#lets hope it survives in my pencil case | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honey-on-your-tongue · 1 month

Text

Too Close

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Part two

Series masterlist

Blog masterlist

Eight o’clock sharp, you’re standing in the small apartment lobby, staring at the faded paint on the walls chipping. Your outfit of your first day at your new job is simple and classy—or you hope so, at least. A short, white, plaid pencil skirt combined with formal but comfortable shoes, and a plain white button-up blouse that shows your midriff. Your hair is down, just washed, styled in that way that makes you feel most confident.

You’re still nervous. Nervous off your fucking ass. And the prospect of seeing Javi, of having him take you to work, of spending time with him…It makes you flustered. He’s handsome, he’s witty, he’s kind. From what little you’ve met of him until now, he’s just your type.

But…

But he’s older. He’s much older. He must be what? Thirty-four? Thirty-five? Thirty six? Somewhere in between, you guess. And why would a man like him even glance at you? You’re a kid to him. He’s almost twice your age. What are you thinking?

You hear a door opening and keys jingling. A moment later, Javi walks to the lobby in a red button-up tucked into his jeans, a belt holding them up. He’s wearing a jacket and a tie, and he looks…

Fuck, he looks hot, you think, trying not to think about it.

“Mornin’,” he greets, those dark eyes taking in your outfit.

You feel yourself growing a little uneasy, shifting your weight around a tad. “Is this okay?” you ask of your outfit. “Does it get too cold here?”

He shakes his head. “Your outfit’s fine,” he tells you. “But I might need to take you out into the field with me sometimes, and it would probably be better for you to wear something that’s comfortable in case we need to stay out all day.”

You pause. “You're gonna take me into the field?” Your voice should be afraid; instead, you're delighted.

He chuckles. “No where too dangerous,” he promises. “Just little meetings with sources. Nothing for you to worry about. Besides, I'll be there to keep you safe.”

You smile softly. “My grandpa never let the other agents take me out onto the field. He was too afraid of me getting in harm’s way, I guess.”

“Dealing with sources isn't really that dangerous,” he tells you as he places a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the underground parking lot of the building. Tingles brush up your spine. “Worst parts are when we burst into coke labs or hideouts, stuff like that.”

“They're also the most exciting, I bet,” you say. “I mean, dangerous, obviously. But the adrenaline…”

He chuckles. “It's only exciting if you survive,” he points out. “Usually there are more funerals than celebrations after those kinds of raids.”

You're silent for a second. “I…Yeah, you're right.” Your voice turns soft, pensive. Of course it's not some game. What are you thinking? You're seeing it from a journalist’s perspective, not from a DEA agent’s. Raids make great stories, sure. But having to participate in those raids…

You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re now a member of the DEA, not a journalist. The world isn’t only about telling stories now, it’s about living them.

Javier leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you. Immediately, you're blushing again, nervous and flattered. You stutter out a thank-you and Javi chuckles smoothly.

He gets in the driver's seat and, oh, God, if you thought he was hot, watching him drive just about sends you hurling over the edge. The way his aviators give him a mysterious hue, the early-morning sunlight shining through the window as he drives you through Colombia…

His nose, his lips, his jawline…Oh, you want to kiss it all. Kiss his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his lips. Oh, those lips…

You realize you're staring when Javi glances at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You alright there?” he chuckles.

You blush, snapping your head away, glancing out the windshield. “Y-yeah. Fine. I'm just…trying to get a bearing of my surroundings, y'know. I'm gonna have to drive to the embassy myself eventually,” you say quickly, hoping your voice doesn't quiver as much as you think it does.

“I wouldn't mind driving you every morning,” he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. “We leave the same building and get to the same place. Problem would be when we each gotta go our separate ways.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “You work late?” you ask, out of curiosity more than anything.

He chuckles, a sound somewhere between amused and endeared. As if you were a child asking some silly little question. “You…could say that.”

You bite your lower lip, wanting to ask more, but you don't want him to think you're a naïve little girl. You're twenty-three. Not a child.

He's almost twice my age, you think, of course he sees me as a child.

Javi glances at you, noticing the slight pinch between your eyebrows. Did he say something wrong? Did he make you uncomfortable? He has the feeling you want to say more, to ask more. What's holding you back?

“I usually don't have a very regular schedule,” he tells you, hoping to ease your nerves. “It depends a lot on the narcos since we gotta take ‘em by surprise and we never really know where they're gonna be. So we gotta seize any opportunity we get.”

You nod. “Right. It's…Is it stressful? Always guessing where they're gonna be?”

“More than stressful, it's frustrating,” he responds. “Every time we think we're close, they vanish like thin air. Especially Escobar. He's a real tough motherfucker. Careful, ingenious. It's like chasing shadows. Every time we go after him, it's as if he already knows it.”

You pause, turn to him as he stops at a red light. “Every time?” you question.

He nods. “Yeah. We've barely even been close.”

“And you've made sure there are no leaks within the DEA? Or the Colombian military? Because it's a little odd that he can always predict your next move.”

Javier's eyes widen. Of course. How could he not think of that? There's probably someone playing for both sides. A mole filtering information to Escobar. But it would have to be someone close, someone who knows all of their plans.

It's not Carrillo. Carrillo is fully trustworthy, Javier is sure of that. But maybe someone on the Search Bloc, someone new…

He gives you a little smile. “Smart thinkin’,” he tells you. “It would've never occurred to me.”

You shrug as if dismissing your great idea. “I'm a journalist. My work depends on sources and info leaks.”

Smart, gorgeous, witty, humble…

Javier tries to keep himself in check. You're everything a man would want.

But not him. He shouldn't want you. You're so young, there are so many guys out there who would be better for you. He knows that. But, God, what he wouldn't give to get a taste of you…

The day flies by—no, the weeks fly by. Between doing your investigations, adjusting to the new work environment, getting used to living on your own, learning Spanish, and trying not to think about Javier, a month passes in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly you have an established routine, suddenly you're settled in. Suddenly you understand more Spanish and your accent decreases slightly. Suddenly, Colombia is becoming a home to you.

But the deeper you fall into Colombia, the deeper you realize it's a war zone. A small-scale kind of war zone. Sicarios—hitmen—make people disappear without anyone noticing for days.

Only reason you know is because those people are usually your sources.

Javier was right about the work being more frustrating than stressful. It's like sand, slipping right through your fingers. No matter how hard you try to hold onto it, it just seeps away.

You make progress. You know you do. But most days, it doesn't feel like it. Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy, they both respect you. They appreciate you and your contribution to the team. Carrillo, the Colombian coronel, does too. But other men…they're a little sensitive about having a woman working with them.

They doubt you. They catcall you. They assume you got the job by sleeping with some higher-ups. And it pisses you off. You wanna punch them all, curse them, call them out for the disgusting pigs they are.

But you don't. You keep your calm. You're better than them and you know it—they know it. That's why they're anrgy with you. You threaten them. Your presence, your abilities, make them feel insecure. And that brings you a very much deserved wave of satisfaction.

Every new piece of information you bring in, the prouder you are of yourself. Until you realize Escobar keeps getting farther and farther away from the DEA. He buys and kills his way through life, opening himself a pretty little path, a red carpet rolled out at his feet.

Some days, you're upbeat. You feel you're moments away from catching the drug lords. But other days, you feel like you came down to Colombia for nothing.

Today is one of those days.

Late afternoon, everyone leaving the office after yet another failed raid. The warehouse had been emptied even before the DEA team was on its way there.

There's a mole, you think as you put away files with months’ worth of information. There has to be a mole. Someone is talking. Someone is ratting us out. But who?

You exhale thickly, a dull ache spreading behind your eyes. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fuck,” you mutter, stressed, annoyed, frustrated.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You grab a file with a big, red stamp on the front that reads deceased—one of your sources just recently killed by sicarios—and aggressively toss it in the trash can. As if that would solve all your issues.

You don't realize he's standing in the office until he sighs. “Tough day, huh?”

You turn around, jumping a little, to find Javier there. He looks almost as pissed as you must look. More, probably. He's already been here for years and Escobar is still running free.

“Understatement,” you mutter, turning away from him. You grab another file, open it. You read the name. Some Francisco something. You grab a large stamp and press it onto the front page so the word deceased is now there in big, bold letters. You toss that into the trash too.

Javier approaches you slowly. You can feel his presence burning behind you, like warm sun on your nape, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Some of us are going for a drink,” he tells you, voice light and casual. “Just in case you wanna join us.”

You turn to him. “Who's going?”

Me and you, Javier thinks. Just us.

“Alright, fine. I'm going,” he says, chuckling softly, smoothly. “There's a bar downtown that I like to frequent when I don't have the best days. And you—no offense—but you look like you could use a drink.”

A small smile appears on your lips. He wants to kiss the corner where your mouth curls.

He can see it in your eyes, you're thinking it through. Weighing the decision. Maybe if he tips the scale a little…

“On me,” he adds, giving you a little smirk. “Y'know. Just a little something to take the edge off.”

Your smile broadens and he knows he's succeeded.

“Alright,” you agree. “You're driving.”

You don't have to say it. It's become the default. Even though the embassy finally delivered your own car, Javi keeps driving you to and from work. Unless he knows he's going to have to stay out later or go through with a raid in the middle of the night, he always insists you let him drive you.

You always politely tell him it's fine, that you can do it yourself, but he doesn't want you to do it yourself. He wants to drive you. Wants to have you sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Wants to hear you hum along to the songs on the radio. That's become the highlight of his day—you have become the highlight of his every single fucking day.

And he hates himself for it. What is he thinking? You're half his age, you can do so much better than him. He's broken, tarnished. He doesn't need to drag you down with him.

But the way your eyes light up when you see him. The smiles you give him. The way his name rolls off your tongue.

Good God, how many times has he spent too long in the shower, one hand braced against the cold tiles as the water falls onto his back while his other hand fists his cock? Head down, hair wet, eyes shut tight as he thinks of you, of the way you say his name. Your little skirts and gorgeous eyes. Your soft, sweet lips…

Over and over, he spills his release onto the shower wall, thick white ropes that trickle down the drain. He does it until it hurts, until the warm water runs cold, until there’s no more of his come to spend. And yet, no matter how much he does it, it's never enough.

Nothing is enough. Not cold showers, not jerking off for hours, not sleeping with his usual hookers and imagining you. Nothing does it.

If it's not you, it'll never be enough.

He takes you to a small club. A private, luxurious little place. Both of you are still in your work clothes. He watches you remove your blazer and are left in a pretty top and a skirt. You let your hair down, untuck your blouse from your skirt, and suddenly you look different. You look free. And Javier's heart skips because he now feels like he has the opportunity to take you home. To lead you to his bed. To spread your legs and let himself finally taste you, feel you, fuck you…

He leads you to a booth in a corner, comfortable and a little more private than other tables, and you sit across from each other.

He watches you, saying nothing as you look around, studying your surroundings. Music is playing softly in the background, people are talking, glasses are tinkling. But he can only focus on you.

You turn to him, a small smile on your face, those beautiful eyes almost shining. “So, as a regular here, I bet you know the menu by heart. What drink would you recommend?”

He chuckles. “I like to take my whiskey. Not a big fan of fancy, elaborate drinks.” He eyes you for a second, purposely letting the tension grow. “But I'd suggest you order a piña colada. Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.”

Javier notes the blush that forms on your cheeks and he feels proud of himself. He didn't take it too far, just a small flirtatious comment. And already you're all flustered.

God, the look on your face if he were to fuck you in front of a mirror, if he'd spread your legs to see your wet pussy, if he'd touch you, kiss you…

Fuck.

He starts getting hard, his cock bulging against the seam of his pants. He slightly adjusts his jeans to relieve the pressure a little.

A waitress comes over and takes your order. Your drinks arrive not long after.

“How are you adjusting to life down here?” he asks you, sipping his whiskey. Bitter, cold. Just how he likes it.

You sip your piña colada, removing the little umbrella on it. “Well enough,” you reply. “Only thing I still struggle with is the language a little.”

He nods in understanding even though he speaks Spanish fluently. He grew up with both languages, he hadn't been forced to learn from zero.

“You'll be able to get it,” he assures. “You're a quick learner. If Steve was able to learn, you're certain to nail it.”

You laugh and he chuckles. He likes that too, he realizes. Your laugh, the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, the shine in your gaze, the way the sound resonates from your mouth.

Suddenly it's a little hotter in the club and for the first time in a really long time, Javier feels nervous around a woman.

You like the way he looks at you. Those dark eyes taking you in as if he can't afford to miss a single detail about you.

Smiling a little coyly, you take another sip from your piña colada. It's so sweet.

Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.

Butterflies burst in your stomach. You gaze back up at him. He meets your gaze for a moment before looking away.

He reaches for his tie, undoes it with one hand, starts tugging it off.

Good God…

You press your thighs together. The tiniest of gestures and yet he looks so fucking hot doing it.

You wish he'd tie you up with that tie, pinyou to the bed, take what he wants…

Mind out of the gutter, you tell yourself. Mind out of the gutter.

As the night goes on, you both talk about everything and anything. The conversation doesn't dry up. It just flows. It's odd how much chemistry you two have, it's almost like you'd be perfect together.

But you work together. But he's much older. What would people say? What will happen when—if you were ever to be more than coworkers? More than friends?

No, don't think about that. It won't happen. He's just being kind, taking out the new girl to help her. It doesn't mean anything.

But you doubt yourself. The way he's looking at you, those dark eyes, that intense gaze…You could swear there's more to this than mere kindness.

As the night grows darker, the music gets louder. People start moving onto the dance floor, the lights dim. As the sounds rise in volume, you and Javi sit closer to be able to hear one another.

And suddenly everything shifts. Suddenly you're so close, suddenly the atmosphere is different, suddenly you're staring right into his eyes and he's glancing at your lips.

A soft breath leaves you. How many piña coladas have you had? This isn't you thinking, it's not you leaning closer to him. It's someone else, some other girl—confident, bold, she goes after what she wants. It's not something you would do. But this new version of you…

His lips are grazing yours now. You're so, so close to him. You can smell the cigarettes on his breath, can feel the heat of his skin. He smells of cologne and whiskey and smoke and soft musk.

“I was thinking,” you say, voice low, sultry. What's that sound? Is it the music booming or your racing heart? “You should teach me Spanish.”

“Teach you Spanish?” he asks, eyebrows pinching together. He seems confused, unsure about where you're going with this.

You nod. “Yeah. The toughest part is getting my tongue to roll the right way. And I was thinking you could show me…”

His eyes shine with realization. He understands now, you can tell. “Fuck,” he says breathlessly, voice low and thick. “C’mere.”

And then he's kissing you.

His mouth is warm, soft, and he tastes like danger.

One of his hands finds your waist, the other cups the back of your neck to pull you closer. He devours you, lips coercing yours open before his tongue slides in, tasting of whiskey.

When your tongue meets his, he groans quietly, the sound reverberating through you. The hand on your waist tightens its grip, the other one tangling in the hair at the back of your head and tugging slightly.

You gasp. He smirks. Javi pulls you closer until you're just about forced to get on his lap. You're happy to do so, straddling his hips, one hand on the back of the booth sofa to hold you up, the other one cupping his face.

When you lean your weight down on Javier, he groans, a barely-restrained sound that makes you wetter than you already are.

You can feel he's hard, his cock pressing right between your thighs. You get comfortable on his lap, the bulge in his pants right against your clit.

His hands move down to your ass slowly, testing the waters. When you don't complain, he squeezes the supple flesh, groaning into your mouth.

And it's wrong. And you know it's wrong. But you let him.

Fuuuuck.

Javier's mind is a blur, his every thought fogged over with the feel of you on top of him.

His cock aches for you. You're on top of him, the feeling of you on his lap is almost enough for him to jizz his pants.

Jesus fucking Christ, you're perfect. All of you is perfect. You feel so much better than he could've ever imagined.

His large hands squeeze your ass and start guiding your movements, making you grind against him. You let out a little sound, a soft, quiet moan and his hips buck up against yours. In response, you whimper, thighs tightening on either side of him.

He keeps guiding you, making you ride him through the fabric of his pants. He can feel the crotch of his jeans grow wet with his precum, his hips starting to move against yours in search of more.

More, more, more.

He wants so much more. He wants to lift up your skirt, move your panties to the side, slide his cock into you. He wants to feel you, your warm, wet pussy clenching around him…

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips. It's not enough. It won't be enough until he fucks you. Properly fucks you.

One of his hands moves from your ass to the side of your thigh, and then between your legs. He plays with the edge of your skirt and then his hand wanders under it.

His calloused fingertips find the fabric of your panties and his cock twitches. He gently teases your folds through your underwear, feeling how wet you are already.

He pulls moan after moan from you, smirking against your mouth, swallowing your every sound.

“Javi,” you whimper, pulling away from his lips to take a heaving breath.

“Shh, angel, you don't everyone to know what we're doing now, do you?”

You shake your head softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Mmm, n-no. I just—Oh, God.”

He pushes your panties aside, rough fingers finding your bare cunt. It's so wet, the coarse hair on your skin soaked.

You jerk at the feeling of his fingers on your pussy and he chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound.

He gathers some of your slick with his middle and index fingers and spreads it all over your cunt, leaving you nice and wet so his thumb can glide over your clit in soft, neat circles.

A string of incoherent words leave you and Javi smiles. He wishes he had you in his bed right now so he could spread your folds with his fingers, look at how wet you are.

But this will have to do for now.

He slides his middle finger into you, his thumb adding more pressure on your clit as he draws mindless shapes on the needy bud.

You rock your hips against his hand, moaning, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That's a good girl, angel,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “You're doing so well. I'm gonna add another finger, yeah?”

He slides his ring finger into you as well and you throw your head back, gasping softly. He curls his fingers up to find that spot that makes you clench around his digits and he smirks.

The more he fingers you, the wetter you get, the tighter you grip him. “C'mon, angel. Come for me, yeah? Let me give you what you deserve.”

You mewl, nuzzling your face into his neck as he fucks you open with his thick fingers.

“Shh, shh. You're so close, angel. So close. Fuck, I can feel how tight you're getting.”

His words seem to spur you on because you start riding his hand faster, more eager, as if you can't get enough. And then there's a moment where your body seems to pause, your every muscle tensing, your eyes shutting tight, and then you fall over the edge.

Javi watches as you climax, the sight more beautiful than anything he's ever seen in his fucking life. He doesn't want this to be the last time he sees you like this. He'll die if he can't get more of you.

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, helping you ride out the pleasure. “That's a good girl. Are you alright, angel?” He kisses your jaw, your neck, inhaling your soft scent.

You nod weakly. “Mhm,” you hum, shuddering a little. “‘m fine.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips softly, tasting you. God, the things he wants to do to you. He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his body aching to taste you. You taste so sweet, so gentle, so fucking perfect.

Oh, what's he fucking doing? You're half his age. You're too good for him. He shouldn't be—

Your hands start moving to the front of his pants, palming his throbbing cock through the fabric, and suddenly Javier forgets himself. He forgets everything.

If it's not you, he doesn't care right now. He'll figure it out later. There will be time later.

So he just gives in. Just ignores everything and allows himself this moment with you.

It'll only be once. Just once, he promises himself.

Cross my heart.

Dividers from @cafekitsune! Thank you again for these beautiful dividers!!!

Taglist

@maiyart @cheesepannini @picketniffler

I'm so inspired while writing this omggg I just need this man so much 😭😭😭

I hope you enjoy babes!!! <33333

#javier pena angst #javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña smut

51 notes · View notes

theluckywizard · 11 months

Text

In the Shattering of Things, Chapter 37: From the Dust

My Dragon Age: Inquisition long fic featuring my OC Rose Trevelyan, my Level 1 archer who romances both Cullen (slow burn) and Garrett Hawke (fast burn)

Longfic Summary:

Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Chapter Summary: Broken and fading, Rose is recovered from the mountain pass above Haven, another seeming miracle. As she recovers she wrestles with the ordeal she faced, all that she survived, the forces that enabled her survival and everything that stretches before her.

CW: Graphic descriptions of injuries and medical treatments

Excerpt:

By the time I wake again there’s daylight filtering in through the gaps in the canvas flaps. My arm is bound in a firm sling and my shoulder hurts less, but I can still feel the distant squeal of the red lyrium in the back of my mind. Across the tent, Candlelight wavers on a makeshift table where Cullen is hunched over a journal scratching notes. His quiet company, the gesture of his presence while I slept fills me with unexpected bliss which punches forcefully through the grief and guilt and exhaustion.

I attempt to roll up to sitting, the cot creaking and he jolts to attention from where he’d been referencing a book.

“Keeping out the riff raff?” I ask, attempting some lightness in spite of everything.

“You’re awake,” he says, stating the obvious but with relief, his expression soft, setting down his pencil and coming sheepishly across the tent. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was chucked against a trebuchet like a ragdoll,” I groan, clutching my shoulder in its sling. Cullen helps me up to sitting and then steps back again fidgeting anxiously.

“I offered to keep watch in case you woke up. Let me get Ellendra.”

“No, no–” I protest. “Just, stay for a minute.” He looks momentarily unsure, no doubt the propriety of my ask weighing on him slightly, but he nods and drags a crate over to sit on.

“Of course.”

“Can you tell me the situation?” I ask. He runs his hand through his hair, his expression grim.

“Thankfully we were able to get enough supplies up into the pass to shelter everyone in shifts. But we only have enough food for another week with the strictest rationing. Game is hard to come by up here and we need to start moving.”

“Have we made contact with anyone?”

“Leliana and I have ravens out to the nearest strongholds and the Fereldan and Orlesian governments, but we haven’t received word from anyone yet. I have scouting teams trekking in three directions but their reports haven’t come back yet. I suspect I’ll have their birds by morning if not earlier.”

“How many are we? How many did we lose?” I ask anxiously.

“We would have lost a lot more if it weren’t for you,” he says, avoiding the question.

“Cullen.”

“Best estimate is we lost a hundred and fifty or so. It’s hard to know exactly as we never had official counts of civilians. And the other issue is that morale is low. If we don’t find a way to rally, we’re going to start losing people to their injuries,” he explains. “The healers we have on staff are talented but they are critically low on supplies. And they’re tired themselves.”

“Supplies they’re using on me,” I huff, annoyed with the situation. He chides me with a look.

“It’s unfortunate, but you’re needed. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he says. “I’m not sure what to do about the morale, but I’m hoping–”

“We need a direction. Something to look forward to.”

“I know,” he sighs, rubbing his neck. “You’ve always been better at that part. At the moment they don’t know much about how you are, only that you were recovered from the pass. Once Ellendra clears you to leave the tent it would be good to make the rounds.”

“I will,” I nod. Resting on his elbows, his hands clasped, he looks impossibly defeated in spite of having survived the attack of an enemy at least ten times stronger, against all odds.

“What was Haven like? After,” he asks quietly. I sigh deeply.

“It was a graveyard. Only the gate and the Chantry withstood the Avalanche. I was able to run to the Chantry’s door and hide around the corner, but I was still buried to my waist. And then the templars came scouting…”

“The templars?” he asks, sitting forward.

“Yes, their general was with them. They were looking for survivors… and me.”

“Samson,” he spits, shaking his head. “I can’t– I can’t believe– no. I can. He only ever wanted two things. He wanted authority. And he wanted lyrium. And I’m sure the Elder One offered them both.” Cullen seemed to be working it out to himself, trying to reconcile the friend he’d once known with the corrupted man who effortlessly pummeled into the snow.

“It must have been hard to see him like that,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

“Hard?” Cullen asks, a little bit forcefully. He shakes his head. “No. In a way it’s completely unsurprising. It makes me sick to think about it. I could have done more to convince the others to come to the Inquisition. I– should have–” He hunches over his knees again and rubs his forehead, his mouth pressed into a bitter frown.

“Cullen,” I say softly. “You can’t take that on yourself. I won’t let you.”

“I wish you luck in stopping me,” he scoffs quietly. He glances up and snorts a regretful laugh. “Forgive me.”

Read the whole chapter at AO3

DAFF Crew Tag List:

#dragon age inquisition #cullen x trevelyan #cullen x female inquisitor #in the shattering of things #cullenmance #rose trevelyan #dragon age #slow burn #probably too sad and busy to kiss right now #almost to skyhold!#the dawn will come #enter hawke

12 notes · View notes

death-writes · 11 months

Text

At that moment I realized no one cared I needed to be one of them someone who only cared about themselves just so I could survive there was no escaping the horror but if I focused on my self and let the others fall I could come out ontop my self success would slice through them one by one they would peel off unable to keep up with it anymore they would give up on everything and just go do what they wanted. That night I cleared out my bag storing my spear stuff away for when "i" needed it no more was I going to share my loving kindness with those who did not care I would keep it all to my self I took books and pencil cases out and separated spear stuff from the stuff that I would be using from now on even spear refill if they wanted to depend on someone to have what they need just becouse they couldn't be bothered bringing it themselves they wouldn't be depending on me I was no longer the spear pair I was creating something no one wants to mess with I already had protection from people wanting to hurt me and if it ever let up I knew I could handle them my own looks were intimidating enough but if someone were to mess with me a tank of strength watches over me whom would destroy anyone within seconds and another who would comfort me if I was panicked or hurt the only problem is if someone was able to get to my head and slip past my shields all hell would break lose and I could cause some serious problems for anyone anywhere around me I could lose myself in rage long built-up like a nuke waiting to decimate the lands around I could tear someone apart in the most literal sense only before that I could be crushed people are very carefully when they know they are in danger but there is always someone who thinks they can do whatever sometimes those poeple get put straight into their place when faced with a force ten times stronger all my life I have needed to watch my back even around my own family I have to be as strong as I can be even though mentally and some physically I am week but I inherited something abominal something that I will fight my intire life over my years of life I have gotten good at keeping myself caged but I have let lose a few times and it has ended very badly for those involved I know that if someone managed to break through the seals covering the cracks terrible things will be unleased my nickname is hells daughter for a reason people from my past know why they have never spoken of these things and never should but most of all over reacting people would start rounding up just to test me to see what this monster looks like when unleashed and that is what I am most afraid of myself something I can't stop when it's out I can only keep to myself and hope no one tries to push the forbidden buttons for they could break at any moment

0 notes

unstablewifiaccess · 1 year

Text

So earlier I came across the original short story that inspired Kiss of Death when skimming old drafts for inspiration.

It’s an old, fairly unedited piece that I wrote for school. And at the time, it was the longest piece I had written. The story has changed so much since then, and it’s almost unrecognizable to what it has become over the last 5 years.

Anyway, it’s under the cut in case anyone is interested! I haven’t re-read completely myself, but I was amazed that it still existed in my files.

Her hand grazed the book, but she didn’t dare open it. After all, the histories were meant for the eyes of pirates only, and women weren’t pirates. The fact that she was even in the same room as the leather-bound papers was akin to a sin in her little seaside town. But here she was, and there it was, and while every bone in her body screamed for her to run, there was a small part of her that wanted to take just the tiniest peek. Sighing, she prepared to leave, hoping that there wouldn’t be anyone coming in as she left- that conversation wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

She gathered up all her things and started to head out of the cave, hesitating for only a moment to take one last look at the ancient book. She wouldn’t lie, the thought of bringing it with her crossed her mind, but the risk was too high to actually consider doing it. Besides, they would probably notice it was missing within a day or two anyway.

“Atta Grace where were you?” Her mother snarled as the girl entered their home. She was a stout woman, with a homely face that screamed “motherly”. At least, it did when she wasn’t screaming at her daughter- which was often.

Atta shrugged, removing her outerwear and her boots. “I don’t know, somewhere in the woods. What does it matter anyway? It’s not like I was needed anywhere today.”

“Mhm, then explain to me why I had to cover for you with Martha at the market today. Again. You can’t keep making all of these promises and then not keeping them. It looks bad on me as well!” The woman came closer, broom in hand. If Atta didn’t know any better, she would have assumed that her mother was about to whack her with it.

“Martha! Oh god, she was probably swamped having to work with those kids there.” Atta groaned, placing her head between her hands. “I’ll have to go apologize tomorrow.” Atta’s mother just pursed her lips in response. Taking that as a sign to leave, the teenage girl made her way to her room, away from the disapproving look that her mother wouldn’t stop giving her.

Atta knew she was lucky. Not many families in their town had a house with multiple rooms, let alone their own personal ones. Of course, it wasn’t like her family had money, her mother had inherited the house from Atta’s grandfather. But either way, the building was all theirs. It had really come in handy when Atta’s father had gone missing at sea- if they hadn’t had the house, they would have been left out on the streets. Now, the two took up minor jobs like childcare and market selling to make ends meet. It wasn’t the best money, but it was enough to keep the two together and alive.

The girl set her bag down by the door and scanned her small bedroom. She didn’t have much in it; A bed, a desk, a dresser- all normal bedroom things. The only thing that made her room stick out among any other stock bedroom were the pictures plastered all over the walls. Mostly graphite sketches of nature, or different places in town, but occasionally you’d see a splash of color- small paintings of the same nature. For a sixteen year old, Atta had honed her skill to a tee… at least that’s what she wanted to believe. There wasn’t much of a market for art, not when the population was struggling to survive. Not that she didn’t share the same sentiment. If she hadn’t learned how to make makeshift paper and pencils, Atta wouldn’t have even been able to draw the way she did. But she made it work, just like the hundreds of others surrounding her in the place she called home. Sighing, the girl laid on her bed, still fully clothed, and quickly fell asleep.

Ocean. Ships. A gigantic wave- double the size of the ship- crashing into its side. Killing almost everyone onboard instantly. Atta searched around frantically in the water, pushing aside debris and bodies like they were water toys until she saw the flash of red hair. Papa. She swam as fast as she could, seemingly not moving at all. She swam faster. He got farther. She tried all she could, tears streaking down her face. “Papa!” Her voice was hoarse, likely from swallowing too much saltwater. “Papa!”

“Papa!” She jolted awake, coated in sweat and tears. This wasn’t the first time Atta had had the dream, but it was the first time it had felt so real. It was almost like she was there with them. With him. She wasn’t even sure if that’s what had killed her father, or if he was even dead. It was just stupid brain creations. At least, that’s what she told herself. It couldn’t be the truth, she wasn’t even there when he died. She had never even left the town, let alone gone onto a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean.

Atta looked outside. Sunrise. There was no point in going back to sleep at that point, so she decided to get up and get the eggs early. Donning her outerwear and boots, she trudged outside to the chicken coop and started grabbing the eggs from the nests. She laughed to herself. The chickens weren’t even really awake yet, and here she was- grabbing their eggs this early. Maybe it was a sign that it was going to be a long day for her, or maybe Atta was just looking too far into things. Either way, she was already awake and getting work done- so it couldn’t be that bad, right?

She went back inside and set the eggs on the kitchen table. Fourteen eggs in all, the perfect amount to cook two for herself and her mother, and then sell the rest at market later in the day. Cracking two into the pot over the stove, Atta decided to heat up some bread as well, as a treat for getting up early. It didn’t hurt that she was hoping it would lighten her mother’s mood a bit from the day before either. Bread with her morning eggs was always a way to make her mother smile.

Speaking of her mother, it was strange that she hadn’t woken yet. Usually she was up way before sunrise up to something or another. Atta just shrugged it off, however. It was possible that she had just decided to sleep in for once, especially since she had to deal with Martha’s kids the day before and Atta knew how much that took out of a person. Last time she had done it, Atta was asleep until lunchtime the next day. She decided to let her mother sleep in, it was the most she could do after abandoning her the day before.

After breakfast, Atta went to town. Apologizing to Martha was first on her list of things to do, but her main goal was to go back to the book. Screw tradition, that dream was a sign. Her father was out there, and she was going to find a way to him. The ancient texts were going to help her, one way or another. After all, he had to be somewhere, because god forbid he be gone.

Deep in thought, next thing Atta knew she was at Martha’s house. But while the house was smaller than her own, Martha had five children and a husband to take care of. That’s why Atta generally took care of the kids while Martha would go work. While Martha was out cleaning the houses of the wealthy, Atta would stay with the kids and teach them their basics. Three days a week, for only a tenth of what Martha made in comparison. It wasn’t the best option, but it was better than what some other girls her age were doing to live and support their families.

As she approached the door, it opened before Atta could knock. Martha’s husband stepped out, walking past her with barely a glance. Martha stood in the doorway, holding her youngest against her breast and looking more frazzled than Atta had ever seen her.

“Heard you were sick yesterday, hope you’re feeling better- I can’t afford to have any of the kids get what you had.” Martha sounded pleasant, but her face said otherwise.

“I am, it was just a… stomach bug.” Atta looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with the woman. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you yesterday.”

“This is the third time you’ve just not shown up in the last month young lady. Why should I keep you on when I can’t even be sure you’ll show up? There are many others who would be lucky to have this position.” She repositioned her child, “I hired you as a favor for your mother but I don’t see any reason to keep you.”

“Please Martha, I promise I can do better. I need this job.” Atta begged, panic flashing in her eyes. She knew she had screwed up a few times, but this was a bit harsh- right?

“I’m sorry Atta, but I need to be able to make sure that someone will be here for the kids. I’ll deliver your last pay next week.” Martha’s face was stoic, seemingly unfeeling. “You’d better leave.”

“Martha, please, give me another chance. I swear I won’t fail you.” Tears swelled up in her eyes.

“You already have.” The woman stated, shutting the door, leaving Atta alone on the step. The teenager fell to her knees, the tears openly falling at this point. She messed up, big time. She wasn’t even sure her mother would allow her to come home without some other plan in place. That was, if she would even be allowed home at all after this.

Slowly, Atta got up off the ground. No use crying over a lost job, she would just have to take up one of the more… undesirable options. She’d have to stop by one of the brothels or bars on her way home and ask. But for the moment, there was nothing else she could do.

The cave that held the ancient pirate texts was secluded, out of the way. An easy spot to sneak into, despite its historical significance. Atta was pretty sure, however, that the majority of the townsfolk had no idea it truly existed, let alone where the cave was located. To most, the stories of the pirates were just legends. Sure, pirates existed, but only to find riches; The pillaging, the killing, to most those parts were just old wives’ tales. But Atta knew better. They were all true, her father had told her. Her father was one of them. The tales were the truth. Pirates were ruthless killers that would do anything to get what they wanted.

Atta stood in front of the book, unblinking. This was her moment, the time where she would hopefully find out what truly happened to her father. There was no way that he just died on the sea, no way that a great pirate could be taken out by something as simple as an ocean wave. Her hand wavered on the edge, hesitating to open it. Once it was open, it was all over. The truth would be out, and she would never be able to unsee it. To be honest, Atta wasn’t even sure if there was anything about her father inside of the book. For all she knew, the texts hadn’t been added to in centuries. But it was also the only thing she had to go on to find answers.

Holding her breath, she flipped the cover over with a swift movement. Other than a puff of dust nothing else happened. Atta wasn’t sure if she expected anything to jump out at her, or if the book would combust, but she was uneasily surprised about the lack of action that came along with opening the text. She let go of the breath she was holding and took a look at the words scribbled onto the first page. Well, more scribbles than words. Much to Atta’s dismay, the entire book seemed to be written in an ancient, probably long forgotten language. She skimmed through the pages, every single one full of similar scribbles. All but one. The very last page only had three words written on it, in very tiny, neat handwriting.

Come for me.

Without a second thought, Atta grabbed the book and ran. She wasn’t sure where she was going, or if she was going anywhere, but she knew that her legs were moving, and that the woods around her were all but a blur. Eventually though, she ran out of breath and had to stop. Falling to her knees for the second time that day, Atta realized that she ended up at the docks. Somehow she ended up at least six miles from town, at least a five hour walk from town square. It made her wonder how long she had been running for. Looking at her surroundings, she noticed how packed the docks were. She could easily sneak aboard a ship and get anywhere in the world.

She got up, dusting off her skirt with her free hand, the book still being held in a death grip against her body. Somehow, with the amount of people occupying such a small space, nobody seemed to pay her any mind. Perfect. She walked as casually as she could, which of course didn’t look casual at all since she was trying to blend into the crowd. Yet still, nobody bothered paying any attention to the girl. She took the opportunity to go over to the closest ship to her.

It was a beauty. Mahogany, with flecks of what looked like silver speckling the sides. Atta was in love with its majesty and might. She approached the ramp, hesitating. What if they noticed her get on? What if they decided to kick her off into the mighty ocean depths? She shook her head. No. Her father was out there. She had proof. She just had to find him. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the ramp with purpose. Like she owned it. She walked right up to the top, and stepped right onto the deck.

What she didn’t expect was an entire crew, staring right at her.

“Oh you HAVE GOT to be kidding me!” One man exclaimed, angrily throwing whatever he had in his hands. “We lose our captain just to gain a girl. She doesn’t even look old enough to go to a bar, let alone run an entire ship!”

Captain? Atta tried to not let her surprise show, even though she was sure it was written all over her face. “Excuse me?”

“Look missy, I know you probably think you’re some hotshot, ready for the cutthroat world of the pirates, but this isn’t the place for a little girl like you.” The man walked up to her, his face merely inches from hers. “You should just leave now, we don’t want you here.”

Thinking quick, Atta obtained a stature of confidence, staring the man down. “You have no idea who I am, or what I am capable of.” She said slowly. “So you’d better get out of my damn face before you find yourself without a crew to belong to.” Thankfully, the man backed down. Atta glanced at the others, about sixteen of them, and strode to the middle of the deck.

“Listen here you scum, I am in charge here, whether you like it or not. And you can either accept this or leave. If you choose to stay, then welcome to the crew, but if not… Then you can, as they say, walk the plank.” To her surprise, not a single man walked. Instead, every single one just stared back at her with almost as much intensity as she was giving them.

“Good.” She said shortly, nodding. “Now, where is my cabin, we sail at sunset.” Only a lone boy even dared to point, and Atta walked briskly into it.

Sighing, she let herself collapse onto the lumpy mattress. She wasn’t even sure where that burst of confidence had come from, maybe it was adrenaline taking over. Either way, Atta was now the captain of a pirate ship, and she didn’t even have any idea how to steer a ship, let alone run a crew. She was, as the other young people in her town said, screwed.

And then there was her mother. Would she assume the worst? Would she even care, since Atta had lost her job? Maybe she would just assume that Atta had just run away out of shame. She wasn’t even sure if there was a way to contact her mother from the sea. Not that it mattered, Atta was terrified to know what the crew would do to her if she admitted she wasn’t the captain they were waiting for. She had made her bed, it was time to lie in it.

Of course, she also had the matter of the book to worry about. The majority of it meant absolutely nothing to her. Someone had to know the language, but how could she ask without having to admit that she stole it from its home? Maybe that was an offense punishable by death, Atta sure as hell didn’t know. She didn’t want to find out. She opened it to the last page, staring at those three words. The familiar curved writing she grew up reading. She was right, he was out there. She just didn’t know where. If her dream was any indication, he was likely stranded on some island. That was, of course, if any of her dream actually happened in real life. The chances of which were slim to none. Atta laughed to herself, the fact that she had been holding a dream, a nightmare, as gospel was laughable. But these words, those oh-so familiar curves, they were her proof. After ten years, she finally had her proof that he was alive, that he just left and didn’t return.

He left. And didn’t return. That fact sunk into her mind. He left her, and her mother, and for what? To travel the world? To go gather riches? She didn’t know. All she knew is that she had not choice but to find him, and become a pirate worth being proud of on the way.

Composing herself, Atta returned out to the deck. But to her surprise, none of the crew seemed to notice her. She coughed. Not even a look.

“We shall set sail.” She said, her voice only holding a portion of the authority it had before. Still nothing.

“I said, we shall set sail.” She repeated, venom lacing her voice.

“We have decided,” A man said, the same one as before, “That we will not follow any directions you give us. Not until you prove yourself.”

“Excuse me? I am your captain.”

“Yes, and we will admit that- however, you will not have our loyalty until you prove it.” He looked her in the eye, and she could have sworn the corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk, “Therefore, we will set sail in the morning.”

Atta sighed, relenting. She knew that no matter what she did or said, she would have to work hard before the crew, her crew, would ever respect her as the captain.

She had a long journey ahead of her, but for now, all she could do was go back into her cabin.

After all, they would set sail in the morning.

#mine #writing #writeblr #Kiss of Death #writing community

0 notes

uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

Text

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

#mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjirou x male reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo Revengers #Sano Manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #manjirou sano #i tried #im so sorry #pls dont cancel me #PSA: don't masturbate in the same room as baji

640 notes · View notes

nessinborderland · 3 years

Text

Innocence

Pairing: Chota x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: There’s just something about an innocent and kind person that this world still hasn't able to ruin. It’s like there’s this aura around them. The kind of aura that someone like you needs to surround themselves with.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mildly Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Loss of Virginity, Dom/sub, Innocence Kink, dark!Reader, Light Angst

Notes: Anonymous asked: Chota x reader? 👉👈 (gonna pretend they didn’t die) then they saw the beach and the reader who is an executive on the beach got interested in him?

Okay so, this was a trip. Please be careful of the warnings, do not read if any of it upsets you. It’s not that bad tho, but still. Hope you enjoy! <3

You observe the newly arrived residents of the Beach with curious eyes.

They’re an odd group of friends, these ones. There are five of them, and they all look so different that you wonder how they even came to be. They’re obviously close if the few dynamics you’ve noticed between them are anything to go by, but still, a pretty intriguing group made of intriguing individuals.

You’re not even listening to Hatter as he gives his usual speech; you’re much more interested in them. Or him, to be exact.

He’s shy, cute, and scared, like a stray kitten. You noticed that as soon as they were brought into the room and the bags over their heads were off, exposing his wide-eyed expression. He was the only one that couldn’t look anyone in the eye, preferring to look down, almost trembling in his chair. His leg was also hurt, you noticed as he limped to his seat.

Very different from his friends.

One of them had gotten in kicking and screaming obscenities; when his bag was off he was more than ready to stare everyone down with fire in his eyes, handsome face contorted into a snarl like he was preparing himself to attack at the smallest of threats. He had caught your attention for a moment until you quickly realized that men like him could be more trouble than fun; there’s no enjoyment in fucking a man that won’t let you dominate him.

Then there’s the couple. They have to be a couple; if they’re not one already, they’re definitely close to becoming one. They had walked in a way more calmly manner than their volatile blonde friend and, even though they were obviously scared, they were still calm and willing to listen to Hatter’s words.

Then there’s this other woman. Shibuki, you had heard your object of interest call in a frightened tone. She’s beautiful, you had thought immediately upon seeing her face. The second thing that went through your mind was if she and the awkward man had anything going on between them. Not that there was anything specific in the way she interacted with him, but more on how he checked on her through the corner of his eye.

Speaking of him, he’s... interesting. Not in a way that most people would find him interesting, though. For everyone else, you’re sure that he just looks like a pathetic and scared little man. For you, however… you see way more in him. You see innocence, you see shyness, you see goodness.

All rare traits that you happen to find extremely attractive and, more importantly, exactly what you want in a pet.

Men in the Beach are the exact opposite of everything you see in him. They’re rude, prone to violence, and just so… infuriating to be around. All they want is to fuck, kill, and party, and – even though you appreciate all those things from time to time – there’s just something about an innocent and kind person that this world still hasn't able to ruin. It’s like there’s this aura around them.

The kind of aura that someone like you needs to surround themselves with.

A movement to your right makes you glance at Last Boss, leaning against the wall not far from you. Your eyes lock for a split of a second before his gaze moves somewhere else. You smirk to yourself, enjoying the man’s clear infatuation with you as he blushes under his tattoos. You remember how prettily he had whined as you fucked him, loud moans and tears streaming down his face as you made him come time and time again. He was the closest thing to an innocent and shy man you could find at the Beach.

Not anymore though. You have a new target in mind.

Your attention goes back to the group as Hatter asks for their names. Everyone looks much more calm and relaxed now, even though he is still looking down in apprehension, and the blonde one still looks at everyone like he’s just waiting to be attacked.

“Hm, Chota…” you whisper his name right after he says it aloud, trying it on your tongue. It suits him, you decide.

Your attention goes back to focusing only on him, and you attentively watch him as he starts getting more confident to slowly look around the room – that or he’s just feeling observed. Your eyes suddenly lock, and you can almost hear him gasp as he stares at you with mouth agape and a light pink dusting his cheeks. It’s only when you smile at him that he lowers his head, ears getting red from embarrassment. You giggle to yourself at that.

“Gosh, you’re adorable,” you whisper under your breath.

You squeeze your thighs together as you start to imagine all the things you can do to and with him. Make him beg to come as you suck him dry; fuck him with your strap-on until he’s an overstimulated sobbing mess; ride him to completion as his hands are tied and he can’t do anything but moan your name. The possibilities are endless and make a fire run through your body.

Hatter saying your name pulls you back from your lewd fantasies.

“Y/N here will show you around the place. New clothes, drugs, food, sex toys, she knows where to get you all whatever you want,” he makes a dismissive gesture and turns his back to them with a last, “Enjoy the Beach, guys.”

You gesture for the group to follow you and they do, cautiously at first but then more than ready to leave the room. You lock eyes with Chota once again. He visibly gulps before getting behind the group, limping as the others help him stand, the blonde man named Karube gesturing for you to lead the way.

“So, how much of what that guy said is actually true?” he asks as he walks beside you. You raise a brow at his tone, not enjoying neither the proximity nor what he’s implying.

“The Beach is your best chance at survival in this country,” you say in a cold tone, walking a little faster to get ahead of him. The man barely has to try, however, as his long legs quickly put him beside you again, “All you have to do is follow the rules. Is that simple,” you look him up and down through the corner of your eye, “Unless you don’t know how to follow rules. In that case, I don’t see how I can be of any assistance to who I can consider a dead man walking.”

Karube huffs and shakes his head.

“My problem isn’t rules,” he says, “My problem is “utopias” that give me cult vibes.”

His words strike a nerve within you, making you close your eyes and take a deep breath before replying.

“Then you’re more than free to leave and condemn your friends to certain and miserable deaths,” you say as calmly as you can, looking him straight in the eyes. His gaze doesn’t leave yours as you stand there, waiting for the other to break eye contact first.

“Hm… Miss?” that voice makes you look back at the group, your attention focusing on the man with shaggy hair.

“Yes… Arisu, is it?”

“Yes, hmm,” he gives you a small bow and averts his eyes before focusing his attention on his friend, eyes clearly starting a conversation that you’re not part of, “What my friend Karube means is that we’re not sure if we can trust this place. We just want to be safe, you know?”

“I do understand that,” you nod, “But if you can’t respect the work that is put into this place, I really have nothing to tell you but good luck in surviving outside,” you choose to omit the part where they wouldn’t be able to leave even if they wanted to. More than once you have felt the stench of the rotten corpses of those who tried. They aren’t wrong about their worries, but it doesn’t benefit you – or them – to talk about it in any way. So you decide to change the subject, “What happened to your leg?” you ask Chota, looking him straight in the eyes. His eyes go wide as he seems to panic for a moment under your stare.

“I uh- there was this game with fire and-” he shrugs, eyes avoiding yours as he stumbles over his words, “I guess I wasn’t fast enough.”

“But you’re alive, though,” you say, “That’s good. I can get you something for your burns if you wish.” he nods with a small thanks, and you smile at him before turning back to Karube, who’s watching you with eyes full of distrust, “Now, if you would be so kind as to keep following me…”

You answer most of their questions involving the Beach, from the bracelet system Hatter imposes, to how you get food, water, and electricity. You show them the storage rooms full of clothes that they’re supposed to wear, as well as where they’re allowed to go to have fun and relax when they’re not going to games or helping around the place.

Then you try to take them to their bedrooms.

You’re not surprised when they all ask for rooms close to each other, going as far as to want to be cramped in the same room when you tell them that they’ll either have to share with strangers or be separated through the various hotel floors.

“Hmm, you’re a couple, yes?” you ask Arisu and Usagi as you check the list of rooms available on the lobby’s reception.

“Uh- uh no, no we’re not,” is the rushed answer that the young woman gives you. You look at her with a raised brow before looking at a blushing Arisu, smiling to yourself as you decide on what to do.

“Okay then, if you want I can put you two,” you point at Usagi and Shibuki, “together on the third floor,” you then point your pencil to Arisu and Karube, “And you two can share a room on the fourth.”

“What- what about me?” ah yes. You’re almost inclined to answer “you can stay with me”, but obviously choose not to. He’s going to be yours in due time anyway, you’re sure of it.

“There’s a room on the second floor that would be best for you,” you tell him, “It’s close to the infirmary and no one will bother you there.” you also don’t need to tell him that he’s going to be way easier for you to approach that way.

It takes a little more convincing, but they end up accepting their new bedrooms. You also give them the bracelets with their respective numbers and send them on their merry way.

You have something you need to plan for.

You keep your eye on Chota as the days go by. An easy task, as he barely leaves his bedroom. When he does, he’s usually in the company of Karube or Arisu, making it harder for you to approach him. In the evenings and mornings though, that’s when you can get him alone.

“Chota, it’s me, Y/N,” you call as you knock on his door. You hear a faint “come in” and get in, one hand balancing a tray full of medical supplies and a book on the other. He’s laying on his bed, reading the last book you had brought him. His burns look much better now, but he still mostly keeps to his room, except for when he has to play, “How’re you feeling today?”

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile, “I’m feeling okay. Finally got some sleep last night.”

"I'm happy for you," you sit beside him on the bed, looking at the fresh cut on his forehead – curtesy of the game from the night before, "Hm, that cut is not looking too good…" you grab some gauze and healing balm and start cleaning his wound.

"Ouch," Chota hisses at the stinging sensation, "It would be way worse than a cut if you weren't there to help me, though."

"I'm glad I was there for you," he blushes when you smile at him, and you realize this is a good time as ever to ask what you want to ask, "Do you like me, Chota?"

You notice him gulp before nodding, looking adorable as he looks up at you. You want to kiss him right there.

"I do… you're nice to me."

"I like you too, you know?" you say as you finish caring for his cut. You cradle his face, forcing him to look you straight in the eyes, "What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

"K- Kiss me?" his eyes go comically wide at your words, but he doesn't make a move to get away from you.

You consider that a win.

You press your lips against his in a chaste kiss, just enough to test his reaction. He freezes for a moment before surprising you by deepening the kiss, going as far as to put his hand on your waist. You test him even further by moving his hand up, pressing it against your breast as you moan into his mouth.

"Soft, isn't it?" you ask, "Want to see them?" you don't even wait for his answer, taking off your tank top to reveal your naked torso. He just looks at your chest like he has never seen boobs before, mouth agape as you put his hands back to your breasts, gasping when his cold hands palm your hard nipples.

He doesn't shy away from your touch, gasping against your lips as he squeezes and presses himself even more against your body. He only stops when you palm his erection over his shorts, panting as you move your lips down his jaw to his neck. He moans your name as you keep touching him over his clothes, but makes no move to push you away.

So you keep touching him, now set on getting your way with him as far as he'll let you.

His first sign of apprehension is when you take his dick out of his shorts, hard and leaking even though you've barely touched him.

"Has anyone ever used their mouth to pleasure you?" you ask as you start jerking him off in long, lazy strokes. His hips jerk against your fist as he moans, shaking his head, "Would you like me to be your first?"

"Y- Yes."

You think he's going to come as soon as you put him in his mouth, yelping in surprise as you start sucking him off. You lick and kiss all over his length, hand massaging his balls as you taste him in your tongue. He tastes salty and tangy, but is exactly what you've been wanting to do since you met him; have him moan under your touch.

One of the hands groping your breasts goes to your head, pushing you down as you swallow around him. You stop at that, popping him out of your mouth as you force him to lay down on the bed, arms over his head

"No touching," you say against his lips, "If you touch me, I'll stop. Do you want me to stop?" he shakes his head and you smile, going down his body to focus again on his dick, "Good boy."

You notice how much he struggles to keep his hands to himself, hips thrusting into your mouth as you suck him dry. He's moaning your name and coming in your mouth not long after, body shaking from overstimulation as you lick him clean.

You straddle him as you kiss him, wanting more but knowing that demanding so right now won't help you in the long run. So you teach him how to touch you, using his fingers to get yourself off.

"Yes, right there," you praise him as he looks down at his fingers getting inside your cunt, mesmerized by the sight as you play with your clit. He's sloppy and awkward about it, but his expression alone is enough to get you off. You can't wait for the moment you'll actually get to fuck his brains out.

You stand up after you're done, putting your clothes back on before sitting back on the bed.

"Was I good?" he hesitantly asks with a light pink to his cheeks, eyes cast down as he waits for your answer.

"Very good," is the only thing you say before going back to taking care of his wounded leg like nothing happened.

Your head is filled with fantasies of what more can happen between you two. You have to control yourself to not fuck him right now, doesn't matter if he's ready or not. You clench your legs together as he moans from pain when you press a little harder on his burns. You want to hear him moan like that more often, preferably with him inside you. Or you inside him.

You leave his bedroom sometime later, promising him to come back the next morning. He doesn't say anything about what happened and neither do you. You want him to go over his memories over and over again. You want him to desperately want your touch and your attention.

Gosh, you need a good fuck.

You let out a scream as you sit up straight, skin wet and hot with sweat as you try to regain your breathing. Your room is warm, the fresh night hair that gets in through your open window not enough to cool you down. The body sleeping next to you stirs and you notice the glint of his eyes in the dark room as Last Boss sits up, a hand immediately going to catch the tears that you don’t even realize you’re crying.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks in a worried tone. You shake your head and swat his hand away; you don’t need his concern and you don’t need his touch.

“I’m fine,” you say as you stand up, a shiver going through your naked body as you make your way to the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you splash cold water on your face, ignoring Last Boss’ eyes on your back as well as the memories that keep flashing in your mind.

The face of the same man keeps appearing, obscured by shadows as he touches you and strips you off all of your clothes as well as your innocence. You didn’t mind it back then; why should you? He did to you what he had done to countless others before you. It was an honor to have him possess you; it was the closest you could be to the divine.

Thinking like that didn’t stop the nightmares though.

“I have nightmares too, you know,” Last Boss again, “If you want to talk–”

“I said that I’m fine,” you cut him off in an ice-cold tone. You think you notice him flinch in the darkness, but ignore it as you turn your attention back to the cold water flowing against your wrists, “What’re you doing here, anyway?” you ask, “I never said you could spend the night.” you were so exhausted the night before after fucking him for hours that you didn’t even notice him falling asleep beside you. You hate it when other people sleep in your bed.

“I just thought–”

“Takatora,” you say his name almost as a warning, approaching the bed with determination. His eyes go wide as you straddle him, your hand going around his throat as you lean over to whisper in his ear, “Whatever you think we have, it’s not a relationship. I fuck you and you let yourself be fucked by me. Nothing else. I come and you go back to your room. I can’t and I won’t give you the romantic relationship that you’re after, so don’t think that you can just sleep in my bed or that you know anything about me besides what I order you to do with your tongue,” you look him in the eyes, ignoring the pain you see in his gaze as you let him go.

You stand up again and walk to your balcony, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air.

“Y/N, please I–”

“You should leave,” is all you say without turning to face him.

You hear him as he gets dressed, hesitating at your door for a moment before leaving the room. You control the tears that threaten to fall again, too tired to even try to understand the cause of all this emotional breakdown you’re so close to having. You decide that you’re way beyond the ability to go back to sleep, so you put on a pair of leggings and a hoodie and leave the room.

The halls are mostly empty at this hour, everyone either asleep or still partying. You pass by some people as you make your way outside, but no one pays you any attention. You like that; those hours of the night where you feel like you’re invisible. You’re surprised when you notice that you’ve walked all the way to the back of the hotel, an empty path that gives you a view of the windows and balconies of the building, eventually ending near Aguni’s greenhouse.

Your mind goes to Chota when you remember that his room is somewhere along your path, so you almost absently start looking at the windows, trying to maybe catch a glimpse of him or a light on.

“Never took you for a peeping tom,” a man’s voice from behind you makes you jump, and you turn to face Chishiya, one of the other executives.

Your relationship has always been pretty amicable; friendly even. The kind of man that, at first sight, you swore would never get too close to only for him to prove you wrong; he ended up being quite submissive in the bedroom. It had been a fun one-time thing.

Not exactly your kind of man, but he’s someone that you’re willing to tolerate.

“Who says that I’m peeping?” you shrug as you keep looking up, considering the conversation to be over.

“Is Last Boss not enough for you anymore?” his tone makes you arch a brow and look him up and down.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I noticed how you look at that new guy,” Chishiya answers, now walking beside you, “He does seem like your type. I’m just not sure how his friends are going to react to your… ‘relationship’.”

“Oh please,” you huff out a laugh, now attention focused on him, “Like it matters what his friends think of me. Chota is not a child and I’m not forcing him to do anything he doesn’t want.”

“Oh, so you've fucked him already?"

"Close to it…" you shrug as you keep looking up. You notice a light coming from what you think is Chota's bedroom, so you turn around and away from Chishiya, already deciding on where to go and what to do, "Very close."

"Y/N," the man calls, making you turn around and look at him with a raised brow, "If you feel like having some fun…" he shrugged, "Feel free to come to my room. Got a new toy I would like you to try."

You chuckle at his words, seriously considering his offer.

"Who knows, maybe I will," you wave goodbye and go back to walking away.

He's not the one you want to fuck right now.

You're about to knock on Chota's door when you hear it. Moaning. You press your ear to the door, now sure of what you’re hearing. It's Chota, moaning your name. You don't bother to knock then, opening the door and getting in as quietly as you can. He doesn't even notice your presence in the dimly lit room, too focused on jerking himself off.

He's naked, hand fisting his dick at a fast pace as he tilts his head back, moaning freely as he pleasures himself. You feel yourself get wet at the sight, licking your lips before talking.

"Couldn't wait till morning?" you ask as you get closer. He gasps in surprise, stopping his movements as he locks his eyes on you. You just smile at him as you slowly undress, enjoying his eyes on your body as you get naked before him.

"Y- Y/N I–"

"Shh, it's okay," you whisper as you get on the bed, legs on each side of his hips as you press your cores together. You both moan at the contact, his dick sliding in between your drenched folds. You want him inside you so bad, "I really want to fuck you right now."

You position him right at your entrance, sinking on his length with a moan at the same time he thrusts up into him. You don't stop as you lose yourself in the feeling of him inside you, stretching and filling you up the longer you bounce on him.

His whines reach your ears as his hands grip your hips, you don't know if to stop you or to control you. Not that it makes a difference; he's not the one in charge right now. You keep riding him as you feel your orgasm coming closer, ignoring his moaning cries as he tells you he can't hold it anymore.

"Come for me, baby," you say against his lips as you kiss him, clenching around him, "Do it."

He comes inside you with a cry, hips jerking up into you as he rides out his orgasm, mouth agape, and eyes close as you keep fucking him at a fast pace. His moans of pleasure soon turn into whines as you show no signs of stopping, bouncing on his dick like you haven't fucked Last Boss just hours before.

"Y/N, please–" he looks so pretty like that, begging you to stop even though you can feel him still hard inside you, his hands still gripping your hips like his life depends on it.

"You feel so good inside me, Chota," you say as you force his wrists over his head, moving your hips in circles as you feel yourself getting closer to climax, "So pretty like this, letting me fuck you until your cum is sliding down my thighs."

You kiss him as you come, riding out your climax on him as you come down from your high. You lay down on top of him as you both regain your breath, sweaty bodies pressed against each other, him still inside you.

He whines when you pull him out, moaning from overstimulation as you suck him clean of your combined juices. Then you're kissing him passionately, wanting him to taste you on your tongue, wanting him to remember this moment forever.

This is definitely not the last time you fuck him, though.

"Was I good?" he asks you after some time, still panting as you kiss his neck. You look up at him with a smirk, noticing his tear-stained cheeks but satisfied smile.

It makes you want to fuck him again.

"Yes you were, baby," you say as your hand goes down his chest to touch him again. He hisses but doesn't push you away, "Such a good boy."

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #ima wa no kuni no alice #segawa chota #chota x reader #chota fanfic #aib fanfic

170 notes · View notes

sunnysglow · 3 years

Text

Plans for the month of June.

I didn’t really map out my plans for May so it was kind of a hectic month for me. However, I survived and made it through stress free. So, here’s me mapping out my goals and by putting them on this blog, I will be holding myself accountable.

Goals for June:

Rebuild my wardrobe

Some ways I’m going to do that is by going through my wardrobe and getting rid of everything I don’t wear/doesn’t fit my dream image of myself. After that, I’ll slowly start buying things that do in fact fit the image that I want for her and how I want her to look. Another thing I’ve noticed about my wardrobe, is that it’s very limited which in turn cases it to be repetitive. The excuse I used to use was that the only time I got dressed was to go to work and I really didn’t care about the way I dressed because I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I still don’t have any desire to try to impress anyone but, I feel great when I look good and I like when people notice.

Eat healthier (back to vegan/plant based)

Now one thing I’ve noticed is that I’m the type of person that will eat whatever I don’t have to cook. If its microwaveable, I’ll eat it. If everyone else is eating it, I’ll also eat it. When I was strictly vegan, I didn’t feel as bloated as I do when I eat meat, I lose weight easier, I’m much happier, and my overall health and appearance is much better. I want to get back to feeling like I was on top of the world even when I had a bare face. I also want to cook more and if I have a specific diet that I enjoy that I have to really watch what I eat with, I will definitely have to cook more. It’s super hard to find vegan food where I live anyway.

Workout more (hit the gym daily)

I need to get my body right. At my current weight and appearance, I’m unhappy. I could put on the cutest outfit but I just don’t like the way I look in it. It isn’t that I don’t think I can’t rock it, I definitely can, I just don’t like the current state of my body. I really stopped caring about how I treated my body and now I’m suffering the consequences. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me speaking negatively about my body. I love my body, even with some extra rolls. This is me speaking negatively about the way I’ve treated my body. I need to do better.

Take more time for myself.

I don’t make enough time for loving myself or pampering myself. Like, I really cannot remember the last time I treated myself to an at home spa day. You know, face mask, bubble bath, good book, good wine kind of night. I need to pencil that in more often, even if it means that I have to request days off work.

Save more money/ be smarter with money.

I don’t know how to tell myself “no” when it comes to shopping and it usually end up with me spending way more than my budget. I love retail therapy as much as the next girl. However, we do need to be planning for the future and we do need to have a rainy day fund (just in case of any emergencies that may spring about). I do plan on going to school soon which may mean working less hours and I need to be prepared for that.

Skin care

My skin is so oily and its frustrating. Being mostly barefaced is all fun and games until I look in the mirror and I look like a glazed doughnut. Like seriously?! It’s not cute! And some days I don’t give myself enough time to do a full mattifying makeup look so I’m stuck looking greasy.

Learn Spanish

Learning Spanish is very beneficial career wise and because my boyfriend’s family mostly speaks Spanish. We’re also teaching my goddaughter Spanish and it would help her significantly if I could speak to her in Spanish. It would also make my boyfriend very happy. Though, the person who would benefit the most is me. I honestly love learning languages and before I decided on Spanish, I was teaching myself Korean.

Keep my room clean

I’ve honestly let my room go, honestly. Like I feel like my life is falling apart when it gets messy. I find peace in cleanliness and organization so I’v started the mont with a clean and decluttered room in hopes that I can keep it that way. Honestly, I don’t spend much time in here anymore so I’m hoping that makes it a bit easier.

I need to get back into reading books. I miss getting lost in the pages and adding new words to my vocabulary. I used to keep myself up late at night just really getting deep into a book and anticipating the next chapter or sequel when I set the book down to rest. It’s a beneficial hobby to possess for many reasons; you’re getting educated and you’re relieving stress. I don’t see anything wrong with that!

There’s so many more things that I want to do but those are my main focus items. This list is my “big picture” list. Things that’ll make a difference in a long run. I also have my minor details list but, they’re easily achievable and they’re also just daily habits I need to stick to.

#self care #glo up tips #glow up challenge #glow up journey #glow up threads #glow up tips #2021 #2021 goals #glo up #black femininity

102 notes · View notes

ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

Text

On Family

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

Next Excerpt

One question that I see asked in the news a lot is why there are still any ghouls left. We have a distinctive, high-impact feeding habit that requires us to stay within human society, where we are both outnumbered and outgunned. This has essentially been the case since the development of automatic firearms, and you’ve continued to develop more and more effective methods of killing us since then. How are we not extinct?

The talking heads always have lurid theories to propose. My personal favorite one, which comes up every couple of years or so, is that the government is secretly breeding us so that they have an excuse to send secret police out into the general populace for nefarious purposes pretending to be exterminators. As if they’d need the excuse {Editing Note: I’ve gotta keep my political views out of this except where they directly pertain to ghouls. No unnecessarily alienating people}. The most commonly accepted one seems to be that we just have a lot of children to compensate for our high mortality rate. Spatha calls that an R strategy, I think. Scarlet calls it the Rabbit Theory. Whatever you call it, it’s wrong. Our species has survived off the strength and compassion of our families.

Contrary to popular impressions, our “nuclear” families are pretty small. My understanding is that 1-4 children is the typical range. I’m the only confirmed only child in my friend group. Scarlet’s the youngest of three, Scorpio’s a middle child, Spatha avoids talking about her home life, and Kestrel doesn’t know her biological parents. There’s a couple of pressures that keep our family sizes small. First, it’s challenging to feed too many ghouls at once, especially ghoul children, who we don’t want worrying about where they’re going to get their meals. Second, the majority of ghoul parents are going to end up as single parents before their kids are fully grown. Either one of them is going to get killed, or they’re going to have to separate to go on the run from the exterminators; and, of course, we do still break up and get divorced sometimes.

These pressures are exaggerated by our general lack of an extended family. It’s not that all of our aunts and uncles get hunted down - even if they did, we’d still have cousins - but it’s not safe for us to have traceable extended families. When exterminators identify a ghoul, the first thing they do is put out a bulletin for all known blood relatives. The most common tactic to avoid this is, when multiple siblings make it to adulthood, at least one of them changes their identity and moves away. This isn’t always done, but it’s done often enough that document forging is a widespread and well-respected profession in the Society. It’s useful for dodging exterminators in other circumstances too. My mom and I changed our names and moved cities after exterminators killed my dad when I was 4.

Between that and the sheer number of out-and-out orphans in our Society, it should come as no surprise that we’ve developed a new family structure to fill in the gaps. The terminology we use for this structure is variable, but the term I’ve always used is “household”. A household is a sort of adopted extended family, typically formed by and centered around one particularly resourceful ghoul called a patron. The patron takes whichever ghouls they choose under their wing, introduces them to each other, and helps them coordinate their talents and resources so that they all have everything they need. Most obviously, this means making sure they all have a supply of flesh, but there are numerous other kinds of support a household can provide. I doubt I need to emphasize again how valuable a reliable source of companionship and safety is, but patrons typically have access to connections and contacts that can help the other members of the household accomplish their goals.

My household, for example, was founded by our patron Yaga. It consists of her, her adopted daughter Kestrel, my mom and I, my friends Scarlet and Scorpio and their immediate families, and four other older ghouls. There’s also Spatha, who has been reluctant to fully join the household but acts like a member in most contexts. Three of our members have reliable flesh sources, and Yaga coordinates with other ghouls to find supplementary sources to ensure that she always has a surplus on hand. This keeps all of us well-fed and lets her distribute the rest to those in need in exchange for favors and cachet that the rest of us can use for our own advancement. In turn, the rest of us pitch in for odd jobs here and there, mostly on flesh-gathering jobs of one kind or another, and we look out for each other. I’ve done a bit of babysitting with Kestrel, for example, and Yaga was able to get me and Scarlet summer jobs to save up for college.

Babysitting, by the way, is one of the most valuable services a household can provide to a ghoul parent. Given our mortality rate, it probably isn’t a surprise that there’s a good bit of cultural pressure to have children, and have them quick. Ghoul children are… a lot. When we’re newborn, we’re pretty much like human babies. Ghoul babies can nurse from ghoul mothers for awhile, which is a relief. They need to switch to flesh before their teeth come in, though, so that means flesh slurry, which is more complicated to make than you might think. For best results, you want a mix of blood, muscle tissue, organ tissue, and bone, especially marrow. We get better at pulling all our nutrients from just flesh as we mature, but babies aren’t as developed. Getting those varied tissues is a little more complicated than just getting flesh. Bone especially is challenging - more mature ghouls have no need for it, and it’s honestly kinda gross. You just have to hope that whoever you’re getting flesh from can start holding some bones for you. Not every source has easy access to bones.

{Editing Note: I think I wrote bone too many times - it looks fake now. Bone. Bone.}

We get our ghoul teeth at the same time as our baby teeth. Our ghoul teeth fall out and are replaced too, but we keep growing new ones our whole lives, kinda like sharks. Funnily enough, I don’t think we grow extra human teeth, which seems like a strange way for evolution to take us, but what do I know, I’m not a biologist. At that point we can start eating regular flesh, and parents have the unenviable task of explaining to toddlers that they can’t just slide their teeth out whenever they want. Our other features come in a bit later - claws between 4 and 6, eyes with puberty. Let me tell you, the claws hurt coming in. I couldn’t hold a pencil for a month. My mom told the elementary school that I was deathly sick so she could keep me home, but I think Scarlet just pretended he’d broken both his hands and went in splints. I don’t envy him - stretching my claws did a lot to relieve the pain.

I’ll admit freely that, by our standards, I had a pretty charmed childhood. I fit into human society pretty easily, I had a mom who loved me and could provide for me, a patron and household to help pick up the slack, and ghoul friends my own age. I had the discipline to keep my true nature hidden from my human peers, and I don’t think I was even particularly traumatized by the pressure of performing humanity that much. I can safely attribute that to the fact that I had safe spaces throughout my life to let the charade drop. Most ghouls at least have that. Most, but not all.

Our integration into human society also means that we inevitably become entangled in human society. We become invested in the lives of our human peers, we befriend them, care about them. Sometimes we fall in love with them. Eating people seems like kind of a big secret to keep from a potential romantic partner - I certainly couldn’t manage it - but some ghouls form romantic relationships with humans nonetheless. Maybe some of these human partners eventually discover the truth and are willing to overlook it for the person they love, but I doubt it happens often. I’ve certainly never heard of it. I’ve heard of it going the other way, though, a human partner discovering the truth and reacting poorly. Someone always dies when that happens. I personally know a few ghouls who’ve dated humans, or are seriously involved with them. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I get that the heart wants what it wants, but some wants aren’t worth the risk.

{Editing Note: That last line feels… tense. Emotionally charged. Why? And should I change it?}

In my opinion, the gravest of these risks is what happens when a human and a ghoul decide they want to build a life together, but kids are already in the equation. The human-ghoul mixed family is probably the most toxic environment that a ghoul child could be raised in and conceivably survive. All that pressure of hiding your true nature from your peers as you grow up? That feeling of isolation that follows you everywhere you go among humans? All of the most crushing emotional turmoil I’ve described in this book so far? Imagine if there was no relief for that even at home with your family. I frankly have no idea how ghoul parents manage to feed themselves and their children without being caught, or how they manage to perform humanity so flawlessly and constantly that their literal immediate family never catches on. I don’t know how those children manage to survive to adulthood, but I imagine they have some seriously fucked up mental health problems by the time they do. Factor in the suspicion that they would inevitably face from our Society when they finally are able to join it properly - after all, who more likely to become a Judas or be Lost than a ghoul raised by humans? - and I’d be willing to bet most of them don’t make it out of their twenties.

Before we move on entirely from families in general and mixed families in particular, I’d like to take a quick aside to talk about “half-ghouls”. You hear about them in horror media fairly often, the biological child of a human and a ghoul. Authors love to ascribe all sorts of traits to these hypothetical creatures - greater and more monstrous than the sum of their parts, supernaturally strong and vicious, impossible to detect within human society, sometimes with traits that are blatantly impossible, like telepathy or mind control or just plain magic. All of that is obviously untrue, but it’s something of a point of contention as to whether or not a “half-ghoul” is even possible. None of the ghouls I’ve talked to seem to agree about whether it can happen, and a search of human medical literature was similarly inconclusive. Humans, at least, seem to think that it might be theoretically possible, but have never been able to verify it by observation or by medical experiment. Of the ghouls I know that have been romantically involved with humans, none of them have ever gotten a kid out of it. It’s one of those things where we just don’t know. If it were possible, I’m not even sure what the implications would be.

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

28 notes · View notes

marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

Yixing knew that he needed to get out of the car. The engine still rumbled, giving away his presence. Inside the farmhouse, the others were waiting for him so they could carry out the “family meeting”. Yixing already knew what it was about. And he still hadn’t made up his mind on how – or even if – he was going to tell his pack that this whole situation might be his fault.

Seeing the front door open, Yixing cut the engine and jumped out. Baekhyun poked his head out the screen door. “Are you coming? Junmyeon’s started pacing!”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Yixing murmured as he kicked his car door shut.

So many doors. So much opening and closing. And the most important one he’d slammed shut himself. He could still see the dejected look on your face more clearly than the steps in front of him. Why did he have to be like this? So noble and overly righteous? He had his mate in his hands and he pushed you away. He needed to keep you safe – but was distance really the right way to do that?

Everyone else was already squished into the living room. There wasn’t much space in this area of the house, which was why they usually had meetings in the kitchen. Junmyeon must have been determined that no one be distracted by food or other easily reachable items.

Said alpha gave Yixing a very pointed look as the latter made his way to the back of the room, squeezing in between Chanyeol and Minseok against the wall.

“Everything okay?” Minseok asked quietly. Yixing nodded, but Chanyeol still threw a concerned glance his way.

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” again with the classic scolding Junmyeon glance, “we need to have a serious talk. There was another attack-”

“Another one!” Jongin exclaimed. His mouth hung on its hinges as he glanced around the room.

“Yes. Thankfully, this one survived. And he might have seen the wolf that attacked him.”

Chatter broke out among the wolves. Some where ecstatic at the possibility of finally knowing who this killer might be. Others were thankful that the man survived. Guesses bounced around about what this rouge wolf could look like. Baekhyun enjoyed the idea of it being a bear-like wolf, larger than even Chanyeol or – he’d stopped himself before he said another name that would shift the mood of the room in a flash.

“Nah, I bet its weak and sickly,” Jongdae interjected.

“Red fur?”

“No, those are rare.”

“I bet it’s blonde and shrimpy like Jongdae.”

“Watch it, Sehun.”

The chatter grew, even with Junmyeon’s insistence that they quiet down. So many voices piled on top of each that finally Yixing couldn’t take their theories anymore.

“It was a gray wolf.”

Despite Yixing’s neutral and low tone, the rest of the pack heard. Immediate silence. All eyes turned to him in confusion. He kept his arms crossed over his chest with his own gaze down on the floor.

“That’s a boring guess,” Sehun grumbled.

“Its not a guess,” Yixing admitted. “That’s what the man said at the hospital.”

Junmyeon stared hard at Yixing. “How do you know that’s the man said?” Lifting his eyes up, Yixing hardened his features. Under his arms, his fists curled tightly, his nails digging into the skin with a dull pain. He’d opened another door. And he didn’t think he could close this one again. Junmyeon sighed. “Everyone out.”

Everyone was reluctant to move.

“Now!”

Feet scrambled and tripped over one another as everyone but Yixing ran out of the room and to the kitchen. Junmyeon hated being forceful like that, having to raise his voice at the others. It was no surprise that he immediately melted back into a calmer state.

“Yixing…” came his steady, yet authoritative voice. “Tell me everything. Please.”

Yixing took a deep breath. It was better this way. He hoped.

“I’ve been blacking out.”

“What?”

“They started around the same time the attacks did,” Yixing explained. “Sometimes I get a headache first. Sometimes it just happens. I lose time – hours usually. And then within that time, there’s an attack.” He could feel his throat closing in. It was more devastating than he’d pictured – telling the truth. He feared his pack turning on him, putting the blame on him, even if it was rightfully done. He’d always been the odd one out, the wolf with a different ancestry. He used to have others to relate to, but when they left….

“Have you ever woken up with blood on you?” Junmyeon asked cautiously.

“No.” A small miracle. There was one time, but he’d found the poor rabbit just a few feet away and the smells matched.

“There could be another explanation for this,” Junmyeon insisted.

Yixing wanted to believe him, but there was other evidence against the hope. “He said it was a gray wolf.”

“Its not that uncommon of a color.”

“But he was attacked right during another one of my blackouts.”

“And where were you?”

“I was in the forest. Running. Alone.”

Junmyeon frowned. “Why were you doing that?”

Yixing shrugged. “I was… happy. Things were going in a good direction with Ming. I just needed to let the energy out and I wanted to be alone….”

“And then a blackout?”

Yixing nodded. “I woke nearby. (Y/n) was the one who had found him. I’d heard her screaming. We took him to the hospital and then I saw (y/n) home.”

“Did you talk to the police?”

“Yeah. All I told them was that I was in the area next to the nature center and heard (y/n) scream.”

“They didn’t think it was odd that you were naked?”

Yixing cringed, embarrassed. “I had my pants on, (y/n) gave me her jacket-” his jacket - “so they didn’t question it.”

“And (y/n)?”

“I doubt she fully believed my hiking story.”

Junmyeon let out a full lung’s worth of a sigh. His shoulders were weighted down by the pressure to keep their existence a secret and also take care of his pack. Would he outcast Yixing to protect the rest? Yixing wanted to cling to the hope that that wouldn’t be the case, but there was always a chance.

Stepping forward, Junmyeon placed a hand on Yixing’s shoulder. A smile, strained but reassuring, crept on his face. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t believe it’s you, but something bigger might be happening. Don’t go through this alone anymore, okay?”

As expected, a rumbling off footsteps shook the floor. Seven pairs arm wrapped around Junmyeon and Yixing.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Baekhyun whined.

“We could have helped you,” Chanyeol jumped in.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Minseok agreed.

Yixing smiled, but said nothing. He still wasn’t sure if he’d made the right decision in revealing his condition. There was no telling what lied at the end of this road – either Yixing would be free to live his life with you or he would be outcast from the pack with a heavy conscious.

“Did I miss something?”

All heads snapped to the front parlor. Ji Yeon stood in the entryway with a coffee cup in one hand and her laptop bag in the other. Small chuckles echoed around the room as the group shifted away from each other. Even Yixing gave off a short laugh. It was a nice release, but now that meant Ji Yeon would need to be made aware of the current situation, adding to Yixing’s fear. As Minseok shuffled closer to his mate, Yixing slipped out of the room, wondering when he would be able to be close to his own mate again.

It was one thing to think about personal issues on personal time. It was another to stop coming to class altogether. And for once, it wasn’t you avoiding the problem.

You had gone to class like normal, even though you were fully aware that a certain someone would – or, at least, should – be sitting in his usual seat when you arrived. You weren’t surprised at all when he hadn’t found you to walk you from class to class. That was to be expected after the abrupt ending to your last encounter. But him skipping class altogether was unexpected. Yixing was a dutiful student. Being in class was important. And yet, his seat was conspicuously empty when you stepped into the lab.

It was suffice to say that you were a little put out by his avoidance. You had conceded to the idea that you were going to suffer through having to sit next to him all class period and yet, all your panicking and worry was for not.

Maybe this was secretly a good thing. Maybe you would be able to concentrate better with the table to yourself.

That was not the case.

While you tried to concentrate on Professor Jiang’s lecture, your mind kept wondering back to Yixing.

Was he okay? Was he avoiding you? Had he dropped the class for good? Because of you?

What were the “things” that he needed to figure out? Were you right in thinking that he had a girlfriend off campus? Or was something else going on? Family things?

Your head was spinning with all the different possibilities. You might have heard a few technical terms during the lecture, but none of it sunk in. The pencil in your hand hardly scribbled across the notepad. Words floated meaningless from the textbook.

When Professor Jiang ended the session, you closed the textbook with a hard slam. Many eyes turned to you in shocked curiosity.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you quickly packed away the rest of your supplies. Keeping your head down, you rushed out of the classroom and through the halls until you were outside under the cloud-hidden sun.

Finding a bench, you sat down, leaning forward on your knees as your eyes trailed over the cracked concrete sidewalk. That period was a dud, you were sure of that. At some point you would have to squeeze in extra study time to make up for the inability to control your attention. It was all Yixing’s fault. He was the one who had kissed you and then left. A few times you had unlocked your phone to call him, but never went through with it. You didn’t want to come off as desperate or clingy. You were trying not to care. In the past, you never had before. There was no reason for Yixing to be any different.

Except that he was.

You felt a bit… broken. Or perhaps rejected was the right word. There was a lot going on inside you that it was hard to pinpoint the exact emotions. Those words were both exaggerated and not enough in their explanations.

Deciding that you were done with this oddly out of character pity party, you stood up and continued walking until you’d left the campus grounds all together and crossed the street in the direction of your apartment.

Ran was home when you walked through the door. Her music – vibrating loudly through the miniature Bluetooth next to her on the floor – drowned out your steps into the living room. Spread out around her were notebooks, textbooks, different colored pens and a half-filled coffee mug. A one-person study session. She jumped when she finally noticed you. “Oh, hey!” She reached over and turned down the music so it was now at a low background noise level. “What are you doing already?”

“I wasn’t feeling too well,” you lied. She believed you since you were sure you looked the part. “I thought it might be best to come home and lie down.”

Ran jokingly cringed away from you. “Ew, don’t get me sick. I have plans with Hae In this weekend.”

“I don’t think it’s a bug or anything. My body might just be rebelling against lack of sleep.” Surely Ran had heard your tossing and turning the last several nights.

“Hey,” Ran caught you attention again before you could escape to your room. “So, uh, did anything happen between you and that Yixing guy after I left?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

You shook your head. “No. We talked about class a bit and then he went home. Family emergency or something like that.”

“Hm. Interesting. Well, take it form me, he definitely likes you.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, seriously.” Ran took a sip from the mug, flinched at the now probably lukewarm liquid, and then put it back down. “The way he was looking at you, he likes you. A lot. I think you should give him a chance.”

You chewed on her observations. “I’ll think about it.”

Safe in the four walls of your tiny room, you curled up on your bed with your back against the headboard. As wonderful as sleep sounded and even with Ran now keeping her music at a more manageable level, you doubted your brain would be able to shut off. To try and be distracted by something, you logged into the “Dream University’s” website to check your status.

Still waitlisted. Okay. This was fine. You weren’t actually expecting any change. You just wanted something to do. You were growing antsy. Coming home might not have actually been the best idea. It was the walk itself that had been helpful, freeing for your mind. Now that you were still again, you were back to where you were in the classroom. Unfortunately, the overthinking anxiety wouldn’t let you just get up and go – not with Ran still in the living room. Did it make any sense? Absolutely not. Did that matter? Nope.

About twenty minutes or so went by with you simply scrolling through social media until you heard the music stop and the rustling of the school supplies being picked up. After five minutes of clean up, the front door opened and then closed again. Just to be extra sure that Ran was gone for good, you watched the clock on your phone click by for ten minutes.

Now you were able to leave.

Wrapping up in a jacket (not Yixing’s), you checked your pockets for all the essentials and then headed out the door.

It was back to the nature center for you. It probably wasn’t the smartest place to go given your last adventure in the park, but it had nice winding trails and there would be people around – at a distance, that is.

The clouds were still heavy in the sky when you arrived. Not to the point where they threatened rain, but enough to color the world a dull gray. Squirrels dotted along the path. Their bellies were round and full, telling you that the locals had been feeding them despite the signs that clearly advised against it. Some were brave enough or curious enough to come close to you, but scurried away as soon as it was clear that you were not one of the gracious humans that bestowed them fluffy bread.

Letting your feet guide you along the asphalt path, you let yourself be absorbed in the trees. Your mind still wander towards Yixing, but you didn’t fight it anymore. You were hoping that overexposure would lead to a numbness, an immunity. But he wasn’t a disease attacking your body, he was just a boy. A cute, dimple-smiled boy who made you feel at ease.

Crack!

You snapped your head up at the sudden sound. You half expected a bunny to come hopping out of the side bushes, letting you laugh at yourself. But it wasn’t a bunny twenty feet off the trail.

It was a wolf.

A gray wolf. Just like the hiker said. And it was staring right at you.

Scanning the area, you searched for the closest route to the main center, but you were too far in. This was exactly why you avoided the woods!

You vaguely remembered the advice not to run because then the wolf would treat you like prey. It always sounded like stupid advice. Even more so now as the creature charged in your direction. You charged off the path in the opposite direction of the wolf, pushing the air out of your lungs and screaming as loud as you could.

“Are you sure it was around here?”

Yixing threw Junmyeon a look. “Yes. I’m sure.”

The two wolves were currently trotting through the woods to find the spot where Yixing had found the man and Ming. Junmyeon wanted a better look at the scene in the off chance he might get a better intact of the scent left behind. Each time they’d gone looking for answers in the past, the scent had been too old and dulled to really pick it apart. They were probably too late now, but they’d spent the last few days at the farmhouse, keeping an eye on Yixing to see if another blackout would occur. It hadn’t, much to Junmyeon’s disappointment.

“It was close to the nature center,” Yixing explained once again. They’d come from the north, rather than straight from the center. Yixing had hoped that he’d have a better insight to the location. They were getting warmer.

A sudden twig snap made their human ears perk up.

“Could that be--”

“It was probably just a rabbit,” Junmyeon guessed.

As if to prove him wrong, the snap was followed by a wolf’s rumbling howl. And then a high pitched scream.

Yixing gasped. He knew that scream.

“That’s (y/n)!”

Junmyeon looked at him, unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

Yixing’s response was a ferocious growl as he took off without his alpha. A wolf always knows his mate.

202 notes · View notes

blueberry-sunghoon · 3 years

Text

"meet me at the ice rink after school" | park sunghoon

words: 5.3k

genre: high school romance, fluff

warnings: none that i can think of

i hope you like this story :))

☆September 2013☆

One late summer afternoon, you and your best friend Sunghoon were at the ice rink, your all-time favorite hangout spot. Of course, your skating skills weren’t nearly as stunning as Sunghoon’s, but throughout the years he had taught you enough so you could manage yourself on the ice. Sunghoon liked to show off new moves he had learned every time he saw you, and he loved to see how your face lit up with amazement when he pulled it off perfectly.

You mainly liked each other’s company, though. When you both were skating with each other, you were free to tell each other everything from your joys to your worries, trusting that the other would laugh with you or be there to comfort you. To each of you, skating with the other felt like home. Today especially, you both needed that. It had been a long day for the both of you; it was your first day of fifth grade, which also happened to be your first day of middle school.

“Today was rough,” you said as you skated alongside Sunghoon.

“Yeah. I didn’t think we would end up not having any classes together. Being apart from you for the whole day… ” Sunghoon sighed before he finished his sentence, “that’ll take some time to get used to.”

“By some miracle, we ended up in the same class every year from kindergarten to fourth grade,” you replied. “Obviously I didn’t think we would have every single class together until 12th grade, but I didn’t think about how hard it would be to be without you.”

“Me neither,” said Sunghoon. "After we got off the bus in the morning and I said goodbye to you, I only saw you once more the whole day. Unfortunately, we were in the hallway and you were way too far away for me to say hi to you. But sitting through eight classes without you in any of them felt really weird, like there was something missing.”

“I didn’t see you at all. All I could do was sit through all my classes, lonely because I barely knew anyone. I missed you, Sunghoon. I don't know how I’m going to do this,” you said with a cracked voice.

Sunghoon noticed you were about to cry, so he stopped skating and hugged you tightly. He let you rest your head on his shoulder as you cried. “It’s okay, y/n, don't cry.”

“It’s not okay!” you retaliated. “How am I supposed to survive middle school without you?”

“We won’t be without each other,” Sunghoon assured you. “I’m still alive, you know. We can still hang out like this after school. And once school clubs open up, we can find one we both like. In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll make some new friends; you’re good at that. You won’t be lonely for long, I promise.”

There was something so reassuring about Sunghoon’s voice that made you feel better. He was right; he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if you couldn’t be together in class, you would still see each other all the time. “Thanks, Sunghoon,” you said softly.

“Mm-hmm,” he said as he pulled away from the hug and wiped away one last stray tear from your face. “Are you good to keep skating?”

“Yeah,” you answered, and the two of you continued to skate. The two of you were quiet for some time, and then a lightbulb went off in the boy’s head.

“y/n, what’s your locker number?”

“56. Why?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon said slyly as a sneaky smile crept up onto his face, “I was just curious.”

~~~

The next morning in second period, you were daydreaming instead of paying attention to the teacher. Among many other things, you were thinking of why Sunghoon wanted to know where your locker was. I’m sure it was nothing, you reasoned, but for some reason you couldn’t push the thought away.

After what seemed like forever, the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Your locker was right outside of that classroom, so you went there to switch out your things. As soon as you opened your locker, however, you were surprised to see a sticky note posted on the inside of the locker door. You were more surprised to see Sunghoon’s handwriting on it. Sunghoon had written you a note. It read,

What do you call a factory that makes okay products? Satisfactory!

You playfully scoffed at the joke before you continued to read the note.

Now you have this corny joke to remember me by all day so you won’t miss me as much. I’ll see you after school :)

From, Sunghoon your favorite person

P.S. My locker number is 179. Do what you will with this information ;)

You were so happy that your best friend had done something that special for you. You took the note and carefully placed it inside the cover of your binder so you would never lose it.

179, huh? You made sure to write Sunghoon a note in reply and put it in his locker before the day was over.

And so began a tradition between you and Sunghoon. Every day you would place a note in the other’s locker, whether it was a corny joke or a word of encouragement if one of you had a big test or a blank note on April Fools day. You never skipped a day; the only way one of you wouldn’t receive a note was if the other person wasn’t at school that day. This continued far beyond the fifth grade. You kept this up all the way through middle school, and now, almost all the way through high school.

☆March 2021☆

You and Sunghoon were now high school seniors, still each other’s closest friend.

Friend. You now shuddered to think of the word. You didn’t regret being by Sunghoon’s side for as long as you both could remember, but over the last two or so years you had developed feelings for him. You wished so badly that you could be more than friends, but you never brought the subject up to him because you didn’t want to risk what you’ve had since you were babies. The sophomore version of you figured that it was probably just a phase, that soon enough your little crush would go away and you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

How you wished that was the case.

Instead, your feelings were stronger than ever, and you found yourself constantly worrying. High school graduation was only three months away, and after that, the two of you were heading off to different universities. Would I have missed my chance by then?

Sunghoon, who was sitting next to you in history class, tapped his pencil on your desk, shaking you from your thoughts. You whipped your head in his direction, confused. He then pointed his pencil at the teacher, who was looking at you and expecting an answer. “I asked you a question, y/n.”

You glanced around the classroom and noticed that the whole class was staring at you. Embarrassed, you mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim, I didn’t hear your question.”

Mr. Kim sighed in frustration. “I asked you what year the French Revolution started.”

You hesitated for a second. “Um, was it 1799?” you guessed, unsure of yourself.

“No,” he replied sharply. “1799 would be the year it came to an end. The revolution started in 1789. y/n, this is the third time I’ve caught you daydreaming during my class this week. I suggest you start paying attention.” And with that, he continued teaching.

You heard a few snickers around the room and you felt humiliated. You felt more blood than you thought you had rush to your face and you slouched down in your seat in shame.

Sunghoon glanced over at you sympathetically. He gave you a sympathetic smile as if to say, “I’m sorry,” and you reciprocated his smile.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to Mr. Kim for the rest of the class period, but it wasn’t easy. In fact, you were so far gone that the bell’s ringing at the end of class escaped your notice. As Sunghoon was packing up his things, he noticed you staring off into space, so he tapped his pencil on your desk once again. “Class is over, y/n,” he said. You saw that half the class was already gone and Mr. Kim was giving you an evil look. “Oh,” you said as you began packing up your things.

By the time you started to pack up, Sunghoon had already finished. You were lucky that he was nice enough to wait for you. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you said apologetically.

“Don't apologize, y/n. I have no problem waiting for you,” he replied. “I have lunch right now anyways, so it doesn’t matter if I’m late.”

What did I do to deserve such an understanding friend?

Finally you finished packing up your things. “I’m ready to go now,” you said to Sunghoon as you put your backpack on.

“Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s go.” You walked with Sunghoon into the hallway.

“Is it an A day or a B day?” you asked as you walked alongside him. “I’m either going to study hall or AP Bio right now and I have no idea which one.” You hoped it was an A day, because you needed some time to yourself after what just happened in history.

“Today is a B day. You have a double period for Bio.”

You sighed in frustration. “Ugh.”

The two of you went quiet for some time. Then Sunghoon finally broke the silence. “y/n, are you okay?”

You quickly glanced at your friend, not knowing what he was referring to. “Yeah. What made you think otherwise?”

“You seem so unfocused lately.”

“Okay, Mr. Kim,” you said sarcastically.

“I’m serious, y/n. And I’m not just talking about history class. Like, you’re always on top of things. These days you seem so forgetful. For example, you’re the one to always remind me whether it’s an A day or a B day, yet today you had no idea. I know you tend to daydream easily, but these days you just seem so out of it. Is there something on your mind? You know you can tell me anything.”

I like you, Sunghoon. I like you a lot, but I have no idea how to tell you. I’m scared of ruining our friendship. I have the constant feeling of running out of time before we go to college, and I don't want it to be too late before I finally get the courage to tell you how I feel.

Of course, you couldn’t tell him any of that. All you could say was, “Don't worry, Sunghoon. I’m fine.” You felt a bit guilty because you rarely hid things from Sunghoon. He was aware of nearly everything that had ever worried you. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about this.

Sunghoon didn’t believe that you were as fine as you said you were. He thought that there was no way something wasn’t bothering you, not with you like this. However, he wasn’t the kind to pry, and he trusted that you would come to him once you felt comfortable. He said, “Okay. If you ever need anything, you know I’m here for you.”

You simply nodded, and the two of you continued to walk in silence until you approached the AP Bio classroom.

“I’ll see you later,” you said.

“Yeah. Um, I have ice skating practice after school today, but I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I get home. I’ll see you then.” He then smiled at you and said, “Keep your head up, okay?”

Once again, you responded by nodding your head. Sunghoon waved you goodbye and he was off to his next destination.

You watched hopelessly as he walked away, and you didn’t enter the classroom until he was completely gone from your sight.

~~~

As soon as you got home from school, you went straight to your room and onto your bed. You pulled your sheets over your head and closed your eyes, trying hard not to think about anything. You were mentally exhausted from thinking so much. Of course, your efforts to not think about the things that stressed you only made you think about them more. Finally, you felt yourself drift into sleep.

After some time, your eyes fluttered open and you checked your phone to see the time. You were out for two and a half hours. You wanted to face your problems instead of avoiding them, so you sat up on your bed and decided to call your friend Sunoo. Sunoo’s good with stuff like this, you thought as your phone rang. You bit your nails as you anxiously waited for him to pick up.

“Hey,” you heard Sunoo say finally.

“Hey Sunoo,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, how about you?”

“Well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath to get rid of the nervous energy before you explained. “See, there’s someone that I like. A lot. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way, but I don't know how to tell him how I feel. We’ve been friends for a long time now, and the last thing I want to do is ruin our friendship right before we head off to different colleges.”

“Oh,” said Sunoo. “Sunghoon, right?”

You felt your heart skip a beat and you raised an eyebrow. That’s suspicious. That’s weird. I’m pretty sure I never told Sunoo that I like Sunghoon. In fact, I didn’t tell anybody… “Um, yeah. How did you know it’s Sunghoon?”

Everyone and their uncle knows you and Sunghoon like each other. I’m pretty sure you two are the only people who don't know. You guys make it painfully obvious, Sunoo thought. “Um, uh, well I know Sunghoon has been your closest friend for a long time now. I figured if there was anyone you liked, it would be Sunghoon.”

“I suppose so,” you said.

“You should tell Sunghoon how you feel.”

You didn’t answer. You wished there was another way around this problem, but there wasn’t. The only option you had was to tell Sunghoon how you felt about him.

“y/n? Are you there?”

Shaken from your thoughts, you hopelessly said, “I can’t, Sunoo. I’m too scared.”

You heard Sunoo sigh before he responded. “There’s a chance he might like you too. But you have to shoot your shot, y/n. Because if you don't, one day you’ll be forty years old, wondering what might have been if you had told the boy you liked when you were 17 how you felt.”

You hated how right Sunoo was. “Sure, there might be a chance that he likes me too,” you started, not believing for a second the statement you just said, “But what if he doesn’t? I will have ruined our friendship.”

“I doubt something like that would ruin your friendship,” said Sunoo. “The bond between you two is incredibly strong, probably stronger than you realize. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to break you guys up. Of course, if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, things might be awkward for some time, but eventually things will return to normal. Sunghoon would never leave you no matter what, and I know you wouldn’t leave him either.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But how do I even go about telling Sunghoon that I like him?”

“y/n, you’re way overcomplicating this. It’s a lot easier than you think. All you have to do is say the words: ‘Sunghoon, I like you.’ Repeat after me: ‘Sunghoon, I like you.’”

“Sunghoon, I like you,” you mumbled with clenched teeth.

“Louder, y/n, I can’t hear you,” Sunoo teased in a singsong voice.

You took a deep breath. “Sunghoon, I like you.”

“That’s more like it,” Sunoo said, satisfied. Then, all of a sudden he got an idea. “Don't y’all leave notes in each other’s lockers every day?”

You weren’t sure where Sunoo was going with this. “Yeah, why?”

“Slip a note in his locker asking him to meet you at the skating rink tomorrow after school. It should be easy to tell him then.”

You had to admit that it was a good idea. Wait. Tomorrow? “Tomorrow? That soon?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sunoo answered without hesitation. “I don't see why not. Otherwise you’ll keep pushing it off and you’ll never actually do it.”

At this point, you were almost infuriated by how right Sunoo was.

“Okay, bet. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You better. In fact, I’ll make sure I call you before I go to bed to ask you how it went.”

You laughed a little. “I hear you laughing!” said Sunoo in a playful tone. “I’m serious, I will call you.”

You heard your mom call you for dinner. “Yeah. Listen, Sunoo, I have to go now, but thanks so much for the talk. I really needed that.”

“No problem, y/n, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye.”

You put down your phone. I can do this, you said to yourself, feeling more determined than ever.

~~~

Not even five minutes after Sunoo got off the phone with you, he received another call. Who could that be? He thought to himself as he looked away from his homework and at his phone. A sneaky smile appeared on his face when he saw who was calling him.

“Hi Sunghoon,” said Sunoo as he picked up the phone.

“Hey,” said Sunghoon. “Uh, I called because I need to talk to you about something.”

Sunoo could see where he was going. “Of course. I’m all ears.”

“Well, there’s someone at school that I’ve liked for a while, but I really don't know how to tell them. I’m also worried that I might ruin our friendship.”

The smile wouldn’t come off Sunoo’s face, no matter how he tried. Are y/n and Sunghoon really that oblivious? “Park Sunghoon, it’s about time you talked to me about this.”

Sunghoon was confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Sunghoon, more confused than before. “But what do you mean ‘it’s about time’?”

“Sunghoon, everyone knows that you like y/n. I’m not sure you could make it any more obvious. The way you look and smile at them when they’re talking to you says everything. You’re obviously whipped. When I first noticed, I was so excited for you, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But I didn’t want to bring it up first because that might have made you uncomfortable. So I waited. It’s been two long years.”

Sunghoon could feel his face flush red with embarrassment. Sunoo really said “This you?”

“Oh,” Sunghoon replied softly. “Well, does y/n know? Do you think they like me too?”

No, they don't know. They’re just as oblivious as you. It kills me how unaware of each other you guys are. Sunoo took a deep breath and chose his next words very carefully. “I can’t say. The only way you’ll know for sure is if you ask.”

“But I can’t tell y/n how I feel. I might ruin our friendship.”

Oh my god, thought Sunoo, it’s almost like they share the same brain. Sunoo assured Sunghoon that he wouldn’t ruin his friendship by telling you how he felt about you. Then, to spice things up, he decided to give Sunghoon the same suggestion he gave you.

“Wait, you might be on to something,” said Sunghoon.

“I know,” said Sunoo, “it’s a gift of mine.”

“That’s actually a good idea, Sunoo. I’ll try it. I have to go now though, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Sunoo hung up the phone, feeling quite proud of himself. “I love it when a plan comes together,” Sunoo said out loud as he continued his homework.

~~~

It was third period the next day. Calculus was your favorite subject, and the one you usually paid the most attention in. Not today, though. All you could think about was going to Sunghoon’s locker and putting the note in there. Once you did, there would be no going back.

You pulled out the note you had written from your folder. Meet me at the ice rink after school today, there’s something I want to tell you :) was what you had written. You stared at the piece of paper as if it would eat you alive. Your hands became sweaty and you could feel your heart racing. How could something so simple torment you so much?

The sound of the bell ringing interrupted your thoughts. Calculus was over, and it was time to go to lunch. You packed up your things and left the classroom. This was usually the time of day when you would slip your daily note into Sunghoon’s locker, so today before you went to lunch, you started to make your way there. It was the same time that Sunghoon would normally do the same thing (except he was on his way to physics), so you two would cross paths in the hallway.

Today when you crossed paths, you quickly said “hi” with a smile to each other. Of course, you both knew that you were going to each other’s lockers, but what you didn’t know was that you had the exact same message for each other.

As you approached Sunghoon’s locker, your heartbeat quickened and your temperature rose, making your glasses foggy. With shaky hands, you put in the combination on the lock and opened his locker. You stood there for a moment, negative scenarios flashing through your mind. You thought about what you would be risking (which, by the way, was everything). We’ve built so much over the years. Do I even dare?

You fixed your gaze on the small, blue, diamond-shaped magnet on the door of Sunghoon’s locker. Every day since fifth grade, you would use that magnet to attach your message to his locker. He had managed to keep the same one all these years. You were so used to seeing it everyday, yet soon enough you wouldn’t be seeing it anymore. That reminded you that you didn’t want to lose your chance with Sunghoon. It’s now or never.

You took a deep breath, then attached the note to the inside of the locker door. Before you could think about taking it back, you closed the locker shut and headed off to lunch. There was no turning back.

After lunch, you went to your locker to switch out your books. Once you opened it, you saw Sunghoon’s note... It wasn’t anything near what you were expecting. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes opened wider than you thought they could. "Meet me at the rink after school, there’s something important I need to tell you."

As if you weren’t more nervous today than you had ever been in your whole life, Sunghoon’s note sent you into anxiety overdrive. What could Sunghoon possibly have to tell me? There were endless possibilities. You thought for a second that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to tell you the same thing you wanted to tell him. But you immediately rejected that idea and laughed it off. Don't be ridiculous, y/n.

You convinced yourself that it likely had something to do with his ice skating - he probably had been invited to a championship or something like that. It wasn’t the first time Sunghoon had invited you to the rink so he could tell you something important. It was just a coincidence that you both had big news that day. You switched out your books and walked to your next class feeling confident.

~~~

When you made it to the rink after school, you saw that Sunghoon was already there, putting on his skates. “You’re late,” he teased.

“Yah, no I’m not! Just cuz you got here first doesn’t mean I’m late. I’m here after school, aren’t I?” you said as you playfully punched his arm.

Sunghoon burst out into laughter. “y/n, what was that? That didn’t even hurt.”

“I could have made it hurt if I wanted to,” you teased. “You’re lucky I’m nice.”

You went to get your skates, and a few minutes later you both were skating alongside each other. You and Sunghoon were talking to each other, but it was mostly small talk. It was obvious that you both were preoccupied with what you wanted to tell each other.

“How’s your sister?” you asked.

“She’s doing good.”

A pause.

“Have you decided on a topic for the English essay?” Sunghoon asked.

“I’m most likely going to do the Civil War. You?”

“I’m doing the Industrial Revolution.”

“Nice.”

Another pause.

Sunghoon sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, a habit you noticed he had when he was nervous. “Let’s get rid of the elephant in the room. We both have stuff to tell each other," he said.

You felt your heart rate go up and you found yourself playing with your fingers to ward off the nervous energy. “Mmm-hmm.”

Sunghoon noticed that you were a bit uneasy. “Do you want me to go first?”

As much as you wanted to say yes, you didn’t trust yourself to not chicken out at the last minute. It took every nerve in your body for you to say, “I’ll go first.”

“Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

“It’s definitely a big one,” you said. You stopped skating, and Sunghoon followed. You were so nervous that you couldn’t even make eye contact with him. I can do this, you thought to yourself as you began.

“Well, Sunghoon, we’ve been best friends since the beginning, you know? And, um, through all these years you’ve been there for me through thick and thin. You’ve honestly been the best friend I’ve ever had. Well, you see, it’s been about two years since I started feeling differently about you. I’ve been dying for so long to tell you how I feel, but I was scared that I might ruin our friendship. But I’ve been thinking a lot about my feelings lately, and I just can’t hide this from you anymore.”

Are they about to tell me what I think they are? Sunghoon thought to himself.

You took a deep breath before you continued. “I guess what I mean to say is,” you said as you finally looked up to make eye contact with Sunghoon, “is that I like you, Sunghoon. Could we be more than friends?”

At this point, you were insanely anxious. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you thought you could faint. And it didn’t help that Sunghoon wasn’t saying anything, just staring at you. What you didn’t know was that he was just as anxious as you; he was just better at keeping it all in than you. He could hardly believe that he had just heard those words from you.

You immediately broke eye contact with Sunghoon and looked off to the side so he couldn’t see how embarrassed you were. “Or not,” you mumbled. “I mean if you don't wanna be more than friends that’s okay I mean we can still be friends that’s completely fine I just hope I haven’t ruined everything oh God who am I kidding what have I done-”

You were interrupted by the sound of Sunghoon sighing. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him smiling from ear to ear. You turned your head to face him and said, “What?”

“Stop rambling already.”

Before you had time to process what he said, he leaned in and quickly, yet softly, kissed your cheek. You were in utter shock and disbelief, and you felt your face go hot. A tiny smile came across your face.

Sunghoon saw your glasses fogging up and that’s when he knew you were blushing. He decided to tease you. “Aw, I make you flustered.”

You became playfully defensive and flicked his hand. “Yah! No you don't.”

Sunghoon laughed. “Yes I do,” he said as he swiftly took your hand and intertwined it with his. He swung your hand up and down and his smile got even bigger as your eyes lit up. “You look like the pleading eyes emoji right now.”

You let out a nervous yet happy laugh. “Sunghoon, you’re killing me.” Never in your wildest dreams did you think this moment would ever come to be.

Sunghoon cleared his throat. “In all seriousness though, y/n, I really like you too.”

“I’m so glad I was able to get that out,” you said as you let out a happy sigh. “I’d been keeping it in for a long time. I was so worried about messing up our friendship and especially over the past few weeks I’ve been worried about once we go to college, we’ll be physically apart. Thankfully, though, yesterday I talked to Sunoo about everything and he really helped me muster the courage to tell you how I feel.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat when you mentioned Sunoo. There’s no way. “Oh, you talked to Sunoo? I heard he’s good with stuff like that. What did he say?”

“You know, he told me that it was better for me to shoot my shot so that down the road I wouldn't regret not taking a chance. And he was right. I don't regret this at all.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me, because I would really like to be more than friends with you. And, um, I’m not worried about going off to different colleges or being physically apart. I believe in us; we’ll find a way.”

“Then I’m not worried about it either,” you said, relieved.

“I’m glad,” Sunghoon said. “Does Saturday work for a date? I can pick you up at your house around 7:00.”

“That sounds great, Sunghoon.”

“Perfect,” said Sunghoon, his smile bigger than ever. “You wanna keep skating now?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’d like that.”

You and Sunghoon continued to skate, and the rest of the afternoon was filled with happiness and laughter. The smiles never came off either of your faces, and neither of you had even thought of letting go of the other’s hand. The two of you were so happy in this moment and you didn’t want it to end.

All good things must come to an end, though, and your afternoon with Sunghoon was no different. Sunghoon felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his hoodie and he pulled it out. His mom had sent him a text. “My mom’s asking me where I am,” said Sunghoon with a twinge of disappointment. “I guess I can’t blame her; we’ve been here for almost four hours. I should get going.”

“No problem Sunghoon. I should probably get home as well. I need to get started on my homework.”

You and Sunghoon left the rink, still holding hands. You two were parked next to each other in the parking lot, and there you said your goodbyes. Before you went in your car, however, you thought of something. “Hey, Sunghoon, did you have anything in mind you wanted to tell me when you invited me here? You know, anything not related to what I told you?”

“Nope. That was exactly it,” Sunghoon said with a smile. “Believe it or not, I also talked to Sunoo yesterday evening.”

“No way,” you said, a bit dumbfounded. “Did you actually?”

“Yeah. Looks like great minds think alike.” He gave you a wink, and before he turned around to get in his car, he said, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

#enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #park sunghoon #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen writers #enhypen reactions #enhypen timestamps #enhypen angst

102 notes · View notes

koskareevesismyqueen · 3 years

Text

Wrecker, a medic and a loth cat

Pairing: Wrecker x gn!reader

Word count: ~850

Rating: general

Warning: Loth cat is injured so will involve blood, injuries and medical treatment however nothing overly gory or descriptive

Author notes: I could have written a lot more on the medical side for this but I decided to keep it short as I know not everyone wants a description of how to correctly suture a cat...also is it entirely Star Wars correct? Nope lol but we roll! I hope you enjoyed and if you have any clone (or other star wars) prompts drop them in my ask!

You stretch out on the bench, soothing your cramped hand. Exam revision was stressful but coming out with the Bad Batch for a weekend away had helped. It was nice to have a break from making mind maps and flash cards in your cramped room to making mind maps and flash cards on the marauder. You pick up your data pad and flick to the next song, the ship filling with smooth lofi beats. Yeah, installing a speaker was definitely one of Tech’s better ideas. You consider whether its time to take a break and grab yourself a cup of tea, a fancy kind that Wrecker had picked up for you when they were passing through Naboo on a mission, when you hear your comm click indicating that they were back. It was a small precaution that had been taken after they had virtually sneaked up on you once and had almost earned them a shot from the blaster that they had insisted you keep by you when you were alone. You hear the hissing sound of the hydraulics as the ramp opens, then the ship is flooded with the sound of the boys arguing. Obviously.

“Wrecker, you can’t bring back every waif and stray we find!” Hunter snaps, clearly irritated by whatever Wrecker has done this time.

Wrecker lets out a whine. “It’s injured, Hunter, did you want me to leave it to die? When we have a perfectly good medic on board?”

“Trainee medic!” You shout back, although you doubt they heard you.

“If we had left the loth cat it only stood a 31% chance of surviving,” Tech points out which everyone retaliates with a groan.

With a sigh, you sweep your work back into your folder, place your colourful gel pens in your pencil case then stand up. You quickly stretch, soothing out the ache in your shoulders from sitting hunched over for so long, as you prepare for the Wrecker and the loth cat’s entrance.

Wrecker walks through first, carrying the little loth cat in his arms.

“Hang on, Wreck. Let me just clean the table off first.” You grab the cleaning solution and a fresh rag and begin wiping the table down. “Can someone grab me the medpac please?”

Once you’re happy the table is clean, you motion for Wrecker to pop it down. The cat lets out a little mewl, clearly unhappy to be out of Wrecker’s arms.

“Hey, I think it’s taken a liking to you Wreck,” you say with a smile as you tickle it under the chin. The loth cat rolls over, exposing the deep cut under her elbow. You quickly examine it and decide it’s an easy fix, and also why Tech had diagnosed the cat with a low chance of survival.

“You want the good news, or the bad news first?”

Wrecker looks up at you uncertainly, fear filling his expressive eyes.

“Is it going to die?”

You let out a soft chuckle.

“Nope, she just needs cleaning up and a few stitches. Nothing major. A little bacta and she’ll be as good as new!”

“She?” Wrecker asks, his face lighting up.

“Yep,” you say with a slight wince, “That’s the bad news. Your new loth cat is about to turn into several new loth cats.”

“WHAT?!” Hunter demands as he steps up to the table. You swat him away as you pick up some cotton pads and antiseptic and begin cleaning the wound. Almost like she knows you’re here to help, she lies as still as possible, occasionally moving her head to inspect your handiwork. “No way. We are not having loth kittens running around.”

“Too late,” you say with a grin as you check that all the blood is clean from her fur. You push the dirty material to the side and instead grab the little pack ready for you to stitch the wound back up. “You think you can really get Wrecker to part with her now?”

“Please sarge, I’ll look after her. I’ll keep her clean, and feed her, and play with her.”

Hunter lets out a sigh and agrees with a face that says it’s entirely reluctant.

You carefully finish the stitches then apply a layer of bacta spray, finishing off by giving her an affirmative tickle under the chin. She quickly begins to purr and Wrecker scoops her back up. He sits down and you snuggle into his side. You both watch as she stretches her little paws out and begins making muffins, her little claws flexing as she digs her needle like nails into Wrecker’s stomach. To his credit, he takes it like a champ even though you know how painful it can be.

“Well, we’re parents now,” Wrecker says with a beaming smile as he leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

You chuckle in response. “And soon to be grandparents. They grow up so fast, ay?”

You and Wrecker lie there together, eventually falling asleep with the little loth cat peacefully curled up in his lap.

♡♡♡♡♡

#bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch x reader #wrecker x reader #wrecker

87 notes · View notes

caesthetix · 3 years

Text

GREAT DESCENDANT — Pt. 2 Extra Bread

↪Attack on Titan series

↪content; warrior!reader, aged-up character, graphic description of violence, slow burn, season 4 spoiler

"T-Thank you, sir!"

He stuttered out and bowed a little to the soldier who gave him five loaves of bread. Though the older man did not acknowledge his gratitude at all, instead he just sneered at him, making him flinch since he was reminded of the fact that this island filled with demons.

His long feet stride out from the line, wanting to get back to where his friends waited. Today it was his duty to get the food for his companions, and it needed all of his courage to utter how many people in his family were left when the soldier asked him.

Four, it was the right answer that he was supposed to say. But he couldn't help but stutter five instead. It had only been a few weeks after they breached the outer wall, Maria, and yet he still couldn't believe that it was only the four of them now.

Each of them was grieving. Annie would now scowl a lot and buried her face in her hands, not wanting anyone to see the vulnerable look on her face. Reiner was different, he tried to act tough despite the nightmares that often accompanied him in his sleep. While him? He hid his sadness and pain deep inside his heart because he knew that someone suffered more.

You, you didn't talk at all for days as if you were just their shadows. Annie made sure that you were not hurt when he and Reiner crushed the gate. And even though you were not uttering any words, you could do your task ideally without a hitch, and that was to sneak inside with battered clothes, acting like a child who lost everything.

But maybe you were indeed lost everything, that was what he thought when he saw you just staring into spaces without any expression on your face. The bubbly and warm person that he met back then in Marley was nowhere to be found at this point and he hoped that someday he could meet her again.

When his pale green eyes fell to the familiar strands of your hair, he started to run, wanting to give you the bread for today since the sun was up for hours yet no one ate anything just yet. The shelter where all of them were hiding was an abandoned barn just outside the main city, no one knew who the owner of it was, but when Reiner found it empty, they decided to use it as a temporary house.

They just needed to survive for a few years and they could enroll in the military after that. But now they had to make a plan about what they should do in the meantime. Now they were just four orphans who lost everything from wall Maria. A few days ago a soldier gave them a form to fill out, consisting of some questions about names, birth, and the residence they used to live in before.

And that was the first time he heard your voice after weeks wallowing yourself in silence. When Marcel was alive, he told you that you needed to change your last name. Just for a disguise, it was the safest option because who would have expected if someone knew the weight of your name.

"No." You whispered out, one hand scribbling down the paper to write your name. "I am not going to lose my identity. No." There was a lingering pain in your voice that everyone could notice. "I will do anything, Reiner, but not this. This is my last name and I will lose it if someone takes it away from me."

The blonde frowned when he heard your rebellion, you seemed fine when Marcel asked you to do that back then, but now you changed your mind and he wished he knew the words that could sway you. You continued to write down your information without stopping while the boys stared at you with wonder.

Annie knew that you couldn't be forced to do something that you wouldn't do, so she just shrugged it off and focused on her paper, not wanting to spend her time filling forms if she could do it fast. She really thought Reiner would drop it after hearing your statement, but sometimes he just didn't know when to stop.

"Hey, but Marcel would tell you to do the same."

Bertolt could imagine his friend getting beaten up again at this point. But this time not from Annie, instead, he would get it from you who was now gripping so tight on the pencil that he was afraid you would stab the armoured titan inheritor on the neck with it.

"That's the thing, Braun." You gritted your teeth, avoiding yourself for kicking him on the face. And when the poor boy heard you called him by his last name, he knew that he was done for good. "Marcel is not here anymore, and you are not Marcel."

Bertolt made a note on his head that he would never want to get on your bad side. He felt a shiver down his spine at that time when you completely disregarded Reiner, and those words were not even for him. He couldn't imagine what his friend felt, must be hell for sure.

"Hey, I-I got the food for us today." Stopping on his track right in front of you. You were currently cleaning up the dust on the window, he recalled you said that you despised dirty windowpane last night, and he raised his eyebrow since he wondered how you got some clothes to clean it up with.

"Thank you, Bertolt." You gave him a soft smile, and from just that gesture he could feel his cheek burning from — goodness, he didn't even know what he was feeling right now. "Oh? You got five? How?" He was still in a trance when you threw the question, making him baffled for a second there.

"I said that there were five members in my family." He averted his eyes, ashamed to confess that to you. That and the fact he would see the sadness inside your eyes if he did so."I didn't mean to, really, b-but I only realised it after the soldier gave the portion to me."

"Oh, Bertolt." You let out a long sigh and grabbed two pieces of bread from his hand. "You know you could correct yourself after that, right?" He knew that you were scolding him, but with how soft your voice was, he just accepted it, not even once trying to correct himself. "I will give it back to the soldier, okay? You go inside, Reiner and Annie are waiting for you."

"But shouldn't you eat first?" He was concerned for sure, and despite knowing the fact that you could handle this harsh world by yourself, he was not sure if it was the right choice to let you go alone. "I can drop this off to them and I can accompany you, right?"

You chuckled at this, and his pupils widened at that since it was the first time you expressed some kind of joyful gesture since Marcel's incident. Your eyes closed as you chuckled at him, he didn't know what he did to make you like this but his brain short-circuited to even think about it. He just stood there with mouth agape, enjoying the pure, melodious giggle that slipped from your mouth.

"Bertolt," And how much he loved his name rolled down your tongue was uncanny. "It's okay, I will eat mine on the way. And I can handle myself, I am going to be back before you know it! You don't have to be concerned about me." You gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his body went rigid at that. "See you later, tell the others where I am going, okay?"

He was too frozen in the spot even when you already strolled down the street with the loaves of bread in your hand. There was no time for him to answer you, and he felt like all the words were stuck in his throat. You just touched him, that was the only thing that he could process right now.

Yes, it was nothing special since you always held Pieck's hand back then or gave a pat to the other warrior candidates (especially Porco, for as long as he remembered even though the boy seemed to dislike your presence and unfazed by it), but to him, feeling your touch like that was everything.

It gave him some kind of boost, maybe it was the warm tingle that he felt whenever you were around or the fact that your existence just screamed comfort — he didn't know exactly what caused him to treasure your touch. What he knew for sure that in the end, he enjoyed your company.

"Oi, Bertolt! Why are you standing there like a statue?!"

"S-Sorry, Reiner—"

〄

The wind caressed your hair as you wandered down the street, turning left and right to the alleyway that would lead you to the plaza. This place had been your home for a few weeks now, and you started to enjoy living here, greeting some people here and there despite how many times Reiner told you not to.

They would ask, of course, where you were from. And you always answered it without hesitation, without a pause, as if the one who talked was an entirely different person with how you always lost all the light in your face when you gave them your answer. They would sympathize, and you took their pity and kept acting it out.

You had a different approach in this mission compared to the other warrior. While they decided to keep a low profile, you were going all out and showed yourself as a victim from the fall of wall Maria. Lots of benefits coming your way with how some adults asked you to move in with them or offering you a job so you could fend for yourself.

Their offers were always so sweet, but you didn't want to leave your friends inside a cold barn with nothing to lay on except the pile of hay. You always ended up cuddling with Annie, not caring that she wanted to kick you on the face at first for not giving her enough space, she ended up liking to sleep in your embrace days after that, so for you, it was all worth it.

Maybe though, their offer about working for them could help you. There were some of them and you sure at least one of the jobs had good earnings. You could buy food for your friends if that was the case, all of you didn't have to rely on free food anymore. And so, you decided that you would go to the adult near the plaza after this, asking if the offer was still up.

"I am sorry! It was already late and there was only one bread left for us!"

Your ears caught the distressed tone that came from the alleyway near you. The plaza was empty now since it seemed like the ration already finished for the day. To know that a lot of people couldn't even have one bread to eat made your stomach churned with guilt and anger for yourself.

"It's alright, Armin. We can share it."

"Yeah, it's not like I eat a lot anyway."

There were three of them, three children that looked like they were the same age as you, and they only got one piece of bread for the whole day. Knowing that the soldier was not there anymore and the commotion already dispersed, you decided to give the bread to them instead.

Your tiny feet waddled toward them, they were currently deep in thought about how to divide the food fairly. And you were thankful that you haven't eaten your fair of bread, so now each of the kids could have one.

"Excuse me," You interrupted their discussion, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to face you. Two of them looked at you with confusion while the other one had her eyes filled with caution. "I am sorry, I heard about your problem before, and I have two extra pieces of bread that you guys could take."

The two boys, one with blonde hair and the other with short dark brown hair — looked at each other without saying anything. It was like they had this kind of bond, talking through their minds before giving each other a nod. Maybe they were debating if it was alright to accept your hospitality or not.

"It's fine, but is this bread really alright for us to take?" The boy with the ocean blue eyes spoke up, taking one step forward to your figure. "What about you then, have you eaten yet today?"

"Yes, it's fine. If not, I am not going to offer it in the first place." You gave him a gentle smile before answering his next question a little bit too quickly to your liking. "Don't worry about me! I already got breakfast before and ate mine. You don't have to think—"

"You are lying." The girl that had been silent the whole time suddenly cut your sentence. "Don't tell me I am wrong because I am sure that I am right." She didn't sugarcoat her words at all, and you couldn't understand anymore if her words mean good or bad. Because surely her onyx orbs looked at you as if you were a threat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled loudly, knowing that you couldn't lie anymore with how sharp the three of them were. But this fact wouldn't stop you from wanting them to take your fair.

"Well, yes, I haven't eaten." Surrendering yourself to honesty, you continued. "But I am going to be fine, an adult in this shop near the plaza offered me a job and food, so I could get it from them after this." You explained truthfully, handing them the bread thereafter.

"Then how come you had extra bread in the first place?" The short-haired boy now squinting his eyes, wanting to understand your hidden motive in case there were any. "You had one for yourself too despite knowing that you could get food from this adult you told us about. So why should we trust you?"

"Eren!"

Ah, so the boy's name is Eren. You thought, couldn't believe that someone would even doubt the others for giving free food. But then again, you couldn't blame them for being extra cautious. No one knew what could happen inside these walls. The worst-case scenario from this was that you poisoned them to get rid of another life to prevent any more hunger.

"You don't have to trust me, of course." You answered him with a soft and calm tone, something that you learned from your house back in Marley. That even when someone raised their voice at you, you needed to handle them with care. "My friend was the one who got the food from me, and he didn't check that he got extra food, so I am here with the first mission to give it back to the garrison soldier."

You gave them the answer that they want, both hands still pushed forward, waiting for them to take it. "Promise I wouldn't disturb you anymore, I just want to make sure you guys get enough food. That's all."

There was a long silence engulfing the four of you. That was until the blonde took the bread out of your hand and gave you a smile of gratitude, which you answered with the same gesture as him. The other two were now looking at you with a softened gaze, finally stripping away their caution towards you.

"I am sorry that I sounded rude before." The brunette started, giving you a cheeky smile as his ears tinted with a pinkish hue. "I just need to be careful around strangers, everything just messed up at this time, you know?" He chuckled bitterly, his eyes darkening as if a terrible memory fleeting through his mind for a second.

"It's fine. I know where that thought is coming from." You kicked the pebbles near your foot before, making it bounce to the wall as you looked down. "Everything is just a nightmare after the breach." And you tried so hard not to break down, not in front of anyone, especially those who were the victim of your action. "All of you — didn't deserve any of it."

Your voice that was so warm and comforting before now turned into a completely different tone. There was sadness, at least that was what they could hear from you. They couldn't see the expression in your eyes since you persisted in looking down at your feet, avoiding their gaze at all cost.

"And you didn't deserve it too."

The blonde, that if you recalled from before was called Armin, telling you words that you thought you wouldn't need to hear. "No one wanted this to happen, no one deserved to live like this." He continued, and you were ready to crumble even more. "But this is our life, for now, so we can't do anything else but move on."

You wanted to get down on your knees, hugging his legs as you begged for forgiveness. Just like what you saw in some of the memories from your ancestors, there were just normal human beings inside these walls. Just like in Marley, just like on the other continent, there were good and bad people, and nothing differentiated them except the fact that they had a titan's blood flowing inside their veins.

Nothing else but that — and the dangerous truth that lies within the walls.

"It's called rumbling, right?"

Just one month from now, you were going to inherit the war hammer titan, and you have been studying a lot, reading the journal that your ancestor wrote. The book was so helpful, preparing you to know the truth that this world had to hide. Sometimes your twelve years old brain could not even understand it.

The past few years you had been training hard privately. You got the best instructor, honing your mental and physical build at the same time. But since you reached the age of ten, your father introduced you to Commander Magath who was in charge of the Warrior Unit, the unit for those titan inheritors.

And you trained with them ever since then. Creating a bond and friendship to those who would fight alongside you in the upcoming battle. The majority of them were easy to talk with like Marcel, Pieck, Zeke, Reiner, and Bertolt. While the rest — not so much.

Annie was fine though, she still talked to you here and there and taught you about some certain techniques of hand-to-hand combat that you deemed remarkably useful. Porco on the other hand, you wanted to grimace at the interaction that you had with him. Yet despite all that, you couldn't stop yourself from smiling for just thinking about him.

But this moment was not the right time to reminisce about the warrior training, not when a few months from now, you would embark on a mission to reclaim the founding titan.

"Yes, when the founding titan decided to unharden the walls and released millions of colossal titan, it was called rumbling." Your father sat across from where you were, filling out papers from the military about you. "If that happened, the whole world would turn into nothing."

You gave a nod of acknowledgement, fingers tracing the ink that seeped on the worn-out paper journal.

"So it was risky to let the founding titan stay in Paradis since no one knew if someday they would activate the rumbling or not." You stated the sentence as a matter of factly, absorbing the information that sometimes made your head pound. "It was risky since they closed themselves inside those walls and no one knew what happened there."

"Yes, my dear." His voice cracked like any other time, having so much burden for throwing you to the frontline of the battle like that. You, his little star, his precious daughter that he never wanted to turn her into a war machine that could only live for thirteen years. "That is why you need to prevent it from happening."

But it was something that needed to be done — and there was nothing that you could do except embracing the cruel truth like an old friend.

"Yes, you are right." Fixing your composure, you were back to the kind girl from before. "Thank you for telling me that, I think I need it." You chuckled softly, fingers tucking the strands of your hair behind the ear. "I-I will go now, then. Hope all of you survive and continue on living!"

Bowing yourself a little before departing (a trait that you couldn't shake off that easily), you waved at them and turned your heels, walking away from the three children that you really hoped would have a beautiful life ahead, for as long as they could have.

"Wait!" But you halted your feet to move forward when you heard Eren's voice calling out for you.

"Yes? What is it?" You were still not that far from them, so you decided to use your normal volume as if they were still right in front of you.

"We haven't got your name!" Yet despite how calm you were, the boy seemed to choose to shout at you anyway. "I am Eren! This is Armin and Mikasa, they are everything that I had left! Now, what's yours?!"

Hearing how excited he was made you giggle, such a complete opposite for real compared to him a few minutes ago when he looked at you with caution. Now he became the child he was supposed to be, with a wide grin on his face as he just wanted to know the name of his probably new friend.

And so you indulged him with it, answering his question with a clear and solid tone.

"It's (Y/n)!" You decided to shout back, equaling his enthusiasm. "(Y/n), (Y/n) Tybur!"

Paradis Citizen(s)

↪@yumaryko @may-machin @cuteissei

↪Back to Great Descendant Masterlist OR Wall Maria

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #Jean Kirschstein #jean kirschtein fluff #bertholdt hoover #attack on titan bertholdt #bertholdt x reader #bertolt x reader #Bertolt Hoover #porco galliard x reader #attack on titan porco #porco galliard imagine #aot imagines #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk imagines

64 notes · View notes

thetinypsychologist · 4 years

Text

A GUIDE TO STUDYING ONLINE/ONLINE SCHOOL

Hello all! Since I’ve started university now I thought I’d make a post on how to survive online school/studying!

SYNCHRONOUS VS ASYNCHRONOUS

Synchronous - taking part in online classes live via Zoom, MS Teams etc. It basically means also that you have to be at your computer or at least on your phone every time you normally should be at campus. This also means that you can interact with the teacher, ask questions but may also have to be prepared and be able to answer questions.

Asynchronous - taking part in online classes via some kind of communication tool, for example email, or your school’s e-drive. Teachers can send powerpoints, documents or even a video of them explaining a topic. You will have to finish the assignment until a certain date and either upload it or send it to them. The advantage of this is that you can save time if you are faster than the normal duration of the course. Furthermore, you can decide for yourself when you are spending time on this subject and work at your pace.

MAKE A TIMETABLE / TO-DO LIST

Make yourself a timetable or write down in your planner when you have to be online for which course and with what kind of tool (Zoom, Teams, email). You can also add in times you’re going to do your asynchronous work. For example on Tuesday’s I have a free day from synchronous lectures so I will catch up with asynchronous work then. Alternatively, make a to-do list whether it’s for the day or for the week. Mark the tasks you have to do the soonest with a certain colour or with a symbol beside it. If it’s not clear from the assignment itself, also write down to which subject or module the assignment belongs and how to submit it (for example upload to Teams or sending it via email). Learn to prioritise your tasks. TIP: make a folder for all your subjects/assignments and organise by module/topic. Edit: So now all my lectures are asynchronous, and I have on campus seminars so what I’ve done when making my timetable is: write in all timetabled/on-campus/synchronous sessions, and then from there I can see when I’m free to slot in any asynchronous lectures - and I’ll timetable these so I don’t forget to do them. I’ll also take into account when my seminars are e.g. if I have a social psychology seminar on Tuesday, I’ll make sure I get the social psychology lecture done before that seminar, rather than doing it on Friday when I have a free day.

TAKING NOTES

It can be hard to take notes on the laptop while in synchronous teaching. You can either go online with your phone and take notes on your laptop, take notes by hand or you can also try splitting your screen (which is what I do) between your MS Teams/Zoom and MS Word so you can see/hear what is being streamed while taking your notes. Many universities also enable a rewatch function,or they record lectures so you can watch the stream multiple times. If you have the possibility (and time) to rewatch the lesson, focus during the live stream only on understanding the topic and on asking questions if necessary. Take your notes while listening to the stream for the second time. This way, you will understand the topic better because you can fully focus on it. By listening to it a second time and writing down the important things, you also have your first revision! Only do this if the rewatch option of the stream is available and you have the time.

CHOOSE YOUR WORKSPACE WISELY

You probably already have one or multiple study spaces at home that you are used too. Probably (or hopefully) they are also practical - however, what is practical for studying in private might not be practical for synchronous teaching. Make sure the lighting is right so if you need to put your camera on - your face is recognisable and the light doesn’t cast shadows that may affect the call/camera. Make sure you also have enough space for your devices, pencil case, planner, drinks, notepad etc and make sure you have your chargers and you have a sufficient wi-fi connection!

FAMILIARISE YOURSELF WITH THE SOFTWARE

Whether it’s MS Teams, Zoom, or your school’s personal portal - familiarise yourself with how it works and where everything is found. This makes uploading work easier for you and helps you stay organised.

FIND A ROUTINE

Find a routine that works for you in terms of keeping up to date with your work, maintaining your social life and keeping some free time. Whether that’s a timetable by above or just settling into a routine - find what works best for you. E.g I wake up usually about 90 minutes before my first online session, take notes and in-between sessions, make sure I’ve uploaded everything onto my workspace in Notion (let me know if you want more info on this!) and then when I have more time I’ll check emails, plan blog posts etc etc. Make sure to try get at least 8 hours sleep every night and try maintain your social life/free time!

I think that’s everything I can think of! I do hope this helped! Please remember that we are all in the same boat with online learning and don’t be afraid to ask your teachers/peers for help!

235 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 4 years

Text

Blessing and a Curse | PJM

~summary: You are the unlukiest person you know. Park Jimin seems to be the exception to the rule. But when strange dreams start haunting you, Jimin begins to piece together the events that have followed you your whole life...

~word count: 12.7k (anyone know if this is too long for a oneshot haha)

~college!au, magic!au, fluff, angst

~Warnings: nightmares, house fire, knife injury and blood, mentioned homophobia/biphobia, swearing

~a/n: happy (almost) halloween! welcome to my new oneshot, I really hope you enjoy it! -if you’re worried about the warnings, all except the nightmares happen near the end and are probably skippable, but if you might be triggered then please be on the safe side and save this for later 💜this story isn’t primarily about those things, it’s about jimin and yn being cute hehe

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

She is: you can see it in the way her mouth moves, but she is articulating without sound.

Your ears are plugged with water, you can hear it in the way it rumbles. Maybe that same water is what is drowning out everything else, blurring the edges of this scene. Yes, the room is dark, but surely something is in the shadows.

Why would she be here alone?

There is a fire: of that you are sure. Nothing else would light the lady’s face in a scarlet glow, deepening her wrinkles until they seem carved of wood. Only her continued movement shatters this illusion.

In the glimmering light, her eyebrows sink in the middle, fixing you with a stare.

She is approaching.

Her eyes are all you can see, a flame visible within them and they rush to you. The heat of fire is no longer merely imagined. No, you feel it crawling over you as you watch her mouth move without sound.

It can’t be water around you, because you can’t move. Fire can’t survive in water. But here it is, pinning you down, smothering you.

Maybe you are dying.

She is talking.

The woman with age-worn skin is looking at you. Only one face is visible in the darkness of the room.

The room was still dark. Something was different, you thought vaguely as you blinked.

And then suddenly, everything was different.

No face is visible.

You can hear: you cough, and the sound of it reaching your ears startles you. No water, then.

More evidence of this is the fact you can see, even in the dark, the glow that fights its way around your curtain from the street lamp outside illuminating your bedroom. You can move.

You certainly aren’t dying.

That’s a relief.

Morning comes, the streetlamp has turned off and you pay no mind to the dream hovering just out of your memory’s reach. Plenty like that have come before, and plenty will follow.

Anyway, it’s just a dream.

Now, you are more preoccupied with checking and double checking your bag. Your laptop, notebooks and folders are in there. First aid kit, check. Pencil case, check. Five memory sticks, check.

On your way to campus, you dodged a ladder leaning against a house and walked right into the path of a van splashing muddy water up your jeans. Sighing, you pulled out some tissues to dry it off as best you could, backing into a wall to get out of the splash zone again.

Of course, you backed into a pile of dog poo.

Scowling, you scraped the bottom of your shoe furiously against the pavement and hurried on.

Today was one of the rare occasions when Yoongi had arrived before you. On any normal Monday morning, he would slink in after about half an hour into class, but there he sat in the entrance hall, looking blearily round at you and licking his lips as he set his coffee down.

However, your attention was drawn away by the boy sitting with him.

Park Jimin.

As you slid into the third seat at the table, you widened your eyes at Yoongi, hoping to convey your panic.

“Hey, I was just going to grab a coffee, would you like one?” Jimin smiled at you, standing.

You swallowed, quickly turning back to him.

“Oh-um, er, no, I- it’s okay. Thank you.”

“Okay,” he smiled sweetly again and walked across to the little bar across the space.

“God, just let him buy you a coffee,” Yoongi groaned, “or do you really expect anything to happen if you never say yes?”

“They always give me shit coffee here,” you sighed, glancing back at Jimin waiting in the queue.

“You say that about everywhere,” Yoongi said. He let his head fall into his hand so it covered half his face.

“That’s because it’s true!” you protested, but he had heard it before. “What are you doing here anyway? You look half asleep.”

“Jimin dragged me,” he mumbled into his palm.

“Woe is you,” you laughed, slumping back on your seat and swinging your feet. You had given up tipping your chair long ago.

When Jimin came back, it was only to scoop up his bag before heading off to his class. That was the most you ever seemed to talk to him, as much as you would like to get to know him more. Being flatmates with your closest friend in your department saw him at plenty of the same parties, but you were too scared to approach him.

Something would go wrong.

With you, it always did. Yoongi said you were just a pessimist, which held a lot of weight coming from him.

Class went smoothly. A pen had leaked in your pencil case, and promptly ran out of ink when you tried to use it, but other than that, you came out unscathed.

It wasn’t until that afternoon that the wind picked up.

After a long day of classes, you parted ways with Yoongi to go to the library, while he left for basketball practise. Tugging your scarf tighter around you, you fought against the weather on the short walk between buildings.

On reaching your refuge, you tiptoed through the rows of books to the study area. Luckily, one last spot was left by the window, where you could see the grey clouds rolling by, the odd leaf whisking past and the branches tugged by the wind.

Smile spreading over your face, you marched towards it, setting your things down. But the moment you sat, the chair’s back leg buckled, a snap resounding through the silent space and drawing glares from the other students.

Mentally cursing, you pulled yourself up and settled for the most hidden table you could find. Sure, you could handle the dust and the flickering light in this corner.

To be fair, you did get a good amount of studying done, satisfied by the time you pulled on your scarf again and set off home.

The few trees dotted around campus creaked in the gale when you passed them. Head down against the wind, you pressed on, not looking up until you heard a familiar voice. What they were saying wasn’t quite audible, but you would recognise it anywhere. Maybe your little crush was getting a little out of hand.

Looking around, you saw Jimin with a couple of friends coming out of the gym across the courtyard.

Okay, he hadn’t seen you yet. Maybe he wasn’t coming this way?

No such luck.

Their voices drew closer, so you picked up the pace, digging your face deeper into the wool around your neck. Park Jimin was behind you, no big deal. Just don’t embarrass yourself.

But the moment you took a deep breath, a scraping sound came from above you. Frowning, you looked up distractedly. There it came again, a gravelly noise somewhere overhead. This time, though, it didn’t stop, only growing louder, and there-!

A shape, sliding off the roof, right over your head. In the blink of an eye, you scrambled to move, but your feet were caught and you tripped, inelegantly face-planting the ground as a smashing sound deafened you.

A stinging pain flared in your calf.

“Oh my god! Y/N?”

From your front-seat view of the floor, you groaned, taking a moment to close your eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Inhaling, you finally pushed yourself up to sit just as Jimin rushed up to you, his two friends close behind. Forcing a grimace, you tried to ignore your burning face as he knelt down, discarding his bag.

There, right beside your leg, lay a cracked roof tile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bending your leg to get a closer look. The source of the pain showed itself; your jeans were torn, a deep graze on your skin underneath where the tile must have caught you.

Beside you, Jimin’s hands hovered, twitching as he debated what to do. He watched as you twisted your ankle experimentally and winced.

“You should go to the doctor,” he told you. He was right, too. At least there was one on campus that you could hopefully reach on an injured leg-

“I’ll take you, come on,” he pushed his bag into his friend’s arms and threw yours over his own shoulder. Before you could utter a word, his shoulder was under your arm, helping you stand.

“Thank you,” you spluttered, “I-I think it should be fine though-“

Right on cue, you stood on you bad foot, which instantly gave way as you choked back a cry.

“It’s just twisted!” you exclaimed, though your full weight was pretty much weighing down on Jimin.

“Best to get it checked,” one of his friends chimed in, clapping you on the shoulder as he set off walking in the direction of the health centre.

Sighing, you gave in and allowed Jimin to help as you hobbled next to him.

“That’s Hoseok,” he said, smiling again, “and that’s Tae.”

Holding up a hand, Tae bobbed his head at you with a grin.

“Hi,” you panted.

It was likely that your attempt to return a smile failed, with the bugging pain in your ankle. Either way, Tae had turned back around now, walking beside Hoseok just ahead of you two. Before long, you had resorted to hopping. It wasn’t efficient.

“Would it be better…” Jimin said, “I mean, I could- I think I should carry you.”

Managing a weak smile, you slowed beside him. Maybe you didn’t have to go far, but it felt like a marathon at the moment.

Eyes creasing in his own smile, Jimin gently let go of your arm and stepped in front of you, crouching to let you put your arms around his neck. Surely he would be able to feel your heart hammering at your ribs, pressed up against his back like this?

If he did, he didn’t let on.

Sliding his arms behind your knees, he scooped you up and you were off at a much more reasonable speed this time.

“Tae!” he yelled.

When the black-haired boy turned around, Jimin tossed him your bag.

By some miracle, you heart had chilled out by the time you entered the doctor’s reception. Maybe a short trip on someone’s back had healing effects in itself.

You were handed an ice pack and some paperwork and told to wait. Taehyung and Hoseok said they would leave you to it, but Jimin assured you he could stay. And who were you to turn him down? This wasn’t coffee.

The silence was companiable as you sat side by side, Jimin sitting forward, elbows on his thighs while you put your feet up on a chair he had dragged over. He didn’t speak until you had nearly finished writing.

“Maybe you could sue the college,” he joked, gently nudging you with his elbow.

Laughing, you signed off the last box quickly before setting the form down and giving him your full attention.

“Thanks for staying, you didn’t have to,” you squeezed out a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, “I’m just glad you’re not more hurt. It was crazy, what happened.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time that’s happened to me,” you admitted. A small laugh brushed by your lips.

At your words, Jimin turned to you fully, bringing his chin off his hands. For a moment he only stared with his eyebrows raised, smile faltering, unsure if you were kidding.

“You’re being serious?”

You grimaced.

“A roof tile fell on you? More than once?”

“What are the chances, right?” you sighed, “But yeah. I’m definitely the most accident-prone person I know.”

“At least you managed to get out of the way… I thought it was going to hit your head or something,” Jimin looked genuinely terrified. You were sure your heart melted as he said this with his big eyes and such sincerity.

“If by getting out of the way you mean falling on my face,” you smiled softly.

Thankfully, he saw the funny side and laughed along with you, shaking his head and sitting back. You were glad the worry had left his face.

Only one other person sat in the waiting room, a mother holding a small baby, who now turned around to glare at the pair of you, although were only laughing quietly. Either way, you both closed your mouths, noticing her child was asleep.

A screaming baby was not something you wanted to add to this situation.

“So… what do you study?” you muttered after the woman turned back around in her chair.

“Protective magic,” Jimin dazzled you again with his smile, “it’s my second year now.”

“Same,” you replied, “well, as in, I’m in second year too, but I’m not gifted. I’m doing literature.”

“With Yoongi, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course you knew that,” you laughed, but you were cringing inside. Time to change topic. “But, umm, what’s your favourite part of your course?”

Magic was definitely fascinating to you, even though you weren’t gifted with powers and therefore were unable to study it. Less than half the population had magic, so it was just your luck to be in the boring majority.

“I’m enjoying studying curses,” Jimin was saying, “last year was mainly the basics, warding and stuff like that, so it’s nice to do something more interesting.”

“It sounds really cool,” you agreed, “I’m so jealous, I didn’t get any of my first-choice modules.”

Just as Jimin opened his mouth to respond, a doctor called your name.

“Ah,” Jimin stood, raising his hand to alert the doctor you were there as you struggled to your feet. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“If that’s okay?”

Gladly accepting his arm for the second time that day, you let Jimin help you over to the doctor and followed her down the hallway to her office. As she checked you over, Jimin sat patiently behind you. Your frequent glances at him were definitely less surreptitious than you intended, but he didn’t seem to mind, smiling reassuringly when you caught his eye.

In the end, she bandaged up the graze and ordered you to avoid using your ankle as much as you could for a couple of days. You had just avoided spraining it, so it would be fine.

“How are you getting home?” she asked you, not looking at you as she typed up her notes.

“Oh, uh-“ you stuttered. You hadn’t thought of that. Walking all the way home would be too far when you could barely make the walk from the waiting room.

“-I’m driving her,” Jimin spoke.

Snapping your mouth shut, you stared round at him.

“Excellent,” the doctor smiled before you could say anything. She spun back to you in her chair, “that should be all. Remember to rest it, I’m sure your friend will help you out.”

Quietly smiling and thanking her, you hobbled out beside Jimin. Outside the door, he lifted you onto his back again for the short walk to the parking lot.

By car, your house was barely ten minutes away, but you chatted some more to Jimin. As he reached your street and you pointed out where he could stop, you were startled by how fast it seemed. You found yourself not wanting him to leave.

Who knew that completely embarrassing yourself in front of your crush could end up to be a good thing?

To your delight, he insisted on piggy-backing you up the stairs as well, somehow not even breaking a sweat, and waited with you at the door as you slid the key in.

“KOOK!” you yelled as you pushed the door open, but to your surprise, he had already left his room and was walking down the hall towards you.

On seeing Jimin next to you, arm around your waist, he stopped abruptly and his eyes widened. But then his eyes travelled down to your leg, bandage poking from the bottom of your jeans, and he relaxed.

“This is Jimin,” you offered, hopping over the threshold as Kook approached again, quick to slide his arm around your other side.

“Hi,” he nodded at Jimin, “thanks.”

Jimin, who let you go as it became clear Kook could take it from here, handed over your bag as well.

“Good to meet you,” he beamed, “see you, Y/N.”

From your position propped up against your roommate, you waved at him. Too soon he was gone, door falling shut behind him.

“is that the Jimin?” Jungkook stage-whispered.

“Yes…” you sighed, hiding your face in his shoulder and ignoring his excited eyes.

“Come on,” you felt the rumble of his laughter through you as he pushed you off him and pulled you down the corridor, “Jin-hyung! Y/N hurt herself again!”

“Kook…” you grumbled in vain.

The moment he dropped you ungracefully onto the sofa, Jin hurried in, already clutching a first aid bag. Seeing his concerned face, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s okay, I already went to the doctor.”

“Aish,” he moaned, “how do you manage to get hurt so much?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you whined, “really.”

You met his eyes as he ditched the medical kit by the sofa. Sighing, he gave you a smile which you returned. You knew he worried too much.

“She was probably distracted,” Jungkook piped up from behind the kitchen counter which divided your space. The warning look you shot him wasn’t enough to quiet him though, you could see the mischievous grin on his face.

“Jeon Jungkook-” you hissed.

“-making doe-eyes at Jim- ow!”

“Y/N!” Jin cried, snatching you and Jungkook’s attention, “give me that.”

Marching across the space, he scooped up the book you had launched at the younger boy and tucked it under his arm. Then a smile slid onto his face, letting the two of you relax. He wasn’t really mad.

“So Jimin?” he grinned.

Shoving a cushion over your face, you groaned, Jin’s laughter loud in your ears.

Yoongi offered to drive you into college before you had even told him you were injured. Jimin must have told him what happened when he got home.

What you didn’t expect was to see your saviour again this early in the morning. You looked a mess in all honesty, hair messy and most lazy clothes shoved on to accommodate your bandaged leg. Sleep hadn’t been on your side last night, and the dream had come again, but until now you didn’t care.

Now, as Jimin gave up shotgun for you with a radiant smile, you regretted your lie in.

“Are you definitely okay to walk?” he eyed you worriedly as you limped over to them.

After the inevitable teasing last night, Jin and Jungkook had cooked for you and let you pick a film so you could keep you leg up with ice. As a result it did feel much better, and you told him as much.

“I’m glad,” Jimin smiled.

You were too busy smiling back to catch Yoongi rolling his eyes.

The room was dark… the old woman was looking at you…

As the fire danced and flickered below her, she spoke to you, but you were still deaf to her words.

Come to think of it, she looked like she was shouting.

Had you upset her?

A hand entered your vision, the woman’s hand, gnarled with age and dappled with firelight.

She was reaching out…

No.

She was pointing at you.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Your whole body jolted as a foot hit your leg. It took a moment for the pain to even register as you blinked, head falling off the hand it rested on.

As you looked up, opening your mouth to complain, your eyes met with Yoongi’s. He had a strange expression on his face.

Frowning, you looked around. The lecture was still going on.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “didn’t sleep well.”

Turning away from Yoongi, you found a group of boys behind you quickly tearing their eyes away. Their snickering whispers followed you even when you turned your back on them. But though you hunched over your work, fully intent on achieving tunnel-vision to your notebook, Yoongi didn’t share your intention.

“Hey,” he murmured, digging his knee into your leg until you acknowledged him. You were greeted with the same piercing stare from before. “You okay?”

Shoulders slumping, you sighed.

“Yeah…”

“You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks Yoongi,” you rolled your eyes at his bluntness, “just tired-“

“You were dreaming,” he informed you.

You blinked.

“Sorry?”

“You were kind of… twitching,” he grimaced, “that’s why they were laughing at you. Was it a nightmare?”

Blankly staring back at him, you tried to recall your dream. Once you were awake, it always left your mind like sand through a sieve, but when you thought about it…

“It’s just a dream I keep having,” you shook your head, “it’s why I couldn’t get much sleep last night.”

His eyebrows creased, but the sudden commotion that rumbled into life around you told you class was over. And you had missed most of it. Just your luck.

Sluggishly, you packed your things away. Just as you slung your bag over one shoulder, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Slipping it out as you pushed your chair in with your thigh, you saw two messages from Yoongi.

Pictures of his lecture notes.

Fondly smiling, you looked to your friend as he shut his book and slid his own things into his bag.

As usual, Yoongi walked with you after classes were done. Except today, when you parted ways, he made you promise to meet him in time to drive home. Usually you would spend longer in the library, but you could easily check out something to work on at home.

Yoongi’s earlier lecture notes mentioned some extra reading, so you decided to go and find the books to make up for being unconscious during the class itself.

Heading towards the classics section once you were inside, you heard Jimin before you saw him.

A loud thump made you wince, evidently the sound of a fallen book. Unable to help your curiosity, you leaned around the corner to the aisle it came from.

There, Jimin’s blond hair was just visible over a mound of books balanced in his arms, some tucked under his elbows, and a couple more trapped between his hip and the bookshelves.

“Jimin?”

You were already striding towards him, hurriedly grabbing for the books in the most precarious position.

“Thank you,” a muffled voice reached your ears as Jimin was finally able to step away from the shelf without fear of dropping any more.

“Um… what are you doing?” you asked incredulously as you hastily shoved the books onto a shelf, soon reaching out to start dismantling the pile in his arms.

“I had spare credits,” he spoke as you removed the books that blocked out his face, “so I’ve ended up taking Mythology of Magic. I thought I should do some reading…”

Laughing, you turned over the book in your hand. Woozle the Warlock and other stories.

“And you didn’t want to be any more selective?”

As you tugged the books from under his arm, Jimin looked down at his shuffling feet.

“I’ve never had to read fiction for my course, so I don’t really know where to start.”

“Well, I took that module last year,” you smiled, “trust me, there are a few books Professor Bang really relies on, but other than that there aren’t too many you should know.”

“Really?”

Jimin’s eyes were so hopeful. His smile had returned, and you were happy you could give him a positive answer.

“Would you like me to help you?” you ventured.

His enthusiastic nod made your heart leap.

“Right, well-“ you turned to the shelves to scan for the books you needed, absently pushing a couple more books onto a random shelf. Jimin followed suit, now having his hands free enough to make use of them.

“Jimin?”

The book you had just laid eyes on was lost as you jumped around, finding one of the librarians at the end of the shelves.

“Joon! Y/N’s gonna help me with Mythology!” Jimin greeted the man enthusiastically, but his eagerness was not returned.

“What’s going on?” the man called Joon asked.

Guiltily glancing at the shelves Jimin had pillaged, it became clear they were nowhere near orderly anymore.

“Jimin, this is going to take me ages, you know I have a date tonight!” Joon was busy complaining.

“Sorry Joon,” Jimin sighed, “do you want me to sort it?”

“Please. I’ll come and check you’re doing it right in a while,” Joon agreed, “Y/N will just have to help you later.”

“Sorry,” you piped up, looking at Jimin, “Yoongi’s giving me a lift home.”

“Then you can come to ours!” Joon startled you by clapping his hands together. He looked thrilled, but you were still confused.

“Ah, sorry Y/N,” Jimin said, “this is Namjoon. He lives with me and Yoongi.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you,” you said.

“You too,” Namjoon smiled, “I best get back to work.”

Before he left, he sent a dimpled smirk over to Jimin.

“Do you want some help?” you asked Jimin, the two of you staring at the mess of books, a couple still lying on the floor.

“No, please go and sit down,” he told you, “the doctor told you to rest.”

He was right, so you gave in.

Later on, you glanced at the clock. You didn’t want to be late for Yoongi when he was being so nice to you. Fifteen minutes were left, luckily, so you turned back to your work.

Next time you checked, fifteen minutes were left.

Wait.

That was the same as last time!

Now you thought about it, it might have said the same time when you checked it before that too.

Oh no.

Scrambling for your phone, you saw you were already more than five minutes late. As quick as humanly possible, you rammed everything into your bag and fled. You still had to check out Jimin’s books, so you dashed across to the machines to take them out.

Toe tapping on the ground, you waited behind the guy already using the last monitor, praying Yoongi wouldn’t be mad. You decided to send him a quick text.

You: On my way, sorry :)

Yoongi: Be quick

Just then, the man in front of you turned around, setting off briskly away from the station with coffee in hand. There was only one problem. You were in the way.

He crashed into you before you had even looked up, and warm liquid was already seeping through your top.

In your shock, your phone fell from your hand, straight into the puddle of coffee on the floor. Both of you just stood there for a second, mouths agape.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you garbled, at the same moment as he pushed past you, muttering something about standing in the way. Perfect.

Looking down at the bundle of books in your arms, it was clear they were ruined. Coffee was dripping off them, the edges of the pages already brown. Taking a breath, you bent down to retrieve your phone, not bothering to check it just yet. You had to get to Yoongi first.

In the end, you checked the books out anyway, knowing you might be able to tell your tragic tale to your new acquaintance Namjoon, thinking perhaps he could get you out of a fine.

Stepping outside, you were soon greeted with Jimin coming around the corner.

“Y/N! Yoongi sent me to go and fetch you- what happened?” he had stopped in his tracks. You didn’t have to be a genius to know your top was ruined, coffee clinging uncomfortably to your skin from the saturated fabric.

“Some guy spilled coffee on me,” you explained, carrying on towards the parking lot, “and my phone, and the books…”

Looking to the side to check he was following, you jumped. Jimin’s head had disappeared into his sweater as he pulled it over his head, shirt riding up as he did so. When he emerged you snapped your head away.

You tried to reject the hoodie as he held it out to you, knowing you would soak it through with coffee as well, but he insisted. It was black after all, it wouldn’t show up, and people were staring at you. Since you usually left campus later, it was busier than you were accustomed to.

Eventually taking the proffered jumper, you basked in its softness, thanking him with a smile.

Since you went home to study with Jimin, Jungkook and Jin had been insufferable, knowing about your crush. You told them they were lucky you loved them already, or you would kick them out.

Not if they kicked you out first, they said.

You laughed and told them you could just move in with Jimin. Needless to say, that made it worse.

In all fairness, you spent a lot of time with Jimin now. You regretted being too scared to ever talk to him before, since you actually got on really well. Helping him study had been fun, and you had been over more times since then, for studying but also for dinner and movie nights that Namjoon and Yoongi loved to crash.

You discovered all of them wanted to go to the Halloween festival, just like you.

October was halfway done, and that meant the excitement was well and truly underway. Every year on the weekend of Halloween, there was a festival just outside the city with music, haunted houses, campfires and ghost stories. And, of course, plenty of beer. Everyone wanted to go.

That week, you sat down with your own flatmates to put your names in for the festival. Due to its popularity among students, the festival always picked its attendees at random.

Since things were going well with Jimin, you had shed your pessimistic mindset a little. Maybe things didn’t always go wrong when you were around.

But then you didn’t get tickets.

And of course, Jungkook and Jin did.

You were more disappointed than you were when the same thing happened last year. For once, you had actually had your hopes up.

At least they were as sad about it as you. And it meant they went out on a dedicated shopping trip to get you a load of candy; it made both parties feel a bit better about you being left alone at the weekend.

When you had last spoken to Jimin about the festival, you found out he had gone last year. The next time you saw him after the bad news came at the weekend, you walked into uni to find him alone at the table you usually shared with Yoongi.

“Hey,” he smiled, “Yoongi’s just getting coffee.”

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. You were quite happy to have Jimin to yourself for the moment.

It was only when Yoongi came back with two coffees that you sensed something was up. He never bought coffee for other people. Eyebrows furrowed, you watched as he set one down in front of Jimin.

Eager to take a sip, neither boy noticed you staring at them with something akin to horror until they rose from the rims of their cups.

“What’s going on?” you demanded when you caught Jimin’s eye.

“Sympathy coffee,” Jimin chuckled, “I didn’t get Halloween tickets.”

“Oh no, that sucks,” you sighed, “I didn’t either.”

“Hey, that could be good!” Jimin placed his drink down, “we could do something on Halloween instead?”

“Okay!” you agreed, “movies or something?”

“Great, let’s do it,” Jimin grinned, “beats sitting inside getting jealous of Joon and Yoongi.”

And so it was agreed, and you found yourself walking over to Jimin’s house on Halloween. Any other Saturday night, the city’s streets would be thrumming with life, groups of students holding each other up as they stumbled out, already drunk.

Today, though, it seemed like the entire student population was on the other side of town except you.

Mind wandering to your friends, you wondered how the festival was. Next year was your final chance to go. You hoped you could. They would probably be trekking through the horror maze, before dark so Jin wouldn’t get too scared. Or maybe Jungkook had got out his guitar for the campfire circle. You wondered what kinds of sugary food they would fill themselves with.

It was a nice evening for whatever was going on, being unusually warm for this time of year. You hadn’t even needed a coat to go out.

Jin’s cooking was sorely missed especially; you were something of a disaster on your own given your clumsiness. You swore you did exactly what the recipe said, but every time without fail, something went wrong.

Reaching Jimin’s, you happily let thoughts of what you were missing slide. Your bad luck had afforded you good fortune this time around, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Inside, you emptied all the snacks you had brought out of your bag and stared at the mountain you had collectively built on the coffee table.

“I guess we had better get started,” you laughed.

“We’re never going to eat all that!” Jimin laughed, flopping down on the sofa.

Sitting as well, you picked up your first chocolate and sent him a smirk.

“Challenge accepted.”

As anyone could have predicted, you failed the challenge. Before the first film had even ended, you slumped against Jimin with a groan, stomach threatening to burst. His melodic laugh filled your ears. You only groaned more, staring at the empty wrappers surrounding you before closing your eyes.

What you didn’t expect was for Jimin to reach his arm around you.

Eyes snapping open again, you saw his hands pulling your blanket up, but his arm didn’t move away. Well, perhaps your optimistic eating habits had landed you something good, after all.

The film ended, but you didn’t move away. Nor did he push you off.

“What next?” he looked down at you.

You found yourself a lot closer to his face than you were prepared for when you looked up at him, head pulling away from its place on his shoulder.

“Horror film?” you suggested with a small smile once you had recovered.

He threw his head back and laughed, but he did pick up the remote and start scrolling through the horror films.

“This should be fun,” he smiled, shaking his head slightly.

It was.

Well, maybe not the ghosts and blood and murderers and jumpscares.

But it sure was fun when Jimin clutched you in both of his arms, or when you pressed closer to him to hide your face away in his chest. When he screamed and grabbed at you, hiding his face away in the top of your head, you swore your heart stopped for a moment.

“We are not watching a horror film next time,” Jimin decreed afterwards, “or ever again!”

“Next Halloween?” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes.

“Maybe.”

Your grin wasn’t because he agreed with you. It was because he thought you would be with each other again next Halloween.

Reluctantly, the two of you untangled yourselves from the blankets. On your way out, you told him to keep the candy, and that you could never look at another one again.

“Sure,” he smirked, “text me when you get home okay.”

“Will do, thanks.”

After a beat, you stepped back through the doorway and gave him a quick hug. Wrapping his arms around you in return, he laughed.

“Don’t have nightmares!”

“No promises!” you laughed, waving at him as you walked away.

By this time it was dark, but your route back was along main roads, so you weren’t worried. However, you had barely reached the end of Jimin’s road before you felt flecks of drizzle dotting your face.

You picked up the pace, but there was still a while to go. You were never going to outrun the rain.

It wasn’t the first time you had been caught out by a storm, but it made it no more enjoyable. Halfway home, the rain was hammering down, stinging your cheeks with the force it fell. The sky above was a solid mass of cloud, regularly disturbed by thunder.

You were most certainly alone on the streets now, everyone having retreated inside. You just had to push on a little longer, and then you could have a hot shower and warm up in your pyjamas with a hot chocolate.

Cursing yourself for not bringing a coat earlier, you hugged yourself as you marched against the rain which was now dripping down your face, hair plastered to your cheeks.

On reaching your apartment, you broke into a run. Stopping outside the door, you fished for your keys in your pocket.

Nothing.

Chest tightening, you quickly pushed your hand into your other pocket. Your phone was still there, but no keys. Quickly, you patted your jeans to no success. Your bag was just as empty. Where were your keys?

Ever since the coffee incident in the library, your phone had never been quite the same, but you nearly cried in relief when you clicked the power button and it flashed on.

Leaning your head over to shield it from the worst of the rain, although you were also dripping onto it, your cold fingers fumbled to your contacts until you reached Jimin. No one else you knew was in the city.

Pressing call, you held the device to your ear, dial tone beeping over the drumming of the rain.

The tone cut off, and you waited to hear Jimin’s voice.

But it didn’t come.

“Hello?” you spoke.

No reply.

On pulling the phone from your ear, you stared at a dark screen. This time, when you pressed the power button, it was unresponsive.

Great.

Begrudgingly turning around, you sighed heavily. You fingers were already draining themselves of feeling, every inch of your jumper soaked.

But then, a couple of streets further, you spotted something glittering by the pavement. Your keyring!

Dashing towards it, you didn’t care when your fingers scraped against the cold metal of a drain, grabbing your keys as soon as you could. But when you held them up, you could only stare.

You were definitely the unluckiest person you knew.

The keyring charm itself was intact, but the same could not be said for the mangled metal that hung off it, which had been snapped. No key remained.

Looking back to the ground where you had collected it, you could only see dark tarmac. No key. And below the drain your keyring had been lying on was a torrent of rushing water from the storm.

You were well and truly fucked, only one option left.

Your third journey that night down the roads to Jimin’s was significantly less enjoyable than before. Even your shoes were soaked now and you were shivering from head to toe. It really wasn’t the way you wanted Jimin to see you, looking like a rat that had crawled up from the gutter, but you had nowhere else to go.

Finally reaching Jimin’s road, you were surprised to see his door fly open when you were still halfway down the street, spilling yellow light into the dark. You frowned even more when you saw him step out, wrapped in a raincoat, practically tripping down his own steps before looking around.

Closer now, you were able to catch his attention as you approached. He only stared at you, his adorable face the very picture of shock, before he ran up to you.

“Y/N oh my god! The moment this storm started I got worried, and when I saw a missed call from you I didn’t know what to do! What happened? Are you alright?”

“C-cold,” you said through chattering teeth.

“Shit, yeah, let’s get you back inside,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. If only you could feel where his hand held yours.

Just across the threshold, you held back, knowing you were already soaking the ground.

“Y/N, you’re freezing, please come in,” Jimin pulled you into the living room, not that you could resist when you felt the warmth of his house greet you.

Realising you hadn’t even removed your shoes, you bent to undo your waterlogged laces, but your fingers were uncooperative.

“Here,” Jimin knelt too. You watched as his fingers deftly released your laces, and you let him slide your shoes off. His face was flushed, slightly damp too from his short trip outside.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, sitting back and reaching for you jumper.

Together, you peeled the garment off you, heavy with water.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he said firmly, “you’re staying here.”

Beyond the window, the rain had not let up.

“Okay.”

Making quick work of the rest of your clothes in the bathroom, you left them in a pile on the shower floor. Jimin had luckily left a towel on the radiator. Wrapped up in the warm fluff, you barely wanted to move, but eventually Jimin’s clothes, folded on the floor, tempted you enough.

Emerging fully dressed in the too-big clothes, you found Jimin stumbling down the stairs. Or rather, a moving pile of blankets.

“Any better?” his eyes peeked over the top, making it impossible for you not to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Following him into the living room, you stepped over the wet patches you had created as Jimin dropped the blankets onto the sofa.

“So what happened?” he clambered into the makeshift nest, patting the blankets beside him for you to follow suit.

“My keys found their way down a storm drain,” you sighed, “but I didn’t notice until I got home. And then my phone gave up.”

You let out a dry laugh. It really was ridiculous how the world seemed to be against you.

“Would hot chocolate make it better?”

Your eyes and mouth grew simultaneously and Jimin laughed loudly, head flopping back and soft hair falling away from his face. Anyone would have thought he had just given you a bag of lottery winnings by the way you looked at him.

“Yes, I take it?” he giggled.

Maybe the world was against you, but Jimin was the one thing that made everything better. Sitting next to him surrounded by blankets and sipping cocoa could only be made better if you weren’t just sitting next to him.

As if to prove his place as your personal saviour, Jimin soon snuggled closer to you.

After a few minutes of his head on your shoulder, your arm around him, you whispered into his hair.

“Maybe tonight was lucky in the end.”

“Hmm?” he twisted to look at you and your heart softened even more when you saw his eyes were barely open. Smiling giddily, you pulled back to look at him.

“I just always thought bad things happened to me. But it’s not so bad ending up here with you.”

A hand scrubbed over his face in an effort to wake up a little more. Embarrassment already began to encroach as you watched his mouth opening and closing. Had you said too much?

And then he shuffled closer, all those thoughts dissipating like dandelion seeds as his hand brushed your cheek. His lips lay in a peaceful smile, and you couldn’t take your eyes away as he silently shuffled closer.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sound barely leaving your mouth.

Then his lips met yours.

It wasn’t forceful, quite the opposite. The kind of kiss that made you lean in for more, sweet and lingering, erasing any memory of what existed outside of it. Now his soft touch felt so real, so present and so… Jimin.

Hands ghosted across skin, hungry but tentative.

Time got lost around you as you gave in, indulging in each other until you lay on top of him, breathless as you paused. His eyes were smiling. He was always smiling.

Unable to believe Park Jimin kissed you, wanted you too, you stared at him, trying to soak it all in.

Another laugh passed his lips, joy overflowing. His arms tightened around your waist, squeezing you tightly against his chest, and a kiss was pressed to your forehead.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You had to look back at his face then, just to check those words had actually passed his lips.

“Yes!”

The room was familiar, even though it was dark. Nothing could be seen but you knew you had been here before.

The woman had not moved. Was she still angry?

For the first time, the fire shows itself as more than just a glimmer lighting the wisened face. No, it is there, bright and dancing.

Taunting.

You can’t look away but it burns your eyes. That is not all it burns.

The woman’s hand reaches out, engulfed in the fire, and suddenly your silence bursts.

The fire is deafening, cracking like a monster walking on bones, roaring in its pain. Maybe the darkness is the smoke. It gets in your eyes, but you still can’t look away, can’t blink, and beyond the red beast, the woman in still there, voice finally loud and strong, surfacing in the brief moments through the blazing fire.

You can’t understand her.

But you understand she is not a friend. You know from the way her hand rises from the fire unscathed. She must be a friend to the fire, but the fire is hurting you.

You can’t move.

You can’t look away.

Smoke is in your lungs, fire clings to your skin.

You can’t scream but you need to, you need to get out of here, but no one knows you’re here, you don’t even know where here is, or how you got here, but it hurts, and she only wants to hurt you more, and-

Someone is shouting but it’s not her this time and it cuts through the fire. Then it stops and you fall back, darkness and blinding fire side by side-

“Y/N!”

Hands on your shoulder. The room is dark. Where is the smoke? Breath judders in and out of your throat. You cough. The hands draw back. The fire is gone too.

A dim light flicks on and Jimin looks at you. Propped on his elbow, he looks down at you where you lie on the pillow, other hand coming up to stroke down your face. You were used to waking up like this, alone, but now he was there and all you wanted was his warmth.

When you dived towards him, he folded you in his arms, holding you close as you breathed in his safety.

“You okay?” he spoke into the stillness.

At first, you nodded into his chest. Then you thought he might want a bit more detail about why you had woken him in the middle of the night, so you lifted your head. Nose-to-nose on the pillow, you explained.

“It’s this dream I keep having,” you whispered, “I always forget about it after, but it keeps coming back. It was… different, today.”

“What happens in the dream?” a delicate crease formed between Jimin eyebrows.

“I’m in a dark room…” your eyes wandered to the air by his ear as you tried to picture it, “there’s this woman there. And she’s always saying something, but I can never hear. And there’s a fire. Today she made the fire grow, and I could hear her for once, but I still didn’t understand what she was saying.”

“Strange…” he murmured.

“I know,” you sighed, shuffling closer to him under the duvet, “but let’s go back to sleep.”

“Not until I kiss you better,” he smirked, voice still husky with sleep as he rolled you over and planted more perfect kisses to your lips.

Quickly circling your arms and legs around him, you eagerly reciprocated. Your bodies fit together so well, both defying sleep as the kisses continued between your smiling mouths until the dream was well and truly gone from your mind.

In the morning, your phone seemed to have resurrected itself from where it was charging at the wall, and it decided to announce this loudly to Jimin’s entire apartment. Both stirring at the same time when the ringtone blasted across the room, you extricated yourselves from each other.

Jimin reached across for his own phone, groaning when he saw that it was already eleven and promptly flopping back onto the bed. You, on the other hand, abandoned the comfort of the warm bed in favour of making whoever was calling shut up.

However, just as you reached your phone, it fell silent anyway.

Opening it and scrolling through the notifications, you found it was Jungkook who had phoned. You had used Jimin’s phone to text them in the end yesterday, and they said they would come back from the festival early to let you in, so you supposed he was back.

Taking it off charge, you opened Jungkook’s messages, of which there were several from last night.

Before you could read them, though, Jimin’s ringtone started up. Looking up, you admired his muscular back as he twisted to pick it up.

“It’s Jin,” he frowned, looking to you.

Sitting back on the bed, you just shrugged.

“Hello?” Jimin greeted.

He was leaning back on one arm, but as he listened to whatever Jin was saying, he sat forwards, face growing serious.

“O-okay, yeah,” he said.

Startling you, he pushed the covers aside and pulled his wardrobe open, one hand still occupied with the phone. When he had pulled out a random pair of jeans and a shirt, he turned to you. He crossed the room rapidly, holding out the phone for you to take.

You stared between his face and the phone, then shook yourself and hurriedly took it.

“Jin?”

“Y/N, we just got back… I think you should probably come here.”

“Okay, we can come soon, what’s going on?”

“Um, well…” for a moment your heart froze as he paused, fearing what might be wrong. Jungkook could be heard faintly in the background.

“Are you still there? Jin?”

“There was a fire.”

Now it was your turn to be silent. You were aware that your boyfriend was undressing right behind you, but all you could do was sit still.

“What?” you choked.

“Listen, don’t worry, it’s going to be okay-“

“How bad?”

Another pause from Jin, and you knew he didn’t want to say.

“Most of the apartment is fine, it’s just your room…” you heard the soft creak of your sofa as he sat heavily, “just come here, okay? We’ll sort something out.”

“Y-yeah. See you soon.”

Shakily, you stood. Jimin was fully dressed, car keys already in hand.

It was exactly like Jin had said, but that still didn’t make it any better.

You knocked on the door, greeted with a lingering hug from Jin. He always gave those kind of hugs, like he was trying to hold you together with his own arms. From the outside, your place looked the same, but you could already see black streaks on the wall as you looked down the corridor, where Jungkook nervously licked and bit his lip alternately.

Yoongi and Namjoon were also there, trying very hard to blend into the wall. They took the first chance they could to join Jimin by the door as you stepped past them all towards your room.

Black seeped around the edges of your door. You felt numb as you pushed against it, swinging it open to reveal an unrecognisable space. Everything was completely ravaged by the fire, curtains hanging from the pole in rags, dark debris covering the floor and furniture stained darker than it was ever meant to be.

Your feet disturbed the dust of what was once yours, carrying you further into the wreckage.

Until a hand landed on your shoulder, you simply stood, paralysed. But then Jimin was next to you and you broke into his arms.

“The firefighters were here this morning when we got back,” Jin said, “they told us a candle set fire to your curtain and it started from there.”

You nodded.

That’s all you had been doing for a while since the lot of you had camped out in the living room back at Jimin’s. You had been huddled against him ever since as your flatmates made calls to the landlord, insurance, repair services and so on.

It wasn’t too severely damaged.

That’s what the general consensus was, and you could go back to living there after a couple of days unless any complications were found as they cleaned up the house. But for you, it was different. It was your stuff that had burned.

Even the photos in the hallway that burned, the only victims of the flames that had escaped your room, were all of you. For the thousandth time, you questioned if someone out there really hated you so much.

At least your friends didn’t.

They hadn’t expected anything of you, letting you stay silent and sorting everything out. Now that all anyone could do was wait, a lazy day was declared and the blankets made a return appearance.

Jimin invited his friends Tae and Hoseok, who were apparently also friends with his flatmates, and Jin went shopping with Namjoon, insisting on cooking later.

You had to admit, being surrounded by Jimin and your friends did lift your spirits. Taehyung and Jungkook had instantly hit it off, goofing around as crap TV played in the background. All the sweets you had failed to eat the night before came in especially useful for such a big group.

Jin’s food was excellent as always, and you had recovered enough by dinner time to notice something different about your friend.

“Did you see my messages last night?” Jungkook whispered, digging his elbow into you. You squealed, but he shushed you, looking around at the others.

It was getting dark, and you had all piled together for a film (not horror).

When the others’ eyes left you, you glared at your youngest friend.

“I didn’t. What is it?”

Beside you, Jimin’s arm tightened around your waist as he leaned forwards, resting his chin on your shoulder to hear Jungkook too.

“Yeah Kook, what is it?” he chuckled.

“Jin-hyung was on date!” Kook’s big eyes sparkled with excitement as you sat forward with a start, evicting Jimin from his spot on your shoulder.

“What?!” you whisper-shouted.

“I know!”

Spluttering for something to say, you grabbed Kook’s hands as you both bounced up and down on the sofa, Jimin hiding laughter behind his hand at the two of you.

“Who was it? How did you find out? Did he like them? Ohmygod!” you rambled.

Jungkook laughed, but supressed it quickly, smile full to bursting as he leaned forwards, barely containing himself.

“Namjoon-hyung,” he whispered.

Now Jimin’s eyes bulged from his head along with you.

“Oh my god.”

Satisfied with your reactions, Jungkook giggled as you and Jimin exchanged looks.

“Hush, you lot. And I would be careful – Jin and I are not the only ones who seem to have got up to something this weekend.”

Three pairs of wide eyes turned towards Namjoon, who was right beside Jungkook. He simply snorted a laugh, dimples making an appearance as he turned back to the film without another word.

You stayed quiet after that.

Jimin had to admit, your pessimism seemed to be justified.

From a roof tile falling on you, people spilling coffee on you, your keys vanishing mysteriously on the very night your apartment caught fire, unlucky would be an understatement. Now he sat in the library, mind drifting back to all the time he had known you.

The first time you had come round to study, he remembered staring in surprise at all your memory sticks. You kept so many on you, as well as saving your work onto enough clouds to make a storm, on top of keeping notes on paper.

Perhaps you weren’t just disorganised as you claimed. In fact, you seemed extremely organised, but you insisted your documents went missing all the time.

He placed down another book on the growing pile beside him, pulling the next one out.

When he had taken you back to your room after the fire, he sadly placed a row of charred pot plants in a bin bag. They were all dead anyway, you had said, I can never keep them alive.

Yoongi had come to the library too, under the guise of studying. If studying consisted of forcing Namjoon to let him into the staff room for unlimited coffee, then he was being very productive.

But when Jimin confessed his fears, Yoongi had also told him about you dreaming in class.

Only a few passing paragraphs had struck him as relevant so far in his quest for research, and the sky was already dimming outside. Only a couple more books sat on his left side, the books he hadn’t read yet. Sighing in defeat, he placed yet another book across to the right and pulled the largest tome yet over to him.

This one didn’t look like it had been touched in years, leather binding groaning as he heaved it open, coughing at the dust that spewed from its pages. But finally, he saw something promising in the contents.

Turning the yellowed pages, he reached his destination, instantly knowing from the illustrations that this was it. A full moon, just like the one outside the library window. A wilted plant. A spider-web of swirling black smoke.

Eyes devouring the words on the page, he eventually sat back. For a moment, he looked at the thin air in front of him, swallowing hard.

Then he sprung into action, pulling out his phone and snapping photos of the book. It shut heavily in another cloud of dust, and then it was away on the shelf and Jimin’s thumb was hovering over your contact as he rushed to his flatmates at the desk.

“I’ve found it!”

Namjoon mumbled something that sounded a lot like finally as Yoongi turned away from him towards Jimin. He was already calling you, wanting to meet up to share his findings.

The ringtone stopped, and he opened his mouth to greet you, only for your voicemail to speak first.

Brow creasing, he pulled his phone away and hung up, pressing call again.

Nothing.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, but Jimin was looking past him. The moon hung so innocently in the sky, but Jimin’s veins were turning to ice.

“We have to go. Now.”

The week following such an eventful Halloween had been a blur. You were pretty sure tonight was the first time you had been alone since that night.

Jungkook was at home with his family for his brother’s birthday, Jin working late at the restaurant.

Jimin had been working in the library all day with his flatmates too, leaving you at your newly repaired house all by yourself. As per a yearly tradition, Jin had salvaged some pumpkins from his work that were due to be thrown out when pumpkin pie left the menu, but you were the only one around to carve them at the moment.

But you were bored. And there were plenty, too many if you were honest, and you were always terrible, so it wouldn’t hurt to practise before Jimin had to witness your shocking pumpkin art skills.

And this was how you ended up in the middle of a storm of pumpkin innards in your kitchen, wonky face leering from the unfortunate vegetable behind you as you looked around at the mess.

Having already slipped over once on the orange goo, you decided cleaning up took priority over improving your artistry. Setting the knife down, you bent down and scooped up the largest clump, a few seeds falling from your hands as you shuffled over to the bin on your knees.

Pushing your hair behind your ear and leaving a sticky orange clump while you were at it, you leaned across to another patch, right at the base of the counter.

But as you stretched out your fingers, a shape fell down your vision. Before you could even blink, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your arm as metal clattered to the tile.

Recoiling, you were met with bright red. The knife that had leapt from the side was the sharpest one in the kitchen, Jin’s pride and joy. Where it had hit your arm, aided by gravity, it had easily sliced into your skin which now spewed blood at an alarming rate as you jumped up, eyes glued to the injury.

Bandages. Clean it. Stop the blood.

Minor first aid had been drilled into your head since you were younger, given all the scrapes and bruises you accumulated. But now, as red spattered onto your kitchen floor, you couldn’t seem to remember the order to do things.

Where were the bandages anyway?

No, clean it. Yes.

Ripping your eyes away, you clutched the edge of the sink as you stuck your arm under running water. It burned like fire into your cut.

Snatching your arm back, you watched the pale red splash up the edges of the sink, now falling onto the counter too. Shit. Clamping your other hand over the injury, you squeezed it and hissed in pain just as the room wobbled around you.

Scratch all this. You needed to lie down.

Eyes set on the sofa, you stepped towards it, but you never made it that far.

In the brightness of the room, only one face is visible. A woman with age-worn skin is looking at you.

She is talking.

Fire blazes all around her, throwing her face into light, nearly erasing the wrinkles that cling to her.

She is louder than the fire, words you do not recognise spilling from her lips. You’ve heard this kind of thing before, though, and you know she is gifted. Her words carry the distinct sound of the language of magic.

Though you do not understand it, you know she is not a friend.

But her words change.

Within the hostile words, there is one you know. A name.

But it isn’t yours. Why are you here if she wants Eunji? Eunji is your grandmother’s name.

Before you can ask, the fire stops burning. Silence returns.

In the darkness of the room, only one face is visible. She is lit by moonlight.

“Why are we in such a hurry anyway?” Yoongi eyed his friend in the passenger seat as he chewed his lip, looking back at his phone for the third time in a minute.

“Something bad might have happened.”

Resurfacing from his blank phone screen, Jimin watched the light turn to green, relieved when Yoongi pulled away much too fast.

When they pulled up outside your building, Jimin had already thrown his seatbelt off, jumping out before Yoongi had even turned the car off. Frowning, he followed his friend as he ran to the door, nearly beating it down with the force of his knocks.

No one answered.

He had thought you could be just napping, missing the phone calls. Letting your phone die was a special talent of yours, anyway.

But no one could sleep through the racket Jimin was making.

Joining Jimin at the door, he looked around. Since you had been locked out, Jin had given in and had a spare key made to ‘save you from yourself’. Picking up a pot plant from the doorstep, Yoongi revealed the key, which Jimin instantly dived for.

“Y/N?” Jimin was running up the hallway.

Yoongi heard him gasp before he had reached the corner himself, but it made him speed up.

It was a good thing Jimin had panicked. Because there you were, out cold on the kitchen floor, blood flowing from your arm and a knife stained red lying nearby.

Yoongi already had his phone to his ear as Jimin crashed to his knees next to you, crying out your name and pulling you onto his knees. No response came. Looking wildly around him, he grabbed for a towel, rolling it up and pressing it into your arm where the blood still seeped out.

He barely heard Yoongi talking behind him as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, free hand cupping your face, running his thumb shakily across your cheekbone.

The paramedics didn’t arrive for too long. Then he blinked and they were everywhere, hands pulling him back away from you. You got lost in the water warping his vision.

But you would be okay.

That was what they said, but he could barely believe it when he walked into your hospital room at last, greeted with your eyes, awake and alive. Your sheepish smile, embarrassed at another mishap.

It felt like air had entered his lungs for the first time since it all left him when he had seen you on the floor some hours ago.

“Thank god,” he choked when his face was finally pressed into your hair, arms holding so tight you weren’t sure you would ever escape. Not that you would complain about that.

His lips found yours desperately, telling you how much he cared, how much he worried. Eyes fluttering shut, you returned the embrace, reveling in the feeling.

A cough startled you apart.

“Get a room,” Jin complained. It didn’t quite have the same effect when his smile wouldn’t leave his face.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we are in a room,” you retorted.

Nonetheless, Jimin stepped back and let Jin hug you. Yoongi followed not far behind with a carrier of coffee for everyone. Jungkook had already called you, just before they all arrived, promising bucketloads of junk food when he came back.

“I thought I banned you from my good knives,” Jin fixed you with a stare as he sat down.

You avoided his gaze.

“The others weren’t strong enough for the pumpkin,” you muttered, aware of how stupid it sounded.

He just sighed.

“I’m just glad Jimin turned up when he did,” Jin squeezed Jimin’s knee, “how did you know to come anyway?”

“Well…” Jimin shuffled in his seat, “I sort of found something out…”

Looking to the other occupants in the room, you found their gazes just as blank as yours.

“What do you mean?”

Tugging his chair a little closer, Jimin reached out for your hand, enclosing it in his.

“I was doing some research. We all know you’re clumsy, unlucky and bad things happen to you a lot-“

“Thanks Jimin,” you said drily, eyebrows climbing your face.

“No, no! I still l- you know what I mean,” he sighed after you burst out laughing at his panic, “no, but seriously Y/N, I don’t think it’s a coincidence. I study curses, and all the signs are there. Dreams, bad luck, unlikely accidents. I found a book, there was this illustration about a particular curse, it matched the scorch marks from the fire at your place exactly. It’s an old curse, elders used it to wish ill fortune on a family line, and it relies on moon magic. And tonight was a full moon, and this happened, so…”

Staring back at your boyfriend, you were glad for the grounding presence of his hand. You hadn’t understood all of what he said, not knowing anything about magic yourself, but it was clear what he thought.

You were cursed.

“But-but my family aren’t cursed,” you spoke quietly, “you said it was a family curse-”

“A family line curse,” he explained, “it only affects one person, but it’s a curse bestowed on someone else in your family. Sometimes people want to hurt a loved one of the one they curse, not the enemy themselves.”

“That’s horrible,” you whispered.

“I know,” Jimin said, “and that’s why we need to break it. I’m sure I’m right about this, it all fits. I can show you the book I found, if you want.”

Nodding, you looked at your lap.

“How do we break it?”

“That’s a little more tricky…” Jimin admitted, pushing a hand through his hair, “we need to find out who cast it in the first place. That way we can unwork exactly what was done, since it’s a highly personal curse.”

“My grandma,” you muttered.

“Sorry?”

“I think it was my grandma.”

You eyes met Jimin’s. Greeted with his full attention, you took a breath and elaborated.

“I had another dream… or, at least, I think it was a dream. It was while I was passed out. It was the same as before, but, well, it was quite different actually. But the woman, she definitely said my grandma’s name.”

“Then you’re probably right,” Jimin squeezed your hand, “shall we give her a call?”

As the dial tone bleeped in your ear, you looked around at your friends. Although Yoongi had dozed off in his chair, Jin was giving you an encouraging smile. When your eyes met, he gave you a thumbs up. Grinning, you leaned back into Jimin’s arms where he sat on the bed behind you.

“Hello?” your grandpa’s voice finally greeted you.

“Oh, hi, grandpa, it’s me,” you smiled.

“Hello sweetie! How are you?” he asked, “your dad told us you had an accident today.”

“Yes, I’m fine thank you. I was wondering if I could talk to grandma?”

“Ah, sorry love, she’s out at the moment. Bad luck.”

Not funny grandpa. Bad luck was the exact thing you were trying to shake off.

“Okay,” you sighed, “maybe she could phone me when she gets back?”

“Hold on,” your grandpa’s voice grew more distant. In the distance, a door clicked. “I think that’s her now. I’ll get her.”

Suddenly, his yell of ‘EUNJIII!’ made you jump, hurriedly jerking away from your phone.

“Hello dear?” your grandma’s voice crackled across and you deemed it safe to return the device to your ear.

“Hi grandma. I have something I have to ask you.”

“Of course,” you could practically hear her smiling, but you felt yourself growing hot. How were you meant to breach such a subject?

“Um, were you ever, I mean, how-“ a deep breath, “are you cursed?”

Wow. Real tactful, you scolded yourself mentally.

“Oh!” you grandma laughed on the other line, “I see, dear. Any reason you’re asking.”

“Um, just, that, maybe, I might be sort of… cursed, too,” you winced.

“I mean, you are quite unlucky…” she gave an awkward laugh, but offered nothing more.

“Grandma,” you begged, “please tell me.”

She sighed.

“Okay. Yes, I was cursed. I never believed it though, but ever since you came along, I started to see the truth. Your grandpa knows all this too, but I never thought it would be so bad.”

“But we can break it grandma,” you encouraged, “it can be broken if we know why it was cast in the first place.”

“You can really break it?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“I’m so sorry, I never knew anything about all this magic, I just thought… well, I can tell you what happened.

“Y/N, the thing is... I’m bisexual. And when I was your age, I had a girlfriend. When her mother found out, she was very angry. Back then, people weren’t accepting like they are now, and she wouldn’t tolerate us being together. They were from a community of magic and she blamed me for ‘leading her daughter astray’, and tried to curse me, saying I would feel her pain when I had a daughter of my own.”

“Oh,” you breathed. That made sense. Your grandma only had one child, your father. So… “I’m the next daughter in the family.”

“Yes, my dear,” your grandma sighed, “so you see why I never believed her. She was just a hateful old woman, and when your dad was fine, I thought the curse wasn’t real. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s okay, grandma,” you told her, “I still love you very much. We will break it. Thank you for telling me.”

Magic in real life was nothing like what you had seen on TV. Well, you were doing a different kind, you supposed.

Jimin had a massive book on the floor in front of him, a row of dried plants beside him. Eyeing them, you took deep breaths. Jimin’s explanation hadn’t really made sense to you, so you just planned to go with whatever the process was.

You had understood one thing, however.

“Homophobic piece of shit curse,” you grumbled, picking aggressively at the floorboards. “This would be so much better if I had to kiss a girl, just to stick it to that woman.”

Smile tugging at his lips, Jimin looked up at you.

“Do you not want to kiss me?”

“Of course I want to kiss you, idiot,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m just saying.”

Chuckling, Jimin bent back over his book.

“Well, I think we’re ready. Then you never have to kiss me again.”

“No, Jimin!” you gasped, “I want to kiss you plenty!”

“Come here then,” he laughed.

Giggling, you walked to him and knelt in front of him, returning to the gorgeous familiarity of his kiss, his hands tantalising on your waist.

“Okay,” he panted, eventually drawing back, “that was a good practise. Time to do it for real. Are you ready?”

Nodding, you climbed off him and sat, mirroring his position cross-legged on the floor. At his reassuring smile, you closed your eyes.

You felt his soft palm rest on your forehead, and he murmured something. Though it was incomprehensible to you, it did stir something in you. Though your eyes were closed, your retinas seemed flooded with golden light, while something churned low in your stomach.

The hand stayed in place as the scent of lavender engulfed you, one of the plants Jimin had prepared. He spoke again.

Suddenly, the light flashed and disappeared, the world sinking into darkness.

One face is visible.

You know her, you have been here before, and she is still talking.

But now the smoke in the room is visible, light grey tendrils rising from burning lavender. There is no fire. The woman’s voice changes then.

The language of magic continues, but Jimin’s voice is sounding through the room, and another smell meets you, a herb you do not know.

You stay there for a while. Although you do not move, you are sure you could if you wanted. You aren’t in danger here anymore.

Her hand raises. She has done that before, but this time there is no threat. You are sure of it. You know it from the way light pools in her palm, warm, innocent, inviting.

You cannot look away.

Maybe you are floating. Something is pulling at you, and suddenly you gasp, tasting the herbs in the air. It feels like something is moving inside you. You clutch your chest, feeling something curling around your heart, fighting, and then it is rising and you are choking on it.

Maybe you are dying.

Gasping and spluttering, you find no air. But something finds you. A kiss like home, sweet against your lips, and when they pull away, air spills in.

A whisper by your ears, so close the breath moves your hair.

“Open your eyes.”

The room is light, and one face is visible. Jimin smiles.

“It worked!”

Tackling your boyfriend to the floor in a hug, you press your face into his chest. You couldn’t believe it. It was really gone!

“How do you feel?” he laughed.

“Great! Amazing! Perfect!” you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, “I could do anything! I can have plants without killing them now, right! Jin might let me in the kitchen! Oh my god, I’m going to win a video game against Jungkook!”

Ecstatic, you watched Jimin laughing hysterically under you, joy written all over his face. It suited him.

Maybe now the curse was gone, you could do anything, but there was one thing you wanted more than all that.

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

Please please please reblog if you liked it, sharing my work really helps me out! Thank you for reading💜

223 notes · View notes