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doorrobloxstuff · 1 year

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POLY AU PART 2 ELECTRIC BOGALOO.

Eehhehehe tumblr likes harems. --

This was officially the worst week on Y/N's life.

First they fractured their hip after slipping on gasoline and soon after their boss quickly let them go soon after without much of even a warning. But wait, It gets worse!

They went to the hospital, who kept them there for an entire week before returning (against medical advice mind you..) to a trio of screaming children, a gaggle of shocked and concerned partners and a hotel that had looked like it had been through an earthquake because they had started to suspect that one of them had killed them and had covered it up.

All of this this in a span of a week.

Well, at least the pain meds the hospital gave them worked well enough.

They sat there. In their Alaskan-king sized reinforced steel framed bed staring at their iPhone and scrolling through tik toks and just trying to keep their mind off the future. Them and El-goblino at least. The Goblin hadn’t really left their side since the whole “Calm the fuck down, I’m not dead!” incident and joined them in bed on top of a mountain of pillows and was currently watching them scroll mindlessly through video after video. Occasionally pointing and saying "Me!" or "That looks delicious man.." trying his best to make them laugh to some modicum of success. “El Goblino, can you come here?" They murmured, reaching over towards him and offering to pull him close. El Goblino nodded and soon found himself closely nestled on their chest. "Oye, how's the medicine treating you Cariño?~" "Baby, I'm not going to lie to you. I feel like..I feel like..like that nasty red stuff that Figure vomits out on the floor when it's eaten too much is sloshing around in goddamn brain..and fuck.. My thighs have stopped hurting but my head..ugh.. my head..It feels like the world's worst hangover.." "Ahh, understood. I'm going to have to go out and forage for some morel anyways so I'll grab you some of that mint I've been drying while I’m out.” His yellow eyes seemed to soften up in concern. " ..Maybe some oregano..I don’t want to risk you catching a fever..” He sighed and butted his head into Y/N’s. “Just..” He briefly hesitated before he spoke. “-..be safe, tu escuchas? Don’t disappear me on me like that again and give me another heart attack..!” " He slid quickly down their arms and off the bed. "It's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon.." They said, pulling off the blanket and gesturing widely to their bruised legs. "Driving here was hell already so.. Love you.." ".. Love you too.. Adios.." ...

Y/N stayed on the bed in silence once he left. Their eyes once more drifting back to their phone. They stayed for a full hour. Maybe even longer.

That’s when they saw a saw an azure-purplelish glow gently illuminating a corner of the room.

A hazy image of Eyes slowly emerged from the ground. At the sight of Y/N awake, their eyes widened and the whispering around they chattered in excitement. The air around them seemed to fizz and occasionally beep like a geiger counter.

“Y/N..?”

Y/N weakly smiled and opened their arms. “Come here, cutie~”

Eyes carefully climbed up the bed and into their arms. Y/N planted a small kiss on top of them. They smiled with their eyes and wiggled with excitement. They held something behind their back.

“Watcha got back there?”

“Someone!! Wants to see you!!” It chittered and pulled out a Tupperware container. Thick black ooze bubbled and sloshed around in excitement and an eye opened. "Seek!"

“Y/N!” Seek leapt from it's container and spilled all over Y/N's chest, raced up their torso before halting right up against their face. A hand emerged from the non-newtonian mass and ever so lovingly brush up against their face. "We've missed you.."

"I've missed you guys too..I hated being in that hospital so much. I just..The whole time I was there all I thought about was the hotel..I wanted to come back..” They wrapped an arm around Seek. “No, I neede-"

"Hey! Hey!" Eyes squawked frantically. "Share them please! ₛₕₐᵣₑ! Their mine ₘᵢₙₑ! ₘᵢₙₑ ₜₒₒ! too!" Eyes stood indignantly at the edge of the bed having been accidentally pushed away by Seek.

Seek rolled its eye bashfully and scooted aside for Eyes to nuzzle right into their shoulder with a little vibrant 'tweet.' "Where’s everyone else?”

“Figure’s with the light beloved. But the rest are in the kitchen. I hope erm, I hope you like soup..?”

Seek chuckled nervously and it melted further into Y/N while Eyes twirled their hair. Ignoring the sight of burning turnips and spilt orange juice from the eye it had posted in the kitchen.

Y/N sat there, completely unsure how to respond or even if they should. Just a few minutes later, the smell of something gingery-tangy scented filled the air. A frowning Jack came in, muttering something obscene under its breath but still made an effort to smile in Y/N's prescence.

“Hi Y/N. How..are you?”

“Couldn’t be better.. You good there Jack?”

”No. Ambush ate an entire pile of wood.”

“Oh dear god is it okay..? Did they-“ Y/N lowered their voice. “ᵖᵘᵗ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘᵖ..﹖”

Jack made a chuckle and set the soup on the table. "Nein, it's edible....I think anyways." It climbed into bed with them and settled close to Seek who shuffled a little and just stretched its mass to meet it. It let out a loud yawn surprised it's goopy partner. "Tired..?" It murmured as it ran a hand through its fluffy collar. "Very." Jack whispered "I just want to lie down.." Seek made a sympathetic ripple before sliding some more of itself into Jack’s arms.

Y/N decided to bite the bullet. With a small sear of pain they scooted close to the three and wrapped their arm around the pair and pressed their face into Jack’s shoulder.

..Everything would be fine..

——-

Had to end it here, originally would’ve gone on longer but this things been sitting in my drafts since February. I also didn’t really know how to end it. So instead, Have Seek X yn x Gobby x Jack

#wardenrush.txt #roblox doors #doors roblox #doors x reader #doors seek #doors figure #doors rush #doors screech

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bulgeun-wihyeob · 1 year

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as is customary for 4/20 , i am out of my mind zooted . that being said , here are my stoned thoughts on different fallout 4 characters as stoners . nonhumans are humanized because it's funny . think like- a college au ig . don't take this post too seriously please 😭🤚

Companions

ada: can take three blinkers off a cart and be fine , tbh she probably smoked a decent amount with her original crew

cait: ✨ seasoned stoner ✨ , doesn't smoke much anymore but she'll engage in the doing of some good zaza occasionally , makes fun of deacon for smoking to become poetic

codsworth: would vomit after even breathing in secondhand mary jane smoke from twenty feet away

curie: has smoked weed to test sciencey shit that she was curious about , has a decent tolerance

danse: has never smoked weed in his life . decided not to after being half-blinded by stepping into a hotboxed room

deacon: among the ✨ seasoned stoners ✨ , has a MAD TOLERANCE because he's depressed and uses pot to make himself more poetic , he smokes to forget but he always remembers

dogmeat: if you give your fucking dog weed you are awful please do not let the dog hit the bong

hancock: ✨🍃king seasoned stoner 🍃✨ , his bare minimum with pot would have any other humanbeing dead burned and buried , smokes with deacon and cait sometimes , provides others with that good zaza

maccready: smokes sometimes either to feel ... deep and edgy , or nothing at all . would shove all the weed in his mouth if the cops came knocking , chew it up , and swallow it . buys from only the fInest most credible dealers

nick: he smokes every once in a while for similar reasons to deacon (it makes him more poetic) , his weird fucking 50's detective coat flaps in the wind more dramatically when he's stoned (he's some weird cosplayer like hancock ... nobody knows what his deal is)

old longfellow: nah this man is on smth a lot stronger than pot 😭🤚 i remember nothing about him as a character but looking at him scares me

porter gage: he is constantly crossfaded . he needs to be to cope with the dumb fuckin edgy junkies he hangs out with . he's dumb and edgy and a junkie too though so ... hypocrite ass

preston: he coff coff 💨 ouchie lung hoit 💨 coff coff 🌬️ no more zaza for pressie (he literally just looked at a bong and greened out)

strong: don't let him anywhere near any drug the entire human race would be wiped out (don't ask how my brain is starting to fizz and dissolve)

NPC's

amari: she'll pass weed along for friends if they need her to but she isn't too into smoking it . carrington Might be able to convince her to join him for a joint but it's rare

arturo: he'll share his zaza with you 🥳 only really smokes on weekends or holidays to avoid issues during the week . it's just a nice relaxing thing he usually does on his own

desdemona: this poor woman is so fucking stressed someone pass her a bong and a bucket she can sobb into . she smokes with carrington . they're both so stressed they're barely sophomores in college and they have gray hairs

drummer boy: he gets so weepy when zooted like please look after him 😭 wrap him up in a blanket and don't let him think . talks big game about smoking but he'd pass out in a hotboxed room

carrington: his tolerance is godly . he's been so stressed his whole life that he smoked in HIGH SCHOOL how scandalous~ would end another person's life for a fat blunt

crocker: 💀 this fucking wackjob is trying to find a way to mix Adderall and weed . hancock thinks he might just be a genius and everyone else thinks he needs to be behind bars

fahrenheit: oh girl she hangs with hancock she's blazing it in a back alley on campus in the middle of class , has some silly bimbo girl friends she likes to smoke with

glory: smokes with deacon and drummer boy primarily . will make fun of drummer boy for being weepy but takes care of him (not cuz she cares abt him 🙄 he's just a little worm) if he gets too bad . also smokes with des but they're gay asf eww

ingram: smokes very rarely like on special occasions . she doesn't have time to drift off into zazaland on a regular basis

irma: classy lady who smokes the finest quality zaza because she can . gets really really flirty with amari while high . gets flirty in general while high tbh . somehow fully aware/grounded the whole time tho

jun long: he ALSO smokes to forget but he always remembers . idk even if he didn't have a son thag died i feel like this man is HAUNTED like he needs that bud to survive

kent connolly: oh no no no don't give him weed . no good for the good little man . no good at all he cannot have that . give him a comic book and have him wait in the hall

magnolia: she smokes weed rolled in fucking rose petals . she deserves it tbh . smokes with kleo , irma , and daisy . sometimes her , mac , and deacon will sneak out to smoke in the park

marcy long: thinks weed is for lazy bums with no ambition . she takes care of jun when he's zooted but lectures him later . she wouldn't be caught dead with weed anywhere on her

myrna: she's too uptight to have ever smoked weed ... she is sucha fucking square

percy: he needs weed to cope with myrna . she's like his bossy mean toxic girlfriend who thinks he's inferior to her or smth idk man where am i

sturges: 😇 he like zaza it make him head go bzzzzztTtt bZZzzzzzZt like an old flip phone vibrating . sometimes he comes up with really weird projects while stoned and then he tries make them

sun: if only he had TIME to get zooted fUCK . his dormmate is a headache and his classes are hell . he'd gladly join carrington and amari for a smoke sesh but he does not have that kinda spare time

teagan: doesn't usually smoke himself but he sells that shit in some covert operation at a burger king drive-thru

quinlan: he smokes to quiet his buzzing mind . he gets very opinionated when stoned . his cat cannot escape his zooted cuddles

zeke: eh he'll chainsmoke cigarettes but draws the line at weed . cuz it's just nOt cOoL ??? (sturges likes being friends with zeke but is too autistic to understand why the man does not like to feel like his head is being banged like a gong)

ok i know i missed a lot of characters but considering how many i put in here i hope i deserve a pass 😇😇😇 um but ueah i am starting to really drift into zazaland . which is great . i'm gonna sleep fuckin epic tonight

anyways please don't take any of this seriously i could hardly remember who half of these characters are

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cavaree · 2 years

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potion shenanigans || l.minho

pairings: best friend!minho x gn!reader

genre: fluff (?), harry potter!au

warnings: swearing

word count: 874

a/n: FINALLY !! i've finally written something. it's not the best, has a bit of rough ending, and it was honestly gonna be some sort of murderer on the loose fic but i changed my mind last second </3 hope u guys enjoy anyway !!

you were in potions, messing about with the bubotuber pus, smearing it all over minho’s cloak, giggling away at the way he threatened to toss you off of the astrology tower.

the slytherin emblem stood proud on your vest (foregoing the cloak entirely once minho ended up splashing your front with an infusion of wormwood), which is probably the reason as to why snape hadn’t completely embarrassed you in front of the class. you could see the dirty looks he was throwing you every time a loud snicker left your mouth, and you imagined that he wished nothing more but to sew your lips together. it was his fault though, how could he expect a bunch of 7th years to make a new potion from scratch? he was lucky jisung hadn’t blown the room up into smithereens yet.

“y/n!” you heard minho cry out in frustration. “what the fuck are you doing?!”

you looked down to your hands, a bright pink glob clenched between your fingers, and glanced back up with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “what?” you say innocently.

his fists were in his hair, pulling at the pretty brown tufts in a wild frenzy, “you’re not supposed to be fucking squishing the dragon liver! do you have any idea how fucking expensive this shit is!?”

minho reached down, grabbing your wrist, and furiously shook your hand so the sticky mess would fall into the small cauldron sitting on the table, a plop being heard once the liver met whatever concoction the two of you had managed to create. a smirk found its way onto your face; you absolutely loved getting minho frustrated, it was one of your favourite pass times at this point.

you opened your mouth to say something snarky, when you heard a fizzing sound. you looked around curiously before realising that the sound was coming from your cauldron.

“shit, shit, shit,” you heard minho mumble under his breath in rapid succession. “oh shit.”

“why, what’s wrong,” you call out to him, slightly worried about his frenzied state.

not a moment later, the pot started vibrating, a deep red vapour drifting its way out of the metal walls, smelling oddly of cherries.

“well that’s not half as bad as what i thought would happen” you say rather naïvely, completely ignoring the look of utter contempt from minho.

a buzzing sound began echoing throughout the classroom, any and all chatter dying out reasonably quickly once they realised that the interesting audio was coming from your table. you grimace slightly, the incessant noise growing louder and reverberating in your eardrums.

“ey get back to your own potions,” you tell them, watching as they reluctantly turned away, side-eyeing the able as if it were some odd social experiment.

“y/n!” you hear snape yell from the front of the class, black cape fluttering as he stalked up to your table, his thin lips curled into one of the most intimidating scowls you’d ever seen.

you gulp down any retorts you had, nose scrunching with the effort of not saying anything completely dumb, and blink up with what you hoped were innocent eyes. “yes, sir?”

you heard minho snort into his fist at your overly sweetened and 100% unapologetic tone, instantly turning away once you shot him the most hideous glare you could muster.

“i’ve had just about enough of you,” snape snarls, looking down at you, beady eyes filled with so much hatred. “detention. for a week. you’ll be cleaning my potions cupboard to make up for your disobedience and inability to follow the most simplistic instructions.”

your mouth pops open. a week! one entire week with snape! your brain whirled with the effort of trying to come up with something that would get you out of this unbearable situation.

“but sir! it’s minho’s fault! he’s the one that was dozing off in your class.”

(what the correlation between minho falling asleep for less than 10 seconds and you creating the disaster in front of you was unknown.)

so maybe you were a bit of a tattletale, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

an indignant noise escaped minho’s lip, a look of fear and betrayal so obviously splayed out on his handsome face.

“then i’m sure he won’t mind giving up his evenings as well.”

you bite your lips to try and stop yourself from laughing at minho’s trembling form.

“i have quidditch practice, sir. changbin’ll have my head if i don’t show up.”

a blatant lie because minho for one did not do quidditch, nor would he ever listen to what changbin has to say.

snape gave him a once over before letting a razor-sharp grimace out. “that’s too bad isn’t it.”

he paused, staring you down. "i better not see any remnants of this disaster."

and with that, he stalked off, making his way to a new mess at the front of the class, a thin book magically appearing in his hands and coming down onto jisung's head with a loud thud.

"you-"

you hear minho growl, eyes in slits and teeth barred. "when i get my fucking hands on you y/n!"

you burst out laughing.

maybe potions was your favourite class if it meant pissing off your best friend.

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neonlights92 · 3 years

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RUN: Chapter IV

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for. He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants. So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly. And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook. So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos. How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N: SORRRRRRYYYYY!!!!

You were more confused than ever.

When Jungkook had promised you a loveless marriage, you knew where you stood at least.

And now… Now what?

He had kissed you and touched you - like no man ever had before - and now…. You were hungry for him.

You’d always loved him of course. Always longed for him.

But not like this.

Your mind kept replaying the other evening’s activities again and again. Butterflies soared in your stomach just at the sight of Jungkook’s back.

It was like you had unlocked a second part to your love - this one deeper, more visceral.

It pained you to be close to him. It pained you to be away from him.

And your husband….

Your husband acted like nothing was different.

In the weeks since that night, Jungkook went back to treating you as a friend. He took you in his arms as soon as the lights went off - but apart from that, he didn’t touch you.

You wondered if you’d done something wrong. Had you offended him somehow?

Was it because you hadn’t fulfilled your duty as you should? You wracked your brain again and again and again… But just came up empty handed.

That night had been perfect. Jungkook had been gentle and playful. He treated you as though you were something precious to him.

Your heart swelled once again as you thought of the boyish grin he shot you… His fingers on your skin… His lips on your lips.

God.

You were like a woman obsessed.

“Y/N?”

You were pulled out of your reverie by your husband’s voice. He was sat across the dining room table from you, his eyes scanning your appearance carefully.

It seemed he had caught you out yet again on one of your day dreams…

It happened often these days. Too caught up in remembering your husband’s touch, that you barely even noticed him when he was right in front of you.

“You seem distracted,” His smile was small, “Is everything ok?”

You nodded and tried to smile back, “I’m fine. Just uh… Tired.”

He raised a brow but decided to say nothing, turning back to the sirloin steak he’d just been eating.

You speared a tomato onto your fork as you watched your husband eat, eyes following the planes of his handsome face and heart fluttering around your chest like a hummingbird.

Everything he did seemed to send you into a frenzy, and as his teeth closed around the piece of meat and you watched him swallow it down, your temperature sky-rocketed through the roof.

Suddenly it was too hot. You were seeing stars. You felt like you might explode.

What on earth was wrong with you?

You stood up quickly, chair scraping back loudly against the wooden floor, and Jungkook stopped what he was doing.

He dropped his fork and cocked his head to the side, “Everything alright?”

You cleared your throat loudly, tucking your hair behind your ears and pressing your hands against your thighs.

“Yes.” You bit your bottom lip, “Yes. Everything’s fine. I just. I’m not hungry.”

His eyes moved to your empty plate, “You’ve barely eaten anything.”

You laughed - the sound empty and hollow - and shrugged, feeling the nerves climbing up your spine.

Could he sense just how anxious you were?

“I ate a big lunch.” Your tummy coiled tightly, “I think I’ll just… Go. To bed.”

The word bed sent another rush of heat through you, and your cheeks flushed bright pink. Jungkook’s face was a mask of neutrality. He never gave a single thing away.

Why couldn’t you be the same?

Hadn’t you both been raised in the mob?

“Okay.” He licked his bottom lip and your legs trembled at the sight, your hands reaching out to the edge of the table, to steady yourself, “I’ll come join you after I finish.”

You nodded tightly, moving away from him as quickly as possible.

You felt his eyes following you, even as you left the room, but you refused to meet his gaze.

That would mean things were truly over.

Jungkook’s gaze could cut through you like a beam of light, almost.

It should’ve been embarrassing how he affected you. And yet… You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You reached your bedroom and entered quickly, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool surface of it’s wood. You took deep breaths in, calming yourself down, and steadying your pulse now that you were alone.

Your husband was going to be the death of you.

Jungkook seemed to have no idea what he was doing to you.

And you couldn’t blame him for not knowing.

You were being absolutely ridiculous.

Weak at the knees from the sight of him eating?

How old were you?

What was wrong with you? That wasn’t how a woman of your age acted. It was ridiculous.

And yet… You couldn’t hate yourself for it.

Something about this newfound lust for your husband seemed to send the blood in your veins fizzing. You felt like a new woman. Like a lioness had been set free inside of you.

It was cheesy - completely absurd even - but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted your husband to ravage you.

You giggled at your own thoughts, moving towards the ensuite bathroom and running the warm water. Maybe a bath would help you relax.

It felt like you’d spent the entire evening tense in your husband’s presence - waiting for him to do something that would set you off again - and now your muscles were paying for it.

You dropped some lavender into the bath, and ran a bubble bar under the tap, watching as foam formed across the steaming water. This was exactly what you needed.

The water was heaven against your skin as you sank into the tub, closing your eyes and ridding your mind of your husband’s handsome face. You could think about him later, couldn’t you?

Except his long, slender neck kept materialising in your mind's eyes. You watched again and again as he swallowed the steak, and then slowly it was you he was swallowing. Your thighs rubbed against one another in some attempt to quell the heat you felt in your core.

But it was just the same as it had been the last few weeks.

Soon you couldn’t keep yourself occupied anymore, and your hand started to slide towards the apex between your legs. You imagined it was Jungkook’s fingers dancing across your skin, moving against you - lips covering as much as they could.

It wasn’t the same of course but it would do.

Your fingers finally reached their destination, and you arched your back, wishing it was your husband’s tongue on you.

“Jungkookie,” You breathed, giggling at the nickname you knew he hated, “Oh God.”

A throat cleared itself from behind you.

You sat up - ramrod straight - and whipped your head around to find your husband himself standing in the open doorway, arms crossed.

“What was that you called me?” His eyes were dark with lust, “Jungkookie?”

“Oh.” The word slipped out of your mouth without your permission, “What are you doing here?” “I came to check up on you.” He hadn’t moved from his position at the doorway, “I was worried about you. You were acting so strange at dinner.” A smile that was somewhere between kind and cruel played on his lips, “Now I know why.”

Your heart was slamming against your chest, as you remembered exactly where you were.

Naked. In a bathtub.

Your husband didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t stop on my account,” He rose a brow, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

You felt yourself trembling. He was enjoying this.

This… Game.

He was enjoying the way you burned for him.

“I - oh… God.” You were mortified - but somewhere beneath the shame was something brighter… Harder, “I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and finally, finally took a step towards you.

“What for?” He shook his head and came towards the bathtub, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, “I’m flattered my wife masturbates to the thought of me. You only needed to ask if you wanted my help.”

Your cheeks were blazing, but the look in Jungkook’s eyes was dampening your embarrassment.

“I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure.” You licked your bottom lip and his gaze snapped down to your mouth, “I wasn’t sure you wanted me like that. Again.”

His eyes lifted to your own once more, and this time it was like they were on fire.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night Angel.” His words were rough, coarse, “Believe me. I want you like that again. As many times as you want, actually.”

Your heart felt like it might rip itself out of your chest.

His hand reached up to your face, and he stroked a finger down your cheek.

You thought he might kiss you - you wanted him to kiss you so badly - but he pulled away after a moment, and his eyes disappeared down to your legs. He couldn’t see you properly, not with the bubbles in the way, but he seemed to want to devour you.

“Can you touch yourself again for me?” He asked after a moment, eyes sliding back up to your face, “I’ve never seen anything sexier.”

You were sure you were about to hyperventilate.

He had not just said that.

He didn’t mean it.

He couldn’t, right?

Jungkook had been with some many more women before you - older, more worldly… Well seasoned.

And yet, his eyes were looking at you with absolute conviction.

You nodded after another long pause and he smiled - that smile that you loved - eyes crinkling into two crescent moons.

He didn’t stand, as you thought he might, instead moving onto his knees and resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub.

He nudged your hand and you started to move it down the length of your body, watching as Jungkook’s gaze stayed stuck on your fingers.

“God.” He whispered, as though to himself, “So fucking hot, Angel.”

Your hands disappeared under the water, and you felt yourself shiver as your fingers touched your most intimate place. Your eyes closed then, focusing on your pleasure, and after a moment you felt your husband’s lips on your naked shoulder.

You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook licked his way up your neck to the shell of your ear - biting playfully on it. You groaned at his ministrations, and almost moved your hand away from your centre, when his own fingers enveloped yours.

“Jungkook - your shirt -”

“Don’t care,” He groaned, moving his fingers against your own - soaking his probably very expensive clothes, “Jesus. So hot.”

You arched into his touch and tried to slip your hand away from under his but he wouldn’t let you.

“No, no Angel,” He whispered against your ear, alternating between kisses and licks, “This is a team effort, okay?” You nodded then, desperate to finish - desperate to make him happy.

Desperate that he was touching you again.

His nose nuzzled into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and that was what did it for you. That act of intimacy - the way he seemed to be enjoying every inch of your skin - tightened the coil in your core until it snapped, and you fell apart into a million tiny pieces.

Jungkook encouraged you through it, landing kisses wherever he could and petting your core carefully, wanting you to enjoy every second of it.

After a moment, when you relaxed, he pulled away and you whined a little eyes still closed.

“C’mon,” He said softly, and you opened your eyes to meet with his, “This isn’t exactly comfortable, is it?”

You shook your head and giggled a little at the look on his face.

So open - so inviting.

His hand was reaching out to yours and you took it, no longer caring that you were naked, and standing up yourself.

His eyes scanned you hotly, and something akin to a blush covered your whole body. When he looked at you again you shivered at the appreciation in his gaze.

“Beautiful.” He murmured as you stepped out of the bathtub, arms tightening around your waist and lifting you up effortlessly.

You laughed again at this, “I’m getting you all wet.” “Don’t care,” He answered honestly, lips meeting your own finally as he kissed you with all the fierce passion of somebody in love.

You tried to tuck your feelings for him away - to enjoy the moment as it came - but you couldn’t help it. Your heart was swelling to nearly double the size, you loved him so much.

Jungkook carried you over to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed carefully and climbing on top of you. His arms caged around you, but you felt safer than you ever had.

You knew he’d never hurt you - never force you to do something you didn’t want to.

“Take this off,” You whispered after a moment, tugging on the collar of his shirt, “I want to see.”

He smirked then, in that way that was so quintessential Jungkook.

“Alright Angel. So needy.”

You didn’t even deny it, nodding furiously as you watched the shirt slide off his shoulders. You gasped when his chest was revealed, not even attempting to hide your astonishment.

He was so… Beautiful.

He groaned at the look on your face, cupping your cheeks and pressing a hot kiss against your mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered against your lips, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I could say the same for you,” You answered back, voice hoarse with desire, “Your pants, Jungkookie.” He pulled away and rose a brow at the nickname. You bit your bottom lip and smiled.

“Please?” The word slipped out of you - sweet as honey. He laughed.

“Alright,” He pressing a hand to your forehead and then started working on his belt buckle, “But only because you said please.”

You watched as your husband stepped out of his trousers - heart hammering against your chest as he stood glorious as ever, in a pair of tight, black boxers.

You knew what tonight might end with. You knew what you were offering up to him.

But the truth was… He’d had your heart… Your body… Your soul, since a long time ago.

So you weren’t scared. Quite the opposite in fact.

You were ready for this.

You were ready for him.

He kissed you again - fervently - and you felt the blood rise to the very tips of your ears. God. You loved him so much, it felt like you might burst.

He tugged his boxers down, and you felt him pressed up against your thigh. It might have made you anxious, were it anyone else, but with Jungkook it just felt… Right.

He pulled away slightly, eyes meeting your own, “Is this… Okay? Do you want to slow down?”

You shook your head quickly, hands coming up to cup his face.

“No. I want this.” You cleared your throat, “I want you Jungkook. Make me yours.”

Your husband’s eyes softened then, and you saw something deeper than just affection or lust. You saw something whole and full. Something you’d felt for him for so many years.

Your heart soared.

Could your husband learn to love you, too? “Okay,” He whispered against your lips, “It might hurt a little Angel. I’m sorry if it does.” You shook your head, “I don’t care Jungkook. As long as it’s with you.” His face seemed to melt then, like butter on a hot day, and his fingers pushed into you - opening you up for what you knew was coming.

And then he was inside you. He slid in gently, slowly, and though it hurt - you knew you could handle it. He stopped and pulled away slightly, hands moving your hair out of your face - eyes roving your features.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, and his lips were so close to your own it was like he was kissing you.

You nodded, “I’m fine. I promise. You can move, please.”

He smiled then - soft and caring - and you knew the love you had for him was shining in your eyes, but you didn’t really care. Not anymore.

When he started moving inside of you, you pressed your hands against his back, pulling him closer, wanting his skin against your own. He was so precious to you. So perfect.

And he was yours, wasn’t he?

He had to be.

His lips covered your own and you felt him tightening, tightening, tightening and you knew what was coming. He pulled back slightly, eyes screwed shut.

“Is it okay if I -”

You nodded quickly, frantically, “Anything you want Jungkook. Anything.” His eyes opened then and they were so beautiful - so open and honest and you felt like you might drown in them.

And the words slipped out of you, before you even really knew what was happening.

“I love you,” You whispered just as Jungkook reached the peak of his pleasure.

His eyes widened as they met yours, and you smiled.

Even if he didn’t love you back… It didn’t matter. Because he was yours.

He had to be.

He collapsed on top of you after he was finished, breathing heavily, and you enjoyed his closeness with open arms - running your fingers up and down his naked back. After a moment he pulled away - a small smile on his face.

“That was…”

“Amazing?” You supplied, grinning.

He pressed a hand to your cheek and kissed the side of your mouth, “Yeah. Amazing.” Your heart swelled.

Maybe all was not hopeless.

Your husband was gone when you woke the next morning.

His side of the bed was cold, and even though he wasn’t there to greet you, you were still warm from his touch.

Everything had changed between you… Hadn’t it?

It couldn’t stay the same.

Not after the way he’d kissed you. Not after the way he’d held you.

You sighed to yourself feeling light and frothy inside. He hadn’t said he loved you - but the way he’d looked at you last night…

He could learn to love you. Your marriage didn’t have to be cold and desolate as he’d promised you. Things were changing.

You stood slowly, legs sore and aching - and pulled a nightgown around you. It had been hours since you’d had a drink of water - and you blushed as you thought of how much exercise you’d actually endured since last night.

You tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible… But secretly, you sort of wanted all of the help to wonder if Jungkook had finally made you yours.

It was silly, maybe, but the thought of others knowing that your husband wanted you in any capacity, brought a glow to your skin.

You slipped your feet into some slippers and smiled to yourself, stepping out of your bedroom and almost skipping down the hallway.

It felt almost like you were floating on a cloud.

You started making your way towards the kitchen - intending to make yourself a quick breakfast - when you noticed that the door to Jungkook’s study was slightly ajar. You crept towards it, intending to surprise him with your presence, when you noticed he wasn’t alone.

Your heart swam all the way into your throat as you noticed that Jungkook was standing in front of a woman.

You couldn’t see her face - only the back of her head - but you knew it was a woman when she spoke.

“You promised you’d wait for me.” There was a tremble in her voice.

“I couldn’t… There wasn’t anything I could do. It was decided for me.”

Jungkook’s eyes were unreadable. You felt your chest tighten.

“This was why you kept me a secret,” You could hear the tears in her voice, “This was why you kept up the pretense of fucking around. So you could marry her?”

Your husband’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her, grabbing her by the arms.

“Keep your voice down Violetta,” His voice was soothing, “She’ll hear you.”

Her shoulders were shaking and you realised she was crying, “I don’t care Jungkook. I thought you loved me. Was I wrong?”

There was a long beat of silence. Your husband’s eyes softened then, and the mask dissolved.

“Violetta…”

And then she reached up and pulled your husband towards her. And she kissed him.

Your heart cracked right down the middle and you choked back a sob. Jungkook pulled away from her almost immediately - his eyes darting to meet with yours.

He’d heard you.

“Y/N!”

He moved away from Violetta and as you turned, your eyes connected with hers.

She was beautiful.

Your world crumbled like dust around you, and you spun around quickly, running towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut. You used the locks your husband had assured you were only a precaution, and fell to the ground - leaning against the surface of the portal.

After a moment, Jungkook’s voice came from the other side.

“Y/N.” You didn’t say anything.

“Y/N. Please. Open the door.”

The sobs started rolling through your body.

“Y/N… Please. Y/N please, let me talk to you.”

It was too late.

Too late.

You felt like you were collapsing in on yourself - like a dying star.

Violetta.

That was who he loved. Not you.

Never you.

#jungkook #kpop #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook mafia #mafia au #bts mafia au #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts arranged marriage au #kpop fanfiction

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

So this is sort of similar to the people writing fanfic about the lions but can you imagine the YouTube edits? Like the videos that are just "Cap having heart eyes for Loops for 10 minutes straight" or "Loops lovingly dragging Caps name through the mud for 3 minutes" like those kinds of things and I can just imagine them doing reaction videos and it just being funny and the world just loving coops

Okay so this wasn't a specific fic request but I got carried away with imagining videos and....here you go. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace and Anna are mine! Bonus points to anyone who remembers the easter egg in this one!

Message From: Gracie

ANNA HOLY SHIT

Anna frowned at her phone screen, squinting to read around the spiderweb crack decorating the upper corner. She had tried to convince herself that it was cool, goth, edgy, but in the end she had to admit that it was just irritating. In a tragic turn of events, packing tape couldn’t fix everything.

Message To: Gracie

Wtf did I do

Two weeks of radio silence, then unexplained accusations. Anna shook her head as the grey bubble disappeared for a third time and turned back to her computer. Grace may have been her favorite cousin—and favorite person, if she was being honest—but very few things came between Anna and video editing. Especially editing for a Lions meme video. She had a whole 2,341 followers to attend to, after all.

Message From: Gracie

DID YOU SEE THE FUCKING INTERVIEW???

Message To: Gracie

Wow thank you so helpful

Message From: Gracie

Skip to 2:45 bestie

A link popped up just as Anna cut a segment from the sleep study video, where Loops’ heart eyes were in full effect. It was a rare, precious find for fan editors like herself.

“Come on,” she groaned. Maybe introducing Grace to the deepest parts of her hockey obsession was a mistake. But, really, what else was she supposed to do when she learned her cousin, who didn’t even live in Gryffindor, got to meet her favorite players just by chilling in a café? What kind of cosmic joke was that?

She narrowed her eyes at the embed of the link, then stifled a shriek. Impossible. How had she missed an upload?

As if on cue, her computer pinged with a new notification from the Lion Pride channel. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, scrambling to save her half-done video and pressing play.

The interviewer asked basic questions, ones she had heard the answers to a million times while curating her content. It always felt funny to hear people refer to Cap as ‘Sirius’—it was too official, too formal. She had spent countless hours on the compilations of his softer moments, and they were her most popular videos. Cap Having Heart Eyes for Loops for 10 Minutes Gay. Cap Being an Actual Puppy for Six and a Half Minutes. Everyone Wanting Cap Cuddles for Fifteen Minutes. Every Time Cap Smiles When Someone Mentions His Godson. The list was endless. She loved it.

She did a silent fist pump when she saw the interviewer had snagged both Cap and Loops; that would give her a whole new stream of workable content. If she was lucky, she could expand on her series of Loops Lovingly Roasting His Friends, part…fuck it, who was even counting anymore?

Anna was so caught up in her excitement that she nearly forgot about Grace’s suggestion. I’ve never skipped through a video on the first watch before, she thought hesitantly. But maybe just this once…

Her cursor hovered over the 2:45mark. She closed her eyes, and clicked it.

“—have you been adjusting to life as a celebrity?” the interviewer asked. Anna nearly rolled her eyes when Loops laughed. That question had been used far too often to be interesting anymore.

“It’s had its ups and downs,” Loops said with a smile. “Mostly, though, the fans have been incredible and just knocked my socks off with their support.”

“Really? What’s your favorite part of the Lions fanbase?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Their creativity, for sure. There was a video a while back where we reacted to some of the comments people left, and this person on Twitter made an absolutely beautiful collage of photos.”

“I have it saved to my phone,” Sirius added.

One more clip for the simp video. Anna made a note on the small corner space of her European History notes. The degree can wait for ten more minutes.

“Do you have a favorite creator?”

The interviewer was clearly teasing, but Loops’ smile was genuine. “I don’t know about a favorite, but there’s this person on YouTube who makes a shit ton of videos and they’re hysterical. I saw one the other day about—god, what was it again?”

“Every time I smile when people mention Harry,” Sirius answered around a laugh. “Can you blame me?”

Anna didn’t hear the next question. A ringing noise filled her ears as she sat, frozen, on her shitty dorm mattress and listened to her literal heroes talk about her dorky little channel. “Holy fuck,” she blurted after a moment of silence. “Holy fuck.”

“—subscribed?” The man’s voice snapped her back to reality.

“Of course I am!” Loops said. “You think I’m passing up a chance to watch a compilation of my friends making stupid decisions for the entire internet to see?”

A noise that would have been a shriek if Anna had any breath left in her body escaped her lungs; she clamped a hand over her mouth and shakily exited from the video before going to her YouTube account. 800 new notifications. 700 new followers in the last quarter hour. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second from sheer shock and joy.

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

You’re famous!

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

I bet he knows your stuff better than he remembers me tbh

“They know me,” she whispered, staring at her computer. The unfinished video showed a perfect frame of Loops’ soft smile as he watched Cap get his toothbrush stuck in his pajama shirt. Somehow, the thought was both exhilarating and horrifying. What if they thought she was a creep? She wasn’t, not really, just a bored college student with not enough free time for a job but too much to keep herself busy with schoolwork. Her 2,341—no, 3,052—followers were just other hockey nerds looking for time to kill.

And the subject of those videos was one of her subscribers.

Anna slipped her headphones back on and began to edit like it was her last day on earth. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on muscle memory while her brain fizzed. Perfect, she thought. It has to be perfect.

In four hours, it was done. She sat back, panting, then hunched over again and began tapping out a title card.

Hello. Idk if anyone saw the new Lion Pride video today (linked below if anyone wants to see why I’m dying right now) but apparently Remus Lupin is subscribed to this channel and has been for a while.

Hi Loops. I’m Anna. You met my cousin once and she said she liked your sweater.

Now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy the next five minutes of our new rookie being the sappiest mf in existence (except for his fiancé). Mr. Lupin, please tell Hattie I say hello.

She pressed upload, peeled her headphones off, and collapsed backward on her bed.

Message To: Gracie

If I die here, tell the world I did it doing what I loved

Message From: Gracie

Will do

OH FUCK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE SWEATER I SOUND LIKE A CREEP

Anna covered her itchy eyes with her forearm and settled in for a long, long nap. Her brain still needed to repair a few circuits.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #anna #grace #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #ocs #hattie #lion pride

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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

Betelgeuse Above The Horizon

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Fem Reader

Request: “don’t cry” and “this is all my fault” for delia x reader?

Summary: reader comforts Cordelia after she failed to rescue Queenie from the Cortez

A/N: thank you to the anon who requested this <3 I hope you’ll like it. No warnings ; this is your typical hurt/comfort fic

Word count: ~ 3 000

You closed the back door behind you as gently as you could. It was a hot summer night, and most of the girls slept with their windows open. No one liked to be awakened at 2:30 am.

You looked up at the clear sky and flashed a wistful smile at the stars. The moon had set half an hour ago and there was a perfect spot behind the greenhouse that blocked most of the city lights. You walked quickly, the cool grass tickling your bare feet, clutching a pillow to your chest.

You had been suffering from insomnia for the past couple years. Some nights were fine, but there were others when thoughts would keep buzzing and buzzing in your head and sleep would elude you entirely. So on those nights, you had taken to study the stars.

It was beautiful, looking up at the darkest time of night to see the twinkling, jeweled immensity of the sky. It soothed your heart.

You had barely got any sleep in the past week. Too many thoughts. Most of them were about Cordelia. Yet again tonight you had lain in your bed turning and tossing and seeing her face behind your eyelids, remembering something she had said to you today, or how close her hand had been to yours when she had put her empty glass in the sink. You were falling hard for your Supreme and it was driving you crazy.

You had contemplated making a move a few days ago, but rather quite abruptly changed your mind. For Cordelia had come back alone from the Hotel Cortez.

She had been gone longer than expected. When one of the girls came into your room to tell you Miss Cordelia was finally home, you all but ran downstairs to welcome her. When you reached the landing of the stairs it dawned on you that the girl had not mentioned Queenie. A feeling of dread settled in your chest, and expanded when you took one look at Cordelia. Her shoulders were slumped, her face pale and sad. She looked so exhausted you were afraid she might collapse where she stood, so you rushed to her and laid one hand on her shoulder for support and comfort. She met your gaze briefly, and your heart broke at the sadness and shame you could see in her eyes.

Cordelia was always so strong. So brave and so powerful. She was the last light to shine when everything else had succumbed to darkness. To see her look so defeated did not only sadden you; it felt terribly wrong.

Zoe walked in with a bright smile on her face and sang, “Welcome back Queenie!” She had meant no harm, of course, had not yet realized. Cordelia’s face fell, and so did Zoe’s. Your grip on Cordelia’s arm tightened.

Cordelia lowered her eyes. Her chin trembled. Then she glanced back up at Zoe, eyes watering, and shook her head.

She did not say much, merely asked if she was needed for anything before she announced she had sleep to catch up on. You followed her up to her room without thinking, stopped awkwardly in her doorway. She turned back to look at you, patiently waiting, and your heart broke again at the sadness that was her smile.

“Er, is there anything I can do… ?”

She shook her head. Her hair was duller than usual and looked thinner around her tired face.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You clutched your pillow tighter as you walked along the greenhouse, and sighed. There had been a constant, dull ache in your heart ever since Cordelia’s return, that you could not get rid of. It tinted everything you did, thought and felt, covered the world in a clear, grey light like the light in winter and lent it sadness. You flashed another wistful smile at the stars.

You rounded the corner of the greenhouse and suddenly stopped. A light was on, and you could just see the shape of a woman sitting among the plants. You heard a voice, too, a faint mumble, and a few notes of mellow jazz music.

You hesitated, stroking your chin on the top of the pillow as you stared at the shape. It was barely visible, but your heart recognized it.

You set the pillow down by the door and walked into the greenhouse.

Cordelia raised her head at the sound of your footsteps. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying. You offered her a smile as you walked up to her.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey there.” The smile she gave you in return had none of its usual warmth. If anything, it made her look sadder still. “You’re up late.”

You shrugged. “So are you.”

She was leaning over a green plant in a pot, her fingers distractedly stroking one of the long drooping leaves. You gestured towards it.

“What’s this?”

Cordelia took a long time to answer. “A friend of mine once told me she thought those leaves have healing properties. That they could soothe, any kind of ache.” She paused, swallowed. When she spoke again her voice was higher and trembling slightly. “I tried brewing them in multiple ways, but all I can make out of them is bad tea.”

“Um,” was all you could answer. The sadness in her voice was like a slap in your face. Again it hit you, how wrong it was, how terribly wrong it felt. Shame and defeat should never have anything to do with Cordelia.

You dug your fingers in your arm to stop yourself from pulling her into your arms.

“It’s too bad that friend of mine isn’t here anymore,” Cordelia went on. Her hand tugged at the leaf, so hard you thought it would tear. “Misty, was her name.”

“Where is she?” you asked carefully.

Cordelia lifted her head as she gave a sad, almost cruel, little laugh. Her eyes briefly met yours, big and dark and lost.

“Why, she’s dead. Another girl I couldn’t save.” Cordelia slammed her hands on the table, making you jump. “Another girl I failed. You know, sometimes I do believe my mother was right about me. She would have been able to save them. I know she would.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, watching her, at a loss for what to do or say to comfort her. She was your strong rock, she had always been so. Now all you could do was stand still as your heart clenched for her and your brain grappled with words.

Cordelia closed her eyes, forced herself to take a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and gave you another sad smile. A tear rolled down her cheek, which she quickly wiped with shaky fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sad laugh.

Before you knew it, your hand was extending towards her.

“Come on,” you said. “Come with me.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked like she was about to protest, but then her hand slipped into yours. You gave her fingers a squeeze, the warmth of her skin spreading all the way to your heart and head.

You shut the light in the greenhouse, led Cordelia out and into the starry night. The air outside smelt of grass and of that distinctive, earthly smell that always comes with summer.

You picked up the pillow, and led Cordelia to your usual stargazing spot.

“You know what I do when I can’t sleep?” you asked in a whisper.

You dropped the pillow, gestured for Cordelia to sit down. In the dark her hair glowed faintly. There was a glint of light from the stars in her eyes.

“I watch the constellations.” You smiled, not sure she’d see it, but knowing she would hear it in your voice. “I’ve become quite good at finding them. I could tell you.”

There was a pause, silence only broken by the fastening beat of your heart in your ears. The darkness seemed to have sharpened your senses, for you could feel Cordelia’s presence as if it were hugging your soul.

You waited nervously, until finally came her answer: “I’d love to.”

You beamed.

“Ok ok,” you said, “lie down, use the pillow for your head.”

You lay side by side on the grass. It tickled your neck and ears, and you had to readjust your position several times until you were satisfied. Your arm touched Cordelia’s. You contemplated removing it, chose not to. Cordelia did not move either.

As children do, you pointed out constellations to her, trying to give precise directions but failing miserably. The tightness in your throat relaxed when Cordelia, unable to find Capella, finally let out a genuine laugh.

The touch of her skin against yours was like a fire in your arm, but a fire that causes no pain, only brings warmth.

“Scorpius is my favourite,” you said, tracing your finger over it. “Especially when it’s so close to the horizon. It looks like the tail of a giant animal hiding behind the Earth.”

Cordelia laughed again. You heard something move, and then felt the warmth of Cordelia’s fingers as they laced with yours. Sparks flew to your head, and your heart purred.

“I didn’t know you were so well versed in astronomy,” Cordelia whispered. “You put your own Supreme’s knowledge to shame.”

You didn’t miss the bitterness in her words, the way her voice wavered slightly at the end of her sentence. You gave her hand a squeeze, and moved your arm so that more of your skin was touching hers. Something warm fizzed in your stomach.

“You know what?” you said suddenly, without thinking. “In all my time of stargazing, I found you in the sky.” You pointed across the sky from Scorpius. “See Orion here? See the bright orange star on the left? That’s Betelgeuse. That’s you.”

Cordelia scoffed sadly. She raised her free hand to wipe her cheek.

“You’re the arm that raises Orion’s weapon,” you told her, a soft, dreamy smile tugging at your lips, “one of the biggest stars we know of, and the day you turn into a supernova – which will only be in a few thousand years, a blink of the eye, mind you – you’ll be visible from Earth even by day. You’ll shine in our sky and everyone will look up at you in wonder.”

There was a pause, as you absentmindedly stroke your thumb over Cordelia’s and grinned at the star, and then a sob burst out of Cordelia, low and painful. You turned to her quickly in confusion.

“Oh, no, no,” you mumbled, propping yourself up on your elbow, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – oh, please don’t cry.”

Cordelia was swiping at her eyes urgently, probably unwilling to let you, one of her girls, see her in that vulnerable state, but the tears were coming too fast, and her shoulders were shaking with sobs.

That was the last straw. Before you knew it, you had scooted over and she was in your arms, one of your hands coming to rest on her back, the other one running gently in her hair. She didn’t protest, and hid her face in the crook of your neck.

“Poor Queenie,” you heard her say. She wasn’t trying to control herself anymore: her voice came out weak and broken, heavy with guilt. It made tears pool in your own eyes. “She trusted me to get her out of that horrible, satanic hotel. She looked so relieved to see me, so confident, and I… I failed her,” she finished in a breath. You felt her tears on your skin and held her tighter.

“Now she’s trapped for eternity, just as Misty is, because I was too weak to save them. I can – “ She choked on a sob, let out a pitiful wail that clawed at your heart. “I can f-feel their despair and anguish and it’s all my fault.”

“Hold on, no.” You pulled away a bit too abruptly to look at her, and cupped her face. Her skin was wet and hot under your fingers. It took all of your self-control not to kiss it dry.

When you spoke, your voice was firm and verging on angry. “Now you listen to me. None of it was your fault. Bad things happen all the time, and sometimes they simply cannot be fixed.” You paused to take a breath, stroked your thumb over her cheekbone and caught another tear. “You cannot save everyone, Cordelia. It already means so much that you try.”

“But I – “ Cordelia started. You cut her off.

“And your mother, Cordelia, your mother.” In the dark you rolled your eyes and winced. “I didn’t get to know her, but from what I’ve heard she wouldn’t even have tried to save any of them. She wouldn’t even have cared. “

Again, Cordelia’s mouth opened to protest, but you had had enough. So, without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her silent.

It was nothing more than a peck, a mere touching of lips, but it felt better and sweeter than any kiss you had ever given. You pulled away, baffled by your own action, to blink at Cordelia. Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly opened. It seemed to you she had stopped breathing.

“I – “ you started, but words vanished from your brain.

Cordelia blinked. Another tear rolled down her cheek. You leaned in again, kissed it away. Her skin was soft and warm and smelt like summer.

Slowly, Cordelia tilted her head until her mouth met yours

It seemed to you the world had stopped turning. The stars had frozen in the sky and held their breaths as they watched.

You pressed closer into Cordelia, one of your hands coming down to grip at her arm, the other cupping her cheek, wiping the tears that were still clinging to her skin. Her lips were soft and wet and more intoxicating than the most intoxicating of wines. It made your head spin. Or maybe it was just the world, which had started turning again.

When Cordelia broke the kiss, you kept your eyes closed for a few seconds, savouring the taste of her still on your lips. Afraid you would open your eyes and find her gone. That had happened so many times before when you had awakened from dreams.

But here she was, her hair a faint halo in the dark, her eyes bigger than the sky, and oh, how your heart swelled when her lips curled up into a soft, fond smile.

You cleared your throat. “Well,” you said, your voice husky. “That was unexpected.”

Cordelia chuckled. She bit her lip, raising one hand to touch your face.

“I’m glad you couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

“Um.” You kissed her palm. “Me too.”

For a while you kept silent, staring into each other’s eyes, a goofy smile on both your faces. And then Cordelia’s smile flickered, and here was that sadness again, clouding her eyes.

“Hey,” you whispered, lifting one hand and running the pad of your index over her brow. You leaned in and kissed it until the creases of worry disappeared. You cupped her cheek and smiled at her. “It’ll be okay. None of this pain will last.”

For a moment Cordelia just stared at you, and then she gave one almost imperceptible nod. One of her hands slipped behind your neck to pull you close and plant soft, chaste kisses on your lips. Again, the stars held their breaths. From somewhere far away came the sound of fireworks, or maybe it was just your heart celebrating. Cordelia nibbled at your lower lip and gently licked it, her tongue hot and wet, and she released a breath through her nose that tickled your cheek and sent tingles down your spine.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the pillow, and you lay yours on her chest, humming contentedly as you listened to her heartbeat. Around you all was quiet. One of Cordelia’s hands absently ran through your hair.

“I’ll visit her once in a while,” Cordelia whispered. “Queenie. To make sure she’s okay, and that there’s nothing more I can do.”

You hummed. “I’ll come with you if you’ll have me.”

Your eyelids were getting heavy with sleep. You pressed your nose against Cordelia’s chest, breathing her in.

“We should stay here and watch the sun rise,” you mumbled after a while.

Cordelia dropped a kiss on your forehead. You kissed her chest in return.

“Even though I may fall asleep,” you added.

She chuckled. “That’s alright. I’ll wake you.”

You lifted your head to look at her. She was staring at Betelgeuse, and she must have felt your gaze, for she tilted her head to meet your eyes. Slowly, like the sun or the moon rising, her soft, warm, glorious smile crept up her lips and chased the sadness from her eyes.

“Here we go,” you grinned, reaching out to caress the corner of her mouth. You propped yourself up and kissed her. “No more tears tonight. Let me love you under the stars.”

#ahs imagines #ahs #sarah pauslon x reader #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #sarah paulson #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #fics

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jewish-space-laser · 3 years

Note

ok i have an idea for a cbl blurb? could u do a blurb from harry’s pov from the night where he got drunk and how he felt when he saw yn and stuff? ik it already happened but i think seeing it from his viewpoint would be interesting!

Could be Lethal - Part Three (Harry’s POV)

“And every time I’ve held a rose, It seems I only felt the thorns, And so it goes, and so it goes, And so will you soon I suppose...”

– And So It Goes, Billie Joel

HELLO EVERYONE! It’s been months since I’ve posted anything on here, but I randomly got the motivation to pick this up last week. I apologize in advance for my rusty writing skills! This ask has literally been sitting in my inbox for 10 months, so posting it actually feels quite cleansing. Anyway, here is a (long) blurb full of angst, angst, and you guessed it, angst! I hope you love Harry’s take of that night as much as I do. I love you all muchly, thank you for your ongoing love and support <3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxooox Tile

(3.8k word)

You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?

The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.

See the CBL masterlist here!

WARNING: Detailed descriptions of heavy drinking

~~~

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit.

Harry was miserable. He knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it… it seemed the only person who wasn’t picking up on his desperation was you.

You were a complete enigma to him. Sometimes, you were the warmest, most open person he’d ever met, indulging him with interesting conversations, stupid jokes, and even the occassional existential discussion. It was always difficult for Harry to truly open up to a person, having been jaded time and time again by people who weren’t able to look past his famous exterior.

That’s what makes it so much harder, he thinks. Knowing you properly, you knowing him properly. It made the moments where you were closed off harsher, colder, more difficult to read.

Since you left his house two days prior, he had done just about anything he could to take his mind off of you. He loved thinking about you, but he also hated thinking about you. It was tortuous and circular and he just wanted a brief moment of emotional respite.

No, he didn’t want respite, he needed it.

So he watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row, tested out a new stir fry recipe, spent way too much money online shopping, and even scrolled through the Humane Society website in a moment of weakness. But none of it mattered, because even if he could distract himself for a moment, you were still there, lingering in the peripherals of his mind like a song stuck in his head.

It was dizzying and mind-boggling, and Harry was at a loss for what to do. So when Sunday morning rolled around and it still felt like his lungs were being crushed into a ball, he started drinking.

It was only 8:00AM, but he bypassed the coffee cabinet and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork was as loud as a gunshot, but Harry didn’t even flinch, hardly registering the sound of it hitting the floor across the room as he rushed the bottle to his lips.

Bubbles fizzed past his tongue and dripped down his chin, sliding down his bare chest before puddling on the floor. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the burn of the carbonation, but each gulp sent pleasant tingles over his skin.

For the first time in ages, his mind felt numb. He didn’t necessarily feel good, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore, and that’s what mattered. He could close his eyes without seeing your smile flash in his head, he could listen to music without immediately relating the lyrics to you, and after his second bottle of wine, he was even able to brew a cup of coffee without thinking of you.

Okay, maybe he thought of you a little.

At some point, he passed out on the couch, cartons of Vietnamese takeout sitting cold on his coffee table. When his eyes finally blinked open, the sun had already started to set.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. There was a familiar ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly into his empty house. It never used to feel empty, but now you’d come and gone, and it was too late. You’d left your mark on his house and his coffee and his heart… so he drank more.

There was no more wine, so he started in on his collection of hard liquor, expensive bottles lined on top of his cupboards. Normally they were reserved for when he had guests over, but this fell into the realm of desperation. His sunken eyes scanned the glass bottles before settling on the cheapest of them, an unopened Maker’s Mark. It would do.

He was pouring a healthy sized glass of the whisky, and then suddenly he wasn’t. His heavy eyes blinked in confusion as he stared across the bar at the bartender, who was raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“That’ll be thirty-five pounds, mate,” the bartender said, “got roped into buying the first round, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see Thomas and Jessie watching him from a booth.

He doesn’t remember leaving his house, let alone coming to the pub with his friends. In fact, if he tried to think about it, his memory of the entire day felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together.

In his mind, this was a success. A full day gone without thinking about you or talking to you or seeing you. The clock behind the bar read 00:43 in red neon numbers. He took one of the shots quickly, signing the bill and taking the remaining five back to his friends.

“Harry mate, we told you we’re not getting pissed tonight,” Thomas groaned, “what’d you get six shots for?”

“What kind are they?” Jessie asked, wrinkling their nose.

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged, setting the tray down directly in front of himself. His vision swayed to and fro, but he still managed to down another shot, disregarding the concerned look his friends shared. “It’s rum. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”

“It’s a Sunday, mate,” Thomas reminded him gently.

“We’re at a pub, aren’t we?” Harry slurred. “Supposed to get drunk here.”

“You asked us to come here,” Jessie said slowly, “said you needed to talk to us about something.”

Harry blinked at them slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t remember any of this.

“Actually, he said he needed a drink,” Thomas corrected, “I didn’t realize he meant twenty drinks.”

Another shot burned down his throat, and then everything was cold.

“Harry.”

His head was pounding. Every limb felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, already overwhelmed by the echo of Thomas’s voice reverberating off of the tile floors.

“Harry.”

He knew that somebody was trying to get his attention, but he just couldn’t. The alcohol had done its job for most of the day, keeping his brain muddled down and diluted just to spare him the pain of remembering. But now, it backfired, trapping him inside his own head with no way out, with nothing to do but remember. He could hear people talking in the background, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was as if he was underwater, slipping further and further down with each painful clench of his heart.

He felt a hand press against his arm, and jerked away, causing his stomach to twist. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he certainly didn’t want to be bothered.

“G’way, Thomas,” he managed to grunt.

“It’s me.”

Your voice was clear as crystal to him, but he knew it couldn’t be real. You had left him, after all.

The image of you driving away from his house was burned into his memory, playing over and over again in slow motion. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember the way your body had felt beneath his, whining and squirming and gasping, just like he’d always dreamed about. He could remember the sunken expression on your face the next morning, the heavy silence of the car ride to the coffee shop. He could remember how he’d hoped, so badly, that you’d finally talk about it, this unspoken connection that could no longer be denied. Most of all, he remembers the way his heart dropped when you told him that you didn’t remember any of it.

Another gentle brush, this time along his hairline, and he managed to open his eyes just a sliver.

You looked amazing. Well, there were circles under your eyes, you were wearing your pajamas and slippers, and you were frowning in concern, but to Harry, you were the most beautiful thing.

“You’re here… y’really here….” he sighed.

You were crouched in front of him, holding a plastic cup of water, and all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest. You looked sleepy and cosy, just like you always did when you stayed over. Before he could reach out to pull you close, you were putting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip.

He took it, grateful for the relief it provided his dry mouth. For the first time since he came to, he took in his surroundings. He was in a single stall bathroom, curled on the floor next to the toilet. The walls were an ugly pale yellow, while the floors were white, making the streaks of dirt and grime more noticeable than ever. Thomas was leaning against the sink across the room, watching you as you tried to get him to finish the cup.

“Y’look so pretty, always look so good,” Harry slurred, “just wanna snuggle, like we always do.”

He loved the way your mouth dropped open. Everything about you was endearing, really. He watched as you twisted your head to say something to Thomas, water sloshing around in the cup when you nodded your head quickly. Thomas left immediately after, but Harry hardly even noticed.

When you turned back around to face him, he felt blinded. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, they’re bright and they pierce through him just like always. He loves the color of your skin and the shape of your nose and the little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re anxious. He thinks he could probably paint you with his eyes closed.

Warmth licked across his skin when you brushed your fingertips against his forehead, tucking a stray lock of hair back into place. Harry leaned into your touch, unwilling to let the moment pass too quickly.

“Can you try taking a sip of water, H?” You tilted your head. “For me?”

He could have laughed, had he not been so nauseated. He would do anything for you normally, but he really did feel awful. “G’na make me sick,” he insisted, wrinkling his nose at the cup in your hand. Even though he could hardly focus, his eyes zeroed in on the faded X scrawled in sharpie on the back of your hand, a souvenir from your night out at TAVERN. He had a matching mark on his hand, and he dreaded the moment the ink would wash off fully. Just another thing forgotten.

He just wanted you.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the look on your face told him that it had slipped out. There was no way he regretted it though, not with you right in front of him. Not in this state of mind.

“It’s gonna make you feel better, and then we can go home,” you urged softly, scooting a tiny bit closer to him.

Home. When he thought of home, he thought about mornings in his house, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and leaving shadowed stripes across your skin. Home was the way you squinted your eyes tighter together right before waking up. Home was you at his kitchen table, going off at him about not doing his dishes.

“Y’coming home w’me?” He managed to say. Your eyes softened.

“Only if you drink this whole cup,” you lifted it up to him once again, gingerly tilting his head up with a finger on his chin. Even though he felt like his stomach would combust if tried to swallow anything, he allowed you to help him drink some water. Some sloshed messily onto his shirt, but it felt sobering. You met his eyes for a moment, “is that good?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

If you asked him to drink water, he would drink water. He would drink an entire ocean of water. It was achingly clear to literally everybody but you. He could tattoo your name over his heart and you still wouldn’t see.

You gulped loudly, but didn’t say a word, simply prompting him to take another sip of water. He wished more than anything that you’d say something. Make some kind of facial expression. He just wanted a signal, a sign, that you felt anything towards him; disgust, affection, pity.

He was sure you must pity him.

Harry drank the rest of the water, cheeks burning as he asked you for a refill. He was still drunk, but the fog had cleared enough for him to sit up straight without feeling like he was going to hurl. He watched you refill the cup in the sink that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, but that was honestly the least of his concerns.

“Y’must think I’m pathetic,” he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the wall. “Can’t lose you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he heard you say quietly.

But it felt like he had. Because even though you were friends, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t fall asleep to the sound of your soft exhales. It wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t feel that rush of excitement when you sneakily texted him under the table on nights out. Having you at a distance could never be enough.

“Harry…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, “why did you drink so much tonight?”

If your obliviousness hadn’t been so devastating, he would have laughed. How could you sit here with him, look into his eyes, and not see that his heart was entirely in your hands? How could he explain anything to you if you hadn’t already seen it?

So he wouldn’t try. Not right now.

He mustered up the strength to push up onto his knees, managing to stand up fully with your steady grip on his arms. He took one shaky step as his head spun, and felt your arms snake around his waist to keep him balanced. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of having you so close as you helped him out of the toilet.

You brought him to a stop in the main room by the bar, and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the top of your head. You smelled just like you always did. It had only been a few nights, but your scent was already fading on his bedsheets.

“Y’smell like lavender,” he hummed, squeezing your arm lightly, “s’like you’re tryin; t’torture me…. So pretty.”

It really was torture, having you hold onto him as you both walked out of the pub. You were distracting, with your warm skin and soft hands. Each step was difficult; his feet were heavy as anvils and he just wanted to curl up right here on the sidewalk.

Just as he was considering plopping down on the pavement, he heard the familiar beep of your car opening. He closed his eyes once he was sat in the passenger seat, feeling you fuss over his seatbelt. He flinched slightly when you slid a cold water bottle between his knees.

Harry blinked, and then suddenly you were buckled in behind the steering wheel, poking his arm and peering at him with tired eyes. “Can you stay awake for me, H? Just till we get to your house, okay?”

“Y’coming to my house?”

You were so good to him, all the time. By the looks of your attire, you were ready to be in bed hours ago, yet here you were, patient as ever.

“Yes, I’m taking you home,” you said through a yawn.

“Miss having you at my house,” Harry exhaled. He didn’t even know what he was saying really, just the same thoughts and memories circling through his mind like planets around the sun, all them centered on you. “My sheets don’t smell like you anymore.”

Suddenly, he felt hot all over. His trousers were too scratchy against his skin, his palms felt clammy, and the longer you stayed silent on the other side of the car, his stomach started turning. In an effort to cool off and calm down, he let his head fall against the window, the cool glass soothing his skin.

Drunk or not, he was trying to tell you how he feels, he was constantly trying to tell you how he feels… and you didn’t say a word. You never did. It was so frustrating that he found himself biting back tears.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you cleared your throat. “You can’t…” your voice cracked, “you can’t say things like that, Harry. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Harry managed to say. “But it’s the truth.”

He was so confused. How on earth could you be hurting when he was sitting here with his arms wide open? Was he so repulsive that the mere thought of being with him caused you pain, somehow?

He was too drunk for this.

Luckily, you seemed to be on the wavelength. “Let’s just… not talk,” you said, shoulders slumped.

Harry was feeling awfully dejected himself. He’d spent the last few days trying to cope with his complicated feelings, and now he was back at square one. Every time he thought he knew where the two of you stood, you would say something vague and he would start all over. Your relationship was like a house of cards; delicate, fragile, and knocked to the ground with the slightest shift, the tiniest gust of wind.

The headache started out small, but by the time you pulled your car into Harry’s driveway, he was feeling like he might keel over. Somehow, he was simultaneously drunk and hungover. If he was going to make it up the stairs to his room, he was going to need something in his stomach, and water that wasn’t from a pub bathroom.

It was humiliating enough that he’d needed you to help him from the car, but upon entering his house, he nearly kicked his shoe through the living room window, grumbling about toast. He knew he’d been less than impressive tonight, but perhaps this was what you needed -- seeing him at rock bottom -- to finally open up and have a real conversation about what you could be.

When he woke up in the morning, he would be sober, and he would be ready. He would make you coffee like he always does, and maybe he’d even run out and pick up fresh pastries.

“Want some toast,” he said, though he was fairly certain he’d said it once already.

You were standing in front of him, toes just inches apart, and it felt instinctive to place his hands on your waist and pull you in. The silk pajama top you were wearing was cool against his hands, but he could feel the heat of your skin underneath, the frantic thumping of your heart against your ribcage tickling his fingertips.

Your hands were on his shoulders to keep him steady, but he was suddenly feeling more sober than he had all night. All day, really.

Harry slid his hands further behind you, locking together behind your back. Having you close felt incredible. It hadn’t even been three days since he last saw you, yet every atom in his body was craving your touch.

“You, um,” he felt your shaky whale against his collar bone, “you have to let go of me if you want me to make you toast.”

Letting go of you felt physically impossible, so instead, Harry dipped his head down and rested his forehead against yours. The anticipation was excruciating as he waited for you to do what you always did: sink into his arms, wrap yourself around him, soothe him to sleep with the weight of your head on his chest.

Fissures cracked through his heart when you pushed him back, taking a single step back that may as well have been a mile. Suddenly, the air all around him felt cold, the room felt darker, the silence felt louder. He took a deep breath in, but still felt like he was suffocating.

“Do you really not remember?”

He needed to know. He had done everything in his power to think about anything else, but had somehow ended up here, standing face to face with you. He wonders if this is how it was supposed to be, if throwing you together over and over again was the universe’s ultimate plan, if all of this misery would be worth it in the end.

He’d experienced heartbreak before, but this was something else. And when you choked out, “Harry, please don’t make me say it,” in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, he knew that he could write millions of records about the pain of this moment, and still never do it justice.

“You remember, don’t you?”

All you did was nod your head once, but he suddenly felt drained. Maybe it was the full day of heavy, reckless drinking… or maybe it was the realization that things really might not work out. He still wanted to try, though. Even though you’d left the other day, there were countless other times you had stayed. For months you’d been coming over in secret, coming out of your shell and showing him how amazing you really were. That had to count for something; there had to be a reason.

Coffee. He would make coffee in the morning and the two of you would fix everything.

“Should we head to bed? ‘S getting kind of late, y’must be exhausted.”

You really did look tired, your eyes rimmed with red from yawning over and over, back hunched and shoulders slumped. He was feeling knackered himself, and was more than ready for this night to be over.

“Actually… I think I’m gonna head back home,” you gulped. Harry felt like he’d been slapped, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It’s as if you’d turned to sand; there one moment and slipping through his fingers the next.

“You don’t want to stay?” Harry tried to keep his voice even, but even he could hear how it wavered. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying.

“I just… have to go home,” you said, looking everywhere but at him.

He waited for you to say something else, but instead watched as you hoisted your purse further up onto your shoulder and walked out the door. Shell shocked, he stood there frozen, even as your headlights disappeared down the street.

A long breath blew past his lips as he finally moved to lock his front door, any hope of you walking back through it dashed by the way you’d walked out for a second time.

Harry likely would have benefited from a glass of water and pain medication, but with a buzzing brain and a shattered heart, all he could manage was to pass out on the couch fully clothed, dreaming about what might have been if you had just stayed.

~~~

As always, let me know what you think! I love talking to you <3 xoxoxoxox Tile

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exquisitley-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Fiancés, Firebirds, Foxes and Fawns: 6

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn’s attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain’s father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elain x Lucien, Elucien

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’ve added a tag list for those who wish to stay updated with this story! Just message me if you wish to be added <3

MY MASTERLIST

THIS FIC’S MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Six: Moonlight Meetings

The contracts were beginning to make sense. Turns out, there weren’t nearly as many for Elain to sort through as she first expected. It seemed that the Band of Exiles had had a pretty stagnant first year whilst staying in the mortal lands, with their biggest success lying in the Declaration of Peace Between Fae and Mortal Realms achieved on the anniversary of the Hybern War.

Elain had gone through each contract and made a note of it in her own diary: the contract between the Spring Court and the human lands to organise trade routes in the future, the agreement of a ceasefire on trespassing fae in favour of imprisonment, etc. There had even been copies of contracts between other humans that had most likely occurred at these weekly meetings: such as the Nolan’s agreeing to 100 shipments of Ashwood Weaponry per month to the Darlingtons, and the reinforcement of internal borders.

Elain had sat with Nuala and a few pots of tea in the library, and by the time she stretched her legs to take a turn around the room, the sun was plummeting towards the horizon. She liked it. She liked the feeling of her hand aching from her meticulous note-taking, she liked that the pages of her new notebook (a gift from Rhysand) had slowly began to fill up, she liked that she now had detailed questions to ask Jurian, Vassa and maybe even Lucien.

If anything, she liked that tonight she would sleep, her eyes tired from reading by the candlelight and her brain fizzing with the numbers of stock, armies and debt.

The library was at the back of the house, with delicate yet large glass windows that looked out onto the Manor’s Garden. So far, Elain had avoided the grounds, mostly because one look of the greenery told her that there was nothing for her to do. Whoever tended to these gardens had a similar mind to hers, it was wild and restless. A garden belonging to a true cottage, her father would say.

“Lord Lucien is home,” Nuala’s velvet voice swam into the air as she spoke without looking up from her book. The shadow wraith’s always had been Elain’s closest friends, and she liked the side she got to see of them, the one she was sure no other had yet had the privilege.

“Oh…good,” Elain said non-committedly, forcing her eyes back to her notes which she’d already preened to perfection. Sighing, Elain looked over her and Nuala’s make-shift joint desk, and without thinking, she reached for a local map.

It was strange, to look over a map of lands which felt both so familiar and so foreign. With her finger, Elain could trace the path from her first childhood home, the Manor down by the lake, up and up to their runt of a cottage so close to the border, and then a little east to their other home. Elain’s hand recoiled from the paper. That home was cursed. That was the home from which she had been stolen from.

“Do you miss it, being human?” Nuala asked. Elain peered at her. She’d always found the term ‘lesser fae’ to be entirely unbefitting. Nuala was perhaps the most gorgeous person she’d ever seen; her skin was a deep grey and her hair a shifting black in which shadows seemed to fall in whisps as it moved. Her eyes were uncannily wide, and her irises were of purest black and filled her entire lids.

“I don’t think so,” Elain answered softly, her finger running back to that first home. The home in which her parents were alive and well. “But I avoided coming here for a long while because of that reason.”

“You wanted to go back?” Elain nodded, a small shift of her head.

“Becoming fae didn’t make sense to me for a long time. I didn’t understand how to be fae, despite the body. When I looked around all I could see were my sister’s, who fit in so well at the Night Court and I just…didn’t.” Elain looked at her friend. “I feel terrible about it. About how I tried to come back to Graysen. It was the first time in my life I’d made a stand and it was for something so, hollow.”

“You’re not a terrible person for feeling as though you don’t belong, and wishing that you did.” Nuala tilted her head, her pin straight hair falling with a trained precision across her bare shoulder.

“No, but I feel terrible because…I still feel that way, to some extent.” Elain sighed, tucking up her legs on the chair and leaning her head back.

“I got into a fight with Jurian today – I slapped him -” Elain peeked a look at Nuala and was pleased to see her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes bright with amusement. “I know. But what he said was true, and I can’t stop thinking about it. He saw me during the war and saw how I was so desperate to be human again, and he thinks I’m here for that reason-” Nuala opened her mouth to protest, “I know, it’s stupid, but…what if I am here for that reason, and I just don’t realise it yet? Because Nuala, if I am, I can’t – I can’t forgive myself for that, I can’t do that to-”

Elain cut herself off by biting her tongue. She’d only spent a day and a night in Lockhart Manor, but Elain was sure she could feel the bond. Often she didn’t, then every couple of months, something would happen, she would feel some emotion that wasn’t hers or have dreams of places she’d never been to, and she’d just know that it was him. But being here, actually being around him, she felt herself turning towards him the way flowers turn to the sun.

“I don’t think it’s strange, if you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, to want to belong somewhere else,” Nuala spoke carefully, slowly, as though every word carried weight, “But just because you feel you do not belong in the Night Court, does not mean your only other option is the human lands.”

“What? I might belong somewhere else in Prythian?” Nuala stretched and leaned back in her own chair.

“Prythian is a large place, and you have an eternity ahead of you. You do not need to rush in finding somewhere you can settle, travel around for a bit, see the world. There is not the same pressure for you to be a wife as you had when you were human, maybe you could try just being Elain for a while?” Nuala yawned after she spoke, a sign that she was well and truly relaxed. Elain just hummed, her mind whirring as she looked back at the map, her finger drifting back to that last home, the one she had been ripped from.

Just then Elain noticed how the sun and well and truly dipped behind the horizon, casting the world in shadow. The night sky looked unbearably dull compared to the thriving chaos of the Night Court’s evenings, but there was something familiar in the mundanity, something that allowed Elain to be the magical thing in the world, not the other way around.

“Vassa and Jurian are preparing to leave,” Nuala said without opening her eyes.

“Ugh, teach me your ways.” Elain joked, and a sly smile pulled at the shadow wraith’s lips.

“No, because then you won’t need me, and I won’t get to come with you to see the world.” Elain paused, and looked at her friend.

“You’d come with me?” It was now Nuala’s turn to peer at her.

“Of course, don’t tell the High Lord but, since being Under the Mountain, I’ve rather missed the world, and I’d very much like to see it.”

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” Elain shivered. She’d never bene able to truly comprehend what had occurred in those 50 years. The idea of her friend being subject to such atrocities for a time longer than she had been alive, it was unfathomable.

“I remember your mate being there,” Nuala said, tentatively. Every muscle in Elain’s body went rigid. She’d assumed, somewhere along the line, that Lucien must’ve been there with Tamlin when they’d been taken, but Feyre had never confirmed, she’d been surprisingly elusive of the specifics of what had occurred. She couldn’t think about it. Because the instant she considered the torture Lucien must’ve faced, she began to feel herself lose control.

“Speaking of your mate,” Nuala murmured, and Elain didn’t miss the slightly pleased look in her friend’s eye at having gotten a reaction out of her.

Just then a knock came from the door casing Elain to turn in her chair sharply, by the time she turned back, Nuala had already disappeared into the shadows.

“No, but thanks for the offer,” Lucien ground out through his teeth. Waiting on the cartographer had taken all day and it turns out the maps he wanted hadn’t even been done correctly. It had been so much of a waste, that some part of Lucien was grateful he’d managed to send Elain home, he didn’t want her thinking that the extent of his life consisted of pathetically waiting on map-makers who can’t even make the right, damned map.

“Oh come on Luci, it’ll be fun,” Vassa goaded, looking a bit more like herself than she’d been the past few days. Her hair was iridescent, and her gown was of deepest emerald, with golden gemstones that matched the simple, modest tiara upon her head. Lucien snorted.

“Oh yeah…fun. Well you can have fun for me, but I’m not going.”

“You might as well go for the free whiskey. That’s the only reason I’m interested.” Jurian grinned, throwing a far too casual arm over the queen’s shoulders, who huffed a laugh and shook him off.

“No touching Jurian. This dress is worth more than your head.”

“Ooh – not sure about that love.” Jurian grinned back, and Lucien observed the way the two mental mortals bounced off each other.

“Ugh, I don’t know who I feel worse for, you or the Nolan’s.”

“Oh it’s not just the Nolan’s going,” Jurian grinned, “I have it on good authority that Delilah will be there too.”

“Oh, Delilah,” Vassa hummed, twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.

“Shut up the both of you,” Lucien rolled his eyes.

“Well if it doesn’t work out with the mate, just know you have a small army of humans who wouldn’t mind a piece of you,” Jurian chortled.

“Men and women,” Vassa smiled at Jurian, “I heard that Lord Smith wouldn’t mind warming himself by the fireling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I trust you got her home safe then,” Lucien pointed at Jurian, hoping his easy smile covered the anxiety that had been growing over the day as he became convinced that something terrible had happened to Elain now that she’d been removed from sight.

“Oh, the Archeron is home safe alright,” Jurian said in a tone Lucien couldn’t quite read.

“Good…well then, you two bests be off,” Lucien turned back to the house. “Don’t stay out too late kids.”

“Alright dad,” Vassa scoffed.

“Oh and Luci,” Jurian was halfway down the garden path, “Don’t make us regret leaving you home alone with your mate!” He winked at him that time and then he and Vassa were two colourful blurs in the summer evening, their laughter making music with the chirping of cicadas.

Something cold ran the length of Lucien’s spine. He would be home, alone, with Elain, for an entire night.

Fuck.

***

“Come in?”

Elain already knew it was Lucien before his head of fiery hair, now unbound, peered at her from around the door.

“Good evening, Lady, um…may I come in?”

Elain looked at him over the papers she’d randomly grabbed and was now pretending to read. Nuala certainly could have given her a little more warning.

Lucien looked so shy, half standing behind the door, and Elain found all her anger at him having sent her home evaporating. He was just as confused as she was about this whole bond thing, it was something they’d have to figure out together.

Elain gave a small nod and Lucien seemed to let loose a long breath before he walked into the room, turning around to shut the door and then turning to face her. Lucien glowed in daylight, out there in the woods it looked at though the sun were always reaching for him, as though it, like so many others, adored him. But there was something so alluring about Lucien by candlelight. The shadows and the orange light that moved over him, he seemed darker somehow, more dangerous. More intoxicating.

Lucien cleared his throat, standing with his hands held behind his back, and Elain adverted her eyes.

“I’ve come to apologise, Lady.”

“Apologise?” Elain repeated numbly. She hadn’t been expecting this, to her knowledge, men didn’t apologise.

“For how I spoke to you, earlier today…” Lucien seemed to shift slightly, “It was entirely unreasonably for me to send you home when you wished the know the way. I got spooked with the trap and, and-”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Elain smiled at him, setting the papers down and leaning forward in her chair. Lucien looked bemused.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I, uh…it’s not your fault I got upset, not really. I’m just quite on edge recently,” Elain began to fiddle with the threads of her dress.

“Is something wrong?” Pure concern laced Lucien’s voice as he strode a little further into the room.

“No, just…I think it’s just being around you…” Elain trailed off and Lucien’s eyes widened. Never before had she brought up the mating bond. Not with him.

“Oh, yes, it’s...uh, quite annoying isn’t it.” He grinned easily, and Elain felt something inside her relax.

“Not annoying just…things get to me easier.”

“Yes,” Lucien nodded, “When we’re close to each other the mating bond will be more…demanding. You’ll probably be more aware of it, as I am.”

“You…you feel like this, all the time?” Elain blinked at him, and Lucien shifted awkwardly, he did not want her to pity him.

“You get used to it after a while,” He grinned at her again. Elain quickly became lost in thought and Lucien could practically see her mind working, her eyes becoming distant. He took this moment to look her over, just checking for injuries, of course.

She’d changed her dress; the other one no doubt having being stained with grass and mud. It was a pale yellow, one that he found suited her hair greatly. Layers of skirts and a corset bodice, and with her hair pinned up and away from her face she looked every bit of the goddess he thought her of being.

It was then that his eye caught on the dainty necklace around her throat, a single pearl hanging at its end and…

Mother, that was a low neckline.

A low neckline for Elain of course. But still. The dress allowed him to see the beginning curve of her breasts where that single pearl lay, nestled-

Lucien snapped his eyes away and dug his hands into his pockets, digging his nails into his thighs.

He was sure that by now, Elain could read scents, and he really, really, didn’t want to make this more awkward than it was. Mother, he’d just been talking about how he’d become accustomed to controlling himself. But perhaps the beast within hadn’t been tamed, maybe it was just resting.

As though they’d been called by his arousal, the base mate desires sang through his blood. Touch, smell, taste…The last one was strangely powerful today, but maybe it was because the more time he became familiar with her scent, the more he could imagine what she tasted of. Sweet but in the way fruits are sweet, like his own personal nectar-

“Are you alright?” Elain’s soft voice sung into the air and Lucien realised that he was digging so hard into his thigh that tears had sprung up into his eyes.

“Yes, sorry,” He sniffed before huffing a laugh, “I’m just tired is all.”

“Of…” Elain prompted softly, and for a moment their eyes met and something enigmatic passed between them. “I um,” Elain sprang from her chair and began to gesture, unable to meet his eye. “I was about to go to the kitchen and steal a pot of tea and sit if the garden if you wished to, if you wished to-”

“Yes,” Lucien blinked, and Elain nodded furiously before meeting his eye and giving him a shy smile.

“Lead the way,” Elain said softly, and Lucien felt his heart skip a beat, and from the way Elain’s smile grew, he knew she’d heard it too.

***

Since it was well into the night, Elain and Lucien had to make the tea themselves, Lucien trying not to puff his chest too much when Elain gasped at how he heated the kettle with his fingers.

“It’s about as useful as it gets I’m afraid,” he grinned at her as steam started to pour from the spout.

“Well, being a seer seems far more pointless.” God she looked good in the moonlight.

“I wouldn’t say that…” It seemed that that part of Lucien would always protest at Elain being insulted, even if it were her dishing out the affront. “You knew to find Vassa, your visions before the war were invaluable, we most likely would’ve lost without them.”

Elain poured the tea, her brows furrowed in thought. If they were truly mated, if the union had been accepted, Lucien realised that this was a moment where he’d be able to reach for that bond and feel what she was feeling. He could understand, in a millisecond, what was going on behind those honeyed eyes.

Elain moved to the kitchen’s backdoor, which looked out onto the path leading down to the road which led to town, arching through the gardens. To his surprise she settled in the doorway, tucking her skirts so that they spilled out onto the gravel path.

“What is it?” Lucien prodded, as he settled down next to her, making sure that he was leaning against the left doorframe and that no part of his body was touching hers.

“Compared to the likes of Feyre and Nesta,” Elain began in a dreamy voice, “My powers are pointless; you can’t deny it.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say to that. It was all kinds of wrong. As he thought about how to exactly tell Elain she was quite insane for thinking such a way, he looked out on the moonlit gardens. The sky here was duller than the Night Court, but there was something peaceful in these lands, something innocent. A warm breeze caressed his face, and just as he was about to speak, Elain beat him to it.

“I should’ve been there, tonight, Feyre and Nesta would’ve gone.” Lucien’s hand paused as it carried his tea to his lips. Fury jolted through him.

“I don’t know about that,” Lucien proceeded in sipping his tea, trying to cool the flames within.

“If Feyre could handle seeing Tamlin, then I could’ve handled tonight,” Elain said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Lucien considered what she had said, trying to slow his heartbeat as he thought, especially now that he knew she could hear it.

“Are you so desperate to be like your sisters?” Elain cocked her head at the garden.

“Of course…they’re brave and I…I don’t know, how could I not?” Elain appeared as genuinely confused, and something inside Lucien’s chest ached.

“No offence,” he flashed her an easy grin, one that seemed to tell her that everything was going to be okay, “But I don’t think the world would recover from having another Feyre…and especially not another Nesta.”

“You know what I mean…” Elain huffed, bumping into his shoulder slightly as she flashed him a shy smile, one that made him feel like glowing. “They would’ve gone tonight. They would’ve marched into that manor and sat down in the Nolan’s chair and if Gray so much as looked at them wrong they would’ve burned the house to ashes.”

Lucien ignored Elain’s nickname for her ex-fiancé, and took a moment to cool the raging part of him that sought to seek out the boy and erase him from history. Elain was poking fun at her ex-lover, she was wrinkling her nose and shaking her head, it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. And yet that nickname stood like an island in the stormy ocean, a reminder that at that moment, some unevolved, bastard, human fae-hunter had a firmer place in her heart than he.

“What the hell is the Nolan’s chair?” Lucien asked after a moment, batting the vitriol from his mind.

“Oh,” Elain’s eyes lit up, “It’s some stupid, big Ashwood throne which they have in this weird trophy room, apparently it’s been passed down through generations of fae-hunters. I couldn’t touch it of course because I hadn’t been initiated into the family and that would be sacrilegious or something.” Lucien tipped his head back and huffed a laugh, and Elain felt something inside her sing to answer. She’d noticed Lucien’s beauty more this past day, but that moment right there, had been the loveliest he’d ever been. His eyes shut, his grin wide. He seemed happy. It was beautiful.

“Oh Gods, let me guess, they have it behind some sort of curtain and they do a grand reveal whenever guests come for tea?” Elain blinked at him with those brown saucers.

“Have you visited?!” Both of them titled back and let out genuine laughs, no one to interrupt them but a warm breeze making the plants rustle.

“You know, it’s funny,” Elain sighed, curling her arms around her knees and looking out on the moon-lit shrubbery, “When you stop loving someone, it’s almost like you see them for the first time.” Lucien shifted awkwardly, trying to ease the itching across his skin. He’d never talked so much about the boy before, and it was making his powers sing.

“And what do you see now?”

“I…I can’t say a bad word against him. I don’t know why. I think even if he were standing in front of me right now I would just politely ask him to leave.”

“I think that says more about your character than his.” How could the Cauldron have thought him worthy of this female? In the face of her abuser, she chose pacifism.

“It’s strange because now I guess I see him how everyone else has always seen him. But when I was human…” Elain’s speech faltered and she flashed her eyes to him, “I’m sorry you probably don’t want to hear about this.” Lucien took a deep breath before setting his cup down.

“Elain I…I want to be your friend, and I want to know everything about you. If that includes your weasel of an ex, so be it.”

“Be nice,” Elain half-told him off with a laugh as she reached out and shoved his shoulder. Lucien saw stars.

“When you were human…” Lucien found his voice after a second, and prompted Elain along. She curled her arm back around her knees and her eyes drifted off to some far off place.

“I…I just wanted to be loved, so badly. I wanted a fairy-tale romance and, I don’t know, someone who would want me, you know that kind of romance you only read about in novels where the guy walks into a room and only sees her.” Elain huffed a laugh and Lucien bit his tongue. “I just assumed that it would never happen, not with us falling into poverty, but then, we weren’t in poverty anymore, and Nesta and I were back looking for husbands. Graysen isn’t…special…I know. But I never wanted special, and for a girl who had grown up believing she’d have nothing, what he gave me seemed like the whole world. Things like sneaking out to meet him without a chaperone, or, or, sneaking away from family dinner’s to hide in the gardens. It…it felt like falling in love…”

“When you having nothing,” Lucien began tentatively, “And someone shows you an inch of kindness…well, that becomes invaluable.” Elain hummed softly in agreement.

“I didn’t want much – I’ve never wanted much - but that’s because it always seemed greedy. I just wanted my own garden, and then Graysen promised me 12 acres of land, and he did seem to care for me. Well…at one point he seemed to care.” Elain shivered, and that age-old anger flashed in his eye. He didn’t know what Graysen had said to Elain when she’d come to the Noland Manor during the war, but by the way the entire Inner Circle seemed one bad day away from cleaving the boy’s balls from his body, he got the idea.

“Now that I can see him clearly, and I can see all the terrible things he did and said, to me and…and about me…” Elain turned to look at Lucien and found him already looking at her, his expression soft, but something made of steel in his eyes, “It’s easy to not love someone when you don’t like them, but I am afraid.”

“Of…” Lucien said gently, his voice as soft as the wind in the leaves.

“How can I…” she was looking at him directly now, “How can I do it again,” she whispered in a voice that reminded him of a petal. “I was so blinded by love; how can I trust myself? You know, sometimes it feels like I’ve felt enough heartbreak to fill several lifetimes.”

Lucien surprised himself by huffing a soft laugh.

“I know how you feel. But that’s the thing about being immortal. They say time heals all wounds, and it does. But most of us, and I suppose particularly humans, don’t get the chance to wait out our pain. But being fae, well, you’re convinced you’ll never get over it until one day you wake up and, you just are.”

Elain had never heard him speak for so long before, and she realised she could’ve sat here and listened to him talk all night. There was an aged wisdom behind his words, like a promise that everything was going to be alright. A small silence settled on the two as they both looked up at the moon, glowing like an eye of the Mother, winking with contentment.

“Graysen is a bastard isn’t he.” Lucien laughed, loud and brashly, and even though it was nearly midnight, Elain was sure he’d momentarily lit up the world.

“No comment,” Lucien held his palms up to face her to show his pacifism.

“Oh come on, you must not like him if you’re sitting here with me rather out there at the Nolan’s sipping, oh, coffee liquors.” Lucien wrinkled his nose.

“Gods, they sound awful.”

“Oh. They are,” Elain moaned with a smile. Then she peered at him again, “You’ve really never been.” Lucien shifted slightly, sitting a little straighter.

“Yes I, uh, I hope that wasn’t an intrusion or-”

“No, no!” Elain rushed, before sighing heavily as she bit her lip in thought. Lucien’s eyes, one metal one fae, roved over her. Oh how he wished to know her thoughts.

Then, Elain was reaching out for him, putting her small hand on his shoulder and looking up at him with those dark, sultry eyes.

“Thank you…for having my back,” she practically whispered. But Lucien wasn’t quite sure he’d heard her given that his entire focus had been zeroed onto that single palm pressed against his shoulder, how he could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin linen of his shirt.

“I…no problem, Lady…It’s no problem at all.” Elain smiled at him softly, but her hand stayed where it was.

Lucien wondered if she felt it too. The electricity that was flowing through his blood. The bond that seemed to glow from between his ribs, buzzing with contentment at their contact. He wondered if she felt the squeeze in her chest – the possibility that this wasn’t just a bond at all.

Suddenly, voices from the hall erupted into life. Brash singing, and a cackling laugh that startled Elain enough for her hand to lift from his shoulder, before she slowly pulled it back in her lap. Lucien was dangerously close to running into the hall and carrying both his friends back out into the garden and dumping them in the flower beds.

He’d had two stolen moments with Elain today, and the secret seemed to lie in their solidarity from the rest of the world. Sighing Lucien leaned back on his hands.

“It seems that Jurian and Vassa have made it home.”

Tag List:

@ladyelain @chloepereyra @exiledelain @bow-dawn

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bangtanlalaland · 4 years

Text

together | ksj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ you encounter the world’s most handsome man, who’s also the richest, only to discover that he’s your long-lost childhood friend.

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1920′s!au; friends to lovers!au

⇢pairing: millionaire!kim seokjin x textile worker!female reader

⇢genre: angst, fluff, smut

⇢word count: 3.9k+

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: somewhat inspired by the great gatsby, some plots twists in here (have your popcorn ready plz), mentions of pining, soft love making in this, some sad stuff (sorryyyy, just adds to the drama), a splash of 1920′s slang (i tried ok)

a/n: just a reminder you guys, in case you’re wondering or expecting this, I am not basing this story entirely off of what happened in the great gatsby so plz don’t come after me. as stated above, this fic is somewhat inspired by the novel. I’d also like to add that most of the events taking place in this story is like a re-enactment of my own personal experiences, therefore this one is a little personal for me, but I am glad to have this chance to share it with you all. anyways, hope you all enjoy!

song rec: “together” by the xx

glossary

big shot—someone of high status/great popularity

bimbo—tough guy

bootlegging—illegal distribution of alcohol

cash or check—to kiss someone now or later

gay—happy (no connection to homosexuality)

jane—a female

jitney—a small bus that costs 5¢

nookie—sex

quiff—a slut

speakeasy—an underground bar (usually involves illegal distribution and/or selling of alcohol)

wingding—a lively celebration or party

Everything was planned. And you should have known this—that it was all an act/a gimmick. The fame, the money, the chivalry. And it didn’t get you anywhere but strung out on coffee and cigarettes—paired with a broken heart. Part of you wanted to blame your friend Betty for even dragging you to that pointless wingding, and then another part of you wanted to blame yourself for letting your guard down. The moment you saw his stupid, handsome face, you should have just walked away. You should have ended whatever was to come, right then and there.

But, you didn’t.

Instead, you chose to wind up in his bed and smothered by his arms. You chose to let yourself go, because at one point in your life, he was someone you trusted. The never-ending ache in your chest weighs upon you as if you’re carrying a rock that’s the size of New York state. You continuously tell yourself: You should have left. You should have said no. You should have just walked away.

Maybe if you said no, would he have ended up in your life some other way? Would you have been happier than you were during those moments with him? Could you even truly say you regret those experiences, even though at that moment it was exactly what you wanted? The past few weeks, you’d driven yourself mad, contemplating and replaying scenarios within your mind to re-arrange the pieces to the puzzle.

But, you end up with nothing.

You can’t think. You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. You can’t do anything without seeing him. Feeling him. Hearing him. And even smelling him. It’s as if he lingers in the spirit—like a ghost, haunting you every waking second of the day. Except, you know nothing about ghosts and how to rid of them.

And the memories…

You can’t forget the times when life was oh so simple—when you knew who he used to be, the he you grew fond of and loved with every fiber in your being. You can’t get over those shiny, gold, silky sheets you had become accustomed to lace yourself in, wrapped within his embrace. Both of your bare bodies glued together by perspiration, and those deep-chocolate irises that make you crumble under his gaze. Especially when he’d whisper to you with that voice of his dipped in comfort and say,

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more happier in my life.”

However, it’s too late. You tell yourself that it’s over, and there is no going back. Ever.

five months earlier

You wiped away the perspiration, on your forehead, with the back of your hand. As people say, “Another day, another dollar.” Literally. You’re only paid 16 cents/hr for your work at the town’s local textile factory. Your hands often find themselves cracked and dried by the end of your shift. It’s the roaring 20′s and everything was booming. Well, at least for everyone else except you.

“Oh, Betty! I told you already I don’t ‘party’.” You whined, while clutching your purse to head beeline out of the factory.

“You’re telling me that a doll like yourself doesn’t ‘party’ during this Jazz Age?” Your blonde-haired co-worker scoffed with a laugh. “Surely, you ought to be ashamed!”

Your mouth flew agape at her audacity, “Well-” You attempted to muster up a comeback, “Well- speakeasy’s are not even legal!”

Betty added, “Oh, you’re no fun! You know that?” You giggled at her frustrated expression since she seemed so conflicted.

“I know. Which is probably why a man would never want me.” Betty stopped you in your tracks, placing her hand over your arm.

“Oh, nonsense! You’re a doll and you know it.” She contemplated for a moment, “You just need some… opening up is all!”

You nodded in reply, “I suppose so.” Betty’s face lit up as if an idea popped up in that wild brain of hers, “How about this?” She gripped onto you tighter. “Why don’t you join me this weekend at Mr. Worldwide Handsome’s wingding!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t think you understand what “partying” means, when I say I do-”

“Now, now wait! Before you say no, it’s not what you think.” She reassured with a beaming smile.

“Who is this Mr. Worldwide Handsome?” You questioned, finally reaching the bus stop to catch a jitney.

Betty hesitated for a moment, “Why I don’t know. Well, I don’t think anyone knows.” You scoffed at her coy way of attempting to convince you.

“Oh, that’s just nonsense, Betty! If this is your way of trying to get me to go with you to that party- then, you’re doing quite an awful job at it.”

Betty rolled her eyes at you, “____, you’ve got it all wrong! I promise. It’s not what you think. It’s just a place where you can be yourself. He holds these gatherings every weekend and it’s so… lively! You can be free and… gay!”

—

You nervously stepped out of the automobile, as you and Betty were dropped off outside of the grand mansion where dozens if not hundreds of people gathered within the entrance of the establishment. Flappers and big shots roamed the premises.

“Why did I let you persuade me into coming here?” You whispered to Betty who had her arm interlinked with yours. You plastered a fake smile amongst the guests. Betty was dressed in a mini, black dress with sparkling fringes, a deep red lipstick adding an extra pop to her porcelain skin.

She cooed back at you, “Because you are my friend, and I was not going to take no for an answer.” As you relayed to your friend earlier in the week, you weren’t one of those “party girls” or “flappers” as they call it.

Seokjin roamed about his mansion, at the top of the stairwell, tapping his feet on the marble flooring below him, sipping on a glass of champagne in his hand. His handsomeness granted numerous glances and coos toward his towering figure. He sported his signature, jet-black mullet that’s slicked back. His white tuxedo glowed effervescently, blinding anyone within his perimeter. Plush, pink lips decorated his dashing face.

He busied himself in obtaining another glass of champagne as another server passed by. But when he turned away to face the entrance of the palace, his heart dropped, his lips parted distinctively, tongue sliding along the bottom of his lip. It’s as if everything and everyone around him had stopped, whilst his almond-shaped eyes landed on a Jane that he grew to be familiar with many years ago—two decades to be exact.

Ever since you both departed, he wanted desperately to find you again just as you did. He missed you, and you missed him, and there hadn’t been a day that passed when you didn’t cross his mind. You both grew up in the same quaint town, but then Jin’s family moved to the big city and that was when everything changed.

You both drifted apart, and it was now a good twenty years later that you both finally crossed paths. But see, that was only part of the plan. Seokjin hosted these grand parties, and spread the word throughout the entire city to fuck his way out of a heartbreak he thought was silly to have. He treasured the attention and the numerous dolls flaunting themselves at him—that eventually he’d forgotten all about you.

It was something about big gatherings, quite like these that made your insides churn. A sense of anxiety resided within you when being in the presence of countless individuals. You felt like all of their gazes were solely focused on you; you’d never been a fan of attention. Although, you were unaware this party would change your life.

Drastically.

You desperately attempted to shake off your anxiousness, scanning the environment for anything or something you could do or use as an escape. And then…

Champagne.

Perfect. You thought to yourself, hurriedly scurrying toward the server, grabbing a glass filled with fizzing liquor.

“Thank you,” You noted with a smile and took a sip, an attempt to calm your nerves. But you still couldn’t shake that feeling, that someone was watching you. And it was as if your worst nightmare had come true, because followed by that feeling, there was a voice. One that was calling your name.

“____?” Your body trembled of chills, and you turned around to discover the voice that was noticeably behind you. When your eyes met the tall, slender form, you nearly dropped your wine glass into shattering pieces.

With a gasp, “Seokjin?” you questioned, placing a hand over your chest where a thumping heart hides from behind. His pupils sparkled with something you thought was admiration, and then he shined those perfect, pearly whites that stole your heart in that moment. You thought to yourself, This is it. He’s the one.

“It’s been so long. Wow, I am speechless.” He stated, with an extended hand, “May I?” He probed, rising his eyebrows. You foolishly lended him your hand, his plump lips pressed a gentle kiss on top.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, curious to understand how the universe joined you both together in this moment.

“Follow me,” was all he said. He lead you through the bustling crowd, and into his office. He removed the jacket of his tuxedo while you admired the maroon-tinted walls paired with large bookshelves and persian rugs decorated the space—modern art pieces adding an extra touch. One in particular stood out to you, in which Jin noticed your stare didn’t break away.

“Edward Hopper’s Automat,” He added, whilst standing beside you and relishing the sight of gorgeous pearls that decorated your neckline—thanks to Betty. He was stunned at the beautiful woman you blossomed into. Considering that the last memory he had of you, was when he’d been taken away in a locomobile, and there you stood at the end of the dirt road—with puffy, wet eyes as you cried out his name, begging him to not leave. And so did he, as he waved you goodbye and tears streamed down his cheeks. It was when his entire world fell apart.

Jin lost himself for a moment, reminiscing on the past. “Seokjin?” You said for now the third time, an attempt to get his attention.

“Yes? I- My apologies,” he replied. You shook it off with a giggle, a warmth having filled up your heart. “No need to worry.” You dropped your head low, as a flash of heat washed upon your face, and suddenly you felt shy.

You felt the cool embrace from Jin’s palm on your back, and when you looked up to meet his gaze, he was already staring at you.

With a sigh of relief, he slipped, “I’ve missed you, ____.” You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug, and he smelt of the liquor he’d been dousing himself in, paired with a tantalizing scent of cologne, notes of bergamot, tangerine and a hint of fruity persimmon. As you pull away, you peer into each other’s eyes, his slender fingers graze underneath your chin and you both lock lips with one another—his own tasted of the wine they’d been soaked in from earlier. The amount of desire drowned by your kisses sent a wave of heat through the both of you, and before you could think of pulling away to catch your own breath, Jin pulled away, his fingers lacing into yours to lead you toward the master bedroom.

“I missed you too,” you replied, maybe a little too late, but you still made him smile. His hands found purchase on your small back, “I can’t believe that you’re finally here. I don’t think I’ve ever been more happier in my life.” You caressed his broad shoulders, admiring how he towered over you. Oh how handsome he’d become, you thought.

It was as if both of you read each other’s minds, an unspoken tension between the two of you—like gravity pulled you two together, your actions in tune with each other. He laid on top of you, caressing your body and placing gentle kisses along your jawline and onto your collarbone. His silky sheets felt like bliss under your now scorching skin.

“Seokjin,” You moaned. His fingers found the zipper on the side of your dress, and he removed his bow tie and waistcoat, while undressing himself completely. He gently pulled the delicate material of your dress down and off your body.

“So beautiful,” He slipped, while trailing kisses along your leg and worshiping your body as if he was truly in love with you—especially when he entered you and buried himself to the hilt.

He was your first and he knew this. When you slipped, “I’ve never- Oh!” He simply caressed your cheek and planted kisses onto your now swollen lips, drips of sweat clinging on his forehead, your hands grazing along his back—the heels of your feet digging into his bottom. You couldn’t get the rest of your sentence out, the feeling of his member too much for your being, but there was this nostalgic sentiment that followed afterwards—a drawn out moan muffled by kisses.

“You’re saying that a Jane like you hasn’t had any nookie? Ever?” He chimed in with a chuckle. You slapped his arm in reply, “Well, don’t make fun of me now!”

But instead, you both broke out into a laughter, having completely forgotten about the party that continued on just one floor below.

“You feel so amazing,” Jin moaned, thrusting his hips into your core, your walls clenched relentlessly around him and it made his cock throb. Leaks of pre-cum oozed into you paired with your own wetness, soaking his shaft completely.

“Oh, Please don’t stop!” He picked up the pace and rammed into you, losing control of himself, so much that the headboard knocked against the wall in a beat-making manner. “Don’t stop! Yes, yes!” You egged him on, fueling his hunger.

“You’re such a doll, you know that?” He slipped between breaths. Your being now glued to the sheets from the sweat that accumulated.

He eventually slowed his momentum as an orgasm shortly approached. Your walls contracted around him repeatedly, and you were instantly drowned in euphoria. You hadn’t processed that Jin’s fingers were rubbing your clit furiously, making your orgasm crash upon you. And right after, you felt the warmth of his semen painting your walls—his bedroom now filled with the harmony of your moans.

Seokjin fell beside you on the bed, his chest rising and falling.

“That was amazing,” He slipped in between breaths. But to his surprise, you’d risen from the bed to re-dress yourself.

“Hey…” He hopped up on his feet, his flaccid cock jumping in the process. “Where you going?” He asked, grabbing your wrist.

“I-I shouldn’t keep Betty waiting…” You trailed off, his eyebrows quirked upwards. “She’s my friend. I came with her tonight.” His strong grip pulled you closer toward him; his fingers caressed your face.

“When will I see you again?” He asked, his grip on you becoming tighter. You shrugged your shoulders, because you weren’t sure when you’d see him again or if you’d have the chance to. Some part of you had hope because you know where he lives now, and you know he’s not far away and out of reach.

When you attempted to pull away, he pulled you back again, “Cash or check?” You contemplated a few moments, and with a tilt of your head, you tiptoed to give him a quick peck.

But it all just felt like a dream. One that you didn’t know would come crashing down. Because that’s all you can remember now. His sheets, his face, his voice, his length, and his scent—everything was Seokjin.

—

You came back and more than once. But the next few times, you came alone. It became a routine, almost. You’d join him during the night, and the two of you would escape into the part of his mansion where no one was around—everyone else having occupied the lower level and the courtyard. He’d always bring you to his bedroom, never letting you out in public together. You should have known that was a sign.

Anytime you both were together, you were alone. Because truth is, Seokjin was embarrassed. He held a high status and couldn’t be seen with someone like you. That’s what he told himself. He thought you wouldn’t have come back after the first night, but then you proved him wrong. And he wasn’t going to turn down free sex, especially since you were inexperienced—which gave him more power in the bedroom. He simply went with the flow, taking you as you gave to him.

Yet, you didn’t understand any of it. Especially when one night you took the lead, riding him with your breasts on full display. He moaned your name repeatedly and admitted, “I love you, ____.” And you fell for it, you actually believed him, with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. You were both wrapped up in the moment, your feels at their maximum. Except, you meant it when you replied, “I love you too, Seokjin.” That was the difference.

But one night, he slipped.

You paraded through his estate during one of his parties, brushing past numerous guests and bumping into some, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. He’d normally await for your arrival at the top of the stairwell, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the courtyard or the balcony or the pool. Your heart thumped with a never-ending beat, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling.

Eventually, you found yourself entering the room that you remember oh so well, and you wished you hadn’t. The sight you witnessed sent a burning ache within your chest. Moans and groans filled the atmosphere as you neared the bed that contained those golden sheets you’d become familiar with. To say you were horrified was an understatement. Jin was plunging into another woman while another woman sat on the other woman’s face, a sudden churn of your stomach ascended—you felt as though everything you consumed that day would come right back up.

“S-Seokjin?” You let out, and he abruptly stopped his motions, snapping his gaze toward you. His eyes blown wide and lips parted.

“Fuck!” He spilled, stumbling out of the woman he was in. You turned away, heading beeline for the door. He quickly found his grip on you, and you fought him off, pushing him away and continuously slapping him away.

“How could you? How?!” You screamed. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoed throughout the palace, as you strutted out and never looked back.

He knew that he fucked up, because truth is, he didn��t even know what he really wanted—but he knew he was selfish. He continued hosting more wingdings, and he never stopped screwing more women. He convinced himself that you were just another Jane he checked off his “To do” list. Because that’s who Seokjin had become. He was no longer that sweet, innocent little boy you once knew. He was no longer your only best friend that you could trust. He was no longer who you thought he was.

—

After receiving the test results from your doctor, that’s when everything sunk in, and you made a promise to yourself that you’d eliminate the abuse of caffeine and tobacco you’d taken within your diet. Although somehow, someway, Seokjin found out that you were pregnant (more than likely it was Betty who told him at his still ongoing wingdings, since you spilled who Mr. Worldwide Handsome is), and he had the guts to show himself at your workplace. He paraded through the establishment, calling out your name. To your embarrassment, you remained at your station, internally cursing yourself for having gotten involved with him.

“____!” He raged, searching for your tired figure. You let out a sigh of exhaustion. And there he stood, with creased slacks in his million-dollar man attire, but his gaze was only focused on you.

“____, we need to talk.” He reassured to you, but too loud for prying eyes nearby. You swiped away the sweat that clung to your forehead.

“Well, I am working. How dare you barge in like this as if you have the right?” You retort with a hint of rage in your tone.

He took a deep breath, not wanting to hear it from you. “Listen, I didn’t come to cause any trouble, alright? We need to talk about my baby.”

You scoffed in reply, “Your baby?” His eyes widen slightly, “I am the one carrying our child! This is our baby, not just yours!” He ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner.

“Last I remember, you were too busy having nookie with those quiff’s who were in the same bed you had knocked me up!” Your chest heaves of anger, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“You can’t just show up here like you’re this-this- bimbo! Because you’re not!” You hadn’t even realized you’d been yelling the entire time, gaining the attention from your nearby co-workers—who attentively watch your riled up figure, courtesy of your hormones.

Jin attempted to speak, “____, I’m-” but then you cut him off, tiredly yelling, “Beat it, Jin!”

His face instantly contorted into an expression you didn’t like to witness. It was a face of pure defeat. His jaw clenched under your stare, but he turned the other cheek and strutted away. You can’t say you felt sorry for him or embarrassed that you called him out because deep down, you knew that he brought everything upon himself.

—

You had a baby girl, and the moment you met eyes with her, was when you promised yourself you would climb mountains, swim oceans, and fight any battle to protect and love her the correct way—because she is you and you are her. The first two months were tough, yet Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Betty had been there for you through every step of the way, and you were beyond grateful for that. Although, you felt guilty for not letting Seokjin see his daughter, because after all she is still yours and his child. You asked Betty to accompany you to his mansion, where you had hoped to encounter him—but to no avail, you turned up with nothing. The entire palace was abandoned, like a wasteland. No automobiles, no servants, no Jane’s, no Seokjin.

A few days later on your way home from work, you overheard a few pedestrians gossiping about him. “Mr. Worldwide Handsome? I can’t believe it! Is it true? That he’s really on the run?” One of them says, the other woman replies, “Look, it’s in the paper!” Your eyebrows furrow on the spot.

“Pardon me. Can I see that?” You probe, pointing to the newspaper the two ladies were observing, and surely they were right. His photo was in the daily paper, with the headline of the name of Mr. Worldwide Handsome. He was wanted for bootlegging. He never told you who he really was, all he mentioned to you was that he was indeed Mr. Worldwide Handsome, but never confided in you about his supposed work.

Now he was gone, and you had a feeling that he was never coming back, because the first night when you two were reunited, it was in that moment, just as he’d practiced with numerous other women for years—Seokjin had one goal in mind:

To get her.

#bts smut #jin smut #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #mikrogalaxynet #ficswithluv #kim seokjin #bts fluff #jin fluff

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luki-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Helluva Boss Theory: Why Blitzo and Verosika Broke Up

Okay, so I fell hard and fast for Vivziepop’s Helluva Boss a few weeks ago, and my brain just can’t help churning out theories and possible backstories.

And while my opinions on episode three are...mixed, I did start to try and theorise exactly how Verosika and Blitz got together and subsequently broke up while using crumbs from the handful of episodes we have to study.

First off, it’s hard to say who broke up with who – what we know about the relationship is limited to one conversation. Whether Blitzo’s horse riding antics was the break up event or just something he did during the relationship is up in the air, but if we assume it was the breaking point, here’s my working theory on what happened:

Fact: The two of them were together for a while. Blitzo admits they were dating, so it clearly wasn’t just a sex thing, and Verosika mentions Blitzo’s sister and rehab. Given that she could have made a joke about Blitzo going into rehab with the washed up loser comment, it’s safe to assume she’s talking about something that actually happened that he might be hurt by – so I’m guessing they probably got together when Blitzo was still working at the circus with Barbie Wire.

(Some other posts have noted that it looks like Tilla has been erased and the poster is advertising the Imp Twins rather than siblings now, so most likely Barbie Wire).

Perhaps Verosika was also working at the circus (given Robo-Fizz, singers could definitely be a thing in Hell-Circus, they certainly used to be once upon a time) and that’s how they hooked up. It definitely happened some time ago though, since Loona doesn’t know about the relationship, so the timeline could fit.

(Also, she refers to Blitz as Blitzo, and unlike Robo-Fizz, he never even tries to correct her, suggesting that she doesn’t know he’s changed the pronunciation and Blitz doesn’t see the point in giving her extra ammo. Or she’s just being petty. Probably just petty).

Anyway, while they were dating, Barbie Wire decided to try and go solo. Now, it could also have been Blitzo who wanted to go solo, but given how lonely he comes across and a lot of his issues, I suspect someone broke his trust first, so maybe Barbie Wire felt he was holding her back and cut ties, resulting in him trying to make it himself as well to prove he didn’t need her either.

Whatever the reason, both twins try and make it solo. Barbie has more success, though eventually crashes and gets to the point where she needs rehab, but Blitzo ends up losing star billing and eventually gets replaced by Robo-Fizz.

Around this time, Verosika also gets signed, and things are becoming better for her too. This starts to irritate Blitzo, and subconsciously starts thinking Verosika is going to dump him in order to achieve success too.

In addition, Blitzo has a very ‘what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine’ mentality when it comes to finances. In the pilot Moxxie says he blew all their salaries – money he should never have access to in the first place – on the advert. Probably because he sees it as something that could help all of them, and therefore it’s fine to spend it since they’re ‘family.’ He had to get that mindset from somewhere – so maybe when he was in the circus, they had a very communal money pit. He and his family shared their finances, and that means he doesn’t really see Verosika’s money as ‘her’ money so much as ‘their’ money.

And eventually, between Barbie’s abandonment, his own failures, and Verosika’s rising success, when they go to a hotel to celebrate some major achievement, Blitzo decides he deserves to have a fun day too, so grabs Verosika’s card, ‘borrows’ her car and heads off to a horse ranch in Wrath to play with horses.

Understandably, Verosika is incensed when she wakes up alone with her cash and wheels gone. By the time she tracks Blitzo down, she’s utterly enraged. Worse still, Blitzo doesn’t understand why. As far as he’s concerned, he didn’t do anything wrong – it’s not like ‘they’ can’t afford it. Verosika, pissed off that he doesn’t seem to get it, makes it clear that if he doesn’t try to understand what he did wrong and won’t apologise, they’re through.

It’s probably just meant to be a threat, in the hopes that Blitzo will apologise and make amends. However, Blitzo just sees that as confirmation of everything he’s been thinking. If she really loved him, she wouldn’t care about a ‘little’ splurge like this. Verosika is cutting him off because she doesn’t need him any more. He’s not ‘family’ to her, and she’s throwing him away, so he calls the bluff, and the two get into a giant screaming match resulting in the two of them breaking up for good.

Because Blitzo can’t communicate to save his life, he threw away what was probably the strongest and most supportive relationship he had at the time. And Verosika walked away thinking someone she loved enough to tattoo his name on her body was just using her for his own benefit.

Now why do I think this?

Because while Blitzo appears to hate Verosika (although I will admit, given his relationship with Stolas, and to an extent, Moxxie, It’s hard to tell if that’s genuine or not), Verosika is clearly not over Blitzo. She’s the one accusing Blitzo of things, while Blitzo doesn’t defend or apologise – just scoff that she’s still whining about it – but let’s look at the big picture.

1. She has a tattoo of his name scored out. She could have done a Millie and blacked out the heart entirely, but no – she wanted people to see it, probably so she can talk and vent about it. Possibly even to remind herself of her foolish mistake.

2. She’s a pop star working freelance for a succubus company in the same building as IMP. Except...IMP rents out of a condemned building in Imp City, which is inhabited mostly by imps. Even the most successful business in that building is going to be struggling – let alone one run by succubi/incubi. Surely there are succubus companies in the Lust ring that are far more profitable and would offer a celebrity like her far more financially and publicly. So, when she saw the IMP advert, she clearly went looking to see if there was a company in that building she could work with.

3. She’s coming in for a week, but rents out the other side of the floor because there’s not enough room on the floor that’s already rented? Yeah, no – she wanted to be in his face.

4. The fact that the parking spot was sprayed over and the sign was waiting before she arrived, means she told the company about Blitzo – and given some of IMP’s antics in the building (fire anyone?), they were probably delighted to help her screw over her ex.

I don’t think she wants him back, but I do think she wants him to regret letting her go. She wants to show off her success and take what little he has and bring him to his knees. She knows exactly how to make him jump to her tune – I mean, in a rational world, the demon duel would have inevitably ended up in Verosika’s favour, and we don’t know what she would have won if she succeeded. I’m willing to bet it would have been something pretty demeaning for Blitzo, and begun a week of karmic victory for her.

But, she screws up with the Beelzebub juice, gets trapped into a corner, and has to give Blitzo back the one thing she had over his head. Rendering any plan she had for the rest of the week worthless, because he’ll be lording that damn spot whenever she opens her mouth.

(It would not surprise me if - after Verosika tried to piss him off again later that week, he called up Stolas, put him on speaker, told him they were going to have passionate fornication in his parking space tonight, and let Big Bird’s mouth do the rest).

Not that it really would have solved anything, because neither of them really understand why they broke up in the first place, so revenge and victory doesn’t really matter. All tormenting Blitzo would have done is convince him that he was right, and his refusal to break would have just aggravated Verosika’s need for revenge even further.

#Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss spoilers #spoilers #not fanfiction #I'm way too invested in Blitzo's backstory at this point #Blitzo #Verosika Mayday #Had to repost cause I posted on the wrong Tumblr last night #helluva boss theory

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johnny-and-dora · 4 years

Note

mini fic maybe? jake and amy and bringing their baby to the precinct for the first time

so funny story….you see my brain said mini fic but apparently my heart said 1000 words so anyway here’s wonderwall x-

Jake’s spent a significant amount of time in his life waiting for the elevator doors of the 99th precinct to slide open.

He remembers stealing glances at it for hours after Holt and Gina left for the PR department, trying to ignore the hollow sort of stuttering in his chest, half-hoping for this all to be some kind of elaborate prank or set-up for a heist that was still months away. He remembers fixating on it while some awful all-consuming fear fizzed uncomfortably under his skin, clenching his fists, trying to convince himself that Rosa would be okay.

All sorts of strange, exciting, terrifying, wonderful people have entered and left this part of his life through that elevator. Criminals and colleagues, friends and family alike. In fact, if he turns in his chair and glances at those doors now (for probably the fortieth time in the past five minutes), he will see the exact spot where, almost a decade ago, he first met his wife.

The thought makes him smile, and then compulsively check his phone again. Amy hasn’t read his last message, a simple thumbs-up followed by three yellow heart emojis, but that doesn’t worry him. She’s probably a little preoccupied, or else inevitably held up by her beat cops wanting to see her.

Still, he taps erratically on the desk, thrumming with anxious energy, hoping she’ll be here soon. He’s waited for people to arrive in the precinct before, but never like this. They’ve never been graced by someone so important and special.

He’s watched those elevator doors slide open and shut easily a thousand times in his life, but never has that elevator had the privilege of carrying the two most important human beings in the entire universe.

As if the precinct somehow understands how much of a big deal this is, he’s almost instantly rewarded with a sonorous, familiar ding – Jake whips his head around and meets Amy’s smile, leaping out of his seat to open the bullpen gate for her as she gently wheels the stroller forward towards his desk.

“Hi.” He quickly kisses Amy on the cheek before kneeling down to gently brush his daughter’s dark wild hair out of her face and kiss her on the forehead. “And hello to you, peanut.” She gurgles happily in response, chubby fist reaching out to grab his badge. He grins back up at Amy, eyes liquid and warm. “I missed you both, so much.”

“We missed you too.” She says softly – he’s been back at work all week, but he doesn’t think leaving them in the morning will ever get easier. Holt graciously granting him this afternoon off and Amy’s idea to meet him at the precinct has been the only thing getting him through the endless monotony of processing and paperwork today.

“So what do you think, kiddo? This is where mom and dad catch bad guys all day. Pretty cool, huh?” Jake asks – he gets another gurgle in response, which he’s presuming is either an affirmative or wind. He’s gonna go with the former.

They’re just about ready to leave when Jake hears a barely contained sob coming from the break room. Charles has tears unabashedly dripping down his face, par for the course with the other times he’s met their baby. Rosa leans against the doorframe, awkwardly patting Charles on the shoulder.

“God, she’s adorable.” Rosa sounds almost sickened at admitting it, but even she, Jake smugly notices, has a soft smile on her face at the sight of her goddaughter. No-one is immune to that smile.

“I know. With my looks and Amy’s brains and also Amy’s looks, she’s going to be unstoppable.” He proclaims proudly, smiling at his wife – she rolls her eyes affectionately.

“C’mon, I want to get to your mom’s before this little one gets hungry again.”

“Your daughter seeing the place where your love fully ripened for the first time? You can’t leave yet! This is a truly magical moment you’ll want to cherish forever!” Charles gushes, hands firmly clasped over his heart. Amy makes a light noise of disgust, probably at his use of the word ripened. Jake, who has been putting up with this all week, simply laughs.

“Sorry, bud. But, y’know, she’s probably gonna see a lot of this place. Plenty of magical moments to come.” He wants to say something dangerously cheesy about how every single moment with his daughter is nothing short of magical, even when she’s screaming bloody murder at 2am or throwing up on his shirt.

But Rosa will probably punch him if she says that, and he doesn’t want to risk Charles going into cardiac arrest. His mom awaits with the promise of lemonade and the chance for him and Amy to nap together while she watches her granddaughter, and that is an opportunity too precious to pass up on.

So instead they say goodbye, Jake slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder as Rosa hugs Amy and practically drags Charles away from the stroller. As the elevator doors slide shut with them inside, they both breathe a sigh of relief, happily cooing at their bright-eyed daughter. Amy rests her head on his shoulder, weary but content – for the first time all day, Jake feels himself really relax. For easily the thousandth time since their little miracle baby came into the world, he marvels at how lucky he is to have such a perfect little family.

They get a whole three hours of blissful uninterrupted sleep together later in his childhood bedroom. And at an ungodly hour the next morning when he’s slumped on the couch, his daughter finally sound asleep on his chest, Jake has to begrudgingly admit that his love is totally ripe.

#so this just fell out of my cavewoman brain thank u emma #moral of the story is i have no self control and i love jake and amy #their daughter is nameless bc i got way too stressed over the pressure of picking a name sorry #b99 #b99 fic #jake x amy #peraltiago #will go up on ao3 at some point but not rn bc I'm Tired #my writing #shut up sian #this was a very effective distraction and i hope it helps <3

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svtxsoju · 4 years

Text

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language ღ Word Count: 4.9k words ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath.

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour.

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word. “What are you even doing up?”

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!”

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.”

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.”

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks-- a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of.

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving).

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it.

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away.

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?”

“A dick. And that’s about it.”

“Damn you, heterosexuality!”

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?”

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for.

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?”

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!”

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?”

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking.

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?”

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist?

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh.

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her.

“What the hell, why are you awake?”

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much. “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.”

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?”

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter.

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.”

① Dear Miss Soju,

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…”

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.”

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend.

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!”

“Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing.

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?).

All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎 ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎 ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.”

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!”

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?”

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said, patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!”

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?”

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter.

“Jeonghan hyung!”

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!”

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?”

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…”

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed.

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot.

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.”

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms.

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all.

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said.

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew.

“At least one of us is doing something right.”

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?”

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses. “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?”

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!”

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—”

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time.

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.”

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still, she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand.

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.”

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!”

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?”

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied.

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her.

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered.

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good?

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts.

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience.

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.”

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.”

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

28 notes · View notes

heartbreak-of-a-marauder · 4 years

Text

Rogue (2)

Title: The Vanishing Girl

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Summary: Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Words: 2020

Note: Thank you to everyone for the immense amount of love for the first part! It blew me away! The taglist is still open, the previous part is linked below:

Part One

y/n = your name ● y/e/c = your eye colour ● y/h/c = your hair colour

<- 2 ->

~*~*~*~*~

Age 15

Fireworks explode overhead, igniting the inky black sky in vibrant patterns of blues, pinks, reds, greens, golds and white. You sit transfixed by their beauty. The detonation created a rumble deep within your chest, some fireworks boom so loud you nearly cover your ears while others fizz as they sparkle. The true majesty of Asgard seems to come alive in the brief moments of light, the water beneath reflects each one perfectly, carrying the colour across its gentle ripples. A tincture of gunpowder travels on the slight breeze, tickling your nose.

Your knees begin to ache, complaining that you’ve been knelt on the scarcely padded window seat for too long. The stone of the windowsill is rough beneath your palms as you wiggle from side to side attempting to find a more comfortable position, your eyes never leave the fantastic display. The fireworks would happen twice a year without fail, and for as long as you could remember, you had sat and watched them. You had no idea why they happened but that never stopped you from looking forward to them.

A myriad of green fireworks cut through the night, dimming the stars, making them seem like they were only a backdrop made to enhance the brilliance of colours. They curved in streaks and lines of green, gold and white growing wider with each blast. A final crescendo echoes deafeningly across Asgard as the display reaches its climax, and just as soon as they had illuminated the sky, they fade to blackness leaving a blanket of smoke to descend on the city below.

You rest back on your heels feeling the way your heart hammered in your chest. Asgard comes back into focus through the smoke, lanterns create a soft glow in the night. From your window seat, you can see the main courtyard glowed brighter than the rest, the ringing in your ears takes a few minutes to dissipate, when it does you’re able to hear the music and laughter that drift from there. They were having a celebration of sorts, glancing to the sky again you wonder if that’s why there were fireworks.

The satin of your dress is creased and your legs are stiff and you manoeuvre off the window seat. Closing your eyes you try and focus on the sound of the gathering. You had never been invited to an occasion like that, they sounded like they were having fun.

Your steps are quiet at you shuffle back towards the workbench, the wood of the stool creaks beneath you as you settle back into your seat. An air of melancholy settles around you as you resume your work. Your mothers’ pestle and mortar sit abandoned across from you, no doubt she had gone to gather more ingredients for the remedy she had been working on. You finger the sprigs of dried lavender that lay forgotten beside you, you had no desire to continue to work on your vial of soothing. Despite having moved away from the window, the sounds of revelry still reached you, calling to you, making you less willing to work.

The music seemed to whisper your name, distracting you further. Reopening your recipe book, you flick through the aged pages, perhaps having the instructions in front of you would make you concentrate on something different. It didn’t matter that you had made hundreds of vials of soothing before, nor did it matter that you knew the recipe by heart, it gave your brain something else to do than dream up fantasies of what the party would be like.

Despite having the book in front of you, images of finely crafted dress swishing as their wearers danced continued to preoccupy your mind, so much so you hadn’t noticed your mother return.

You’re brought from your musings by the sound of your mothers’ pestle clattering against the table. Would she let you go if you asked? You chewed your lips as you thought, it didn’t take you long to arrive at the solid conclusion of ‘no’. Why should this occasion have a different outcome to any of the other times you had asked. You thumb absently through the pages, already hearing the responses your mother would give you.

She had given you an almighty row after you had met the prince a few years ago. You scowl at the memory. The punishment had never matched the act. How were you supposed to know one of the princes of Asgard would be wandering the corridors at that very moment? No supper that night and bed at sunset for two weeks definitely made a mountain out of a molehill.

Your frown lessens as you focus on the page you had landed on. ‘Draught of Sleep’. Your eyes dart nervously between your mother and the page as an idea pops into your head. Scanning the ingredients list you realise you had most of them out already. The only thing missing was poppy seed extract, but you knew exactly which cupboard and shelf it was kept on. It was risky and incredibly reckless to even be considering this, but what mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her?

Right?

“I’m going to make some tea, would you like some mother?” Already you can feel how sweaty your palms are.

“I’d love some, thank you, dear,” Looking up from her work, she casts you a warm smile. You try to return it in kind but the feeling of guilt welling up inside you dampened it.

Standing you palm the necessary ingredients off the table, hoping your mother wouldn’t notice. When you reached the tea set, you hastily shove the ingredients you had been carrying into the drawstring tea bag. You sidestep to the cabinet beside you, flicking away the buds of lavender that had stuck to your palm. Your eyes quickly scan the jars that sat unprotected on its shelves, you take a cautionary look over your shoulder at your mother before reaching for the one you needed.

Returning to the tea set, you carefully add 5 drops of the poppy seed extract, counting each straw-coloured droplet as it hit the bottom of your mothers cup. Tendrils of stream curl upwards as you pour generous amounts of hot water into each one, making sure to thoroughly soak the herbs and flowers you had added to your mother’s cup.

‘Here goes nothing’.

It had taken ingesting the entire brew before your mother finally succumbed to sleep. She slept hunched over, her head touching the table. Guilt and excitement began to bubble in your chest as you softly drape a blanket over her shoulders. The drought had worked wonderfully, and you finally got your chance to go to the party. But you did not enjoy deceiving your mother like this.

You give yourself a customary once over check before heading out of your chambers. Unsure of the exact way to go, you follow the sounds of revelry and smells of rich food and perfume.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Everyone around you was having such an amazing time. The conversations and music were so loud around you it made your skin tingle. Laughter rang out from somewhere; you could barely hear it over the roar of chatter. You felt giddy and hot. You had expected polite conversation, wine and those silly little appetisers carried around on trays, but what you had found was beyond what you could think up.

Since arriving you had learned this was, in fact, a party celebrating the 18th birthday of Prince Loki. It was a fitting celebration for his entrance into manhood.

You danced lazily through the corridors of the palace. Your blood was still alive with music and more than one goblet of wine. Already, you were wishing you could stay for longer. You would have a difficult time removing the grin from your face. Twirling on your toes once more, your eyes following the hem of your skirts as they whirl around you.

“Y/n?” Someone asks, making you teeter mid-turn; off-balance.

Wildly you reach out grabbing nothing but air, you were going to fall and create a scene. They knew your name. The thought assaults you as you land in a heap on the floor. The cold of the tiles seeps through your skin and into your veins. There were very few on Asgard who knew you, those who did also knew your mother.

‘She’ll skin me alive’, you think, oblivious to the hand being extended down to you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” The voice asks again, chuckling.

Clenching your jaw, you prepare your meanest gaze to direct at them but stop when you see who stood before you.

Loki.

Everything about him was almost the same. His dark hair had grown, tucked away behind his ears. The timeless beauty of his pale complexion made his eyes appear more vibrant, they twinkled with something more, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You grin to yourself, noticing he still wore his characteristic green though his chest and shoulders were broader now. He definitely wasn’t a little boy anymore.

“I- Yes, I'm… How are you?” You ramble awkwardly, only making him grin more.

“Well, I must admit I’m a little surprised,” His larger hand envelops yours as he tugs you to stand. “You disappear for three years, only for me to find you dancing around the corridors,”

You feel your face begin to flame.

“Where have you been?” He mutters softly, asking himself more than you.

“It’s late, I must be getting home,” Reluctantly you slip your hand from his, taking a few retreating steps.

“Wait!” He frowns at your avoidance, catching up to you in one large stride.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Where are you going?”

“Home?” You ask in confusion, pointing behind you.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s my birthday, stay a while!” He gestures with open arms.

“I really must be getting back,” You grimace. “I hope your birthday wish comes true, your highness,” You wave before setting off again, you had stayed longer than intended and were anxious to get back before your mother awoke.

“Obviously it can’t,” Loki calls down the corridor to you, you fight the urge to turn around and ask why. “Because you’re leaving,”

You whirl around to face him, your mouth opening and closing as you floundered. Why were you his wish? He was a prince who could have anything, surely, he was more imaginative than that.

“Because I’m leaving?” You repeat dumbly.

“You’re a mystery y/n. The vanishing girl, no one knows you and yet here you are,” he cocks his head to the side observing you.

“I’ll disappear forever if you do not let me leave,” You offer, hoping to throw Loki off. You suppress a shudder realising that threat might become a reality if you were ever caught. Goodness knows what your mother would have in store for you.

“Then make me a promise… promise me you’ll let me solve this mystery, one day, y/n,”

“Okay, deal,” you thrust forward your fisted hand with your pinky extended. Loki stares at it for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“To easily broken,” he states, shaking his head.

You sigh harshly through your nose. Your hands cover your face, you didn’t have time for this. Clasping them against your chest a small cynical voice tells you that yes, now is a good time to start praying. You feel the cool surface of your Celtic knot pendant brush against your thumbs, looking down, an idea pops into your head.

Gripping the necklace in your hand you pull, releasing the catch. Gathering it in your palm you offer it towards the prince.

“Here, something physical, a tangible promise,”

“One day?” Loki asks, taking the necklace from you.

“One day,” you repeat before slipping away.

As you round the corner you holler a quick ‘happy birthday’. Neither of you knew when that would be, but you doubted it would be soon, for as thrilling as tonight’s little excursion had been, you didn’t feel bold enough to attempt it again.

Yet.

~*~*~*~*~

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