#thank u universe bc how the hell did i stumble across this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

berrykook · 4 years

Text

bloom (demon!y!hs) (nsfw)

do not read if you are not into yandere fic! hs is a demon jackass pls save urself!

in which hoseok finds you in his garden and his love begins to bloom

contents: demon!yandere!hoseok, kidnapping, manipulation, oral (f receiving), sex!!! i gotta spoil it they fuck! and hoseok kinda says some...sub stuff idk :/

word count: 5.2k

a/n: thanks for the requests ! <3 i got off track from building this universe and i ended up sorta negating the law that demons and angels can’t interact buttttttt reader still kinda has a moral dilemma ? >.<

IMPORTANT before they start fuckin, reader has a moment of confusion and suspects that hoseok has intentionally magically warped her mind into consenting but that’s not the case reader is just dumb! thank u also i don’t know much about flowers or hell so i’m sorry if any info is incorrect :( lmk and i will fix immediately (and let’s pretend hoseok’s dog is a girl bc i didn’t know that until googling it for this fic)

and mb that this is coming a month after i said it would :( school is beating my ass hard anyways pls enjoy

*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

Hoseok once had a mother a mere three-thousand or so years ago and she named him well. His name fell off her tongue in a major key and rang across acres and through caverns. She never failed to say his name in gargantuan font to be heard across nations; the syllables “Ho-seok” had chimed through shadowy deserts of Hell, Heaven, and Earth for as long as he lived. Hoseok was always big and known - a beacon of diabolic energy; it was his birthright.

His mother was long gone, but remained in a photograph which he always kept on his person (demon?). It was supposed that even immortals had to walk forward into new lives after some time. His father had been around for around one hundred years after, and his sister had moved on when he was barely a thousand. The only companion of Hoseok’s, the only one left, was a shih tzu who followed him even when he treated her with indifference. Hoseok had great power and an abundance of Earth men who sold him their souls, but the loneliness which plagued him was indescribable.

“News for you, my Lord. Taehyung has declared he is but one sure meeting from stealing the Park soul for work to complete in the Circle of Fraud. He has said to be back in less than a fortnight.”

The assistant, doe-eyed and snake-tongued, stared at the wall behind Hoseok as he recited the news from one of hell’s most talented demons, who was currently on a sabbatical to inspect the soul of an Earth man with an itch to be with a woman he saw on the train a year prior. Taehyung had come bustling into Hoseok’s quarters one day, spewing gibberish about the perfect human to become his next target. Hoseok’s chest twinged a bit when Taehyung explained that this Park Jimin schmoe had been stalking this woman for months and was willing to practically sell his soul to be with her (enter Taehyung). “How wonderful,” he said wistfully, yearning for a perfect confidante like this Jimin character had found. At Hoseok’s glassy expression, Taehyung had to withhold a shiver.

Hoseok took a long moment to respond. He stared at his assistant, wondering if he, too, yearned for such a dream, or if perhaps he had even already found his match made in hell. The assistant’s nose twitched like a rabbit.

“Thank you, Jungkook. You may go,” Hoseok said apathetically. He robotically spun on his heels and exited Hoseok’s office with heavy footsteps. Hoseok stretched in his chair, debating if he should charm the assistant’s feet to grow dead and swollen and moldy to teach him not to walk so damn loud all the time.

The shih tzu yapped happily around Hoseok’s feet as he slowly rose from his desk to stare out the window to his left, which displayed miles and miles of lush greenery and delicate flowers of all colors. He conjured the garden around when his sister passed on. She, too, had an infatuation for infatuation and longed for a faraway place to water a romance. Once, they peeked into their father’s seeing portal as children and stumbled upon two lovers in a field of flowers.

(Hoseok did not possess his own soul, but if he did, it would be prickly and tar-like and scary. He was on the cusp of royalty in the underworld. He was evil.)

Still, Hoseok clutched the memory of those lovers in the flowers with tight fists. How magnificent it was to just be in the shadows of lovers. Oh, how the feeling crawled over him like a crowd of tarantulas. He was evil, and was sure he would never experience such a joy. At least he had his garden.

Hoseok felt your presence before his foot even touched the grass that day. He froze in the doorway for a moment, closing his eyes to sense where the intruder was. Within seconds, he discovered your exact location within the field that went on forever. He let out a breath as his feet hit the ground, now teleported a thousand miles from his home. He opened his eyes and choked for a second. His senses were going haywire - the grass was a million shades greener and the flowers seemed to bloom bigger before him. It was beautiful.

As soon as you became completely engulfed in the sickly red hot aura, you went ramrod straight and dropped the bundle of flowers in your hands. It filled every one of your pores and poured down your intestines like lava. You did not even get the chance to gasp - after the instant it came, it burned too much to inhale or exhale. You stared forward straight into the field, wondering how this spirit did not wilt all of the garden. You didn’t dare look in the direction it was coming from.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok spoke finally after a long moment of thick silence. The typical malice in his tone had completely vanished. He was sure now - he loved you. “Angel...are you lost?” He thought about kneeling to get on your level, but hesitated, awkward in his actions. What was he supposed to do with his hands?

Slowly, you trailed your eyes over to where those awful vibrations were originating from. Your stomach twisted when you saw him simply standing five meters away. You became filled with an indescribable dread. A demon, horns and all, staring at you and speaking with tenderness. You began to blubber immediately.

“I’m so, so sorry, I-I was just looking for a f-f-flower I heard you had, oh, dear God, I’m so sorry!” You were inconsolable, dropping your head towards your knees in surrender. Just feeling him that great distance away put you in shambles. You were young and naïve, but you knew what happened to Heaven’s Souls that were caught sneaking in the Circles. Your cries only worsened when his aura became stronger and more painful with every footstep. You suddenly felt an overwhelming warmth on your back and your cries immediately halted like magic.

“Don’t cry anymore.” His voice seemed to boom even when he was trying his hardest to keep it soft. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Speak freely...tell me how you arrived here.” His hand trailed up your back to rest on your neck. He wanted nothing more than for you to relax against him.

“I-I was...searching for a flower. I had heard about a secret garden in the Fraudulent Circle...one with every flower to have existed. I-I’m so sorry. Please, have mercy!” You began sobbing again into your hands, holding them close to your face when you felt his gentle touch around your wrists. “I only died just last year…I don’t want to vanish, please!”

Your wails struck a tune in Hoseok’s ribcage like a kalimba. He grabbed your fearful face in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumb. You held your breath in shock at how gentle he was.

“Not a single soul has trespassed my garden and escaped vanishing.” Your bottom lip wobbled at that, and he ran a thumb along it to still it. “But you...sweet angel...I couldn’t dare do that to you.”

Your mind raced, knowing how clever demons could be and especially such a powerful one like him. He was devastatingly handsome - if you were still on Earth, you would have melted right into his hands.

His smile is twisted. “Lover...do you know who I am?” He stared down at you in admiration, rising a bit on his knees to hover over your face.

Slowly and fearfully, you shook your head. He pressed a ghost of a kiss on your lips as he turned to your ear and whispered softly, “Ho-seok.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood straighter and your whole body erupted with goosebumps. You stared at him with wide eyes.

Hoseok. A name you knew of well, even when you were human. Hearing him whisper that name into your ear like that made your knees shake a second more rapidly. It felt as though the blue skies above had darkened into a hellish black hole. He chuckled at your terrified expression, smoothing your hair back with a burly hand.

“Are you scared?” He couldn’t help himself from asking. Your glassy eyes made him both sad and also weak-kneed. He decided in that moment that he especially loved to tease you.

You nodded again and Hoseok cooed, playfully squishing your cheeks a bit.

“You’re such a young one, aren’t you? Just a baby,” he mumbled, running his hands along your cheekbones, through your hair, across your forehead. Chills continuously crawled up your spine as he fawned over you like some sort of doll. You understood where you were going before you began your trip, but you truly felt it now - this was Hell.

“There is no reason to fear me. I couldn’t hold any malice toward a soul so beautiful...even better that you are an angel. I can easily arrange a place for you in my fortress if you so please.” Something in his tone warned you that it didn’t matter what you pleased. You gave a small nod, letting him take your hand in his. He held it to his face, inhaling deeply and pressing wet kisses along your forearm. “Really? You don’t mind sharing a space with a big, bad demon like me?” He chuckled darkly against your palm and you bit your lip nervously.

“No,” you murmured quietly. He was tricking you. You could feel it in your bones.

He smiled widely, also seeing completely through you. He knew then that he would need to put in some work to turn you over. He placed a hand on your back once more and leaned to bring his forehead to yours, and in less than a second, you had found yourself teleported to a cozy study with velvet carpets. Your stomach turned with anxiety at the thought of your friends and family not knowing where you had disappeared off to - you weren’t even sure if you were still in a Circle of Hell or some other evil place. Hoseok stood up slowly and brought you by the hand to behind his desk, perching you on his lap.

“Tell me, angel, where are you from?” He conjured a brush out of thin air and ran it through your hair like he would a doll. You clenched your fists in an attempt to get your voice under control.

“I was told that I was the last of my family to die. They’re all up in Heaven, waiting for me.” Hoseok began to brush your hair slower. “B-But, it’s...fine, I guess,” you added quickly. The last thing you wanted was for Hoseok to grow suspicious of you. “I just...wanted to find a type of camellia. I love flowers,” you whispered. The feeling of his breath on your neck made you embarrassed. He laughed.

“Camellia? You should have just said so,” he beamed. Suddenly, his arm wrapped around your front to reveal the red blossom you had pain-stakingly sifted through the fields for. A soft gasp escaped you as Hoseok placed the flower in your hands, then wrapping his hands around your wrists. He seemed to like having that hold on you.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s just how I pictured it,” you whispered in awe. You turned in his lap to face him, doing your best to ham up the performance to give yourself the best chance of survival. “Thank you, Hoseok.” You hoped that his doe-eyed expression so close to your face would not make your own expression drain of color.

“You’re welcome, darling...I can call you that, can’t I?” He leaned in closer to your face and you squeezed the stem in your hand to force yourself not to move back.

“O-oh...I suppose so, sure…” you said coyly. Hoseok’s smile grew wider and he slowly leaned in more, further and further, until his lips were pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your hope for escaping was decreasing exponentially as he continued to fawn over you and kiss your face.

“Darling, tell me more,” he mumbled against you. “Talk to me about this afterlife in Heaven of yours. I want to know everything.”

You were sure that he was able to find out anything he wanted with just a lick of his magic, but you indulged him anyway. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s heaven, isn’t it? It’s...wonderful, actually. I missed my family for so long on Earth that it’s an indescribable feeling of being reunited once again.”

You did not lie - Hoseok would likely pick up on that before you could even pull the words from your throat, so you did your best to make your reality sound like something you held onto dearly. In truth, it was Heaven - nothing more, nothing less. Your entire family, along with every Godly person you had ever known was there to keep you company as you filled your days with...whatever it was you wanted to do. Heaven held your wildest dreams.

Going spelunking to the Eighth Circle of Hell was the most interesting thing you had done since you died, but you knew that staying was out of the question, right?

The needle of your moral compass twitched slightly.

“I...I miss them,” you mumbled sadly, playing with your fingers like a child. Hoseok remained silent and your heart picked up a beat as you couldn’t yet tell if he was seeing through you. He turned his head away from you, biting his lip.

“I see, angel...you would like to go home, wouldn’t you?” He looked to you again, reaching to cradle your face. You felt a profound force pulling you to lean in closer. Something about him felt right, and you were beginning to feel disgusted with yourself for it. His thumbs stroked underneath your eyes as he looked at you sadly. Your heart stirred unwillingly.

“I suppose I should...shouldn’t I?” You had to refrain from smacking yourself as the words tumbled out of your mouth like an avalanche. Ever since you were a young human girl, you had been warned of a demon named Hoseok and his tricks. You slept with a night-light for several years from the gruesome stories of him that lingered around your shoulders for long nights. You feared him, but a prickling feeling in your sternum somehow drew you closer. He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Sweet angels like you belong in Heaven. You have your afterlife and I have mine,” he sighed wistfully. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against his.

There was no explanation for this unsolicited adoration blossoming in your chest. You were never one to fall in love easily, but it felt like the walls were going to close in on you if you didn’t give in. Yes, you were fully suspicious now that Hoseok had done something to your mind to make it melt in such a way, but it felt so good that you didn’t attempt to fight it. Hoseok grinned widely, itching to use his magic but ultimately restraining himself.

You were correct from that first moment he appeared behind you - you were completely and utterly hopeless.

“Besides, who would want to stay with such an ugly, evil demon like Hoseok?” He scoffed, looking away from you pitifully. You gasped and dropped the flower so you could tenderly hold his face in your hands.

“Don’t say that!” He grinned sheepishly under your gaze. “I just...I was just saying...um,” you stumbled over your words, trying to remember why exactly you had to leave him here. Your family was waiting for you in Heaven, but they suddenly seemed so miniscule compared to Hoseok. You were torn between completely rejecting him and his demonic nature, and attempting to understand that nature and understand the soul he is. His aura had changed totally since you first felt it - you now could only feel the love he had for you. It was absurd.

“You don’t remember, baby?” Hoseok laughs and your blush deepens. “I thought you were so eager to get back home...can’t you make up your mind?” Hoseok continued to tease you, which made you feel as if you were up in flames. Your mind raced, unsure of what was happening. Hoseok was now kissing the pads of your fingers. He moved so slowly, but you felt as if time was advancing more quickly by the minute.

“My head is...foggy. I don’t know what I want,” you mumbled, grabbing his hand to place on the back of your neck. He smiles widely.

“I think you know exactly what you want.” Hoseok took one of your hands to place on his chest. You immediately started rubbing it, up and down in slow strokes. “Such a good little angel...you always have been, haven’t you? Married a good man, lived honestly as a florist...you’ve been so good…” Hoseok held your face by your chin and slipped a thumb into your mouth to run along your lower set of teeth. “Why don’t you let yourself run free for a night? Be a little bad?”

He slipped his thumb further into your mouth and you leaned forward so it would reach toward the back of your throat. Hoseok moaned at the feeling, smirking evilly. “Darling...don’t you want this?”

You closed your eyes and hollowed your cheeks, letting the pad of your tongue be pet by his thumb. He released it from your mouth with a wet pop.

The burning in your sternum spread like wildfire through you, and you knew then that you had to let yourself smolder. You had already thrown caution to the wind when you decided going to a flower field in Hell was more fun than being around the people you had already spent a mortal eternity with. Something about his aura had your head reeling and your core dripping.

Fuck it. You were already caught in Hell.

“Yes, Hoseok. I want this.”

Hoseok leaned in to place a tender kiss under your jawline and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself teleported into a King-sized bed with a thick red velvet comforter. Hoseok hovered over you, still suckling on your neck. Like a virgin, you fiddled with your hands for a moment before hesitantly placing them on his shoulders.

Hoseok chuckled lowly, pulling away to look at you and push your hair behind your ears. “You’re nervous. Don’t worry,” he murmured. He placed a kiss below your right ear and sent a quaking shiver through your spine. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Hoseok grabbed both of your hands by the wrist and held them slightly above your head against the fluffed pillows. Whatever sex dungeon he had teleported you to was perfect - the cool feeling of the velvet against your skin and the aroma of Hoseok’s devilish aura made your knees shake. Hoseok noticed this and ran his hands up and down your thighs slowly, lovingly. “You’re shivering,” he laughed. You turned your flushed face away from him. He continued to laugh at you softly before turning your face back towards him with his pointer finger. “I already told you once. If you wish to leave after this, I’ll send you back to your place in Heaven without hesitation...there’s no reason to be scared because I will do anything you ask.” He kisses you deeply on the lips. “That is how I feel for you, just after this short time together.”

His attention on you felt thick like molasses. He made you feel as though you were the center of the universe. This was wrong, and you felt it deep within you. Knowing this, you reached up to capture his lips once again and palm his cock through the dark silk of his pants.

Hoseok moaned happily and continued to kiss you again and again for what felt like forever. His tongue lapped over every crevice of your mouth at a painful pace before finally moving his hand to slowly thumb your clit. His movements were agonizingly slow - you assumed he wanted to preserve this moment before he sent you on your way home.

You let out a deep sigh into his mouth as he slowly, but harshly, stroked your clit and fingered the opening of your pussy and just a touch from your ass. He smiled over you as he watched and took in every facial expression and inhaled each breath of yours.

“Does it feel good? Please, please, tell me,” he moaned. You stared up at him in disbelief - he seemed on the edge of orgasming just from seeing you in pleasure. You had barely done anything but stroke his cock through his pants. “I need to hear you tell me it’s good.”

You smiled smally, reaching up to grab at his chin. “Yes, yes. You’re doing so good, Hoseok.” You fought back a giggle as he practically rolled his eyes back into his head at your minimal praise.

“Angel...please, let me eat you out...I promise I’ll do good, please just give me the chance…” He began rutting his hips against one of your thighs and you laughed out loud. At the sound of your laughter, he whined pitifully.

“Are you sure you’re from Hell?” You laughed as he buried his face into your stomach, embarrassed. “Just get started so you can fuck me already.”

Things quickly took a turn for the stranger as Hoseok buried his face into your pussy and made completely lewd sounds of pleasure from this. He seemed to be enjoying this more than you and it made you feel both embarrassed and hot. The feeling of control made your lips tilt up in a sick smile as his grip on your thighs tightened with each moment.

“Y-You’re doing so well,” you mumbled after several minutes of Hoseok eating you out while trying not to cum in his pants. “S-so, fuck, good.” It was an odd game that Hoseok was playing, but you followed along gleefully. At your praise, he moaned loudly into your pussy and sent a shiver of pleasure up your spine. “C-come here,” you instructed, reaching to pull his head up towards yours. He let out a pant as he dragged himself up towards you, knuckles holding himself on the bed shakily. “Will you fuck me?”

Hoseok bowed his head to place a kiss on your sternum. “Anything for you,” he whispered, almost hissing like a snake. He guided your hand to stroke his cock for a bit, all while he loudly expressed and moaned for you. Heat continued to rise in your cheeks - Hoseok was scandalous.

“S-sweetheart, fuck, we have to start before I come all over your thighs.” You both laughed and he gripped your neck possessively, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The pressure of just the first stroke had you rolling your head against the satin pillows. Hoseok seemed to be handling it in a worse way, as it looked as though he could already be finished in just a quick moment. You gripped his neck and pulled him closer before whispering to him, “How do I make you feel?”

Hoseok growled for a moment, before whimpering and burying his face into your neck. “Y-you’re a princess...fuck, fuck, I fucking can’t...a queen,” he moaned.

You threw your head back again as he picked up the speed of a jackhammer. He dove into you so deeply with such vigor and passion that you had no doubts he wasn’t mortal. Nobody but him could drill into you like this.

Hoseok reached down to get a grip on one of your thighs to perch on his shoulder. You moaned unashamedly and it made his pace jolt for a moment.

He continued fucking you relentlessly, occassionally turning his head to nip at your thigh. You turned your head to bring your gaze to the mirror in the corner of the room, proudly displaying Hoseok’s muscled back and his cock slipping in and out of you. You let out a breathy laugh and Hoseok began fucking you with everything in him.

“You like seeing yourself getting fucked? You look radiant,” he growled, pounding into you so hard you were bumped by the headboard. At a loss for words, you nodded, once again reaching up to hold his neck tenderly. He smirked down at you. “Ready?”

You let out another laugh, nodding eagerly. He smiled softly, too softly for a demon, and placed on hand on your pussy and one on your breast, all while keeping his inhuman pace fucking you. Just the touch of his hand on your clit had you in tears, but his skill in rubbing it tenderly had you screaming out. At the first sight of your tears, Hoseok came inside you almost immediately. The sounds filling the room were lewd, and the feeling of his cum filling your pussy and getting all over your thighs and ass held the same sentiment. Ever so slowly, he stopped pumping and delicately brought your leg to rest on the stained velvet. He kissed your lips slowly and lovingly for several minutes before wrapping you in his arms and just holding you close.

“You are perfect,” he spoke softly after the long silence. You drowsily looked up at him for a second before looking away shyly. “Tell me what makes you happy, and I will give it to you.” Another slow kiss to your lips. “Anything you’d like.”

You kissed back with hesitance, now eager to make your way back home after being held and kissed by him for nearly an hour of cuddling.

“I’m happy with the camellia.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jawline before rising slowly, looking around the room for a door.

Hoseok chuckled darkly, rising as well and holding your waist to bring you onto his lap. You protested, flushing deeply when he still planted your bare pussy onto his legs and let his remaining cum from inside you flow out back onto him.

“That’s not what I meant, darling.” He brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear and admired you closely. You looked away, twiddling your thumbs. “What is it that you would like in our living quarters? Would you like the flower shop from your mortal life, or perhaps the home you raised your children in? I could conjure another garden at the drop of a hat, sweetheart...anything you would like.”

His stare on you intensified as he spoke. Your heart rate picked up once he said “living quarters,” and you begged it to slow so he wouldn’t notice.

“O-oh,” you stuttered after a long moment. He kept running his fingers through your hair and it sent chills down your naked spine. “I’ve got everything I need at home...don’t you think it’s time I get going?”

You looked at him coyly, hoping he would keep his promise of sending you home afterwards. He laughed breathily and kept a large hand cradling the back of your head.

“You didn’t think I would actually let you go, baby?” Hoseok laughed out loud, throwing his head back. He pressed an urgent kiss to your lips. You did not return it. “You’re mine, even if you didn’t have my cum dripping down your legs. You were mine the second you set foot in my garden.”

You looked to him carefully and let out a nervous chuckle. The temperature in the room began to rise, though you stayed still on his lap. Hoseok’s smile deepened.

“I have to go home,” you whispered after another long silence. At this point, you were dripping sweat while Hoseok remained unbothered. “You said you would take me home.”

Somewhere inside of you had clearly known all along that making a deal with Hoseok had no way of ending well. You knew he would torture you and eat your heart for breakfast because Hoseok was a demon and that’s what demons did, and especially ones of his calibre - yet, you stayed. You knew he would end you, and you stayed.

“Darling...you’re so sweet.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, “and stupid.”

In the blink of an eye, Hoseok had transported you to the desk chair in his office. He had dressed himself in a fine suit and yourself in a ruffled dress so white it hurt your eyes. You noticed now that his office was also decorated in that heavy red velvet. It made your stomach churn.

“If you really would like to go home, the door to my garden is here. I told you already.” He rested his hand on the doorknob and looked to you with heavy eyes. “I love you.”

You held back a scoff, knowing that he wasn’t asking, but demanding you to go past the door. For some reason, his last confession of love was more bone-chilling than the others. He opened the door for you and towered over you as you cautiously took the first step onto the soft bed of grass below.

A feeling not unlike what you felt when you first encountered Hoseok’s aura ran up your leg and struck your entire body. Immediately, you rebounded back into Hoseok’s office and dropped to your knees as the burning made you feel as though your flesh was dripping off the bone. You cried out as you repeatedly ran your hands up and down your arms and legs, reassuring yourself that they were still there. Hoseok let out a booming laugh.

He bent to sit cross-legged on the floor with you.

“It’s not real, baby. You’re just imagining it. See?” Hoseok grabbed your wrists gently and placed your hands on his face. “Look at me. You’re safe,” he chuckled. You still had to take a moment to catch your breath.

“I have to go home,” you sighed, exasperated. Hoseok smiled again, grabbing hold of your wrist again to caress it tenderly.

“Listen carefully, darling.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forearm. “I don’t want to have to say this again. You’re mine. I own you.” He intertwined your fingers. “I could rip your heart out in a second. I could feed you to my dog. Feed you to the assistant.” He ran a hand through your hair and lovingly held your trembling chin.

“I could make you vanish with the snap of my fingers...now, or later if you want to act up.” You looked down in shame and he immediately grabbed your face again to bring it to his. “Take one step outside that door and I’ll have you up in flames. I could have your head on a fucking stick, baby.” Suddenly, he cooed, wiping a tear from your eye. “You are home. You were meant to get caught in my field. I was meant to meet you, and love you. I love you. Sweetheart?”

His hand that was holding yours suddenly contracted, squeezing your bones with a sick snap and pop. Through your cries, you sobbed out, “I love you too.”

He smiled sickeningly, planting another kiss on your forehead. “Remind me your favorite flowers. We can keep them in the bedroom.”

#yandere hoseok #yandere!hoseok #yandere bts #yandere!bts

153 notes · View notes

mavspeed · 3 years

Text

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon.

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10.

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11.

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13.

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14.

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

#whew this is super long i apologise #u can pinpoint the exact time i replaced taron with james as my number one boy #fic tag #fic meme

6 notes · View notes

ravenvsfox · 7 years

Note

hello, i love ur fics! can u write something where neil uses the "do u play exy bc ur a keeper" or something like that pick up line to andrew in front of the foxes maybe hes drunk idk i think itd be super funny xx

(so uhhhh I made this not funny at all and also an au but hey! it’s a thing!!)

Neil’s blearily grateful to be wedged into the dark embroidered fabric of a low-slung couch, pushed away from the sweat and throb of the dance floor. He feels enough like a raw vein without the club sucking the blood from him.

He knows he’s drunk because the blue lights are making him see ghosts in strangers’ faces. When he speaks it feels like he has a marble tucked into each cheek, just enough to garble his words. He knows that his legs won’t come with him if he stands, and it scares him.

Dan and Matt are crooning into each others’ ears, rocking to the sugary remix overhead, stacked next to him on the couch. He wonders how long he’s been swallowing shots to drown the taste of the last shot, trying to raise his pulse, trying to feel something. He opens his mouth to ask for the time and realizes, unsettled, that he’d asked less than a minute ago. He makes an aborted sound, smothering the stupid question before it can find oxygen and catch.

His friends notice anyway. Dan breaks away from Matt’s mouth at the noise, both of them gasping, adjusting to life on land.

“You look fucked,” Dan tells him. Neil nods seriously. He can taste so much salt. He’s drowned it in tequila and limes and rum and ice but his mouth still tastes savoury and sick.

“You need to get out of here?” Matt offers. Neil zeroes in on where Matt is rubbing circles into Dan’s bare thigh with his thumb. He knows they don’t really want to leave. He knows what their kindness tastes like because he’s gorged himself on it. He shakes his head, but it feels like his brain sloshes one way and his skull the other.

“I need a cigarette,” Neil says. He puts all his focus into standing without knocking over empties. Matt reaches out to steady him anyways but Neil pulls back hard, overcorrecting and falling into the wall. He stays there for too long, face pressed to the dark wall-paper, swallowing over and over again. He feels along the wall, liking the way it holds him up.

He finds himself on a short staircase down to the exit, and his feet and eyes are attached on a string. He can’t stop looking down because he can’t stop moving, and he doesn’t trust his body to do what he asks unless he’s watching, holding it accountable.

He’s struggling to light up before the door’s even open, hands shaking, lighter circling and sparking and coughing out in cycles.

Someone’s hand swims into view, and Neil watches his cigarette come alive like it’s happening to someone else. There’s a sharp-featured face and a pink mouth and moonlit hair and smoke peeling out of a mouth when it breathes.

“Thanks,” Neil mutters. The face doesn’t respond. Neil gives him a rare second look, squinting. “Did I thank you out loud?”

“You did,” the face says simply. His voice is cool and deep; it reminds Neil of cold patches in open water, and he gets phantom goosebumps.

Neil takes a drag of his cigarette. He sees his mother’s hair on the pillow next to him when he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, the stranger looks the same somehow: comforting, smoky, eaten by darkness, a good memory made painful.

It’s Andrew Minyard, he realizes suddenly. It’s the best goalkeeper in the world, smoking vacantly outside of a random seedy club in the middle of the season. The alcohol pitches and tries to come up his throat. Neil remembers that Minyard’s life intersected with Kevin’s somewhere in the timeline that he’d made himself put together half a dozen years ago. He remembers wishing for a way to be hidden but also to have Exy, his most treasured, unattainable obsession.

He looks at Andrew again, this time with recognition needling him so much that it hurts. He drops his cigarette on the ground and walks stiltedly away, feeling that old wish effect him more than the booze ever had. He keeps seeing steely brown eyes and that puzzling mouth even though he’s facing the other direction now.

Before everything, before he’d met Dan interning as a coach at his university, before Matt and Allison and Renee and Seth had become the only social circle he’d ever had, before he’d scared them and left them and killed his father, he’d thought of Kevin Day like a key, and Andrew like a keyring.

He’d watched them in black and red and scowls from afar and thought, things could’ve been different.

He stumbles back into the club with his past trying to introduce itself to the forefront of his brain, his eyes glued to his friends. They’re all bunched on the couches now, craning their necks for him, and things feel easier now that he’s focused on something other than the alcohol for a minute. He finds his way back through the masses, steadying himself on the arm of the couch as soon as he’s near enough.

“There you are, Christ Neil,” Matt says. “We were about to send out the world’s drunkest search party.”

“It’s fine,” Neil says. He wants to say more but he doesn’t know how to articulate that a professional athlete and former Raven just lit his cigarette for him, and he certainly doesn’t know how to explain why the thought of it makes him sick to his stomach.

“He’s fine,” Allison repeats. “He needs another drink.”

Matt goes to respond, but his mouth goes suddenly slack and his hand claps automatically to Dan’s arm. Neil’s throat closes up. “You’ll never guess who just walked in.”

All eyes swing to the door but Neil closes his, feeling the room tilt angrily around him, trying not to listen to the whispers spreading like a disease.

“No way, the monster?” Dan says. “Haven’t seen him since we played the Ravens in senior year. God, he’s hell in goal, remember?”

“He’s hell everywhere,” Seth says snidely.

“Maybe we should evacuate,” Allison says consideringly. “He’s an unpredictable little fucker.”

“I heard he stopped taking his meds when he made court,” Matt says. “—And he hasn’t said a word since.”

“He has,” Neil says unthinkingly, mouth cottony dry.

“What?”

“Nothing. He— nothing.”

“Oh,” Allison laughs. “I forgot that you were like— an Exy groupie.”

“I’m not,” Neil says firmly. He finally gives in and looks back towards the entrance, and he sees flickers of pale blond hair over a black ensemble. He feels himself sliding off of the arm of the couch and onto the cushion. Renee is a gentle pressure at his side.

“I think it’s good,” Renee says. “That you’re defending him. I have the feeling that he needs friends.”

“Maybe if he didn’t look like a serial killer,” Allison muses.

“Maybe if he didn’t act like one,” Seth agrees, and they exchange a mean, knowing glance. Neil always hates it when they agree.

“Anyways Neil,” Dan says pointedly. “We’re playing truth or dare, and you can’t get out of it.” Neil rolls his eyes and she flicks him in the face. “Whose turn was it?”

“Seth’s,” Matt tells her, and Seth succinctly tells him to fuck off.

They jump back into the rhythm of the game that they’d started while Neil was away, and he tries to focus on anything but the phantom panic in his stomach. The memory and the alcohol don’t want to coexist inside of him.

The group cycles past an uncooperative Seth and a sweet truth from Renee. Neil watches Andrew, a complex shadow on the opposite side of the room. He slips in among a group of people jostling around a table and Neil looks hastily down when a head turns and he narrowly avoids Kevin Day’s eye.

He recognizes the group now, Kevin and Andrew and Aaron, the infamous duo and the twin who didn’t make the cut. There’s someone else too, tall and dark and visibly enthusiastic.

“Neil,” Matt says abruptly. “You’ve gotta go try to pick him up.”

“Who?” Neil asks woozily. His focus is ice and Andrew and Kevin are salt.

“Minyard. Of fucking course. Don’t tell me you’re not in love with the way he plays at least, Neil.”

“No,” Neil replies, agitated, rubbing his own arm and feeling the weight of his scars beneath his sleeve.

“Uh, yes,” he says. “I dare you.”

“I choose truth,” Neil says petulantly, and Allison snorts.

“That’s new for you.”

“I’m not doing it,” Neil reiterates. He’s drunk enough that he would, though. He’s twitchy and unfiltered and he wants to know why Andrew did something for him without asking for anything in return.

“Then you lose,” Dan tells him. Neil glares at her. The club seems to get louder around them, an ocean reacting to a charged sky.

“Fine,” he says, and makes to get up with his glass limbs and his jelly focus. Somewhere in his sweaty palms he remembers to be terrified that Kevin might remember his face. Neil’s stopped putting in the effort to dye his hair since the butcher died. It’s grown out auburn, darker at the tips, curling around his neck. He still puts in brown contacts, scared of the ice in his own eyes.

Matt tugs him down. His expression is gleeful when he says, “wait, wait. We’ve got to give you your script.”

“Script,” Neil repeats, incredulous. Dan starts to reply but then Matt ropes her in close, whispering in her ear until something surprises a laugh out of her. She takes his phone and passes it along to Neil, grinning.

“We’ll be here, if he tries anything.”

“Fine,” he hears himself say again. He doesn’t know why he’s agreeing to this. He doesn’t know why he can’t disconnect the smoke on his tongue with Andrew’s face, soft but still in the light from his cigarette. He’s not used to wanting anything except adrenaline, but its possible Andrew’s just a version of the same thing.

He pushes through the crowd with the phone clenched in his hand, dizzying colours flashing over Andrew’s bowed head, his brother’s a shocking mirror across the table. Neil can hear his own breathing, curiously loud in the thunder and rain of music and voices.

He stops a couple of feet away from the four of them, eyeing Kevin’s tattoo and feeling very very foolish. He paces the last handful of steps closer and feels their eyes land on him like a coffin door closing. He looks down at the phone in his fist, trying to find meaning in the glaringly bright screen.

“Do you play Exy,” Neil starts, watching despairingly as Andrew’s interest fizzles out. “Because you’re a keeper.” He turns to go immediately, suddenly uninterested in a response, throat burning with humiliation. He should’ve read the note first. He shouldn’t have engaged. He shouldn’t have made friends with a bunch of malicious former Foxes. He can hear someone laughing in Andrew’s group, something about boys being too scared to even wait around for rejection.

“You,” he hears. Neil stops short. He breathes through his nose and rolls his shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” he says over his shoulder. “It was a dare. I didn’t come looking for a ‘you’re welcome’.”

“I wasn’t offering one,” Andrew says. Then, “come here.”

Neil glances back at his assembled friends without really seeing them, like feeling for the shape of your phone in your pocket. He weighs his options as best he can through the gauze of alcohol and exhaustion, and returns unsteadily to the group clustered around Andrew. He knows it doesn’t make sense for them to be assembled around someone as explosive as Andrew, but he seems to manufacture his own gravity.

Andrew regards him for a long moment. He’s pristine on the outside, like a stainless steel fridge with all manner of rot and vitality inside.

“I know who you are,” he tells Neil calmly. The tall boy titters nervously. The fine hairs on Neil’s neck stand straight up.

“You too,” Neil says as clearly as he can. It still comes out dirty. He can’t keep his past out of his voice tonight.

“Lots of people know who I am,” Andrew says, uninterested, and Neil gets a knick of pure anger. He wants Andrew to care.

“I’m sure,” Neil says. “I’d reckon that not quite as many know about the murder of your mother. Or about the real reason for your armbands.” He’s blowing smoke on that last one, but he enjoys the way Andrew’s face leaps, for a minute, barely able to strangle his own feelings before they get loose.

“Nathaniel,” Andrew tries, vindictive and crystal clear. Kevin’s gaze snaps in his direction, and Neil ducks his head, turns, trying to be lost again like he always is.

Andrew catches his arm in a shockingly strong grip, and Neil wrenches it around. He gets an inch of surprise, but Andrew outmatches him for strength and clearheadedness. He finds himself pinned to the bar, the room swimming but Andrew fixed.

“Pretty convenient that Tilda’s side of the car went non-functional and yours was untouched. Were you even trying to cover it up?” Neil hisses.

“Who are you,” Andrew says, jostling him hard so that his shoulder digs painfully into the lip of the bar.

“I thought you knew?” Neil mocks. He’s running on fumes, using every un-loaded gun in his arsenal until he finds a bullet. He half hopes that Andrew will knock him out before he finds one.

“I’ve seen your face. The runaway killer. You were on the news for patricide,” he says the last word like he’s tasting it and daintily spitting it out again.

He doesn’t bother denying it, Andrew’s eyes are too clever, even in the slur of the club. They’re all murderers here, anyway. “Two years ago,” he says instead. “A grainy photo on the Maryland news two years ago.”

“I do not forget faces.”

They stare at each other, Neil breathing hard, Andrew’s hands flexed tight in Neil’s shirt. He spots the club’s security shoving their way towards them over Andrew’s shoulder, looking grim and important.

“Let go,” Neil says, and Andrew does, instantly. He gives himself a moment to be impressed and then he’s being hauled up by a heavy hand on his bicep.

“You guys going to continue to destroy property?” He understands dimly that Andrew must have broken something on the bar with Neil’s body.

“Might,” Andrew says, and Neil’s mouth twitches. The hands get tighter, and he lets himself be manhandled towards the exit without digging his heels in too much.

“No way,” he hears, and when he looks up he sees Matt’s face on the outskirts of a distracted crowd of dancers, flushed drunk and obviously horrified. He spots Allison laughing into Renee’s shoulder just beyond him, the whole group navigating the line between amusement and horror. Renee gives him a thumbs up, and Neil follows her gaze to where Andrew is already looking at him.

They’re dragged the rest of the way out of the bar and deposited on the curb, and the whole affair is ridiculous: their utter silence and stiff compliance, security’s over-performing, the way the lingering smell of smoke calms Neil down so much that he sinks into the wall as soon as arms are gone from around his body.

His head lolls towards Andrew when he hears the twist and spark of a lighter a minute later. Andrew looks at him and then out into the street when he extends a second cigarette in Neil’s direction. Neil shakes his head, mostly to clear it.

“I just like the smell. Thanks, though,” he mumbles.

Andrew accepts this, tucks the cigarette back into the pack, and leans up against the wall beside Neil.

“Nathaniel,” Andrew starts, not cocked to hurt this time, but Neil still flinches.

“Neil. Not—“ God, he’s still drunk. “That’s not my name anymore.”

“Neil,” Andrew corrects smoothly, blowing smoke just right so that the wind carries it into Neil’s face. “You’re welcome.”

#im falling asleep so there might be mistakes man what can u do #aftg #andreil #au #tfc fanfic #prompt #mine #murder mention #so basically..... kevin & andrew were ravens the upperclassmen were part of an unsuccessful team of foxes and neil dealt w his dad in a who #sorry i.. butchered ur prompt I was trying to figure out the logistics of it and this was the only way it clicked for me #Anonymous #ask

555 notes · View notes

iheardyouliketodrink-blog · 7 years

Text

oh yep. this is another one of those millions of ‘magnus and alec’s first meeting re-imagined’ one shots. oops? (˶◕‿◕˶✿)

‘i’m pretending to be ur bff bc u looked VERY uncomfortable with that person at the bar hitting on u’ AU

Alec wasn’t at all sure how, but somehow Jace and Izzy had together managed to convince him to join them on a night out.

Maybe they had told him that they would do some actual work, too, or maybe he really just hadn’t had any self-respect left when the offer was presented, but there he now was – sitting at the bar in Pandemonium all by himself on a Thursday night, looking over his already out-of-their-minds drunk siblings on the dance floor.

“Don’t drink too much, please. I’ll have to get you back to the institute somehow” he’d told them repeatedly on their way there, and he’d gotten quiet hums of agreement in response but of course once they got to the club the plead was long forgotten.

Alec couldn’t fathom why his siblings were the way they were with alcohol because neither one of them needed the liquid courage to be able to charm anything out of anybody. Jace had been in his very element since the second he stepped his foot in, of course, instantly surrounded by about a dozen women, while Izzy was carelessly jumping from vampire to vampire, all smiles, swaying back and forth with her arms around their necks.

Letting out a deep sigh, the shadowhunter turned back towards the counter of the bar only to have a shot glass thrust his way, as if the universe was telling him oh yeah, you’ll need it.

“Um, I didn’t order anything” He said quickly, but the bartender just shrugged and went back to mixing up other drinks.

“I did” A female voice said, and a second later the empty bar stool beside him was occupied by a relatively tall blonde woman with lipstick so bright it could be seen from outer space. “You don’t drink? That’s a pity.”

“No, I don’t” He answered dismissively, pushing the glass back just slightly. “And besides, I’m kind of like the designated driver for my siblings right now.”

The woman laughed, throwing her head back just enough to make her golden hair sparkle under the flashing lights of the club.

“That’s not a thing, now is it?” She asked and took a sip of the pink beverage in her hand. “Like, mundane driving? You don’t do that, do you?”

Alec furrowed his eyebrows. “No.”

“Whew” The girl exclaimed, throwing her hair over her shoulder before focusing her piercing blue eyes back on Alec. “You’re cute and everything, but that’s something I can’t get down with.”

Alec hummed despite his confusion, looking down at his feet, starting to think of creative ways to get out of the situation – preferably as soon as possible. It was tiring enough being stuck in a nightclub predominantly favored by downworlders, but having to deal with unwanted flirting was a level up on a game he wanted no part in.

Just as the girl started talking about how she’d ended up there tonight, Alec felt a hand squeezing his shoulder.

“Ah, Tessa! I see you’ve met my friend, Alexander.”

“Magnus! I guess, yes! Um- “ The girl, Tessa smiled exaggeratedly widely, finishing her drink.

Alec slowly turned to look to his side, and the sight greeting him left him so close to breathless it was terrifying.

Magnus let out a light, careless laugh, and the golden specks of glitter scattered over his cheekbones caught the light in a way that made his entire face glow. The same glitter reached his collarbones and chest as well, and Alec quickly convinced himself that he wouldn’t have even noticed such a thing if the man’s shirt hadn’t been mostly unbuttoned.

Magnus made some remark to Tessa about who Alec could only assume were the group of friends she’d come in with and then turned towards him.

“Alexander, why are you out here all by yourself? I told you that you would get eaten up.”

Alec turned to look from the girl toward his new apparent best friend. “Oh, uh-“ He tried to remain coherent despite being faced with Magnus’ dark, shimmering eyes, finding them nothing short of incredibly distracting and failing miserably. “Yeah.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows slightly, a balanced blend of sympathy and amusement appearing in his eyes, adding yet another dimension to his already layered presence.

He slowly turned his head towards Tessa once more, scrunching up his nose. “It’s his first time here. I told him that our friendship would survive even if he never wanted to visit here, but he is so persistent…” Magnus winked at her.

“Sure” Tessa said chipperly, letting herself down from the bar stool effortlessly despite her eight inch heels. “Well, I’ll be on my way now. Have fun!”

Once the girl had disappeared into the mass of dancing people and Magnus was certain of it, he groaned and sat down on the stool she left vacated. “I’m so sorry about that. Poor Tessa is so sweet, but she doesn’t have a gaydar to save her life” He said, grabbed the shot Alec had rejected earlier and chugged it down in one fluid move.

Alec stared – gaped more like it, at the man, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know how to sit, to act. Hell, he barely knew how to breathe anymore, so he certainly didn’t know how to respond to Magnus’ words regarding his sexuality,

Most of the things he came across in his everyday life were cold and gruesome or just boring – routine, order. Magnus, however, was the total opposite of all of that. His entire exterior screamed spontaneous and radical and in some odd, startling way, warm.

Alec shook his head almost unnoticeably, willing for his brain to function even just the slightest bit to have a somewhat articulate conversation with the gorgeous stranger in front of him.

“Uh, how do you know my name?”

“Oh I’ve met your sister several times. She’s a delight. We’ve gone shopping together on accident more than once.”

Of course, Alec thought. Izzy knew all the beautiful, glamorous people on the face of the earth. He should’ve known to expect that.

“And you’re… Magnus Bane?”

“You say that like you have barely heard of me before” He commented with a hint of a smile, turning to look at Alec. “And here I was thinking you were a Lightwood.”

“Well, I- My parents don’t exactly love downworlders, but…” His already quiet words were faded out by the music, but Magnus let it be.

The shadowhunter was obviously not in his element where he was, and so the discomfort that exuded off of him was understandable. Something about it made Magnus feel like he needed to just take his hand and get him far, far away from the place.

“That is not for you to worry about” He said simply, stirring his drink with the tiny plastic stick in the glass.

“Thanks for, you know-” He vaguely gestured towards the chair Magnus was now sitting on with his hand and then to the dance floor, where his siblings were still fully enjoying themselves, drinks in hand.

Magnus let out an amused chuckle, nodding his head. “I heard her call you cute. That is an atrocious understatement. I only do what I have to.”

Alec chuckled as well, mostly out of disbelief, ducking his head down as he felt the blush creeping in to color his cheeks a faint pink.

Before Alec could get his brain to stop short-circuiting enough to form some coherent response to Magnus, Izzy stumbled over to them and landed on Alec’s lap.

“Alec, do we ever have to leave? I love this place, Magnus, you’re just the best!” She giggled, making Magnus laugh in turn.

“Touché, my dear.”

Alec stood up slowly, looping an arm around his sister’s waist as he did. “I don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you’re going to die of alcohol poisoning if we don’t leave soon and you are not dying on my watch.”

“Big brother, you’re always a buzzkill” Izzy remarked, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

“I agree to disagree, Isabelle” Magnus winked, setting down his empty martini glass with delicate fingers.

This was the moment Jace decided to join them, grabbing Izzy’s hand and lifting it up triumphantly. “I just got five more phone numbers. I’m never going back to the institute.”

Alec turned to look at his parabatai, his eyes comically wide. “Okay, no. We’re going right now.”

The warlock chuckled softly. “Goodbye, Alexander.”

“Yeah, bye” Alec kind-of smiled at Magnus before turning around and allowing Jace to grab his arm as they went if only so that he could be sure that he was actually following.

That smile of his took mere seconds to fade, and even drunk out of her mind Isabelle looked up at him and saw just that.

“Hey, don’t you worry. I gave him your number the first time I met him” She said with a warm grin.

Alec glanced at her, thinking of questioning her words for a moment before realizing that there was no way she was lying. He also thought about scolding her for it, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away before he could.

#i can't believe myself tbh #imma just go hide now good day #shadowhunters #malec #malec fanfiction #malec fic #just aaalll the tags

19 notes · View notes