calm.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Danny grumbled, rolling his eyes. One of his hands wandered to the ecto-gun hidden under his black jacket.

Something in Tucker’s chest seized—his core, he knew instantly—and he jerked to a halt. So did both of his friends, coming to a stand-still a step behind him. A green spark flickered in front of them.

“Too late,” Sam grunted, pulling her own small ecto-gun out of its holster. “This one is on you, Tuck.”

“When isn’t it?” he bit back, but lit up his fists with roiling violet ectoplasm anyway. Whatever this was, whether it would be hostile or not, he was ready.

The spark spluttered, and for a moment it seemed to extinguish entirely. Then, with a terrible ripping sound—a sound which seemed to echo in Tucker’s very core—the green extended, like a tear through reality.

A portal into the Ghost Zone.

The surface of the portal wavered, then parted way as a single humanoid ghost stumbled through. Literally stumbled through, feet on the ground, almost tripping on the edge of the portal as it immediately closed behind the ghost.

And then the noise came again, and then a third time, as two more portals opened up, just to the side of where the first had been. And, again, the portals both released a single humanoid ghost before immediately closing again.

“What the hell,” Danny muttered behind him, and Tucker could only heartily agree. At least he didn’t seem to be the only one confused by the going-ons, as the first ghost to stumble through was also watching the newcomers.

Or he had been, because the ghost’s gaze had snapped towards Tucker—and more importantly, Danny—when his friend had spoken.

Bright green eyes blinked at the two of them, and Tucker was struck with a sense of familiarity. It took him an embarrassingly long moment to see through the glowing eyes, the innate difference in appearance caused by the mild glow of a ghost, before he could place the face.

The ghost was an exact copy of Danny. Or, more accurately, of a hypothetical ghost version of Danny, since his hair was as white as Tucker’s was in his ghost form, and his usual blue eyes replaced with green.

He ripped his eyes away from Danny’s ghostly doppelganger to look at the other two ghosts, and felt his stomach flip. One of them was undeniably Sam’s copy, with white hair and vivid cyan eyes. The other took him a moment longer to place, before he realized she looked like a younger version of Danny’s sister Jazz.

“Huh,” Sam mumbled, stepping up to Tucker’s other shoulder. All three ghosts’ eyes followed the movement. “This is… odd.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” the ghostly version of Danny said. Despite the echo, his voice was undeniably Danny’s. “So, uh. I guess none of you were responsible for the creation of that portal?” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the other two ghosts. “Or, those portals, since there were multiple?”

“Definitely not,” Tucker confirmed, and let the ectoplasm gathering in his fists sizzle out. None of the ghosts seemed hostile, and he didn’t really feel much for fighting his friends’ duplicates.

“I didn’t do it either,” the young Jazz said, her golden eyes narrowed and her purple hair flickering violently in a manner that reminded Tucker uncomfortably of Ember.

“Me neither,” Sam’s doppelganger piped up, crossing her arms. “So, Danny, you up to something?”

Ghostly Danny flinched and pulled a face that Tucker immediately placed as guilty. “Uhhh…”

“Why is my ghost version a disaster?” Danny loudly complained, leaning against Tucker’s shoulder now that he had—without noticing it himself—come low enough to the ground for Danny to reach.

“Just be glad that he’s wearing black,” Sam put in, leaning around Tucker’s other side to watch her own ghostly copy. “Since apparently everyone else has been forced into brightly colored jumpsuits.”

“Stop dodging the point,” the younger Jazz snapped, before whirling around to her ghostly brother. “What did you do, big brother?”

“Big brother?” both Danny’s echoed, eyeing her. When she growled, the ghostly Danny raised his hands placatingly and added on, “I didn’t— Okay, I might’ve, but I didn’t mean to!”

“Illuminating,” Sam’s ghostly double muttered, shaking her head. “Please stop dodging around the point, Danny.”

Luminescent green eyes rolled as Danny’s copy lowered his hands again. “Okay, so I might have been trying to open a portal to the Ghost Zone. I was just trying to reach a friend!”

“And you somehow missed catastrophically,” Sam concluded, now also leaning on Tucker. He was starting to feel slightly used. “You know what? That checks out.”

“Wow,” Danny muttered, pressing a hand against his chest. “I’m hurt, Sam. Right in my poor black heart.”

“Okay, that’s enough out of you three!” Jazz snarled, her glow flickering brighter for a moment before it settled again. “That explains how Danny got here, but what about us?” She gestured at herself and Sam’s ghostly version. “Why are Sam and I here?”

“The connection between Danny’s world and this one must’ve destabilized something.” Sam’s ghost frowned, brows drawing together in thought. “Or maybe something about how he reached for a friend drew us in too?”

All five of them looked at the ghostly Danny, whose shoulders slowly but steadily climbed up to his ears.

“Sorry?” he said, sounding uncertain. “Uh. Whoops?”

Danny snorted, then shook his head. “Maybe we should move somewhere a little more private while we figure this out, since it doesn’t seem like you folks are intent on causing trouble.”

“We can go to my place, since we actually have a shot at privacy there,” Sam offered, stepping away from Tucker. “The three of us will need to go through the front door. Can I assume you three can find the way to the greenhouse yourselves?”

Sam’s ghostly double raised an eyebrow, then grinned. “Yeah, I think I can manage that. We’ll be right there.”

“Just know that if you don’t show up, we will hunt you down,” Danny threatened, holding a single finger in their direction. “You’re not safe just because you look like us.”

“Yeah, yeah, we hear you loud and clear,” Danny’s double replied, waving him off almost casually. “Get going.”

They went.

---

By the time Tucker, Sam, and Danny made it to Sam’s greenhouse, the three ghosts had already arrived. True to expectations, Sam’s double was checking out the plants. The other two, ghostly Danny and Jazz, seemed to be frowning at each other.

Tucker cleared his throat the moment he stepped inside, ignoring the way his core pulled in his chest. He had very little experience dealing with ghosts while human, and felt distinctly disarmed. If they attacked, he would need precious moments to transform.

But that was if they attacked, which he highly doubted.

“Oh,” ghost Danny said, with a tone of heavy understanding. “We’re all half-ghosts, then. That makes sense.”

“Does it?” Tucker muttered, only halfheartedly venomous. “No, I guess it does. Can we start with introductions?”

Jazz nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “There is too much overlap in the names, I think. Should all half-ghosts go by our ghost names, then? Since I assume we all have one?”

The half-ghost version (apparently?) of Sam turned away from the plant she’d been looking at. “I’m Manes, then. And can I just say that this is a damn impressive greenhouse.”

“Thanks,” the actual Sam answered with a snort and a pleased smile. “It’s a good place to hide away from my parents.”

Half-ghost Danny shook his head, the expression on his face somewhere between hurt and cheered. His Sam must be the same about plants, then. “I’m Phantom.”

“Specter,” half-ghost Jazz chipped in, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Tucker kind of got it. Somehow, they all went with a similar theme on names, yet lacked overlap entirely. “I went with Ghouley, but considering that I’m the only Tucker around, you can just call me Tucker.”

“Where is your sense of camaraderie, Tuck?” Phantom asked, grinning impishly. “We’re all in this together, aren’t we?”

“So it seems,” he allowed with a grumble, rolling his eyes. “Am I supposed to shift to my ghost form as well, or are you all gonna shift back to human, or…?”

The other three exchanged brief glances before Manes shrugged, a ring of white light forming around her waist. The light swept away cyan eyes and a green suit, leaving her in a rather generic shirt and skirt combo, the same green and purple he knew from his own Sam, and her usual purple eyes blinking back at him.

Phantom huffed but followed her, letting his own transformation wash away the black jumpsuit and green eyes, replacing them with a white and red shirt and ordinary jeans, sky blue eyes like the Danny right behind Tucker.

With the other two transformed, Specter rolled her eyes but also shifted, her golden eyes turning teal and her purple ponytail coming down to cascade red hair over her shoulders—just like the Jazz Tucker knew, if a little younger.

“So they are all half-ghosts,” Danny jibed, gesturing at the three… the three alternate versions of his friends. And Jazz. “That’s good to know.”

“This was a test?” Phantom asked, raising his own eyebrow and looking eerily like Danny. Tucker was kind of starting to wish he had just shifted back to his ghost form for this. “I guess that that’s fair. I don’t think I would’ve trusted it either, if I was in your shoes.”

“Okay, not this isn’t nice and all,” Specter interrupted, sounded not at all sorry for doing so, “but can we please focus on the whole”—she gestured around them—“this thing?”

“She has a point,” Sam allowed, stepping further into the greenhouse. “We’re still working on the assumption that Phantom somehow did this?”

The boy in question made a face but didn’t deny it. “I was just trying to open a portal. I don’t know how it went this wrong!”

“Was this your first time opening a portal?” Manes asked, leaning forward with an expression of curiosity on her face. “If so, what made you so certain you could do it?”

“I’ve seen a future version of myself do it,” Phantom explained with a dismissively casual shrug. “I managed at least one of the other powers I saw him do, so I figured portal making wasn’t out of the question either.”

Tucker felt himself frown at that. He’d seen a future version of himself? Sure, the three of them had run into all sorts of weird ghost stuff, but that? That wasn’t something he was familiar with.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one, because Manes also frowned. Specter, it seemed, did recognize the events, if vaguely, because she nodded understandingly.

“I’ve seen something similar,” she allowed. “But I never successfully opened a portal, either, despite what I’ve seen her do.”

“Weird.” Phantom shook his head, like he was clearing his thoughts. “I don’t know why Specter and I saw a future and you two didn’t, and I don’t know what went wrong with my attempt, either. I figured that if I messed it up it just wouldn’t work, not”—he gestured vaguely, much like Specter had before—“not this.”

“Must’ve been some weird Fenton thing,” Manes commented, her frown wiped away in favor of a grin. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that sets you apart from Specter, if she just couldn’t do it and you tore open the fabric of reality to tap into alternate dimensions.”

Phantom flapped his hands aggravatedly, and despite the oddness of the situation, Tucker was secretly kind of glad of how easy it was to read him and Manes. Specter was more troublesome—he didn’t spend a lot of time around Jazz—but his friends? Piece of cake.

“I don’t know, okay?” Phantom snapped, his eyes briefly flickering green. Really aggravated, then. Good to know. “I don’t know how I screwed up this badly! I didn’t even know it was possible for ghosts to open portals to different realities!”

“And you can’t think of anything that might work?” Specter pressed, crossing her arms and frowning at him. “No ghost artifacts or anything?”

That ground Phantom to a halt. “Uh. Hm…” His brow creased as he thought, muttering to himself under his breath, until… “The Reality Gauntlet could’ve done it, maybe?”

“The what?” Tucker blurted out automatically. That sounded like some kind of superhero comic device, not an actual ghost artifact.

“The Reality Gauntlet?” Phantom repeated, like that alone could explain everything. “Big metal glove, fits four gems? Can alter the fabric of reality?”

Tucker shook his head in negative, and was oddly relieved to see not only Manes but also Specter answer in negative.

“No one else has dealt with it?” Phantom asked, incredulous.

“That must’ve been it, then,” Danny concluded, humming to himself. “The Gauntlet must’ve done it.”

“But that’s impossible,” Phantom countered, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. “I destroyed it months ago.”

“And, assuming the timelines are roughly equal, your core would’ve been young enough to absorb the energy released from a broken ghost artifact,” Sam bit back. “What were you thinking, Phantom?”

“That it was too dangerous to leave hanging around!” Phantom’s eyes glowed green once more, but it was quickly repressed, and he continued in a quieter, more morose tone. “Freakshow already used it against my friends and family once. I couldn’t leave it hanging around for him—or someone else—to try again.”

That… checked out. Tucker might’ve done the same, if he had been in Phantom’s shoes. Danny definitely would’ve. “Okay, so now what?”

“We ask Clockwork?” Phantom suggested with a loose shrug. “He’s usually helpful for this sort of thing.”

Clockwork? That was a ghost name if Tucker had ever heard one, but not one he was familiar with. From Manes’ expression, neither was she.

He wasn’t sure whether it was comforting or not, that his universe and Manes’ were so similar when the Fentons’ universes were so different. It was like they were somehow significantly different from the Fentons. Was it because Sam and he weren’t the kids of ghost hunters? Somehow?

“Clockwork is the ghost of time, though.” Specter huffed, rolling her eyes at Phantom. “Besides, we’re in a different universe entirely, and it looks like Ghouley doesn’t know him. Clockwork probably won’t know any of us, never mind care enough to help.”

“Why can’t we just go and grab the Reality Gauntlet?” Manes asked. “If that’s the thing powerful enough to break through the fabric of reality, surely we can just use the one in this universe to make portals back?”

Phantom made a face at that. “I’m not sure where it is. I think Freakshow might’ve stolen in from the Guys in White, but I’m not 100% sure on that.”

Eugh. Yeah, that explained the face. “So that’s out too,” Tucker concluded, trying not to feel too down about it. At least he wasn’t stuck in a different reality altogether. But if there was no way to return the three other half-ghosts home… That was bound to become messy.

“Why can’t Phantom just try again?” Sam asked, a tone of genuine curiosity in her voice. “If we’re all pretty sure he’s the one responsible for the portals in the first place, maybe he can open up portals back, too.”

“Using a power he can’t control?” Manes returned, but she cocked her head in thought. “But I guess that it’s worth a shot.”

“We could try doing it together?” Specter suggested, placing a hand on Phantom’s shoulder. “We’re all half-ghosts, and we’re all here for some reason, right? If Phantom’s power brought us here, maybe we can combine all our powers to make the portals back?”

Danny huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think that that’s how ghost powers work, is it?”

The look he got from Specter could only be described as imperial. “Friendship—love—is all we have on our side, it seems. It brought us here, it can damn well bring us back, too.”

“That’s fair,” Danny allowed with a snort.

“I guess we’d better wait until it’s dark.” Tucker pulled out his phone, grimacing at the time. “Why don’t we all call our parents that we’re staying here and order in some food?”

Phantom shrugged, then sat down on a stool hanging out in the greenhouse. “Sounds good to me.”

“Same,” Specter said, following his example. Manes shrugged and nodded her approval as well.

“We could talk a little about the differences between our realities.” Danny stepped forward to nudge Phantom. “I, for one, would really like to know why you’re wearing white.”

“What am I, a goth?” Phantom laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve got Sam for that.”

Oh yeah, they would get through the time well enough, Tucker thought.

---

“I think it’s late enough,” Specter muttered, and Tucker jerked out of the drowse he’d fallen into. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he followed her gaze to outside the greenhouse.

“Looks like it,” he agreed with a yawn. “Let’s all sneak off to the park, then.”

The other half-ghosts—and Danny and Sam—pushed themselves out of their seats as well, getting to their feet slowly. Looked like he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten tired while waiting.

Actually, it made perfect sense that all his fellow half-ghosts got as little sleep as he did. Ghost hunting was bad for your sleep rhythm, he knew.

Tucker waved Danny over closer, then pushed a camera into his hand. “Can you film the thing for me?”

Danny snorted but nodded. “Of course, Tuck. Just don’t get yourself sucked into an alternate reality, please?”

“I’ll try,” he promised wryly, then nodded at the other half-ghosts, who had gathered into a sorta-kinda circle around the two of them. “I think the best plan is for all of us to fly there together. Two of us can carry Sam and Danny to sneak them in with us.”

Manes shrugged and stepped forward. “I can carry my counterpart, and Phantom can take Danny.”

“You’re volunteering my services?” Phantom squawked, then shook his head and stepped forward as well. “Sure, whatever. Yeah, I’ll carry this universe’s version of myself, no problem.”

Getting a nod of approval from Danny and Sam, Tucker figured it was all satisfied and shrugged. “If everyone’s fine with that. Let’s get going, then.”

He shifted into his ghost form before he finished the sentence, the other three half-ghosts following his example.

But, man, Tucker really hoped this would work. Having the other three stick around might be helpful in the whole ghost hunting business, but it was weird to see what his friends would look like as ghosts. Or, as half-ghosts at least, since he knew they all looked rather human compared to most other ghosts.

Phantom easily scooped up Danny, despite his earlier protests, and Manes was quick to follow suit and pick up Sam.

Tucker, not quite sure why he was their lead—because this was his universe, maybe?—pushed himself off of the ground, flickering intangible for a moment to exit the greenhouse. He didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to make sure the others followed, because he could feel them, faintly, trailing just a little behind him.

Good thing that it was too dark for people to tell who they were carrying, because that would be awkward. If people questioned Ghouley about the other ghosts he could at least sorta-kinda tell the truth and say they were his friends, but if they had seen Sam or Danny with them? That was asking for trouble, for sure.

Before he knew it they had arrived at the park, all of them touching down silently. They must’ve looked like a fright, their glowing eyes piercing through the dark, but it looked abandoned enough.

Which was exactly what they had counted on, since the park was closed at night, but you never knew.

Sam and Danny were released by Manes and Phantom, trailing away to the edge of the square where they had landed. Making sure they stayed out of the way of whatever was going to happen here.

Good. That made Tucker feel better. If this somehow went catastrophically wrong… at least they would be safe.

Specter reached forward, suddenly, grabbing Phantom’s hand and linking their fingers together. Then, with her free hand, she gestured Manes over.

Clearly the other half-ghost caught on quicker than Tucker or Phantom, because she grabbed Specter’s free hand and then reached for Tucker. Following their example, he linked his hand with Manes’ offered hand, and then grabbed Phantom’s, completing the circle.

“This is stupid,” the half-ghost in question muttered, glaring venomously at the ground between them. “I’m pretty sure I used my hands to open the first portal.”

“Well, what else do you want us to do to offer our strength? Put our hands on your back?” Specter snorted, the smile in her voice undeniable. “Just try it, ghost-boy.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, then closed them. Took a deep breath. For a moment, it looked like nothing happened, but then…

Then, Tucker could feel the swell of power in the air. Could feel it waver through Phantom, down their connected hand. Could feel the energy running through his own core, through his hand to Manes.

Could feel the pulses of— of whatever it was going through all of them at once.

And, as a terrible but familiar shredding sort of noise sounded, the energy fled from them all at once. Phantom pulled himself free from Tucker’s hold—not that Tucker tried to stop him—and stepped closer to one of the three portals that had opened up.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Tucker muttered to himself, and he heard Manes snort next to him. Quickly he let go of her hand as well, and watched her step closer to one of the portals as well. A different one than Phantom’s.

“I think it did,” Specter said thoughtfully, moving towards the third portal. “It… calls to me, almost?”

Manes hummed in agreement. Rather than reply, Phantom just stuck his head through the portal he’d been looking at. Tucker flinched automatically, but Phantom pulled himself back out before he could move closer.

“It looks right,” Phantom agreed, cautiously. “It feels right, too. But it’s hard to say. From what I’ve seen, this Amity Park looks just like mine, and I assume so do yours.”

“Yeah.” Manes shrugged, then. “We’ll just have to hope for the best, then. If this didn’t work we didn’t have any alternative plans anyway, so…”

Specter snorted. “That’s true, unfortunately.” She took her eyes off of the portal to look at Tucker—and at Sam and Danny, who had crept in closer. “Thanks for the hospitality, and,” she turned to shoot looks at Phantom and Manes, “thank all of you for the experience.”

“Yes, what she said,” Manes agreed, a smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you all for the help as well.”

Phantom nodded. “Yeah, uh. Sorry for causing this, probably? And thanks to uh, all of you.” He nodded again, this time to Tucker and his friends, then stepped towards his portal. And paused.

“Uh, maybe you two should leave first? I don’t want to risk yours closing if I’m gone.”

Manes clapped him on the shoulder, then, still smiling, stepped through her portal. The moment she was gone from their sight, the swirling green mass pulled together and disappeared like it had never been there at all.

“Good luck,” Specter wished Phantom, and then floated through her portal. Once more, it immediately closed behind her.

Phantom nodded at them. “Seriously. Sorry for the mess, and thanks.”

“Just go, dude.” Tucker waved, and with a grin, Phantom stepped through the last portal.

He waited for a few moments after the portal had closed. When no new portals popped up, he sighed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over him. “Man, I really hope that worked out fine.”

“They’ll be fine,” Sam said, then nudged him. “They’ll have the help of their friends.”

Tucker hummed, then turned to Danny. “You got that, right?”

“Of course I got it,” Danny scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d be crazy not to. Yeah, I got it.”

Tucker nodded, then turned to look at the empty space again. The place where the other half-ghosts had just been.

“I really hope that nothing else crazy like this happens, because I really don’t think I can handle that.” He sighed. “And… I hope that they’re all okay.”

“I’m sure they will be.” Danny bumped his other shoulder, taking the opposite side of Sam. “Now come on, let’s get some sleep. You need it.”

“Wow,” Tucker mumbled back, already turning around again. “Hurtful.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #dp fanfic #tucker foley #danny fenton #sam manson #jazz fenton #dark writes

70 notes · View notes

omniswords · 4 years

Text

Seeing Scarlet [Lila Rossi; Marinette Dupain-Cheng]

Adrien is with Kagami. Gabriel has a new agenda. Marinette's back in school, and everyone adores her.

And Lila? Well.

Lila is just about ready to snap.

Mentions of end-of-S3 events, but not too spoilery. Vent piece. Also, please let me know if I should tag this as Lila salt? I’m not 100% sure, but I’ll defer to other people’s judgment, and if it has the potential to be hurtful, then I can certainly go back and fix that up.

Gabriel Agreste doesn’t need Lila anymore.

He told her so yesterday afternoon, the way he always speaks—spoke—to her: at the Place des Vosges, from the comfort of his car, while she listened in from a nearby bench. She didn’t turn to look at him, no matter how much being supposedly relieved of her duties meant she could break every bit of their agreement as much as she wanted. All she said was, “I don’t follow. I thought you only wanted good influences around Adrien. He even said we’re friends. Isn’t that what— “

“What we agreed on, Miss Rossi”—he cut her off rather coldly then—“was that you would do your utmost to keep certain bad influences away from my son. To date, I have failed to see you do so.”

She stayed quiet, but only for a spell. She liked to think she was above begging for chances. No need, when she had every tool in her pocket that turned those chances over to her so willingly. “So you think I’m a bad influence, too,” she said. Final. Sour. It always worked.

“I have my own agenda,” he said. “I’ll let you see to yours.”

Lila had no idea what that was supposed to mean—and she prided herself on knowing what adults meant most of the time. But before she could ask, Gabriel Agreste had already rolled up the window and driven away.

She could have screamed, but really, that was the other thing she was proud of: quietly biding her time to exact the worst revenge. That always worked, too. Besides, adults had taught her how to play the manipulating game. Some of them had even lost to her. He would just be another one. Eventually.

It was supposed to be that easy, anyway. Except she spent the whole train ride home stunned with a silent and otherwise indescribable rage. Except she woke up the next morning to nothing but an apple on the table and a sticky note on the fridge, again. Except she took herself to school and got an eyeful of Chloé goddamn Bourgeois gloating about something or other, and another eyeful of Adrien and that fencing girl holding hands of all things, before she’d even made it to the front steps. And then, as if the universe had decided she just hadn’t had enough to ruin her life, there was Marinette talking to that blue-haired boy again, the one who always carried his guitar around like some stupid security blanket. And they were smiling, and he had his hand on her shoulder, and what right did any of them have, getting to be so happy?

Lila composed herself just in time for Guitar Boy to salute and pedal away on that cheap bike of his, and she pushed into the school building before she had to endure any more of that nauseating expression Marinette had on her face. Anything to get away from her stupid friends, and her stupid smile, and her stupid happiness. Anything to get away from her.

She found herself in the empty, echoing silence of the restroom just down the hall from her class before the bell rang. Found herself staring down every hard line in her face, the grit in her teeth so firm they might break, knuckles white from gripping the edges of the sink. The hate in her eyes. The hate everywhere.

Don’t break, she told her reflection in the daggers she glared at it. Don’t you dare break.

Her teeth didn’t break, but she did, in spite of herself. Her cheeks flared, and her jaw stayed tight, and her heart twisted on itself so many times that it was almost unbearable. she hated it, hated them, hated her, right from the first angry, poisonous tear. And the next, and all the ones that came after that.

Her name was Lila Rossi, and she was not supposed to drown. She would stare herself down to death if she had to. And if she took anyone down with her, well. That would only be for the better. If she had to hurt, then so did everyone else.

She was so focused on crushing the growing weight in her chest that she almost didn’t notice the creak and swing of the restroom door. Half-wildly, she jerked her head toward the door with no time or chance to compose herself, nearly ready to scream because no one would believe it if it got around the school—she would make sure they didn’t believe it.

Apparently, the universe wasn’t done with her just yet. Because of course it was Marinette standing there, her expression caught somewhere between sour and exhausted and... concerned. Not even a hint of glee at the corners of her eyes. It made Lila sick all over again.

“Miss Bustier’s taking attendance,” Marinette said simply, her words echoing hollow off the tile. “She’s looking for you.”

Lila steeled herself, turned back to the mirror. The angry wrinkles in her mouth. The hair in her eyes. “Get. Away. From me.”

“For the most part, I’d love to, trust me.” Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette folded her arms, hip cocked. “But I can’t. It’s kind of my responsibility. Class representative?” A pause. A sigh. “Look, do you need me to—”

“Do you want to know what your problem is, Marinette?” God, Lila even hated saying her name. Tasted like sour milk. Like plaque. It took everything in her to tear away from the sink and stare her down. Maybe if she did it long enough, Marinette would finally screw off.

But Marinette stood unfazed; even the quirk in her brow barely budged. “I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

The air went cold, and Lila counted the steps she took toward the other girl. She wouldn’t dare get so close that the tear streaks would be obvious, but her limbs locked with every threatening click of her shoes. “Everyone just fucking adores you. All you have to do is walk in a room—you don’t even have to lift a goddamn finger—and eeeeeveryone wants to be around you. I bet you don’t ever have to think about it. You just get to be so popular, and so loved. You just get to be a goddamn blessing to everyone, don’t you?”

Her voice was rising even though it didn’t need to, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care. She was beyond it. She’d scream if she could get away with it. Somehow, backing her into a corner was starting to be enough. “And I bet you don’t even care, do you, Marinette? You don’t even care how much everybody loves you, because you’re just basking in it. You probably don’t even hear it. But I do. I hear it all the time, because it’s like no one can stop talking about how great you are for two seconds. Don’t you get how sick you make me? Don’t you get how much I can’t fucking stand you?!”

Take it, she wants to scream. Take every last goddamn word, because if I have to deal with it, then so do you. Because if I have to destroy myself, then I’m taking you with me. Because if I can’t have control, then neither can you. Because if I can’t be happy, then neither can you. You don’t have the right. You did this to me. You did this to me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, do you hear me? You did this, you did this, you—

Marinette was tense, standing in the corner with her arms still folded. Lila would take even that as a victory. But her eyes were searching her face, looking for all the unsaid things, and if she found any of them, she made no sign of it. Eventually, all she said was, “Are you finished?”

At first, Lila was too stunned to do anything but look at her incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Marinette shrugged; it was just barely visible. “Did you get it all out?” she said none too sweetly. “Do you feel better now, taking that all out on me?”

Of course she didn’t. She wouldn’t feel better until she never had to see Marinette’s sorry face again. That, or until she finally crushed her under her heel. She didn’t say anything. She only glared.

“Because if you’re not,” Marinette went on, “I’ll just tell Miss Bustier you’ve got some weird, totally-not-contagious stomach bug or whatever, and you had to leave school early. That’s right up your alley, isn’t it?”

Lila still said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was no reason for Marinette to do something like that for her. If anything, it only made her more furious. “Didn’t I tell you to get away from me?” she spat.

“You approached me,” Marinette said. “And you’re mad that I’m right.”

“You’re a liar too.” It was the first thing Lila could think of, and maybe it would hurt enough to make Marinette go away for good. “You tell her that, and you’ll be just as bad as I am. Don’t you hate liars, Marinette? Do you hate yourself now?”

The only little victory was that Marinette actually paused for a moment. And that her arms loosened, and she seemed to go… disgustingly soft around the edges. “No,” she said. It didn’t matter how quiet it was; it still rang through the bathroom and scurried into the stalls, hauntingly matter-of-fact. “I don’t hate myself. And I don’t lie because I want people to like me.”

“Of course not.” Lila narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have to.”

“Neither do you,” Marinette said. “No one does. And for what it’s worth to you, not everybody loves me.”

“Good.” Lila said it without thinking, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Why should she? “It’s about time someone didn’t.”

Marinette winced, either because she was hurt or because she was holding back what she really wanted to say, and Lila loved every nanosecond of it. But otherwise, she kept her composure, and turned on her heel. “I’ll just go tell her—”

And then she paused, and Lila saw exactly why.

A butterfly.

Hawk Moth’s butterfly. Phasing through the bathroom door, all royal black and purple, and fluttering towards her.

Perfect. She’d show him. She’d show all of them how much they needed her—

“Get down!” Marinette yelled, and Lila saw and heard her tackling her to the bathroom floor before she actually felt the impact. When she sat up, Marinette was already standing up, arms spread out, firm from head to toe. Shielding her.

Lila scrambled to her feet. “What is your problem?” she nearly screeched, reaching out for the butterfly.

Marinette swatted her hand away before she could touch it. “Don’t.”

“What do you care?”

For a moment, the butterfly hesitated, and Marinette turned back to look at her. “I’m not gonna let you use your feelings to hurt other people,” she said. “And I’m not gonna let you use your feelings to hurt yourself.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh, forget it—” But she’d barely taken a step before Marinette shoved her back again—surprisingly, she was stronger than she looked—and she stumbled backwards, slamming into the wall with nearly all the wind knocked out of her. Her head throbbed, and she stumbled to find her balance again, and Marinette was still standing there, still protecting her as though she could actually do anything about it.

“What? She gripped the edge of the sink, didn’t bother to look at her reflection again. “You think you’re Ladybug now or something? What are you, her best friend? Don’t tell me you’re doing this because you pity me all of a sudden.”

“I don’t.” It was… almost exhilarating, hearing Marinette talk through her teeth like that. “I don’t pity you. Not for how you’ve strung people along, and not for how you’ve treated me. And I don’t have to be Ladybug to know what she values. But when Ladybug says that everyone deserves to be protected, she means you, too. I don’t care how much you hate her. I don’t care how much you hate me. But I’m not gonna just stand here and be okay with you making choices that hurt people.”

“People?” Lila sneered. “Or Adrien?”

Marinette didn’t give her an answer. Instead, she turned to face the butterfly again, stood stock still. Its wings were still fluttering, though slower now. She took a few deep breaths, mumbled something to herself. Numbers, it sounded like. Over and over, she said them, and eventually the butterfly balked and flew backwards, through the door, away again.

She went lax, sighed in what sounded like relief, and turned toward Lila again. She looked… almost exhausted. “Your move, Lila,” she said. “I’m going back to class. As far as Miss Bustier is concerned, you went home sick.”

Finally, Lila spared herself a glance. Well. At least she looked the part. “Why?”

Marinette looked her up and down. Not a hint of judgment in her eyes. It was almost sickening. Almost. “Because you’re hurting,” she said, voice shaky as she made for the door. “And I was hurting once, too. And if someone being nice to me helped, then maybe someone being nice to you will help, too.”

The bathroom door swung open and shut behind her, and Lila was still left by the stalls, the echo of the words still taunting her. And when she was sure no one else was coming in or out again, she cried. With her back to the mirror and her fist pounding the edge of the sink, with every emotion and none she could actually name. She drowned. She’d go home, and that sticky note would still be on the kitchen counter. Adrien would still have that fencing girl, and Marinette would still be his friend, and have that guitar boy to boot. And Gabriel Agreste wouldn’t actually need her. Gabriel Agreste didn’t need her anymore.

By the time she wiped her eyes and walked out of the school building, she had already decided to prove him right.

And if Marinette Dupain-Cheng thought that some empty words and seventy seconds of shielding was going to do her any good, then she had another think coming.

#miraculous ladybug #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #gabriel agreste #mentions of adrigami and lukanette #post-miracle queen

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peachyunjinnie · 4 years

Text

❝there’s always a first time❞ hjs ― m.

― summary:

your brother seungmin is very protective over you, but one day your best friend gave you a stick and poke tattoo and you get an infection. fortunately seungmin’s friend jisung as a hobby tattoo fanatic helps you take care of it and when seungmin wasn’t there you two decide to run away.

badboy!jisung/goodgirl!reader | fluff, smut | 5.3k ↬ content warnings: swear words, the mention of alcohol and drugs. drunk/high sex, with a little size and corruption kink.

a/n: i had this idea a couple of days ago and i tried my best to get this idea into a fic, i hope you enjoy it !!

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The relationship between me and my cousin Seungmin is better than with anyone else, you could say that we could consider ourselves as siblings and even best friends. We had the same taste in humor and even better lived in the same house after my mother died right after she gave birth to me. My father ended up bringing me to my aunt and uncle at the age of 2.

Seungmin is 1 year older and has ‘BBPI’ as he calls it which means Big Brother Protection Instinct. I know, complete nonsense and as a 16-year old I don’t get why I have to be protected. Well, as Seungmin said I am still ‘his small sister’. Pathetic. As said before Seungmin is 1 year older to be exact 11 months and 28 days and has friends, for whatever reason, he has a whole group. Well, he warned me about one of them, the walking trouble: Han Jisung. He basically is the opposite of me, a 180 if you want to say it.

He stole the car of his stepfather numerous of times and I remember seeing him drunk and completely stoned in school, that I will never forget. Last year he was stumbling through the hallways of our school. His hair messy and his smile never leaving his lips. He had the hardest time trying to keep his eyes open, or even just keeping his legs moving. And the best part, he puked on his teacher's chest. It was the highlight of the whole day, no the whole semester. His stepfather thank god is very wealthy and managed to keep him in school, somehow.

I heard a lot of rumors about this Jisung and I really do not want to believe that he was in the Russian mafia boss nor do I want to believe that he killed his father and is living with his mother who helped him. It was really funny though to hear how unique and ridiculous the fantasies and the gossip was at our school, I mean a Russian mafia boss, seriously?

I hung out with my own friends, but sometimes I would get to talk and just meet my brother’s friends. In conclusion, we even had the same taste in friends. They were really nice. I really have the best friendship with Felix and Changbin. Felix firstly has an excellent taste in music and humor, secondly, he is by far one of the most concentrated gamer I’ve ever met. Changbin is just Changbin. He is kind of annoying and clingy with his friends. Which you would’ve never expected from this buff hulk. And to be completely honest with you, Changbin and Lix...are kind of cute together.

Well, with Seungmin being as protective as he is, he has told me clearly that dating is already a picky topic but dating one of his group members. I think he would be as angry as he was when I asked him what a ‘Day6′ was. He really ignored me for 3 weeks straight, with a text message saying ‘if you know who wonpil is then you are allowed to talk to me’. (stan day6, cowards.)

“Stop moving so much, I’ve done it before and you’re overreacting.” She whisper-screamed. She was nearly done with her K on my thigh, It was way bigger than I thought it would be, but it looked good.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just getting poked by a hot needle on my thigh over and over again.” My sarcasm was louder than the thoughts in my head that were shouting lines of ‘you’re so in trouble’ or ‘you will never be able to get this off your skin’.

“So.. Here we go. Done.” She said as she was looking at her masterpiece of a K on my thigh of the size of a thumb. But it looked even and nice. She has done a (The first letter of y/n) on her thigh. I cannot believe how red it was though, and swollen. Extremely swollen

“Kim, when will it be ‘okay’?” I asked her with a slight nervous undertone. I really am the biggest chicken on earth. She opened her bag and got saran wrap. She took some out and wrapped it over her creation with such a soft touch. I still cringed and squinched.

“Maybe a week or two. It doesn’t take too long.” She smiled at our bond. I smiled with her. We ended up in a big hug and stayed like this for some time before she packed her stuff and headed out.

I admired her work on my thigh and stood up, with an overwhelming pain spreading across my thigh. I couldn’t stand up on my own feet, my thigh stung extremely and harshly.

Panic rising through me, what the heck should I do now? Should I call my mom and tell her about it? Should I tell Seungmin and ask him for help? Should I just emigrate to Brazil and start my new life as a Silvia Theresa Rodriguez?

I crawled to my bed and tried my best to let the 2 years drama club pay off. I called my mom and asked for a painkiller. She came up to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Her concerned eyes scanned my body and noticed my messy hair and my pale face. I coughed.

“Mom, I-I’m sick.” She sat there and looked at me and gave me the painkiller with a glass of water.

I snatched it out of her hand and gulped the pill down as if it were the only banana in the jungle. Her concern grew faster and she shook her head.

“I’m going to call your teacher. You’re not going to school.” She said as she got off my bed and walked off with her phone in her hand, dialing the number.

After the longest 8 hours, Seungmin came home, and thank god came into my room. With a bag of McDonald's and a big smile, he went to my bed and sat down.

“Why didn’t you come to school?” He gave me the bag and with a breathtaking smell of fat and fast food filling my nose and getting the best of me.

“Oh, I am sick my head hurt a little, and mom overreacted.” I said with a huge load of fries in my mouth.

With a small pat on my thigh, he hit the right spot of the K and a shriek came out, my whole body tensing up and Seungmin looking at my covered thigh. He took the blanket off. My shorts relieving the now swollen and slightly scabbing spot.

A moment of silence filled the room and Seungmins face has gotten from a healthy color to a concerning red and then to a frightening purple.

“Surprise...” I smiled awkwardly.

“Y/N, you got a fucking tattoo...” His voice was a low growl, but still, you could clearly hear the pure panic in his voice.

“Uhm, haha yea. So I made it myself, you like it?” My shaking voice showing the state of mine. My thigh looked pretty bad and as painful as it would’ve been, without the painkillers.

“Did you disinfect it?” My whole head went blank. Of course, it was so swollen and scabbing, Kim didn’t disinfect it. My face went paler than pale and I rethought the consequences of an infection.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Get your shoes and we will get to my friend he will help you.” He really was very serious about the infection so I stood up with a numb pain, but not as overwhelming as it was yesterday. I searched for my shoes and directly followed him.

A quick bus ride and a small foot-march later there was a big but still small and cozy house. Red and white, reminding me of a red velvet cupcake. Looks fancy but is cute at the same time. The grass and the dwarfs decorating the beautiful view. A middle-aged lady working in the garden, planting in seeds and watering the red tulips.

“Hello, Mrs. Han is Jisung home?” He grinned at her.

“Oh hello, Seungmin. Nice to see you again!” She smiled at him with a motherly aura surrounding her. She hugged him and I could see that she liked Seungmin a lot. He didn’t really know what to do awkwardly stood there and let her do. She noticed me standing there and hiding behind Seungmin's tall figure and met with her warm brown eyes.

“Hello, and who are you?” she asked with a bigger smile.

“Uh, I am Seungmins sister.” I immediately trusted her and her warm embrace.

“Ah yes, I can see the model genes going in the family. You seem like you’re in a big rush to see Jisung, he’s in his room.” She told us and saw my embarrassed blush across my face as Seungmin took my hand and yanked me downstairs to where Jisung was.

The basement as a room, interesting. It was colored black and had a lot of posters of some bands that I have never heard of. There he was on his bed smoking a cigarette and admiring his newest addition to his arm, a slightly red and in saran wrapped tattoo. A small skull drinking from a glass bottle, very precise and well made. He sat there and continued to smoke.

“Seungmin, what’s up.” he took a puff. Not giving anyone a single look. His hand tapping over his forearm and keep admiring his skull.

“I need your help. My sister made a tattoo and now it’s infected. Do you know what to do?” Seungmin seemed very concerned and worried. Jisung stood up and chuckled a little.

“The little Y/N, has a tattoo?” He asked me and looked down at me.

His eyes have the same warm brown as his mothers and I weirdly trusted him regardless of his reputation. His hair was dyed a very light blonde and his face was very chubby, unlike his body which was athletic: muscular but slim. He had two tears on his face and my thoughts went crazy. Who in the actual hell did he kill and the rumors of Jisung being a Russian mafia boss came into my mind and I reconsidered if I should be worried to be in a room with him?

“Seungmin, I have some lemonade for you.” Mrs. Han's voice echoed through the basement and he looked at Jisung.

“Go for it, I will take care of her.” He gave him green light and Seungmin looked at him with a look in his eyes. Which could be translated into ‘If you hit on my sister, I will drag your corpse to the nearest forest and let you get eaten by the birds’. Jisung nodded and Seungmin went upstairs.

“So tell me, how did you do that?” He said with a smile as he pointed to my infected K. His hair falling on his face, a little messy but still perfectly proportional.

“Uhm, a long story...” He went to his desk and took out a liquid and a cotton pad. He pushed the chair next to the bed and patted the bed. I quickly sat down. Him in front of me.

“I have time, come on.” He looked up and gave me a simper. I felt a small tickle again and wanted to trust him with it.

“Well uh, my friend Kim wanted to get us bonded. She took a needle and poked my skin for some time until it was done.” He laughed a little, letting me see his whites.

“You stick and poked and didn’t disinfect it?” His eyes still on mine and not leaving the look they had, of the warm and soft chocolate brown.

“No, we didn’t and stop making fun of me- Ah-” His cold hand touching my thigh. My body stiffened and it was hard to relax.

“Calm down, relax. You wanna listen to music? disinfecting this will be a little uncomfortable.” He stood up and walked to his stereo. He took out a cassette and stuck one in. A prehistoric cassette, I haven’t seen this since I listened to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban one years ago. After some seconds of silence, ‘All The Small Things’ by blink-182 boosted through the speakers.

He turned around and sat down again and wet the pad with this liquid. He took off the wrap and the air hit the wound. It was a stinging soreness, that leads me to look away and bite my lower lip, hard.

He took the wet pad and started to clean up the wound as careful and gentle as possible, the stinging and burning pain was a very harsh rush of pain. I whined and groaned loudly.

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he was still cleaning up.

“Well, yes,” I said with a small whine.

“Good. If I see you with a new tattoo I will get you punished.” his voice getting raspier and raspier. But he still cleaned the wound up and was done with the disinfecting. He stood up again and got some of the saran wraps and pointed his finger, signaling me to stand up.

I stood up from his bed and he kneeled down to wrap it up. His hands still very cold and tickling my thigh.

“So Kim, is your friend?” His voice a little absent.

“Yes, my best.” I had to automatically smile.

“Tell me about her, how is she like?” I was surprised at his interest in my personal life but answered him.

“Oh, um she is reckless and she never thinks about her actions. She makes out stupid things that I have to box her out of. But she also has a nice and gentle side that not many know. I love her a lot.” I smiled at our memories and how easy it was to be myself around her.

As I was in my thoughts, Jisung took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a glass. He gets him a good amount and gets another glass after seeing my big eyes. After a long friendship with Kim who was known for drinking, I have never drunk any alcohol, well until today. He gave me a glass full of brown fluid.

“I- I can’t believe we did that.” I laughed as Jisung was holding my hand walking on an abandoned street in the middle of nowhere. He had given me a big sip of the whiskey, it was a burning sensation of my taste buds being confused and curious for more.

“It’s better, not being sober right?” He asked stumbling into the sunset.The bitter taste of the alcohol and the adrenaline of me running away with a friend of my brother without his permission. I felt every single touch of his hand tightening and holding my hand in his clutches not letting go.

“Come on drink it, Y/N. The painkillers are not going to help you any better than Jackie will.” He smiled and waved the glass in front of my nose. I mean I never was drunk and I want to know what it’s like. My curiosity and stupidity have gotten control of me and I accepted with a shaky hand.

I took a small sip of the whiskey and the bitter and stinging sensation was so disgusting. I couldn’t swallow it and started to look around for somewhere to spit it at. But with Jisung forcing me to look up at him with his fingers, pushing my head upwards.

“Swallow it, now.” his eyes burning holes into mine and letting me breathless with no other choice other than swallow. I gulped the fluid down and the burn in my throat was unbelievably harsh.

“Good girl, now. If Seungmin sees your ass drunk this will be very dangerous for both us. Do you have any other clothes or is this everything you’ve got?” He already searched in his closet and gave me a black hoodie with some jeans.

“Here you go. Hurry up, my mom is not going to keep him for any longer.” He went upstairs and left me with there a little tipsy and with some clothes from this boy that I barely knew.

After getting them on I noticed the size difference, Jisung has it in L. On me it was XXL. The size was really funny and the jeans that should hug his waist like they are on the ones he is wearing, are now hanging from my pelvic bone. I saw my reflection of the mirror and busted out in laughter.

Jisung came down and looked at my new outfit, and laughed as well. He came in front of me and squished my cheeks. He played with them and ruffled my hair into a mess, I officially am looking like I just woke up with my PJ’s.

“You look so cute, this stuff is the tightest clothing that I have and your body is just sliding through.” He smiled and looked into my eyes, his hands still cupping my cheeks. A strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes leaving him, mixing with his cologne.

He stepped back and admired this baggy look. He had a hand on his chin, thinking about what can make it look even better than it already does. With an idea in his mind he sought for.... a belt.

He took the of course black belt and put it over my waist. I almost wanted to remind him that I am not a toddler and can put on a belt myself, but the sudden closeness of him and his firm grip on his jeans on me. My heart did a small tap dance, but he continued to put it on with no sign of hesitation.

“This looks better. Take your shoes and let’s get out of here.” Trouble, that was what I am going to get after this. Am I out of my mind going with Jisung with no other thought? Am I dumb for trusting this dude that threw up on his teacher's chest in the hallway last year?

He packed his bag with a shit ton of bottles and some other stuff that I don’t even want to know what it is, the curiosity of what is in this bag now really bugged me. What did he have in this bag? He started to notice my glare on his black backpack.

“You ever had drugs, little one?” He asked as if it was the most normal thing to ask a 16-year-old. If I ever had drugs, the small sips of this weird and burning stuff and the coffee I had in the morning.

“N-No.” My stutter surprised me and the sudden tension started to get harder and intense. My subconscious shouted in my head to get out and go home with Seungmin, but this Jisung really had something and I wanted to explore that.

“There’s always a first time and I needed to go out anyway. You wanna meet my friends?” His smirk was absolutely precious and there was no way in hell that I could say no to this face. After my agreement, he smiled even brighter than before. He took some of his rings and gave those to me and some chains. I looked so different from what I daily wear and with a hat my appearance was complete.

“I-It’s so much better. Not having this pressure.” After another big gulp of the whiskey, he threw the bottle to the road and opened his bag. A see-through water like a bottle. He gave it to me and I opened it after some seconds of struggle. We stumbled through the sunset of the lonely and empty roads of a beautiful panorama.

“Le-Let’s sit down for a while. I am so ti-tired.” I laughed and sat down on the empty road. He joined me and took the opened vodka bottle from me and took a small sip after gasping dramatically and getting a green bag out of his pocket. It looked like leaves and after a long time of finding out what it was, I knew it when he started to build a joint.

I took the bottle and drank the alcohol. I couldn’t believe this scenario, I am drunk and I am about to get high. I will get so much damage for this one night, but it still felt like it was a Bonnie and Clyde after play. Such a euphoric moment, and a moment I would’ve never have dreamed of.

So deep in my own thoughts and my own actions and with this alcohol in my hands, I didn’t see that Jisung was already done with his work. He saw my lazy eyes and pointed out to his bag.

“Hey, listen to music on my phone the code is 0325.” I crawled over to his bag and searched for the perfect song and here it was. New Flesh by the Current Joys, a carefree and a lighthearted song. The song started playing and Jisung snickered.

“I start to really learn a new si-side of you. Little miss Y/N.” He finished his joint and licked it clean. He grabbed in his bag and pulled out speakers. This bag really is a survival kit. He connected them to his phone and the music blasted out with such an enormous volume.

He took out his lighter and the fire sneaked it’s way through the marijuana and gives out a really unique smell. He seemed relaxed and fell on his back. He now was lying on the hard and cold cement road, his little relaxing tool between his fingers.

“So you never smoked before, like ever?”He has gotten up again and let his arm over my shoulder, giving me a really focused look.

“N-Nah.” I giggled for no reason. My head felt dizzy and my vision getting blurry after breathing in second-hand smoke.

“So I’m gonna show you, ho-how to do it the right way.” He smiled and almost closing his eyes completely.

He took my face into his hand and held the joint on the other hand. He gave it to me and I held it the best way I could, trying to let it fall down. I took a big hit and coughed all of the smoke out in a matter of 3 seconds.

He laughed uncontrollably and as he was laughing my head started to turn, my stomach started to growl and my mouth was getting dry. I honestly did not expect it to work that easily but I felt the difference in my body. I took another puff of it and another.

With a little time it has gotten easier and better to not cough. Jisung after not talking for what seemed like a whole eternity, started to notice that the sky is getting darker. He saw a whole field next to the road and threw his stuff in there and threw himself as well.

“Come here! The field is soft.” He shouted from his new spot and I giggled and jumped on top of him. His laugh resounded through the emptiness surrounding us and my giggle became a little quieter when I felt his hand on my hip. As before, when he put on the belt for me, my face grew hot and my eyes stayed on him and I played with his hair. He stroked my body with his fingertips, it feeling like electric wires rushing through my hot body.

I leaned down and then kissed his soft lips. Right at this moment I didn’t care about anyone. My brother, my parents, my friends not even my own thoughts that screamed in my head to cut it off and go home. I wanted to live and wanted to enjoy, feel this moment. Exactly live in this moment right here and there. In a field in the middle of nowhere with the music still blasting somewhere near us and the taste of alcohol still running through my mouth and most importantly, Jisung being right here and there.

“I d-don’t want to pressure you to anything, Y/N.-” I shushed him up with another kiss and his smile making the butterflies in my tummy explode into a mess. He tucked on his hoodie and leaned into my ear.

“I am sure you look even better without my hoodie on.”

I giggled loudly, his hand getting lost on the inside of my hoodie. Grasping on my bra and massaging it softly. My world turning in circles and the music still playing on the highest volume from the speakers, somewhere in the grass.

“I want you, now.” I said, looking down to him. I took off my hoodie and threw it next to Jisung beneath me. His hands still on me, my hair falling down to the side of his face. I was needy and what could feed this hunger was him.

“If your brother could see his little girl…” he smiled at my face being some small inches in front of his. the taste of the marijuana in my mouth mixed with the strong vodka and whiskey was driving me into the dumbest things.

I kissed his soft lips, touching them a little and his tongue rolling with mine. He tasted like danger and everything forbidden for me, giving me a thrill of my life. I continued to go down his neck, sucking the best I could making it hard due to the lack of energy.

“You’re doing great, little one.” He moaned when I once reached his hard and perky abs, leaving a trail of bruises and hickeys all the way down here. He groaned once I unlocked his belt and pushed his jeans down to his boxers. The outline of his dick was hardly poking out, getting me to an idea of my first blowjob ever.

I pulled the off and there he was, poking at me. The hard and red tip, cum dripping on them slightly. I took him in my hands, carefully pumping him. His eyes following my actions his whines and stares telling me to put him in my mouth, I couldn’t get him all in, him laughing at me trying my hardest to deepthroat.

“Your little mouth is amazing.” He mumbled with his eyes closed tightly, his hands getting lost in my hair. Moans and grunts getting me wetter and wetter. I couldn’t breathe and with my mouth being filled up completely, my eyes turning to the back of my head.

I backed up and took some time to breathe, a string of saliva connecting my lips with his wet and throbbing dick. He pushed his hair back, his hand still on my head, grabbing and pulling at it hardly. I choked lightly on his pressure on my head, pushing me down and forcefully getting me down. After some seconds of complete silence he let go and a broken groan echoed through my dizzy head.

“Uh fuck, how can this small mouth get all that in?” He smiled looking down at me with his lazy eyes on the string of saliva connecting his tip to my lips. I started to laugh out, the feeling of a dick in my mouth reminding me of a Popsicle. He laughed as well, this whole scenario being unbelievable. It was deep dark outside, the only light being the lanterns of the side street and the moon, shining out heavily. The wheat among us, the music that still played beside us.

He suddenly stopped giggling immediately and closed his eyes. His head was thrown to the ground and he held my head in his hands, still thrusting into my mouth hardly.

“Wh-Where can I c-cum?” He stuttered and I just continued to bop my head down his length, feeling every inch in my mouth, I choked a little on the twitch of his cock. “Fuuuck.” He groaned loud through the hard beats of the music. I felt his dick twitch again in my throat and as I moaned the vibrations got him to spill his load into my mouth. The warm liquid running through my throat, I choked once again and the shivers went down my spine mercilessly.

“Ah fuck.” He tried to collect his breath, moaning more curse words. I still sucked at the tip and popped him out of my mouth, his seeds running down my lips. I looked up at his brown eyes, stars above us reflecting in them. He had the warmest and softest expression on his face, starring down at my cum filled mouth, trying my hardest to swallow everything.

“Now it’s your turn, princess.”

226 notes · View notes

elixkatsu · 3 years

Text

WHO ARE YOU ? - chapter 2

about: kenma x kuroo | kinda sad | fluff | very pg rated | slight hanahaki

the boy frantically put the items in the customers bag before he felt a light hand grip on his own with a gentle touch.

“relax” kuroo said has his big hands covered kenma’s smaller ones, stopping the boys frazzled movements.

this however, didn’t stop the fact that kuroo’s rib cage was facing a fatal beating as his heart pulsated rapidly.

kenma slowly retracted his hands ... “that’ll be $4.35 please” kenma said softly, keeping his head down.

“long time, no see” kuroo said, putting his money on the tray provided on the counter top.

kenma nodded, humming in response “mhm”

“and how have you been ?”

“getting by just fine, kuroo”

“you keep calling me that”

“well, what do you expect me to call you ?”

“testu...like you used to”

“well that was a while ago ... kuroo. hate to break it to you but some things don’t last forever”

“what’s that supposed to mean ?”

“take it as you will. but the universe must’ve separated us for a reason”

“and it brought us back together again.” kuroo teased leaning over the counter a little before standing back, pacing slowly as he continued.

“isn’t there a saying that you have to let your lover go and if you find each other again, you’re meant to be.” he stopped in his tracks before looking over at the other.

“yes, lovers. which means it’s not referring to us.” kenma said through a soft chuckle.

“still as kind as ever i see” kuroo laughed, cupping his chin in his palm, leaning down to rest his elbow on the counter top.

“well i learnt from the best, didn’t i ?” kenma replied, lips pursed together.

“i’d have to agree” kuroo smiled once more.

“nice jacket....”

“why, thank you.” kuroo accepted the compliment, taking a step back, gesturing to the red track jacket he still had from his high school days, in an exaggerated manner.

“still got yours ?”

“always, it’s just back at my parents place” kenma shrugged.

“you don’t live with them anymore ?” kuroo said, tilting his head to the side in question.

“i live in the dorms at my uni.” kenma said, his attention focused on his fiddling hands which rested on the counter.

“what university?”

“nezaki.....not too far from here”

“wait, really ?” kuroo slammed his hands on the counter with, surprise present on his face.

“i go there. why haven’t i seen you around ?” he furrowed his brows.

“probably because we take different courses” kenma said in a sarcastic tone, stating the obvious.

“and your course is ?”

“computer sciences. your course has gotta be chem, right ?” kenma said bluntly, looking up at the boy again.

“.....right.” kuroo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks flushed a little.

“well you better get going, right ? it’s getting dark”

“well okay...” kuroo stayed silent for a moment before heading towards the entrace. “uh have a nice night, kenma”

“actually..” kuroo stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel to face the smaller boy once more with a smirk that filled kenma’s stomach with intruders known as ‘butterflies’. he hated it.

“since the universe brought us back together ....” he shrugged his shoulders , looking anywhere but at kenma.

“shouldn’t we thank it by re-uniting properly ?” he questioned, catching the boys eyes whilst uttering the last word.

“and how will we do that exactly ?” kenma tilted his head to the side in confusion and curiosity.

“computer cafe ? saturday ? 3:00 pm sharp. the one near tobu-nerima station ?”

kenma hummed in response, nodding his head.

with that, kuroo left, leaving kenma alone in the store. the only thing he could hear was the pounding echo of his heart in his chest, ringing in his ears.

“calm down, calm down, calm down” he muttered to himself as he picked up his switch once more, taking a seat.

——————————-

kuroo got back to the dorms later than expected, his boyfriend already sound asleep.

he headed over to his bed, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling in silence as he kicked off his shoes.

“kozuki...” he muttered before pulling out his phone and flipping over to his stomach.

[rooster_head]: hey zuki, you up ?

[kozuki] : always am, what’s up ?

[rooster_head]: you free tomorrow ?

[kozuki]: yes, i am actually.

[rooster_head]: wanna meet up ?

[kozuki] well, you know....i still don’t know of you’re a serial killer, my dude.

[rooster_head]: that’s what’s thrilling about it all, kozu!

[rooster_head]: cant make any promises or it’ll ruin the suspense.

[kozuki] fine...

[kozuki] where are we meeting, exactly ?

[rooster_head]: onigiri miya, near tobu-nerima station. 12:00 pm sharp.

[kozuki]: that’s too early.

[rooster_head] you need to experience the sun again, i know you’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks, kozu.

[kozuki] this is peer pressure ... but fine.

———————————————-

onigiri miya.

“pretty” kozuki whispered to himself as he entered the small establishment. he was the first to arrive. it seemed to be a family run business. the white paint on the walls were complimented with beautiful paintings. it had a minimalistic feel to it. there was also a tv plastered on the wall which seemed to be playing a sport.

volleyball to be exact.

kozuki headed to the counter to order a water as he waited for his friend to arrive.

“samu, new customer.” upon noticing his arrival, a middle aged woman behind the counter yelled as a tall grey haired boy in a black t-shirt and a matching apron jogged up to the other side of the counter.

“what can i get for you today ?” he smiled.

he looked familiar, yet kozuki couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“water, please.”

“is ... that all ?” the boy questioned.

“for now, yes. im waiting for a friend and i don’t want to seem rude and order without him present.” kenma said softly.

the cashier nodded, moving over to the refrigerator to grab the water bottle, giving kozuki the time to look over at the screen once more. catching a glimpse of a boy with golden, and sweaty, hair. the cashier placed the water on the counter top, his eyes following the costumers to watch the tv aswell.

“ah, atsumu.” the cashier, sumu is what the lady called him, said.

“my brother. he’s pretty cool, right ? don’t tell him i said that, it’d go straight to his head” he laughed

“thought you looked familiar...” kozuki said, his head tilting to the side.

“you like volleyball ?”

“a little, i used to play back in high school.” kenma shrugged slightly.

“ah, really ? what team were you in ?”

“nekoma high.”

“that name rings a bell. you guys were pretty good from what i heard.” osamu said, in thought.

“from what you heard ?”

“yeah, i used to play back in high school too, inarizaki.”

“ah, yeah. you were in the top four, weren’t you ?”

“yes, yes we were.”

“i remember watching you verse karasuno from the stands like it was yesterday.”

“yeah, that was pretty nerve wracking.”

“do you still play ?”

“as a hobby, yes. but atsumu has always loved volleyball just a little more than i did and decided to take it up as a career. i however, prefer a relaxing way of living.” he sighed looking at the tv once more.

“sorry for keeping you, i’ll let you go now” osamu laughed, gesturing towards the seats provided in the cafe.

“it was lovely talking to you” he smiled.

kozuki nodded in response, heading over to the seating provided.

he pulled out his phone to text the friend he’s been waiting for.

[kozuki] im here

[rooster_head] you are ? so am i! are you downstairs ?

[kozuki] yes, i am.

[rooster_head] im coming down right now, what are you wearing ?

[kozuki] white button up, black sweater vest and blue jeans

{rooster_head is typing.....}

kozuki looked up at the sound of the chair in front of him scraping against the wooden floor.

“we have got to stop meeting like this.” said a smiling kuroo, chin resting in his hands as his elbow rested on the table.

“fancy seeing you here ... rooster head” kenma joked.

“i’d say it’s destiny...” kuroo smiled.

#kuroo #kenma #kurooken #kuroo fluff #kenma fluff #kuroo angst #kenma angst #nekoma angst #nekoma fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfic

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lost-your-memory · 4 years

Note

Supercat prompt: stuck in an elevator together. Bonus if Kara starts to feel a bit claustrophobic at some point and Cat , in her own unique way, helps her through it.

It’s not exactly as short as I thought it’d be and it’s a little … out of characters, maybe, I’m a little rusty, but it’s something! Thank you for the prompt darling!TW : panic attack —

“Kara! Finally! Where are you? Andrea’s looking for you and she’s like hell on heels, even more so than usual!”

“Crap …” Kara swore, dodging a few people on the street as she ran. “I blew my powers, I’m running at a desperately human pace … I’m on my way though, try to stall for just a little longer, please?”

“You blew your powers? Oh god, this is not good …” Nia was whispering but, despite not having her super-hearing right now, Kara could hear the panic and the worry in her voice.

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” Kara retorted, taking a turn and crossing a road. A few horns went off as she ran in the middle of a busy avenue.

“Kara!” Nia exclaimed on the line. “You’re human now, don’t forget to look both ways before crossing a road … or you know, just wait for the light to be green! I’m pretty sure your boss won’t like it if you die on the way or worse, if you end up in the hospital …”

Kara chuckled and sped up on the sidewalk, making her way toward the CatCo building. She was out of breath already but as she crossed the lobby, she let out a relieved sigh.

“What’s so funny?”

Kara waved the receptionist hello as she moved to the elevators hall. “You make her sound like some kind of Miranda Priestly …”

“You’re no Andy though, that would be me” Nia laughed and then paused. “Isn’t she though, in some ways?”

All of the lifts were busy in the higher floors and she was running out of time. After some seconds of hesitation, she decided that, for once, she’ll take the private elevator. She ran to it and pressed the button, the doors opening almost right away. Looking at her watch to check the time, Kara entered the elevator and turned around to be ready to exit it as quickly as possible.

“Oh no she’s not. You never worked for Cat Grant but I can assure you, Andrea Roja is just a tiny purring and clawless kitten next to the former queen of all medias … If someone should be compared to Miranda, it would be Cat.”

“Why, thank you, I’ll take the compliment.”

Kara jumped a good five inches in the air and dropped her phone, already turning around.

Cat Grant, in all her glory, was standing in the back of the elevator.

Wrapped in a daring blue power pantsuit, she was perched atop a pair of vertiginous black heels that matched the leather vest thrown across her shoulder, held on by only one finger. A black purse was hanging by her elbow at her other arms and she was toying with one branch of her huge sunglasses with her free hand. Her hair was a little shorter now, of a lighter shade of blond that highlighted the sun-tan of her skin.

Her trademark smirk was floating on her lips, her piercing green eyes solely focused on Kara.

“Which made you my Andrea Sach, I suppose, for quite some time … Although I never got to witness the wardrobe update, until today …”

Cat’s gaze traveled from Kara’s face to her figure and all the way down to the shoes, before coming back up, ever so slowly.

“Kara? Kara is everything alright? Did you fell? Do you need any help?”

Nia’s voice came through the phone on the floor, distant and muffled, but Kara was too shocked to move.

“Are you going to answer your friend?” Cat asked, arching an expectant brow. “She sounds worried, whoever she is …”

Kara eventually bent over to pick up her phone and brought it to her ear. She felt out of her own skin, as if she was some kind of gosht looking at the scene from another angle of the elevator.

“I … gotta go. Bye,” Kara mechanically said to her friend and she instantly hung up, without listening to the protests on the other end of the line.

“What … what are you doing here?” Kara managed to ask without stuttering too much.

She still couldn’t believe Cat Grant was here, in National City, in the CatCo building and moreover, in her former private elevator. Today, of all days.

A migraine started to pound behind her eyes and she could feel her heartbeat, erratic and frantic, drum against her temples.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Supergirl?” Cat smirked again, before a frown appeared above her eyes. “Although I’m guessing you’re not so Super today …”

Kara didn’t even try to deny it.

She’d figured Cat already knew about her alter-ego, probably has known for quite some time already. She had even suspected it was one of the reasons behind Cat’s sudden leave of absence but Alex had told her, in not so gentle terms, that it was probably just wishful thinking.

“I’m powerless these days, yes,” Kara nodded, still struggling to come to terms with what was happening.

She was mostly answering out of habit because Cat Grant still had that commanding aura of authority surrounding her and she’d never been able to resist it. Not that she’d tried very hard, in the first place, Kara absentmindedly thought.

“A regretful aftermath of this … crisis on infinite earths, or whatever name you superheros gave to this ridiculous crossover that put all of you on the same planet, I assume?” Cat mused, casually making her glasses swirl around her hand.

Kara gritted her teeth and looked away, forcing herself to suck in a deep breath.

She mentally counted to five before opening her mouth to answer but at the exact same moment, the elevator abruptly stopped.

The brutal move made her lose her balance and she instinctively reached for the handlebar, preventing herself from ending on the floor. The lights went off and for a few seconds, total darkness reigned in the elevator. Then, a generator kicked in and the emergency lighting in the ceiling took over, brightening the space with a dim blue aura.

“That’s certainly new,” Cat’s voice echoed in the lift. “I’m guessing no one ever bothered with maintenance, after my departure …”

Kara glanced at the former queen of all medias.

Cat was still standing against the back of the lift but her leather jacket, her purse and her sunglasses were on the floor. She’d wrapped both her hand around the handlebar, on either side of her silhouette. She didn’t look scared though, merely annoyed.

Cat’s seemingly anodin words suddenly hit Kara. As far as she knew, no one ever rode the private lift anymore. She wasn’t even sure it had been used since Cat left, which meant their current situation could very well be a serious and dangerous issue.

Her heart skipped a beat and then raced again and she felt it pulsing in her head, in her fingertips and against her ribcage. The migraine behind her eyes migrated to her forehead and then spread everywhere as sweat started to form at the base of her hairline, above her lips and in between her shoulder-blades.

“Kara? Are you alright?” Cat’s voice echoed again, worried this time.

They were standing next to each other but to Kara, the words sounded distant, as if coming from very far away. She shook her head and tried to focus, but white stars were starting to cloud her vision. A heavy numbness was taking over her body, making her feel like she was floating and sinking at the same time.

“No one … the lift … it hasn’t been … used …” Kara tried, forcing the words out of her mouth and focusing on what she wanted to say. “You left.”

“I did, yes,” Cat replied, sounding entirely too casual for Kara’s liking. “Almost three years ago, but who’s counting …”

Her legs were starting to shake and Kara slowly let herself slide against the side of the lift, until she was sat on the ground.

She knew she was having a panic attack, it wasn’t the first time but this one seemed like it was going to be a really strong, intense one. Usually, some breathing exercises and a few Kryptonian litanies would do the trick and calm her down but she could tell it wasn’t going to work this time.

“I am,” Kara eventually replied, slowly turning her head to focus on Cat.

Since the former queen of all media was still standing up, Kara had to look up and the move made the white stars in her eyes grow. The migraine in her head drum rolled against her temples and so Kara closed her eyes and looked back down, bringing her knees to her chest and circling them with her arms. She rested her forehead against her knees and started to count.

“I know you are. You’ve been sending emails and letters, almost every months since I left,” Cat said, her words sounding even more distant now. “Carter was always so happy to hear back from you …”

The mention of Carter made Kara feel a little better, warmer. They’ve been corresponding pretty regularly over the years and they even talked to each other on the phone a few times.

Kara remembered Carter used to have panic attack too. She’d been the one to reassure him, to help him out and to tell him panic attacks were nothing to be ashamed off, that she had them too. They found out together, during one of his most intense attacks, that reciting the various dinosaurs species was his personal trick to calm down.

Cat’s voice echoed again around the lift but Kara was too unfocused to understand.

She still caught the words “situation”, “hurry”, “unemployment” and “waiting” and her brain connected the dots. She figured Cat had called for help, using the emergency button of the elevator’s board, and threatened whoever had answered if they didn’t hurry to get them out.

Glancing up to feel her surrounding, she saw that Cat had sat down in front of her, against the other side of the life. Somewhere in a corner of her mind, a voice told her she must be dreaming because there was no reality in which Cat Grant would ever sit on the floor. It almost made her smile, but the migraine took over and it made her wince instead.

“I know my son recites the dinosaur’s species to calm down. What do you recite?” Cat asked as she caught Kara’s glance. She was speaking slowly and articulating every word.

Kara anchored herself into Cat’s green eyes and took some time to gather the words she needed to answer. Her brain was all muddy and slow, she was struggling to just breathe but she knew she has to focus.

“The planets in Rao’s system,” she eventually replied. She’d been repeating them over and over and over in her mind but it wasn’t working. “It’s not … working.”

“You need to say it out loud,” Cat replied, gently. ”I think I now know about 25 kind of dinosaurs, just by listening to Carter recite them …”

Kara sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled.

She couldn’t discern the color of Cat’s eyes in the relative darkness of the elevator but her memories were still intact and it was as she could see the golden specks swirl into the hazel irises.

“Out of … thousands, it’s not … much …” Kara breathed, her voice coming out laboured and short.

Cat arched a surprise brow and it took some time before she muttered “I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed that you are able to be sassy in such a situation …”

Kara wanted to smirk but her body wasn’t answering to her anymore. Her head was throbbing like hell, her limbs were numb and heavy, almost paralyzed, and there were still some white stars in her eyes.

“Tell me about Rao’s system?”

Cat tilted her head to the side, like she did when she expected Kara to hand over whatever she’d previously asked for.

Kara suddenly remembered giving away one of her own latte because of this look. She also remembered that Cat had drank the cinnamon flavored drink, even if it was nothing like her regular order, without making any comment whatsoever.

Kara shook her head, very slowly because she didn’t want to worsen her migraine, and said “You … first. What are you … doing … here?”

Cat’s lips twitched and then a smirk made it appearance.

“The last time you were this brazen, you were under the influence of some kind of weird substance …” Cat reminisced. “Seeing that you can pull it off in the middle of a panic attack … I’m definitely impressed now.”

Kara still couldn’t smirk but she wanted to. Instead, she mimicked Cat’s posture and tilted her head.

“Fine, I suppose I can tell you …” Cat heavily sighed, making it clear that she was admitting her defeat. She didn’t look too bothered though, Kara distractingly noticed through her migraine and the sweat that rolled down her face and clouded her eyes.

“I’m here to buy CatCo back,” Cat announced, her voice clear and lined with steel. “This company has became a running joke ever since I left and it’s about time I take over, before this clawless, purring little kitten run it into the ground.”

Kara didn’t move but her skepticism must have showed somehow because Cat chuckled.

“I’m late, I’m aware, yes. James, Lena, Andrea … I probably should have come back a long time ago, but I didn’t. I don’t have any excuse really, I’ve enjoyed my life in the meantime but now I’m ready to claim my throne back.”

Kara was breathing a little easier but a fanfare was still marching in her head, sweat was soaking her hair and her shirt and she still couldn’t move a finger. She mulled over Cat’s words. Something suddenly came back to her.

“You … promised… you’d be … back,” Kara breathed, still managing to sound accusatory.

“Yes, and here I am. Better late than never, as the saying goes …” Cat instantly replied, without any hint of guilt or regret in her voice.

Kara wanted to protest but she knew it’d be wasting energy she didn’t even have.

Three years or so might have gone by but Cat Grant was still the stubborn piece of work she’d been when Kara was her assistant.

“Rao … it’s … it was … the sun,” Kara started, only realizing how much of a bad idea it was.

It was her first panic attack since the crisis happened and it suddenly felt like she was losing her world all over again. She knew that it wasn’t exactly the same but to realize that, across every universe in the multiverse, Krypton had disappeared everytime made her anxiety spike up, drastically so.

Cat seemed to understand.

“Alright, so maybe not this litany. Do you have something else?” Cat asked, gesturing with her hand for Kara to focus on her. “I mean, I can’t imagine Kara Danvers having a panic attack in public and reciting some planet names no one ever heard of … It would have attracted some attention, back in the old days when aliens weren’t public knowledge …”

Kara wanted to let out the hollow laugh that resonated in her head, through the pain of her migraine. She couldn’t, though. Talking was requiring a lot of effort and she had to save her energy to stay conscious, at the very least.

“Alex … the cars. We … we used to … fix … cars,” Kara answered, hoping Cat would be able to make out what she meant.

“Really? That’s … unexpected,” Cat smiled, sounding intrigued. “Although I met your sister once or twice, I can totally see it but you?”

“I liked … mechanics. It was … something … to focus … on,” Kara explained. “We fixed … a Chevy Impala, once.”

Cat let out a slight whistle and the sound made Kara wince.

“Sorry,” Cat instantly apologised. “What year, the car?”

Kara looked at her former boss with surprise and again, it must have showed because Cat smirked and then shrugged. “I like cars, yes. So what year?”

“‘67, I remember … Of a deep … bottle green … color. Took us … almost … two years … to get it … to work,” Kara retorted, trying to focus on the memories. “Alex took it for … a road trip afterward and … she brought me … along. Lasted two … months.”

Cat nodded “Sounds like a good memory. Where did you go?”

This time, Kara managed to offer half a smile. She felt her lips twitch upward and stretch, which meant progress.

“Arizona. Utah. Colorados. New Mexico. Texas …” Kara took a deep breath and focused. “Oklahomas. Kansas …”

That made Cat snicker but she didn’t comment.

“Nebraska. Both Dakota. Montana. Wyoming …” Kara trailed off and frowned. Her body was starting to obey her again, she noticed. She kept going. “Idaho. Oregon. Nevada … and all along the California coast, back to Midvale.”

“Sounds like a very long trip,” Cat commented. “You visited quite a few states … where was your favorite spot then?”

Kara thought back on the road trips and the many landscapes she discovered during this summer. She’d liked everything back then, every big city they drive through, the Grand Canyon, Wyoming’s plains and Kansas regular fields, Oregon’s dunes and so on but in the end, there was only one place that topped them all.

“I don’t have … one. My favorite spot was … riding shotgun in … Alex’s car.”

Cat didn’t reply right away but Kara saw the gentle smile that floated on her lips for a few seconds. It disappeared rather quickly though and, despite her particular state, Kara still felt a little disappointed.

“You mentioned the cars, plural … what other car did you fix with your sister?” Cat eventually questioned, showing that she was still a journalist at heart. It made Kara want to chuckle because no matter what, Cat never got sidetracked.

“A Cadillac, serie ‘62, convertible,” Kara replied and this time, she didn’t wince when Cat whistled. The former queen of all media looked impressed and slightly envious. “Alex’s masterpiece but… the color… sucked.”

“Oh really? Well, it couldn’t have been so bad … It’s such a fine car! A little … has been, nowadays, but such a classic …”

“It was … Barbie pink.”

Cat made a face Kara could only describe as outraged. Kara had only saw this expression on Cat a handful of time and one of them had been because someone had compared her to Lois Lane.

“You can’t be serious!” Cat protested, as if the mere idea of such a color was a personal affront. “That’s not even …”

Kara tried to move her head and when she noticed she could, she slowly nodded.

“It’s not a color, I agree … yet, the car was … as pink as … one of Buffy’s lipstick.”

“Such a fine car … It’s criminal. Although, Sarah Michelle Gellar could certainly pull it off just fine, back then. Not so much today though and someone should let her know …” Cat shook her head and pursed her lips, like she always did when someone committed a fashion faux-pas.

“You know … the actress?” Kara asked, clearly sounding a little dumbstruck.

Of course she knew Cat was extremely famous and that she evolved in a lot of different circles and yet somehow, she always managed to forget about it. It took weird occurrences like these to get a reminded.

“Oh yes, we have drinks once or twice a year. Aside from her tendency to live in the past when it comes to fashion, she’s a sweetheart,” Cat waved her hand in the air, a dismissal gesture that told Kara the topic was closed. “What other cars did you and your sister managed to get your hands on?”

“We fixed a Mustang Fastback, 1967. Maybe my favorite,” Kara said with a small smile. “A red one, it was a wreck when Alex brought it in … Took us a little less than a year to put it back together.”

“How comes your sister managed to have such fancy, expensive cars to fix?” Cat asked with a frown.

“In Midvale, we have a garage that specialises in this kind of automobiles … Alex used to work there every summer … Started when she was 14 years old and still today … she helps around whenever we go for … vacations of just for a few days.” Kara explained, instantly noticing she could form longer sentences now, despite her still laboured breath.

“Makes sense, I suppose …” Cat nodded. She seemed about to say something else when a voice came through the elevator’s line, asking if they were still there.

“Actually no, we went out for a drink, we’ll be back a little later … Why do you think!” Cat sassed, her voice sharp and cutting as she stood up to get closer to the board.

The man on the other side of the line coughed a little and then apologized, before explaining that help was on the way and should arrive in ten to fifteen minutes.

“About damn time,” Cat growled and Kara, force of habit, felt a little bad for their interlocutor.

The emergency lighting suddenly flickered. It lasted a few seconds, before it disappeared altogether.

It’s all it took to make Kara’s anxiety ten times worse.

The numbness in her limbs, which had been slowly reducing during her exchange with Cat, started again and spread even faster this time. She couldn’t feel her legs, her hands nor her face anymore. She could still hear her breathing though, extremely fast and laboured. She knew she was on the verge of wheezing.

“I have a confession to make,” Cat’s voice echoed through the closed space. Kara couldn’t see her but she had this strange feeling she was close. Closer than she’d been before. “When I told you I needed to leave in order to dive, I didn’t tell you the truth.”

Kara wanted to retort with a sassy reply, something along the lines of ‘no kidding’ but she was unable to speak. She was focusing on her breathing, going over and over and over the cars she’d just talked about, in her head.

Still, when Cat spoke again, she listened.

“I mean, it was part of the truth, I needed to do something else, something new but in the end …” Cat paused and Kara felt something move next to her. “I was … running away.”

Kara was grateful for the fact Cat wasn’t touching her. In her current state, it would only make things worse. They were sat down side by side on the elevator’s floor, in total darkness, but there was still some space left in between them.

The sound of Cat’s voice, piercing the obscurity of the space, was somehow soothing. Kara choose to focus on it instead of trying to reign over her panic, which was only making it worse.

“I have to admit,” Cat let out with a dry chuckle “This wasn’t exactly how I planned to tell you about this particular topic but since there’s not time like the present and you clearly need a distraction …”

Again, Kara wanted to snap back but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“I promoted you to this journalist position you were destined to occupy. I gave you an office, put you in Snapper’s team and then watched you rise to the opportunity … In the middle of it, I realized that … I was missing you.”

That got Kara’s attention, efficiently distracting her from her anxiety just long enough for her to croak a disbelieving “What?”

“Oh, you speak now!” Cat said, somehow managing to make it sound like a cutting criticism. “You heard me. I was missing you but what’s striking about it is that I wasn’t missing my assistant, however competent and efficient you were in this role.”

Kara blinked.

She thought maybe her anxiety has gotten so bad at this point that she was hallucinating, imagining Cat saying all those things she’d once wanted to hear so badly.

Wishful thinking, Alex had said, dismissively.

“I was missing you, Kara Danvers,” Cat breathed, her voice a little lower this time. It sounded like an admission, a little shy but there nonetheless. “The constant questions you used to ask that pushed me to be a better version of myself. The subtle soothing smile you did when someone would get on my nerves and that prevented me from going ballistic. The reprobative eyebrow when I was too sharp, too blunt or just too mean to someone who didn’t deserve it. The way you listened, truly listened, when I talked, especially when it was about Carter. Your ridiculous rambling about one thing or another, the pure wonder in your eyes when you learned something and for God’s sake I was even missing those awfully colorful cardigans of yours.”

Kara’s mind was spinning but this time, she was pretty sure her anxiety has nothing to do with it. Cat’s words echoed in her mind, beating a rhythm along with her receding migraine.

“That’s when I realized something. I had … developed feelings, for you,” Cat said with just a hint of annoyance in her voice, something that proved Kara wasn’t imagining things.

“Inappropriate, unwanted, unrequited feelings. I’m not proud to admit it but I got scared.” Cat was whispering now but the darkness in the lift amplified her voice. “I had been pondering about my future for quite some time already but then the timing was right and I took to opportunity when it presented itself. I left CatCo, and you with it.”

Kara didn’t say anything. She didn’t even know what to say.

She’d been hoping for something like this for well over three years now, despite her best efforts to try to move on.

She’d tried, with Mon-El, but then Cat came back for a few days. She didn’t even stay a whole week, but it had been enough for Kara to realize she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with the Daxamite prince.

“I know you can’t talk now and I realize it’s very unfair of me to drop this on you while you’re having a panic attack, but I do wonder …” Cat trailed off, suddenly sounding unsure and small.

Kara didn’t think. She willed her hand to move and when it did, she reached out through the obscurity and found Cat’s hand.

The skin was soft and warm underneath hers, real.

She brushed her thumb across Cat’s knuckles and heard a soft gasp, it made her smile.

She could get used to this.

She was still struggling to breath but it was somehow getting better and the paralisis in her limbs had disappeared. She slowly moved her legs, to extend them in front of her, and sat up a little straighter.

“We need to talk about this,” Kara managed to say, pleasantly surprised that she didn’t choke on the words. “Preferably in broad daylight and in a big, vast, open space.”

Soft fingers squeezed hers and it sent a flutter down her stomach.

“How about my penthouse then, big enough for your taste?” It was still pitch black in the lift but Kara would bet her weight in potstickers that Cat was smiling. “Dinner tonight? Carter would be thrilled to have you and then we’ll talk.”

“I would love to,” Kara replied with a smile of her own. “Tell me something, though …”

The hand in hers stilled but she didn’t let go.

“Why now?”

Cat let out a sigh Kara didn’t know how to decipher. It sounded like relief but she wasn’t sure.

“Again, I’d like to point out this wasn’t how I had planned to tell you about all of this but as for the timing …” Cat explained. Kara rolled her eyes before she remembered Cat couldn’t see her. “I grew tired of running away. It’s as simple as that. I told you once to pull on your big girl’s pants and to own it … It was about time I followed my own advice. I’m incredibly late, by over three years, but then again ….”

“Better late than never, you’ve said it already,” Kara supplied with a chuckle.

She was not surprised by Cat’s answer, not in the least. She knew that her former boss had a lot of emotional baggages and aside from when it concerned her son, Cat was easily skittish when it came to feelings. Paired with her stubborn, independent and perfectionist temperament, Kara thought it was some kind of exploit that it didn’t take any longer.

“Am I too late?”

The question floated around in the elevator, thick and heavy with meaning.

It was a good one, a legitimate one even, Kara realized as she closed her mouth to hold back the “no” she’d been about to reply. The word, so small and yet so important, sat heavy on the tip of her tongue. A lot had happened over the years and despite Kara wanting nothing more than to act as if it didn’t, she knew it wouldn’t be fair.

She opened her mouth to say something when a man’s voice on the other side of the doors made them both startle.

“Hello in there! I’m going to try to pry the door open, should take a few minutes …”

A rumble indicated he was rummaging around to find some tool. Eventually, grunts and metal bending replaced the previous noise.

Kara squeezed Cat’s hand and leant over to whisper her answer.

“A queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early …”

It earned her a laugh, a surprised but genuinely affectionate laugh. Cat intertwined her fingers with Kara’s and held on for a few seconds before letting it go.

The doors opened, slowly, liberating the way to the tenth floor. Light finally spilled into the elevator.

Cat and Kara stood up and gathered their belongings, in silence.

The man in deep blue work overalls that stood in front of the lift looked very apologetic and he helped them out while expressing how sorry he was.“I’m sorry it took me so long, there was some traffic downtown … I know it must have been hard to be trapped in there, I’m sorry for being late …”

Cat glared him at her, towering on her heels and for a few seconds, Kara thought she was about to lash out. She arched a reprobate eyebrow and caught Cat’s eyes. Whatever Cat had been about to say, she swallowed it back and then did her typical dismissive gesture with her hand.

“It’s alright. I suppose it’s better late than never, after all …”

After what Cat strolled away toward the end of the elevator hall and toward the stairs. Before she disappeared into the stairways, she threw one last glance at Kara and smiled.

“Dinner is at 8. Oh and Kara …” Cat smirked, in such a predatory way Kara’s knees wobbled a little.

“Yes?” Kara replied, trying not to sound too affected.

“Don’t be late.”

#Supercat #Kara x Cat #Sentences prompt #It's been a while #Sorry about that #Prompt #Supergirl prompt #Mine #spicycheeser #tw: panic attack

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