#(which would actually be quite nice if I hadn’t been alone for the last 4 weeks already 🤡🤡)

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5

Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!

In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.

Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.

“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.

Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.

“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”

Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”

“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”

Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.

“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”

“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.

When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”

Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.

~

Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.

It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.

Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.

The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.

“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”

Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”

Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.

Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”

Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.

As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”

He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”

He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”

Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”

When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”

“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”

Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”

“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”

“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.

Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”

Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.

Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.

~

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.

There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.

It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.

“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”

A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”

“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”

“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”

Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”

Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”

Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”

Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”

Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”

Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”

“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”

“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”

“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”

Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”

“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”

Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”

That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”

“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.

“Yeah.”

“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”

Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.

~

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

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[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 4 - SANCTUARY

“Oh shit!” Torr says, startling enough that he jabs his knee into the corner of the table. “I forgot your presents!”

They’re in the kitchen, the lot of them – Torr and Nazir and Gabriella and Babette, gathered around the long dining table, Torr’s pack slung over a chair back, his bare feet tracking cave dirt over the rug laid so neatly over the stark rock floor. It’s a good place to be, the kitchen; drier than most of the other rooms and always smells nice. And it’s where the food is. (Torr doesn’t take any of it outside of mealtimes unless they want it enough to ask – half because they don’t want to overstep, half because the others are insistent about eating patterns – but they come in sometimes to look at it anyway. It’s nice to know it’s there.) They’re kind of hungry now, actually; might ask for something once Nazir’s done with crossing things off the books and once they’ve given their gifts.

Which won’t take long. They’re not very big gifts.

But it felt important to get something. Torr was out on his first series of jobs, the lees of the Brotherhood’s stagnant backlog of contracts, and the idea of coming back to that bone-patterned door empty-handed was unconscionable. Maybe it’s an ingrained etiquette thing, though Torr’s never been much for social mores. Maybe it’s recompense.

(It’s definitely recompense.)

Torr still doesn’t know them very well, everyone else here. And on one hand, there was the impulse to keep every coin he was given for travel to send back home, like he promised he would. Like he promised. But on the other hand – on the other hand, he has to weigh new trousers and tunics that don’t make him sweat in Falkreath’s moderate weather, and an always-lit hearth, and three meals a day. With extra, if they need it. Blankets. A bed for them alone. Raw stone ceilings. Armour and new knives. Books. Gabriella helping them read. Veezara teaching them swordplay. Babette teaching them alchemy. Soap. Nazir letting them help cook even though they’re pretty sure that Nazir finds them a bit annoying. Quiet, when no-one’s yelling. Relative privacy. A designated space in the study. A cloak for travelling. Everything, everything in the world. Torr still doesn’t know them very well and it’s still weird and it probably will never not be, but they’ve made it better. Good, even, sometimes. They’ve been so kind and given so much and it makes Torr’s stomach hurt. He had to do something.

Something besides the jobs. Which went well, he thinks, relatively speaking. They got done. No near misses with the law or anything of that sort. He’d felt a bit bad for the one man – the poor scrub-beggar holed up in the remains of a long since ruined house. Reminded him of Silda, a little. A shame for him – if he’d only been born in Windhelm, he might have been one of the people Torr is doing this for, rather than a casualty.

It hadn’t felt good. But hunger and frostbite feel worse. So.

In any case, there’s none of that in the kitchen – just the ever-roaring fireplace, Nazir barely raising his eyes from his writings, Babette leaning so far over the table that Torr’s afraid she’ll topple her chair. “You got us presents!” she says delightedly, chin pressed to the tabletop. “Ah, you’re such a darling.”

Torr shrugs, turning to undo the ties of his pack. “Don’t get too excited. They’re small.”

Lounging catlike against the wall, Gabriella says, “It was very generous of you all the same.”

It really wasn’t, but Torr isn’t going to argue.

They dig out the first of the squashed little parcels, tied with fraying string, and slide it across the table so it bumps into Nazir’s book. Impassively, he checks off one last thing in his book before picking it up and lifting an edge of the waxpaper.

(Torr really wishes he would make facial expressions more often. Or do something embarrassing. Just so they wouldn’t find him quite so intimidating.)

He huffs out a breath. “What she said,” he says, failing to clarify which she he’s talking about, and turns to do something with a cabinet off to the side.

Torr lets it be, dragging out the next two of the too-many packages clogging up his old pack.  “I was up in Danstrar, near the port, and I saw this little stall selling these. They looked nice, and I thought – oh.” The first sugared nuts tumble into Gabriella’s hand, narrowly avoiding falling to the floor, and she oohs in appreciation; Babette, red-eyed and knife-toothed, looks, at least, amused. Torr says, “Shit.”

The Brotherhood’s blood-eater buries her nose in her treat parcel and comes up grinning. “Don’t worry. It’s a nice sentiment. And they smell nice, at any rate.”

“Shit,” Torr repeats. He presses his fist to his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t – I think I forgot?”

What use would she have for candied almonds? Damn it. They were expensive, too – sold right off the ships, imported from somewhere down the south of Cyrodiil, or something. Though that’s a relatively minor thing (Nine, the cost is a relatively minor thing!) – this was supposed to be something nice. A little luxury, like all the things he’s been afforded since he arrived. To forget that Babette doesn’t eat (doesn’t eat food) is so ridiculous. All the time that he had to remember, too! Hell, he feels an idiot.

(He feels a bit worse than that, truth be told. For the first time in memory Torr has nothing worth giving; sitting around like a lump while comfort is showered upon him – when he hasn’t even sent the kids any money yet, when he can’t get the simplest gesture right – doesn’t agree with him.)

“Sorry,” he says again. His voice is muffled around his knuckles. “I’ll get you something else, next time I go out.”

Babette is smiling. She flaps a hand. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, pressing down on one sugar-bright nut with a narrow finger; her face goes contemplative. “I used to have these at festivals, when I was a little girl. Actually a little girl. It’s sweet.”

Torr keeps chewing at the rough, frostnipped skin of his fingers.

There’s a noise, then – sudden and distracting – as Nazir shuts the cupboard door and drops a slouching corded pouch on the table. Torr jumps.

“Payment,” Nazir says, simply; the corner of his mouth is ticked up. “Usually we handle it in notes, but I suspected you’d want something a little more tangible. I dug this out of the safe.”

(The bag is dull yellow leather, seamed and sagging with age. Its string trails lazily over the table. It was loud. It looks heavy.)

“Tangible is good,” Torr says faintly, and reaches out to pull it closer to them with the crook of a bitten finger. It’s heavy, scrapes hair-raisingly across the tabletop as it moves. The lip of the bag lolls half-open, the cord like a hanging-out tongue. They pull it properly open.

There’s no coins.

Torr’s whole life he’s dealt in coins – shittily minted, dull grey and chicken yellow, so light a faint breeze could rip them from his hand. Ratty hacksilver, once or twice. This is bullion – bars and sticks and chunks of metal glittering in the hearth-light, cold and weighty to the touch. There are pendants too, for hack, one containing what looks like some kind of gemstone? Maybe fake – would it be rude to bite it right now? What’s Torr on about, he wouldn’t know the difference even if it were between his teeth.

Niranye would know. Torr needs to contact Niranye – no, tell Talres to talk to Niranye, and be wary of anything she says that doesn’t sound right. She’ll try to con him if she thinks she can get away with it. Torr will have to send weights, value estimations – they’ll need to ask Nazir – need to figure out how to even send this safely, what feels like half a ton of silver and half that on top in gold. If they should send it all at once, or separately, and on what cart? Would it be worth the expense to hire someone to keep it safe? Does he need to tell the kids how to use it, or – no, they’ll figure it out, surely; Katla’s canny and far too worldly-wise for her age, and she might make stupid decisions sometimes but she wouldn’t mess this up. She knows what they need. Then there’s that debt to Nurelion that Torr never paid off – normally they wouldn’t bother, but the old alchemist taught them so much surely it’s the least they could do. They’ll get some of it to Ambarys if they can (though he’ll never accept charity), and Silda –

“It’s all there,” Nazir says drily, cutting through their racing thoughts; when Torr looks at him, his lips are pulling, and they feel very distinctly that they’re being laughed at.

Their fingers, still dirty with travel grime they haven’t washed off since they got back half an hour ago, leave smudges along the polished surface of the bars. They’ll ask Astrid – she’ll know the inns and outs of moving this kind of wealth across the province. She’ll know.

(Nine hundred or so, Nazir said it should be. Nine.) Torr pulls his fingers back as reverently as if he’d been touching a holy object. “Thank you,” he says – head feeling like some dizzy winged thing about to detach and fly off into the clouds – and leans the heel of his hand on the table. “Um. Gabriella. I need to write a letter. Can you –”

“I’ll help,” Gabriella says, and damn it all, she’s got her fingers pressed to her mouth like they can hold it still; she’s laughing at him too.

But there’s a leather bag of almost a thousand septims on the table and Torr’s too giddy to get indignant. “Thank you,” he repeats, half-dazed.

Babette prods at him with her knuckles; when he looks down, her gleaming eyes are fixed on his face, three sugared nuts rolling around in the palm of her outstretched hand.

“What?” Torr asks.

Babette rolls her eyes. “Come on, Torr. You’re a big kid. You can feed yourself.”

Torr blinks. Their finger curls around the dangling drawstring of Nazir’s leather pouch. “What?” they repeat; shake their head, say, “No, it’s yours. It’s for you.”

“It’s mine,” Babette echoes, “and I’m not going to eat it, and it’s my choice who does. Take the nuts.” The points of her teeth look wicked sharp in the firelight; her face is soft and gauzy as the childhood neither of them ever had.

Torr got them for her. Fresh off the Danstrar port, grown in the south of Cyrodiil, in the far-away sun they’ve never touched; Torr got them for her, for all of the rest of them. It was all they knew how to do.

“You’re not going to make me feed you,” Babette says, imperious.

Torr takes the nuts. They taste of sugar and fine-spun sunshine.

[construingseacats]

Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Chapter 12: Occult   

Sun, Oct 5 1986 - 1:00PM

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

Off to an interesting start here. No-one put up a stink about this? After we spent so long talking about how the servants are some of the most likely culprits, and potentially in on it together, we just let the 3 of them go off by themselves to make food?

I suppose there’s a mix of “we’re hungry and we want to eat” and no-one wanting to be left alone with them, but still, it kind of feels like we skipped over a scene here. If you’re going to be thorough everywhere else, it feels weird to not be thorough here.

Funny to see Kumasawa drop the mask here. Yeah, the two of them were real busy last night, in the early hours of the morning. Honestly this is one of the most incriminating things we’ve seen so far, I’m surprised more people don’t pick up on it. Does the given story of what they’ve been doing this morning really justify how tired Genji and Kanon are?

This is actually a weird scene as well - after the nods to their part in the first twilight, they start talking about the case as if they weren’t involved? They don’t really have a reason to have this discussion in reality, and it’s also weird to think of it as a fantasy scene, since it’s just pure misdirection for the sake of it.

Ah, okay, Battler shows up - so we’re firmly in reality, and this was a conversation they were indeed having. I don’t know, this still feels really off to me - either they were doing this on the chance that someone showed up, which seems overly orchestrated, or they somehow heard someone coming, which wasn’t particularly choreographed to us. Like, I suppose the former could apply - there’s no downside to not doing it, in the same way that you have nothing to lose by shouting “I know you can hear me” while in an empty room - but the whole thing just feels too contrived to me.

Just highlighting this before I put it in a nice box and leave it to the side for one moment. Don’t worry about it.

(While I can scroll back the text when I want to revisit something, I sure can’t do the same for portraits. Apologies - maybe I’ll go back and re-grab all these screens once I unlock chapter select after Episode 4, but no promises.)

This is quite the line for Battler to be saying while standing next to Kanon.

I like this little ploy here - even if it doesn’t really amount to anything, especially since Battler can’t actually die until the end, it would be startlingly effective otherwise in disproving the omniscience of the culprit. If Natsuhi hadn’t left the charm in such an obvious place that it was discovered upon entering the room, Episode 1 would have fallen apart (although I suppose then you could make the argument that the charm had to be left on the door to work, but at that point you’re stuck on the defensive).

Another one of the big lines from Episode 1 I’d say - heavy statement of the premise. I’d say this is like a rallying cry of arguments across the entire internet, but let’s be real, most arguments are about trying to force your beliefs on someone else.

So I haven’t really talked about “The North Wind and the Sun” yet, even though it’s been alluded to a few times. Umineko does draw on it quite a bit, pushing the parable and the moral of… Well, what’s written above.

At this point, I’m wondering if the main significance of the parable’s presence is a reflection of the writing itself. The North Wind and the Sun are not blowing and shining on any characters, but on the reader themselves. Because of how Umineko layers the deductive reasoning from the characters, letting you walk alongside them and be guided by their thoughts, you’re more likely to go along with the misdirection than challenge it when it’s given to you as immutable fact. I suppose in that sense, removing the coat in the parable is a negative thing - a sign that you’ve been influenced by others to do what you otherwise wouldn’t. There’s probably a little more to this line of thinking that would be best suited to having a proper reflection and rumination about it rather than pseudo-ramblings resulting from a live commentary.

I read this line, moved on, then immediately started making whooping noises and had to go back immediately.

Are we going into the gender commentary this early? Glad to see Umineko saying trans rights already.

Anyway - this section isn’t a perfect 1:1 reflection of transgender topics and growing up with a desire to be different from what you were born as, but the seeds are absolutely here, primed for nurturing later down the line. Having been almost entirely oblivious to the gender dialogue on my initial readthrough, I’m very excited to see it explored this time around, given how personal the topic is to me now.

The section talking about adults looking down on kids because of their lack of experience is very fun. At 17, I remember reading this and going “Yeah! That’s exactly right!”, while still viewing myself through the lens of being so intelligent and mature for my age. At 27, it still holds up entirely accurately, and I can confidently look at my 17 year old self and call them an idiot.

The conversation at large does seem to mostly be an exposition dump trying to justify Maria’s identity split, but it’s not too bad since Ryukishi’s done a good job of giving all the cousins some lines that carry the conversation while also clearly representing their personality. Like, George definitely leans the most into textbook regurgitation, but it’s still done in a way that feels natural for him. I’m still not entirely convinced on the justification of Maria switching to creepy girl on a dime, but it doesn’t necessarily ruin the story for me at this point.

There’s the social worker side of Ryukishi coming out. Mildly ironic to say given the conversation we’ve just had, but that’s absolutely spoken from experience.

Eva once again going heavy on the offensive.

I do wonder if Eva and Hideyoshi were filled in on Kinzo being dead, or whether they’re just doing this on their own whims. I could see either being the case, depending on how much Yasu wanted to reveal to them.

Okay yeah, as this scene goes on, definitely leaning towards them having been informed of Kinzo’s prior death. Pretty clever gambit to implicate Natsuhi outright - although, of course, the whole thing falls foul of Eva being trustworthy here. She could easily be lying about seeing the receipt fall from the same place (or falling at all - I’d have to double check Natsuhi’s exact words to see how much leeway Eva has here).

Chalk another one up for the Natsuhi suffering arc. She’s not even allowed to keep her pep talk that she gave herself in the study.

Yeah that seals the deal, Eva absolutely knows about Kinzo dying a couple years ago.

I do have a morbid curiosity to see the fragment where the answer to this question is “yes”, immediately followed by gunfire.

The overly aggressive strategy starts to backfire here. Again, if this were a social deduction game, Eva would be ridiculously suspicious from how hard she’s trying to pin it on other people.

And scene.

Despite being one of the longer chapters, there’s not an awful lot to analyse here honestly - this chapter leans a lot more into the mystery side of things, and while that’s still interesting to read (and what first time readers are mostly here for), there’s not a lot of points worth dissecting and delving deeper into. Of course, that’s just from my perspective - I have no doubt that other people have dug deep into this and found interesting nuggets of subtext that I can’t even conceive of.

[gayandvibin]

One day,,, I will be free of all these fucking asignmence,,

But until that day here’s the first sketch I’ve done in months that I actually like the look of.

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities​ @jimidol​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ @thebeebi​ @preciouschimine​ @ladyartemesia​ @moonchild1​ @jikookiekosmos​ @marcoazz2​ @kootaes​ @wearenot7withu​ @codeinebelle​ @bigbootyjoonie​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @maichiverse​ @ppeachyttae​ @fairysunooo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @yukiehyukie​

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

[graaythekwami]

The Little Things - ML One-Shot

(Spoilers for the season 4 episode Hack-San)

-------

"Out for a solo patrol, Chat Noir?"

Chat Noir jumped slightly, not quite use to hearing an unfamiliar voice up here on the rooftops, and turned. The figure was standing on a chimney a ways from him, the reds of her costume matching the setting sun.

"Scarabella?" Chat Noir said, looking at the temporary Ladybug heroine he had met the other day. His surprise quickly gave way to worry, eyes widening slightly. "Did something happen to Ladybug? Is there an akuma out right now? Is–"

Scarabella held up her hands, but didn't come closer. "No no no, everything is okay– I just wanted to talk to you, that's all, and Ladybug said you often did some patrols in the evening..."

He gave a tight smile, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Not really a patrol, not like what me and M'Lady do when we patrol. It's just... to get some fresh air, I suppose."

He was slightly startled when he turned and found Scarabella walking towards him, as he hadn't heard her steps. She had some papers in her hands, and an uncertain smile on her face. She paused a little ways away from him.

"Is it okay if we talk for a bit?" Scarabella asked. "I don't have a lot of time, and then I can leave you to your... 'patrol'."

"What's up?" Chat Noir asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. His feelings on Scarabella were... mixed. She was an ally and she had spirit, but he would be lying if he said there was no bitterness when he thought about her. About what she knew and why she was there.

"I... I wanted to just show you this," Scarabella said, holding up the papers in her hand, before carefully setting it down on the roof near him, before retreating back slightly. "I had to edit out a few 'tips' for identity reasons, and Ladybug doesn't know I'm showing this to you, but considering my sudden appearance I figured maybe it would help if you saw it."

Chat glanced at the papers, then back at the spare heroine. "I don't want to go behind Ladybug's back."

Scarabella blinked, then let out a small laugh. "Oh, no, no, it's not like it's something I can't show you. It's just the list of tips she gave me of how to be Ladybug while she was gone."

"Okay?"

Scarabella smiled. "Read them, would you? Please?"

Chat Noir looked at the papers, before carefully picking them up and unfolding them. Sure enough he found a list of 'tips', each one carefully numbered off. His eyes scanned down the list, noting a few numbers were missing, which must have been the editing she had been referring to.

Chat Noir's eyes jumped back up to the top, and began reading. He could tell right away that it was indeed written by his Lady, and he could almost hear her voice as he read.

Tip 1 - Keep the earrings in at all times, they are easy to misplace. DO NOT TAKE THEM OFF.

Tip 2 - Always have sweets for Tikki on hand.

Tip 3 - Not just for recharging if an akuma appears, make sure you have something she can snack on if she's hungry.

Tip 4 - No. Seriously. Holders know no fury like a kwami starved.

Chat Noir snickered, knowing fully well what she meant. His interactions with Tikki had been limited, and she had been a very sweet kwami. Ladybug told pretty much the same story... except for the times she didn't have cookies or macarons on hand for her kwami. It turned out the little Ladybug kwami was just as passionate about her sweets as Plagg was with his cheese.

Tip 11 - Tell Chat Noir what's going on right away if an akuma shows up. Since I wasn't able to talk my way into staying in Paris like I thought I didn't get time to tell him I was leaving.

Tip 12 - If you see Chat Noir patrolling at night don't worry, it doesn't mean there's an akuma or somewhere you need to take my place. My Kitty is a free spirit and Paris is our city.

Tip 13 - Leave out croissants for him if he happens to come by where you are on patrol.

Tip 14 - The chocolate covered ones are his favorite. Chat loves anything with passion fruit too.

Tip 15 - Chat Noir likes any kind of sweets, actually, but try to get him his favorites if you can.

There was a small smile on his face as he read, eyes carefully looking over each word, warmth in his heart. The tips soon drifted back towards things regarding the Miraculous, a good dozen involving Lucky Charms and explaining how the yoyo worked.

Tip 25 - Lucky Charms might be bigger than you think! Be prepared to leapt out of the way in case a piano comes crashing down instead of a pencil.

Tip 26 - Don't ask Tikki to explain Lucky Charms. She'll be vague and she'll do it on purpose.

Tip 27 - Don't try to force a Lucky Charm to work. It's just kind of instinctual? I don't know how to describe it.

Tip 28 - Ask Chat Noir for help if the Lucky Charm is too confusing. He's been Misterbug before and has helped me defeat villains with countless Lucky Charms.

Tip 29 - Just ask Chat Noir if you have any questions, he's a professional.

Tip 30 - Don't ask him so many questions though that you stress him out! Akuma fights are hard enough and with him being the most experienced he'll have enough to worry about without a bunch of questions.

Tip 31 - Just follow Kitty's lead, he knows what to do.

Tip 32 - Chat Noir has good instincts and enhanced senses, listen to him.

Tip 33 - When Chat Noir makes a joke try to laugh, even if you think it's not funny. It makes him happy. :)

"My jokes are always funny, My Lady!" Chat Noir exclaimed in protest, though there was a smile on his face.

Tip 34 - Make sure Chat Noir is happy.

Tip 35 - Don't make fun of his purring, he's self conscious about it even though it's adorable. (He embraces everything cat except for the purring, I don't know why.)

Tip 36 - Purring doesn't always mean he's happy! Cats can purr when they're hurt! If he takes a hit and you hear him purr then you got to defeat the akuma as quickly as possible! Sooner you can cast the Miraculous Ladybugs the sooner Chat Noir isn't hurting!

Tip 37 - Don't let Chat Noir take any hits for you.

Tip 38 - Seriously. He does that way too much and I don't like watching it. Stupid self-sacrificing cat. Make sure he stays safe.

Tip 39 - Or else.

"These aren't even tips at this point!" He said, holding back a laugh.

"She does that a lot," Scarabella said with a fond smile. "With 675 'tips' a good chunk of them are ramblings."

"Six hundred and what-?" Chat said, quickly flicking through the papers and towards the end. Sure enough the very last one stared back up at him, the same number as Scarabella had promised.

Tip 675 - When you say "Miraculous Ladybug" don't forget to throw the Lucky Charm.

He flicked back a few more pages, eyes scanning the various notes that had been left. Many were just like he had expected when Scarabella had first told him what the list was: advice on what to do with different types of akumas, how the timer worked, tips for finding the akumatized object, and what to say to a victim after they were freed from Shadow Moth's control.

But then there were others, small little mentions of him and things he hadn't even realized his Lady knew or noticed, things he didn't know people cared about.

Tip 142 - If Chat Noir is dismissive with how his day has gone crack a few jokes. He tries to cover up when he's had a bad day and this is the best way to lift his spirits.

Tip 143 - Chat Noir loves hugs. Quick hugs, tight hugs, long hugs, he adores them.

Tip 144 - Chat likes to be scratched under the chin and behind his faux ears. It makes him purr, but don't mention the purring (see tip 36).

Tip 145 - Chat Noir is a cuddler.

Tip 146 - Ignore all the last few tips. Respect Chat Noir's personal space.

Tip 147 - But don't be distant either, support him! Fist bumps, pats on the back, you know, be friendly.

Tip 148 - You better be nice to my Kitty. I'll be watching all akuma coverage.

Tip 149 - No booping Chat Noir on the nose. That's our thing.

Tip 150 - No bonking him with the yoyo, carrying him in your arms, or using the nicknames 'chaton' or 'kitty', again those are our things, not yours.

Tip 151 - You can use the nicknames 'Chat' or 'CN'.

Tip 152 - He may kiss your hand. Chat Noir is a gentleman, don't let the costume fool you.

"M'lady..." Chat Noir said softly.

Tip 355 - Let Chat Noir handle the media, he's a pro at that.

Tip 356 - Don't leave him alone to deal with all the reporters though, that's a lot of pressure.

Tip 357 - Chat's ears and tail can tell you a lot about how he's feeling. I've read a lot of cat behavior articles and it's helped me a lot.

"Hey!" Chat Noir protested, even though his Lady wasn't here to see it.

Tip 598 - If anyone makes any comment about Chat Noir being dangerous or being a sidekick, you don't hold back.

Tip 599 - If it's a reporter that makes this comment give me their name and who they work for so I can make sure they never get an interview from the heroes again.

Tip 600 - Send Chat Noir a cat meme on the yoyo to cheer him up if anyone does say anything about him.

"I need to go," Scarabella said softly. "Feel free to keep those, I... I just wanted you to know that she was thinking about you. You mean a lot to her, Kittycat."

Chat Noir looked up at Scarabella, vision blurring slightly, but a smile was on his face. "I don't think 'Kittycat' was on the list of approved nicknames, Scar."

Scarabella scowled. "Well I can tell you that one isn't on my list of approved nicknames either."

Chat Noir grinned. "I'm sure it will grow on you."

"Purrhaps," Scarabella said, before giving a salute and a smile. She then tossed her yoyo, swinging away. Chat Noir watched her for a moment, before looking back down at the list he had been given.

He smiled, holding the papers close to his chest as he laid down on the roof, letting out a happy sigh.

[blackenedwhite97]

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again.  “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop?  How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him.  “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled.  “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked.  “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly.  “I promise that’s not why I hired him.  I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained.  “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded.  “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm.  “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment.  He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.  

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie.  “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully.  “You think so?”

“Totally.  You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter.  Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer.  The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights.  “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress.  You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.  

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.  

Seeing him always made your heart stop.  At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much.  Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered.  But since the break-up, and now, it was something else.  Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him.  It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once.  Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang.  Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing.  The first time you said ‘I love you.’  The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts.  You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.  

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe?  And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

//

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early.  Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then?  And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered.  “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go.  He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.  

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod.  “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.  

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes.  Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had.  “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips.  Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked.  It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky.  “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are.  The way we are.  And neither is your new guy.  He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he?  He doesn’t get what it’s like.  Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it.  “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm.  “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned.  “It’s always about other people with you.  It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us.  You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head.  “I was single for years and you never called.  Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it?  Get a grip, Sam.  This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously.  “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest.  “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body.  He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped.  “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.  

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow.  He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.  

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine.  Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing. 

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?  Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants.  “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him.  “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time.  It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it?  Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway?  Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally.  He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak.  He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress.  "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused.  "What did I do?  Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock.  "Do you really not realize what you did?  Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed.  "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?!  I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?!  Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you?  Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What?  What do I think?" you challenged.  "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her?  Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something?  Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously.  His fist tightened at his side involuntarily.  He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you.  "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly.  "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up?  Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back.  He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you.  All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist.  When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

[enjennie]

Our Little Secret [Jaemin x Reader]

summary: How you ended up dating Na Jaemin and the struggles in hiding it from your brother Jeno.

genre: smut! fluff. secret relationship! au. brother's bestfriend au lmao

warnings: contains smut and profanity

a/n: hello! I've taken a really long break in writing and ALSO this is my first try in writing smut. Please excuse my inexperienced and beginner level in writing! enjoy ♡

On a normal day, you’d wake up at 8am nice and early to attend classes. But today was a weekend, and you hadn’t gotten much sleep thanks to your brother and his friends doing God knows in your backyard. Thus, explaining the hour in which you'd just woken up in being later than usual. You were just about to go down to get your first meal of the day at quarter to 12 in the afternoon.

“Hey, idiots! Call it a night, why don’t you?” You remember yelling through the window last night, scolding the boys.

You don’t know why you weren’t used to it yet. Every end of the month there would be boys night. Their favourite place to goof around in just so happened to be yours. Your parents were away on most nights, leaving their son in charge of the house more than not.

“Ya, Y/N! Go to bed,” yells Jeno, your brother who was the host of the night. You scowled and he does the same back at you. With heavy hands, you shut the window and wished it would block the noise out.

It was around 4 when you finally fell into a deep sleep, your earphones finally drowning out their screaming. No other reason as to why it took you that long to fall asleep at all. None at all. It wasn’t like you were waiting for a particular someone to slip into your room to give you some goodnight kisses.

Totally. Yeah, totally untrue. The truth is that you were waiting for Na Jaemin. You’ve been fooling around with him for a month now and you may or may not have asked him to come up for a bit.

You and Jaemin have been friends since your brother brought him home after school one day when you were little. Since then he’d become a familiar face around the house, always hanging about.

Unlike the other friends of your brother, Jaemin was different. Aside from being your brother’s closest friend, he wasn’t as wild and rowdy but rather calm and dare I say… maternal? He had the same vibe of a Kindergarten teacher. The other boys relied on him for advice and if they needed help with anything that had to do with adulting. You even caught Jaemin separating Jeno’s white and coloured clothes once and giving your brother an earful of why he should be doing them himself.

It all started when you came home one day, face strained with tears and mascara running down your cheeks. You’ve gotten dumped. The shittiest feeling ever. Jaemin just so happened to be passing by the house to drop over some video games he borrowed from Jeno when he saw you running towards the door. Before he could ask you what was wrong, you were already sobbing into his arms.

He's always been someone you found comfort in. You knew your feeling would just never be reciprocated so you did everything in your will to forget about it. But at that moment it just felt right, and Jaemin just so happened to be there at a time you needed someone the most.

You took him inside for some water and maybe a new change of shirt since you’d stained his with mascara. You didn’t expect to kiss him. You didn’t expect the kiss to lead into sex either. But soon enough your clothes travelled to the ground and you were pushing Jaemin into the pantry, too impatient to go up to your room but at the same time wanting a little privacy.

“Is this okay?” he breathed, hands roaming around your body in the dark. “I mean- your brother-“ he stutters.

“-isn’t here. Now make me feel good, Jaemin. Please,” you cut his sentence off. The last thing you wanted to think about before hooking up was your brother.

Your plea was the only push Jaemin needed. He was just helping you feel better after a breakup. Right? It’s not like he had underlying feelings for you since the first time Jeno introduced him to you. Right? Wrong again.

Jaemin knew things wouldn’t be the same for him after this, and he didn’t know if it was good or bad. Fuck, could I have at least told her I like her first? Jaemin was having an inner conflict all the while you were getting rid of his clothes bit by bit and touching him in places that felt so heavenly.

“Y/N, I like you,” he spat out.

You giggled, but you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t jump with joy. “Woah, I know we’re about to have sex but you don’t have to confess to me, y’know. It’s fine,” He really didn't have to make your heart flutter like that. You'd accepted it was just sex and you'd pretend nothing ever happened after this.

He took you by the shoulders and stood in front of him. He was glad the lights were off, so you wouldn’t see him all flustered. “No, Y/N. I actually like you. I like you a lot,”

The silence in the pantry was deafening and Jaemin swears he could hear his heart beating through his own ears waiting for your response. Instead, he feels your warm lips on his. Nothing could have been a better response.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I had to date so many jerks to try and get over you,” you whisper. Jaemin was grinning. He wanted the lights on now. He wanted to see you and hear what you just said to him. But he couldn’t find the switches so he just leaned in for another kiss.

The house is a mess and when you get to the living room you catch a glimpse of your brother and some of his friends laying on the couch and on the floor. Red cups and the TV playing on mute. You shake your head and sigh, knowing he’d get you to help him clean it up after. You don’t notice that the 7 boys in the living room was missing one.

When you get to the kitchen, you found the one missing boy from the group. Jaemin was up, flipping cooking up a breakfast. Compared to the living room, the kitchen was relatively clean. Only bowls, measuring cups and plates surrounded him for the pancakes he was cooking up.

He notices your presence and turns his head to face you, his smile instantly appearing on his pretty face.

“Morning, baby,” he greets, a sweet smile plastered on his face.

“Good morning,” you travel across the kitchen to get closer to him and take a peep of what he was cooking. His eyes follow you and he gets back to flipping the pancakes he had on the pan. He has to tear his eyes away from you.

You were clearly wearing his shirt. Getting braver, I see. You and him haven’t told anyone about the relationship yet. Not even Jeno. Jaemin’s been feeling horrible about it, but he wasn’t telling him only because you weren’t ready yet.

“You hungry? I made just enough for everyone,” he offers, directing his focus to the stove. The plate already had 10 steaming pancakes on it. It could probably fit 7 hungover boys and one starving you, right?

"Go set the table,” he doesn’t wait for your response because he knew without having to get one.

To your left were the plates and utensils already stacked and ready to go so you take them to set the table. The boys were still asleep so you tiptoe your way past them and quietly prepare the table. Jaemin follows suit, letting the smell of pancakes alone do the waking up for his friends. Although he wishes they take their time.

You take a seat, ready to dig in and he takes the seat beside you.

🔞 smut starts here

“Y/N, what would you say if I were to take you right now?” Jaemin’s question came out cool and easy, but it caused you to choke on the orange juice you were drinking.

You look to your right, where not too far away was your brother and his other friends in their slumber. Jaemin’s lips tug into a smirk at your reaction as he takes a bite of pancake.

“Pardon?” you ask, not quite believing what you’d just heard.

Jaemin leans closer to your ear this time before whispering, “I was asking what you’d do if I took you right now in the pantry,” his hand was reaching for the maple syrup beside you at the same time.

He sits back and uncaps it before pouring it slowly over his pancake. You watch him pour the smooth and sticky liquid and he watches as you bite down on your lip. He knew you were upset with him for not coming up to your room last night. But he simply couldn’t without being seen. He wanted to make it up to you for that.

“Your call,” he gets up and makes his way to the pantry room. You notice that the lights don’t go on from the small crack on the floor. After one last look at the living room, you take quick steps to follow him.

The moment you get through the door, Jaemin has you against the cabinet, his lips hungry and wanting.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t do this last night,” he apologizes, biting your lips and earning a whimper from you.“They didn’t pass out until 4:30 and I figured you were asleep,” He was explaining but you were already way passed it.

You didn’t care anymore. Nothing else mattered, you just wanted him. “I don’t care,” you whisper.

Jaemin pushed through your shorts and felt you through your lace panties. You’d worn it just in case he came last night. "That’s what you missed out on,” you tell him and he chuckles.

Not wasting another second, Jaemin pushes the lace out of the way and inserts one finger. You gasp, holding onto him for support as your knees weakened at his touch.

“Let me make it up to you,” he bites on your earlobe before adding a second finger.

He starts pumping, setting his own pace and removing any tiredness you felt from having to wait for him all night. When he curls his fingers you’re sent into nirvana, and when he starts sucking on your neck on the spot he knows you like, you couldn’t help but let a moan slip.

Jaemin’s hand clamps over your mouth. His eyes had had adjusted to the dark and he could see your expression. You stare at him with wanting eyes and it’s enough for him to keep going, fastening the pace.

When the knot in your stomach tightens, you claw on Jaemin’s back and he picks up on the signal and hoists you onto the counter before lowering himself and pulling the lace down all the way. You spread yourself, awaiting him and when he presses his mouth to your heat. You're immediately thrown into a whole other world, tangling your fingers in his hair and gasping for air with each time you feel his tongue trace your folds. Soon enough, you were releasing onto him and Jaemin was lapping it up clean.

As you came down from your high he’d gotten up and was watching you with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Fuck,” you manage to say, too dumbed out to make out any other words to explain what you felt.

You feel him kiss your forehead before he whispers to you again, “We gotta go,”

You nod, gulping and try to compose yourself. You grab a box of cereal blindly in case Jeno and his friends were already awake and would be suspicious of them before following Jaemin to the door. He gives you another kiss before pulling the door open.

Just as you’d suspected, your brother had just gotten up from the couch and was walking in at the same time you’d gotten out. He looked at you both skeptically, but his hangover probably made it hard for him to process anything. He takes a seat and yawns. The rest of the boys enter the room after him.

“That’s my cereal,” Jeno points out at the Frosty Flakes you were carrying. Jaemin had taken his seat and continued eating the pancake he left like he wasn’t just eating something else a minute ago.

“Jaemin said he wanted some. So I showed him where it was,” you shrug before placing it on the table and grabbing your plate of half-eaten pancake. “Seeya,” you tell them, but it was directed to Jaemin.

“Seriously, do you take your brother for such an idiot to think he doesn’t suspect anything between us?” Jaemin sighs.

You could hear his heart beating steadily, finally calming down after the strenuous activity you’d just done. You have your head resting on his chest and you’ve been observing it, the pace and how it seemed to doubled when you traced lines along his arm.

You laugh, “I don’t think he’s an idiot. I find it a little fun to be hiding something from him,”

Jaemin didn’t find it fun at all. To him it felt like he was betraying Jeno. You knew how guilty Jaemin feels which is why you’d conjured a little plan. Some would probably say it’s going too far, but you called it a test of love. You knew Jeno had probably figured it out anyway.

“Don’t worry, he’s a big boy. Besides, he always says you’re like a brother to him. So why don’t I make you his brother-in law?”

You sit up to look at the boy in the dim lighting of his room. He looked glorious, basking in the only light source that came through his window from the moon. He brings up a hand to caress your cheek and you felt safe. It felt like home.

“Na Jaemin, what are you doing?”

The voice made Jaemin jump. It wasn’t yours, it was low and thunderous. It was someone he knew all too well, and he knew better than to make up an excuse. He’s been caught, this is it. This day was bound to come anyway.

Jaemin pulls his face away from yours, freezing in his place on your bed and turning his head to the door where sure enough, Jeno was standing. His hands were folded and pissed would be an understatement. Jaemin could see all the veins on his best friend’s arm and neck.

“Now… Jeno-“ Jaemin begins to explain. You watch as he tries to figure out the words to say. He’s calmly walking closer to his friend and has left your side on the bed where not moments ago he was just kissing you in. Jeno looks at him expectedly, waiting for a reason.

“Can we talk outside?” Jaemin quietly asks, but Jeno doesn’t move from his place in the doorway.

“I’d like to talk here,” your brother firmly states.

Jaemin sighs, looking back at you before preparing what he was about to say.

“Jeno I really like Y/N. Screw it, call it love. I'm in love with her and I’m a horrible friend for not telling you but we were going to tell you sooner or later anyway. I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” he sincerely apologizes.

Your lips part, listening to his words. He was taking the blame completely.

“You probably hate the shit out of me but I really like your sister, man. And I want nothing but to treat her with utmost care and give her everything she deserves,” he rambles.

Jeno was staring down at his friend and his eyes look over to you. When you told Jeno that you were dating Jaemin, he flicked your forehead harshly and said “I know. I’m not stupid,”

When you told him about how you wanted to see how Jaemin would react to getting caught, you didn’t need to ask twice. Jeno was onboard and wanted to do it as soon as possible. It was a good thing you went ahead and told him beforehand because if you hadn’t, Jaemin might have gotten something more than a flick on the forehead.

“And cut,” you say from behind the two boys. Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow together as he steps back and watches Jeno’s expression shift from anger to his regular smile. The boy looked between you siblings in pure confusion and you walk to clasp your fingers together. “You just got pranked, dude,”

“Wait, huh?” exclaims Jaemin. Jeno’s already laughing at this point and you’re cupping Jaemin’s face in your hands lovingly. “I told Jeno last night. I just wanted to see how you’d react,”

“You menaces!” Jaemin yells, pointing his finger between you and your brother.

“God, since we were young. Always pulling the pranks on me,” he huffs with a frustrated look on his face. You replace that with a smile by giving him a quick peck.

“Alright, I’m gonna leave ‘cus that’s gross to watch,” Jeno backs away, patting Jaemin on the shoulder and gesturing to his room down the hall. “Also,” he adds, catching both you and Jaemin’s attention.

“Stop hooking up in the pantry. Jesus Christ, are you guys exhibitionists?”

[zafirosreverie]

Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part  8

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

a/n: Does anyone still read this? I’m sorry for not posting in days, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Wanda smiled and rolled her eyes fondly as she read the message that Agatha had sent.

"Y/N 's sick. I'll stay to take care of her. It's your turn to take care of the girls."

The redhead knew exactly what that meant. She knew you weren't sick at all, but it was the last day in Salem and her friend just wanted to spend it with you. If she was honest with herself, she had been quite surprised when Agatha told her about her...she wasn't really sure if you were dating or not, but at least she knew there were kisses and sex.

Either way, she was happy for you (even though it had been embarrassing to go to reception and say that they weren't going to change rooms after all) and had been covering you for the past two weeks.

"Okay, tell Miss Y/L/N that I hope she feels better soon"

______________

Agatha giggled lightly and made a mental note to buy the red-haired woman dinner, before throwing her phone on the nightstand. Wanda had been a great help in these two weeks and the brunette was completely grateful for it.

You grunted a little and rolled over on the bed, unconsciously pressing yourself against the older woman's chest. Agatha smiled and kissed your head, stroking your back.

This was something completely different from what you had done so far. Not the sex, that was still as wild as the first day. But this, waking up with you in her arms and allowing herself to contemplate you as the daylight filtered through the curtains. That was new.

You guys had made a pact (well actually, she had made all the rules ... but you had nodded, which meant you were in complete agreement ... right?) That you could only use the nights for yourselves.

So when morning came, she would get up quickly and go to bathe. By the time she came out, you were already waking up, so she just left you in the room alone, so you could get ready.

She didn't talk to you all day and she rarely came near you. There was no need, after all. You were hers.

She couldn't explain the wave of relief that washed over her. Knowing that you belonged to her, that everything you put on, what you did, was for her, it was a great liberation. She no longer had to torture herself by thinking you were someone else’s.

The only thing that hadn't changed was that her eyes were constantly on you. She watched every step you took, every time you sat down (she didn't want you to show too much, ok? Those legs were hers), but especially, she watched every interaction you had with Nicholas Jadu.

You had told her that she had nothing to worry about, that you were just friends. And of course she believed you, she trusted you. Just...not him.

But either way, she didn't have to worry about it. Not today. Today you would be in bed all day and she would enjoy her last day with you to the fullest.

Yes, maybe she should have asked you first before reporting you sick ... but she was sure you would agree.

You always did.

_____________

You stretched out a bit before you started rubbing your eyes. You were feeling a bit tired, but it was nothing new to you. In recent days, waking up exhausted, with weak legs, sore arms, and hickeys all over the body, was common.

You sighed quietly before you rolled. Or well, try to roll. You frowned when your back hit something, and you felt a grip on your hip. You opened your eyes and found your head buried in Agatha's chest.

Okay- This...this wasn’t common.

She never woke up next to you. She always slipped away before the sun finished rising and she left you in the room, by yourself. She said it was to be safe, to avoid raising suspicions. Too bad that meant that the brunette could never see your disappointed face, nor the trembling of your legs, which was not from the activities of the night before, but from fear.

Fear of stepping into a trap. Fear of recognizing in those blue eyes that you loved so much, the shadow of those green ones that hurted you so much.

"She's not like that" you thought, trying to reassure yourself. But it all felt too much the same.

_________________

Agatha frowned slightly when she saw you lost in thought. She didn't want to intrude, but she couldn't help but worry, either. Maybe you were really sick?

"Y/N?" she asked softly, making you jump slightly "everything fine  in that little head of yours?"

"Y-yes" you mumbled "just...I was finishing waking up" you lied

The brunette didn't seem to believe you, but she decided not to pressure you, so she just nodded and kissed your head. You sighed a little and felt your cheeks blush. You liked being like this, calm in her arms. But something was still wrong ...

"Aggs ..." you whispered

The woman smiled a little, she loved when you called her that. "Yes, my love?"

"...why are you here?" you asked carefully.

Agatha frowned and looked at you for a moment, somewhat confused. You didn't want her to be there? Weren't you glad to wake up with her? But then a pang of guilt attacked her.

Of course you would be confused! She never woke up next to you. She cursed herself for a moment, before looking at you again and giving you a smile that she hoped was reassuring.

"It's our last day" she told you "I wanted to be with you" she admitted, stroking your cheek.

You blushed a little more and looked away from her, making her laugh a little. She kissed you on the temple again, before taking your chin and lifting your face a little so she could kiss you on the lips.

"We'll be late" you murmured against her mouth "Surely they are already waiting for us"

Agatha smiled at you and shook her head slightly.

"I ... I told Wanda you were sick" she said, a little embarrassed "I know I should have asked you first, but-"

"It’s okay" you interrupted her.

Yes, it would have been nice if she woke you up to ask you before doing it, but you were grateful and a little touched by the gesture. She had put her job aside to be with you, after all.

"We can always say that you felt better" she told you "If at any time you want to go out, we will simply say that you already feel good"

You smiled and let her kiss you again. Unlike the heated kisses she gave you at night, before throwing you on the bed, this kiss was calm, slow, and loving. Her hand on your waist didn't make you feel excited, but it did make you feel loved and protected.

You liked this Agatha Harkness. The one who took care of you, who made you feel special and loved. The one who simply wanted to be with you because she could, not to satisfy some need.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asked after a while of kissing you "I can go down to buy something"

"Well ... I wouldn't say no to some pancakes" you said, smiling shyly.

"Pancakes will be then" she replied.

The brunette leaned over you again and kissed you deeply one last time, before getting up and changing to go out

_______________

Agatha was careful when she went down to the hotel’s restaurant and ordered breakfast. It wasn't that she was afraid that some student would see her or that they would start asking questions, she had an alibi ready. But she preferred not to be withholding more than necessary. She wanted to get back to you as soon as possible.

The woman knew she hadn't been entirely fair to you in recent weeks. But she hadn't known what else to do. She wanted to be with you, she wanted to hold your hand as you walked, hug you, take care of you. But she couldn't risk doing it in public, and by the time the night came, she needed you so badly that she just blurted out, taking what she wanted from you.

No, it wasn't a good excuse, and she knew it. But she was hoping she could make it up to you a little today.

_______________

"Pancakes and a couple of flowers" you said, smiling when the brunette offered you a small bouquet of violets that you recognized as one of the ones sold outside the hotel. "Either there is bad news or someone is trying to get on my good side" you joked, but you couldn't help your heart flutter. It was a nice touch of her part.

"A bit of both" admitted the woman.

You frowned a bit, watching her as she carelessly tossed her purse onto the dresser and kicked off her shoes. Agatha smiled at you as she climbed on top of you on the bed and kissed you again. Okay, there had been a lot of kisses today and it was barely 10, what was going on?

"There's bad news because it's our last day" she said "And I'm trying to get on your good side because I don't want anything to change between us when we get back" she said

"A little late for that, don’t you think?" you said

"Touché" she laughed lightly, getting off you and sitting next to you "Well, I don't want things to change too much between us" she said

"Well I'm sure my classmates will still make me sit in the front row as a totem to calm the storm" you joked

Agatha laughed heartily at this and seeing her so free and open was a beautiful sight.

"I'm glad to hear that" she said, kissing your cheek "I miss our little arguments" she admitted

"Me too" you said

"And we still have a pending debate" she said "Don't think we finished with Medusa"

Now you laughed heartily and shook your head. You were more than ready for that debate.

The brunette leaned on your shoulder as you finished your breakfast, leaving a trail of lazy kisses on your neck. One of her hands pulled a lock of hair from your face and caressed your cheek, while she wrapped her other arm around you.

You were confused at how different she was acting, but this...yeah, this felt good.

___________

You sighed when you got off the bus.

It all felt so surreal, like you had just woken up from a dream (or a two week coma). You just felt different. You weren't the same girl you had been before Salem.

Your classmates came and went with their suitcases, some talking, others laughing, others too tired. You watched Nick kiss Dalton goodbye on the cheek and you smiled. At least one of you could continue your love story.

You discreetly looked in the direction of the teachers and were not surprised to find a pair of blue eyes staring at you.

Neither of you moved. You didn’t smile, didn’t greet each other, didn’t walk towards each other. Nothing. You just looked at each other and you felt your chest tighten a bit. You knew it was a goodbye.

Your time was up.

But it was okay. The universe had given you almost two weeks with this woman. Yes, maybe there were things you didn't like (that terrified you, actually), like her jealousy and possessiveness. But there were also things that you would keep in your memory forever, like her kisses, her arms drawing you to her to sleep, the way she caressed your cheek or the way she made you feel pretty.

Also, you held in your arms the reminder of what you had shared with her.

Agatha looked at you as you sighed again and grabbed your suitcase, walking towards Nicholas's car. She would have offered to drive you home, but she had to stay until each and every student was gone and she didn't want to have you there waiting.

Besides, she knew that she would only be delaying the inevitable. The deadline was up and you had to go back to being just teacher and student.

However, when she saw you get into the car with little Aggie in your arms, she smiled to herself. All the way back, the doll had been sitting between the two of you, serving as a shield so that no one else could see that your hands were intertwined.

She had to admit that she had been flattered and touched when the doll's name escaped from your mouth. You had turned red and she had giggled, but she had told you that it was a nice name. You had smiled at her and, taking care that no one saw, you had given her a quick kiss.

Damn. She was going to miss you.

Well, at least her mini-me would be safe in your arms. Lucky doll.

"Harkness, a little help around here" Wanda called her. Agatha sighed and gave you one last look before turning and walking to the redhead. She didn't notice the sad smile you gave her.

________________

You sighed in relief when you finally got into bed later that night. Finally you began to feel all the weight and fatigue of the trip.

Also ... you didn't want to think about how huge and cold your bed felt, or the presence that was missing next to you. You told yourself it was part of the deal, that this was agreed upon.

You didn't want to, but you tried to remember the bad things. The times she scolded you out of jealousy, how she subtly tried to control you. All of that. You needed to convince yourself that it was just an affair and that was all. That you shouldn't want more.

But then you remembered the good things too. And of course, your heart, ignoring your brain, decided that that was more than enough to forgive the other.

"Damn woman" you muttered "Did she have to stay so buried in my head?"

You rolled onto your side and looked at the doll on your nightstand. You felt a warmth in your chest, similar to the one you felt the day you opened the gift on your bed.

You jumped a bit when your cell phone vibrated and the screen lit up with a new message. Frowning at the time, you took it. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn't help but smile like an idiot when you opened it.

From: Ms Harkness

Miss you.

I know I'm breaking the agreement, but I needed you to know.

Damn this woman and the way she controls you. It seems that you would fall under her spell again and see her in your dreams.

From: You

I miss you too

Wish you were here.

From: Ms. Harkness

I wish I was there too.

I don't know if I can fulfill the agreement, Y/N. It's only been a few hours and I already need you.

From: You

In a good way, I hope?

From: Agatha

In all ways ;)

You laughed a bit at that and cursed her again.

From: Agatha

It's late, I should let you sleep.

see you tomorrow.

From: you

I don't know if I can sleep. But okay.

See you tomorrow.

From: Agatha

Good night.

I love you

Your heart jumped a bit and you felt butterflies in your stomach at the last message.

From: you

Love you too.

You turned off the cell phone and left it next to the doll, again in her spell then.

"You're right little Aggie" you smiled "it must be the eyes". 

Alerts kept going on in your head, telling you, begging you, not to fall, to remember how much she scared you when she demanded that you stop spending time with Nick. But your heart was telling you that she really loved you, that you should give her a chance to prove it.

Agatha Harkness and her way of confusing you. She did things that just made you forget her mistakes. You just hoped you weren't committing a bigger one.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Tags:  @midnight-lestrange @amethyst-bitch @juliejules-089 @novohyde @annie-mit-ie @shinkomiii @agentbrownierso @swanqueensupercorp @philippaharkness @rainbow-hedgehog @parkerprolly @booklovinbi @bloodyfool @marvelseverything @superpearlnerd @rooskaya-yelena @danvers97 @notsosecretlyalesbian @thoroughly--confused @tomy5girls @celasteria @teenwonder @paulawand @fallingfor-fics @an-evergreen-rose @enbyjareau @mochiadria​ @sarahp-stan​ @p-nymph

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.3

Pt. 1    Pt.2   Pt. 3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, smut in this chapter, unprotected sex, (some dom/sub themes, cunnilingus, squirting, slight breeding/impreg language, creampie, cumplay), some fluffiness follows the smut, secret relationship, angst

a/n: Part 3! This is the smut chapter. This is one of the longer ones. I hope this is meeting everyones expectations from what the first chapter had given off. Very excited to share the rest. As always requests/asks are open! :)

Word count. 3.7K

You were awakened with a light knock on the other side of Loki’s chamber door. You kept your eyes closed not wanting to have to face any conflict fresh out of sleep. Remaining in your same position you heard Thor’s voice informing Loki to feel free to make his way to the dining hall. You kept still, wanting to hear the entire conversation without any disruptions or derailings of what was meant to be said. 

“Who's the young lady between your legs, brother?”

“One I’m thinking of marrying. The only issue is her parents' blessing, something she’s yet to ask. The right time’s on the horizon, but not quite within reach.” 

“Have you spoken to father about it?”

“I have the feeling that waiting until the last moment will work best for me. A bit of chaos if you will.”

Thor chuckled

“You never change, brother.”

“Why alter something that needs not fixing?”

“That bridge is yours to cross and I will be there for you when it happens. Regardless, food will be waiting for you and your lady when you're ready to come out.”

Loki nodded his head in acknowledgment and Thor left the room. With the door closing, you stretched and turned around to face Loki. 

“So, you plan on making me your wife?”

“You were awake?!”

“I had stirred awake when your brother knocked on the door. I wasn’t faking it the whole time. Although I’ll admit, it’s nice to know you’re in this fully.”

You stood up and moved to sit in Loki’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Well, since you eavesdropped in on the conversation, are you up to eat?”

You answered, hesitantly,

“Yes...if you’re in it fully and an offer of marriage is in the near future, the least I can do to convey my undying fidelity is to be shared with you in public. I’m ready for it all.”

Standing up, you stepped to the side to let Loki up and lead the way. Once out of his quarters you walked beside him through the corridors of the palace he called home. Arriving in the dining hall to your surprise and relief everyone had already left. The two of you to be left alone. Life felt unusually at ease, anxiety was free from your bones and you had a gut feeling that at least while you were here everything would play out in your favor. It was more than comforting and for once in quite some time you were finally able to eat. A little more than you expected honestly. You hadn’t realized how much you had been depriving yourself of necessary nutrients because eating was the last thing on your mind. Everything had been cluttered for the past year. 

It wasn’t until recently that your appetite began to fizzle out. You knew you’d eventually be okay but one meal a day would eventually catch up to you. And right now it was showing.

“Hungry?”

Suddenly aware of your surroundings and Loki’s raised eyebrow you were faced with how much you had actually gone through while being stuck in your head. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t look like a pig did I?”

You shrunk, your shoulders making a poor attempt at hiding your embarrassed face.

“No, Y/N, you did not. Simply wondering how you put it all away.”

You paused wondering whether or not you should expose yourself. Relationships were all about transparency, right? 

“I haven’t been eating all that much lately. The mental has affected the physical especially within my own home and I finally felt comfortable within these walls and I completely forgot my manners. My apologies.”

“I never said to stop. Indulge till your heart and well, stomach’s content Y/N. This will be your home, thus you may behave however you see fit. There’s no need for change.”

Looking at Loki through your brow you saw that he meant what he said. The expression on his face silently communicating sincerity to you. Your embarrassment faded and was replaced with affirmation. 

Finishing in the hall you and Loki walked back into his quarters. Night had fallen over the sky completely and the hallways of the palace looked more familiar to you now. Entering his room you walked past the bed and went straight for the balcony. You looked up towards the sky, looking for the answer to all your questions to be written in the stars. You failed to hear the footsteps behind you and only became aware of Loki’s presence when his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulders.

“You know, the stars aren’t going to give you the answers with any more ease. Believe me, I’ve tried. You just have to do what you don’t want to.”

“I know I just...I just wish it would be easier. I wish we had the freedoms of the cosmos, being able to travel through the entire mass of space without thought of what's to come next.”

You turned around, resting your back against the railing. You looked down and fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you looked up at Loki. The moonlight was bright and full, casting a white shadow across his features. You were unsure of what to do with your hands so you just placed them by your sides and admired Loki for a little while longer. A small smile subconsciously formed on your face and it wasn't until Loki reached for your hands did the haze in your eyes fade.  

“If only you knew the chaos I’d bring upon worlds. If only you knew the hells I’d race through, the agony I’d suffer with if it meant you by my side...it would seem that freedom is already had, my darling.” 

“Loki, I-

“-No matter the circumstance, you will be by my side. Whatever the battle is you must face with your parents, I swear to you, you will not bear the burden alone. If you were to, then what would I be here for?”

Your hand squeezed around his own and before you got a chance to respond to him, Loki’s hand slipped from your own and tilted your chin up. Staring into your eyes before capturing you into a searing kiss. It felt warm, comfortable, and fueled by fiery passion all at once. You removed your hand from his and wrapped your arms around his neck, weaving your fingers into his hair. Loki’s hands traveled to your waist but didn’t stay long before they traveled further down and firmly grasped your ass in his hand. The action causing an airy moan to slip from you and tug on his hair tighter eliciting a similar response from him. He slipped away from your lips, smirk all too telling of what was to come next 

“Coming alive now that the moon is out? You’re like my own personal bloodsucker.”

You playfully hit his shoulder 

“Loki..” 

“What it’s true darling. You really do, come...alive at night. It’s not a problem though, I quite enjoy seeing you shed the layers you wear while the sun shines.”

Emphasizing his point he squeezed your ass again and tapped under signaling to you to jump. Wrapping your legs around his slender waist, he turned you around and walked back into his bedroom. 

“Now that you are in your element, I take it it's time for that prize you spoke of so arrogantly earlier.”

Your eyes widened realizing what you had just signed yourself up for. Loki placed you gently down on his bed and crawled over to face you directly. 

“Unfortunately...for you at least, your choice in waiting will leave you in desperate need of a pillow to keep you from waking anyone important up.” 

“You’re so snarky, what if I desire to control this evening, hmm?”

“It will be a dream short-lived my love. You and I both know you have a debilitating tendency to fall weak under my touch. It’s irresistible to you.”

Tangling your leg underneath Loki’s, you flipped yourself over so that you were now on top of him. Desperate in having at least one moment to relish in dominance over him. Situating yourself you ground yourself into his now growing arousal. Planting your hands on his chest you brought yourself forward, leaning down into his ear and rolling your hips into his once more causing him to hiss through his teeth. Licking a stripe up from his neck to his ear you ended your trail with a light nibble on his lobe. In your last-ditch effort of a display of power, you whispered in his ear,

“Don’t be dense, you and I both know you enjoy it with much fervor being like this.”

And just like that, your moment of fame was something of the past. Before you could even register that your moment was gone, Loki was already on top of you, and the dress that once adorned your soft skin was being torn down the middle, exposing your body to him.

“Loki!-”

“-My love, there was no room left for teasing. We already established that did we not? Now, to remind you of your place, I’m going to make sure you never forget it or this night we’re sharing.”

Loki snaked down your body, his hands resting on your hips bones while he nudged your sex with his nose. Squirming your way into a submissive role, you rolled your hips down in need of any type of friction. 

“Y/N, unlike some people in the room, I fully intend on giving you what you yearn for. You just have to find the willpower of patience within you. Remember I don’t like teasing.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did right th-”

Your sentence was cut short cuz Loki had licked a tender stripe between your folds. Sending passion electric through your body. Your head lulled back into the bed fully engaged in Loki’s ministrations to your most sensitive of areas. Losing yourself in the moment you failed to notice Loki’s hands traveling up your sides and resting on your pert nipples. Rolling them between his fingers, your fingers clutched the sheets beneath you, needing something to brace yourself on. 

“Shit~ Loki, you're so good! Oh my god, don’t stop, I’m so close!”

Lifting his head up slightly you felt the change in atmosphere waiting for his smart remark to leave his lips.

“You said that with a lowercase g right?”

A little extra air left your nose signaling your light amusement to his statement. Only to follow it with a roll of your eyes still amazed by Loki’s narcissism even in such an intimate moment. The lightness in the air didn’t last long for Loki continued his attack on your cunt without warning. Smirking against your folds, he spoke

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. Unless you’re seeking punishment this evening.” 

“Fuck Loki!”

His tongue was something otherworldly, finding all your sweet spots and using it to his advantage. He rolled your nipple once more and this time added a lithe finger inside your dripping heat curling it just right to become acquainted with the cute little spongy spot within you. Your hands found refuge in his black locks, rolling your hips into his face feeling your release begin to peak over the precipice. 

“Loki, please don’t stop! I’m so close, I’m gonna cum. Please, Please Loki let me cum.”

A reinvigorated fire was now fueling Loki to help you reach your bliss and with a swift back and forth motion on your now swollen clit your orgasm washed over you in a way you hadn’t felt before. Your back arched and your thighs clamped around Loki’s head being completely overwhelmed with your climax. As your orgasm subsided you brought yourself to your elbows getting ready to return the favor to your lover. But he had other plans.

Grabbing your hips, Loki slid you down the bed closer to him and placed his mouth on your sensitive mound once more.

“Holy shit! Loki, stop, I'm so sensitive.”

Looking up at your through hooded lids, he cocked one eyebrow and questioned

“Do you really want me to stop?”

“I-uhh”

Flattening his tongue against your sex your response was lost in thin air replaced with a cry of pleasure. Loki entered another finger into your fluttering cunt and was determined on bringing you to a second rapture which was not difficult considering the aftershocks of your first one were still running through you. You felt the heat pool in your lower stomach and you began to feel the pressure build somewhere lower. For a split second, you became worried about what was going to happen next and you attempted to push Loki away from you not wanting to lose control, but his other arm kept you in place. 

“Loki, please I can’t handle it. Please!”

You weren’t quite sure what it was you were begging for. It definitely wasn’t for him to stop because you were so close but rather to save the embarrassment of what was to come. Unable to ward off your orgasm any longer, Loki’s finger made one final motion and your second orgasm was even stronger than the first. Ruining your vision and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Darling...remind me from now on to never let you writhe out of my ministries.”

Trying to calm down your heavy breathing you looked down at Loki only to be met with the sight of beads of your orgasm trail down his face and your juices glistening on his chin. The sheets beneath you beginning to turn a little cold. 

“Loki, oh my-”

Climbing up over your body, he hovered over your face. Somehow while lost in your own euphoria Loki’s shirt was discarded somewhere in the room and you were all but distracted by his toned physique.

“Don’t even think about an apology. Seeing you lose yourself in me like that was more than satisfying and this was just an extra luxury that you allowed me to enjoy.”

He emphasized his point by rubbing his fingers through your weeping pussy causing your body to jerk due to the sensitivity and Loki just smiled at you. Moaning you trailed your hand down to the pronounced tent in Loki’s pants. 

“I can’t wait any longer Loki. I need you inside of me. Please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper becoming insatiable with Loki above you. Fidgeting with the button on his pants, it didn’t take you long to have them unfastened, and slipped your hand into his pants, palming his length. Loki dropped his head into the crook of your neck, a low growl escaping his throat. Helping Loki push the fabric down the rest of his legs he positioned himself in between your hips lining himself up with your entrance. Looking up at you, you noticed there was a certain softness swimming in his eyes. 

“Y/N, you are so beautiful. Truly you are the most entrancing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m more than favored to be able to call you mine.”

“Loki, I~oh fuck”

The recurring theme of your sentences being lost in translation continued when Loki prodded his tip at your entrance causing you to suck in a breath of sheer pleasure. 

“Don’t tease me, please. Just fill me up Loki, I feel so empty without you.”

A moan and an airy chuckle left Loki’s lips before he fully sheathed himself within your tight core.

“Darling, no matter how many times I have marred your womb you still remain tight as ever. Gods you feel divine.”

Moving at a slow yet devastating pace Loki’s cock was kissing your cervix and sweet spot with every single thrust. Your core clenching around him created a resistance that was licentious and overwhelming for the both of you. Loki pulled himself almost all the way out and then slammed back into your sopping cunt causing a loud high pitched moan to flee from your chords.

“Shit! Loki, do that again.”

Loki repeated the action and your back arched from the bed and your nails dug into his back racking down the length of it. This new pace and pattern of movement were moving you quickly to your third release of the evening.

“You like that Y/N. Like how my cock can make you feel like no one else can. I’m going to make sure that your insides become so familiar with my shape that nothing else will be able to satisfy you.”

Picking up his pace slightly, Loki was still slamming deep inside you. Your eyes were no longer able to stay open while lost in all the pleasure that was tingling your entire body. Quickly though that thought would be eradicated from your mind as Loki’s hand came up to your face squishing your cheeks together forcing your lips to pout.

“Look at me while I fuck you Y/N. I want to watch you fall apart underneath me. I want you to watch as I fill you with my seed, claiming you as mine forever.”

You and Loki had never let him finish inside of you and the idea of him filling you with his seed and becoming swollen with his kid had you squeezing around him tighter than you ever had. Your moans picked up in frequency and you moved your hand up to his neck bringing his face down to your so that you could share a kiss while the both of you were approaching your highs. Loki’s hand snaked down to your core and began lightly rubbing on your clit. The last bit of stimulation fully brings you to the peak of your approaching high.

“Loki, fuck. I’m going to cum. Please don’t stop. Please please please!”

Loki brought his forehead down to rest on yours. A sticky layer of sweat was evident on both your faces. His thrusts became more erratic signaling he hadn’t much time left in him before his high. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than you could fathom. And I~ahh”

This affirmation took you by surprise. You and Loki had a strong partnership and you knew that you loved each other mutually but you both had never said it out loud before. Not only did this warm your heart but it also pushed you over your threshold and your climax. Washing over you for the third time that evening. Your fluttering core cutting off Loki’s admirations for you and also sending him over his escarpment. 

“I love you too Loki, so much. I~ah fuck you feel so good still.”

Keeping your foreheads still pressed together, you stayed like that until your breathing mellowed out. Waiting for the right moment to speak again. Pulling out of you Loki watched as his seed was spilling out of you due to the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Now look at that. This is something I could get used to seeing. But more importantly, I want to ensure that your womb takes all of me.”

Taking his nimble fingers, Loki was gently pushing back his cum inside of your cunt. You were so sensitive that each time his fingers grazed your now wrecked hole, your body reacted with a quick shake and the tightening of your stomach. Your eyes kept halfway rolling into the back of your head, the overstimulation turning into something of immense ecstasy. 

“Come up here Loki.”

Sliding his way up towards the head of the bed where you were, you nestled into his chest. His skin still tacky with sweat, your bodies melding together like human puzzle pieces. Your hand was drawing mindlessly on his chest and eventually found its way to his face where you were thumbing his cheek. 

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what- of course, I did. Y/N you know that lying to you is something I find absurd. And of the few things, I refuse to lie about, intimacy is one of them. Do not fill yourself with unnecessary doubt.”

Turning his face to yours you shared another kiss with him. Tender and full of passion you were silently telling him that you understood and that the feelings were reciprocated. Pulling away from you he sat up.

“Perhaps we should run ourselves a bath. Clean ourselves up before we grow too tired to think about anything else.”

Sighing you pushed yourself up to sit upright on the bed. Lightly nodding Loki stood from the bed and was waiting for you before moving any further. You looked up at him with pleading eyes

“Carry me?”

With a roll of his eyes and a click of his tongue he begrudgingly picked you up bridal style and walked you to the bathroom of his quarters.

“You are incongruous.”

“Perhaps I am, but for us, it works.”

Setting you down on the edge of the tub Loki began drawing the bath. Steam rising up from the heat of the water. You knew it would sting on the way in but the initial burn would morph into relaxation and ease your now tense muscles. Reaching for the soap on the corner of the bath closest to you, you walked over shakily to the spout of water so that bubbles would form before the two of you got in. 

Once the water hit an appropriate height Loki helped you in, already aware of the weakness in your legs. Settling in behind you he began washing you down with one of the many washrags in the bathroom.

“You know, we’re going to have to get this out in the open a lot sooner than we were planning. Especially if you are to have my child.”

“I know. I was thinking about that. Give my silence. Let us wait till morning to run through our thoughts about how to go about this. I want to enjoy this moment with you without the worry of what’s to come next.” 

“Understood my love.”

With Loki having the last word, the two of you shared amorous silence while relaxing in the tub. Enjoying each other’s company, the silence between the two of you was necessary to think about what was going to happen next in the chaos of your life. Finishing up in the bath, you two dried off and headed off to bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms, you drifted off to sleep rather quickly. Your body exhausted from the night's affairs. Not knowing that this would be the last night you recognized what peace could ever look like.

[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead  of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even  during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 9

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: DO NOT YELL AT ME! It is going to be okay. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

You had a secret.

For such an abstract and shapeless thing you could sure feel it sitting in there.

It was pulsing.

Your secret felt like a splinter lodged just under a single taste bud that sat in the center of your tongue. You could feel your white blood cells attacking it, trying their best to push it up and push it out, but still it clung tight with its sharp barbs lodged within your cell walls. You brushed your tongue against your teeth.

The secret did not budge.

What you knew about them though, was that secrets did not like to stay hidden forever.

Your fork slipped and clanked noisily against the ceramic plate and the bright orange carrot ball rolled across the smooth white surface nearly sliding over the edge onto the white linen. Whoever decided that your steamed vegetables needed to be shaped into spheres simply for aesthetics should be forced to come out here and explain how you were supposed to spear one of these things while also avoiding the risk of it shooting across the table and hitting your date in the face.

Ben turned out to be very nice. If you were into tall, handsome, clean-looking, and responsible guys who drove their own cars and also had things like health insurance and retirement plans. When you first saw him, you were struck by the firmness you felt when he shook your hand and smiled brightly at you. He had all of his teeth and a head full of hair. He was definitely walking around on his real legs too. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t let the clean laundry sit in the dryer for longer than a day and changed out his toothbrush every three months. You couldn't see a single fault.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression.

Really, you were.

Well, while also keeping an eye on Baekhyun who sat beside you with his focus down on his plate as he sliced his food into bite sized bits. His control of the fork and knife felt so careful and so exacting, it neared obsession. He had not ordered the steamed vegetables. None of his food rolled.

Across from him, looking just as cute in person as her online dating profile pictures conveyed, was Mia.

Mia was fine.

She was fine.

You didn't want to get into it.

Her clothes were fine. They were exactly the kinds of clothes you had expected she would wear.

Her hair was fine.

She actually had a hairstyle that reminded you of one of the characters in an anime you watched with Baekhyun once and you wondered about the upkeep costs of that particular shade of blue that streaked through her hair. You wondered if she had to switch to blue towels and blue pillow cases or if everything in her house was just stained forever.

Baekhyun’s cheeks blushed when he shook her hand and his smile was bashful, if not a bit tight when she complimented his glasses. Your mind briefly considered the plush, expensive white towels you both owned at home and a flash of horror overcame you for a split second when you imagined those towels streaked with a blue stain from the shower.

He bought those glasses at a store. Anyone can go to the store and buy glasses. Did such a superficial compliment really warrant such a deep shade of pink on his cheeks?

You took a sip of your glass of wine and the sweet, cool liquid had a tart aftertaste that lingered on your taste buds long after you swallowed and you stabbed roughly at the runaway carrot again, impaling it with the prongs of your fork.

Finally.

“I got it,” you said out loud to yourself with a wide smile and you held your prize up in front of your face for a second. Long enough for your eyes to drift across your table to meet Ben’s and you caught the soft amused chuckle that puffed from his nose.

You’d already gotten through the backstory. Starting with the curious question from Mia about how you and Baekhyun got to know each other and you took a quick glance toward Ben as Baekhyun explained that you and he had been roommates for a couple of years. You caught the slight smile on Ben’s lips as he looked down into his water glass and you wondered if he was pleased that he already knew the answer to this question as you had been quick to tell him this important detail about your life as you chatted with him during the last week or so.

Mia on the other hand simply let her eyes drift over from Baekhyun’s face to land on yours for a moment and you offered a disarming smile by way of explanation. Not that either of you had any explaining to do. You could live with whoever you wanted to live with. It took her ten seconds to return your smile, although you didn't quite believe it, or believe that she was done with her curiosities about this topic.

You couldn't really blame her although you’d given her nothing to be suspicious about. Not in the last 20 minutes since you’d all arrived and nibbled on shared appetizers, at least.

Hell, you hadn’t even touched him all day. From before you both arrived at this fancy restaurant and just relinquished your coats to some stranger simply because she held a hand out and sported a severe enough hairdo and manic look in her eyes that was too frightening to question. From the morning when you woke up and wandered into your kitchen to make toast for one and you ignored the sound of his feet shuffling in, half-asleep to grab a yogurt from the fridge. You hadn’t even helped him style his hair; which looked stunning, by the way, with the waves and the faded brown color that absolutely looked like something the perfect boyfriend would let you play with as he laid on your lap. He hadn’t even asked for your help picking out his outfit. He’d simply done it all on his own and waited for you by the front door wearing those jeans and smelling like that familiar scent that he bought for your date with him weeks back.

When had this all become so awkward? You’d never been afraid to touch Baekhyun before but now, well, the touches hadn’t ever concealed quite so much meaning before.

By the time the entrees arrived the conversations had moved on to hobbies and interests.

Ben was a movie buff, and his favorites were mostly mainstream blockbusters of the Marvel Superhero variety. He enjoyed many of the genres of films you’d mostly seen just the previews of. His top ten contained a bit more horror than you were comfortable with. One in particular, a prolific film based on a Steven King novel, had been the kind of psychologically terrifying film that made your chest rattle and you had spent most of the second half of that movie with your face buried in Baekhyun’s arm begging him to just describe to you what was happening and to tell you when the scary parts were over.

When he asked you what your favorite movie was you hesitated for a moment before pulling the movie Forrest Gump out of basically thin air. Yes you had enjoyed the movie. Yes it was something you’d seen more than once and if it was on television right now you would sit down and watch it from start to finish and you would enjoy it. It was a respectable favorite to have. It was the kind of favorite movie you would not be embarrassed to show to your grandmother.

But it wasn’t actually your favorite and you could feel the burden of Baekhyun’s eyes as he turned his head to look at your face when you said it.

Something about naming, out loud with your own lips — the light and fun, mindless guilty pleasure of the film that was actually your favorite movie that you’d watched hundreds of times and returned to watch again and again every time you felt even a little bit upset; something about saying it out loud to this table of people with countless of hours of media consumption under their belts and opinions about things like prolific directors, production companies, hefty CGI budgets, and overused, tired tropes that absolutely should be dropped in 2021, well it just felt too vulnerable for you to say out loud.

You swallowed a sip of your wine and refused to turn your head to look at Baekhyun until you heard the sound of his throat swallowing the ice water he sipped.

When Mia changed the topic to Anime you felt Baekhyun come alive beside you and Ben slinked back in his seat a little as the two of them got to talking about something that was highly anticipated and was slated to be released next year. Rumors about artists and directors with names you could not know flew easily from their lips and Mia mentioned the name of one previous work that you recognized.

In fact you had watched the entire thing last year with Baekhyun and you remembered talking excitedly about it with Mia during one of your early text conversations.

Your face lit up and you happily joined in, excited to finally know what in the world they were talking about when you accidentally let something slip when you reminded her of what she had said about the anime before. Luckily you stopped yourself before you could admit that you had actually been the one she had been chatting with at the time.

Still, she caught it. She was very quick and sharp and you watched her face as she registered that you’d referenced something that only Baekhyun should know about. Had you just fucked up?

“Ahh, we,” you raised your index finger and waved it lightly toward where Baekhyun had stiffened up in his seat beside you, “he told me about what you said.”

There was a moment when her eyes widened and she looked at Baekhyun briefly before returning her focus to you.

“He...told you about me?” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back and leaned forward with her forearms rested in front of her plate on the table. Her off-the-shoulders number dipped when she leaned in and you caught a bit of black lace and the bunch up of her impressive bosom.

She smiled a coy smile aimed across the table.

You followed the smile and your eyes reached Baekhyun. He’d been hit with the smile and had been too stunned to return it. Instead, he lifted a hand and rubbed it over the back of his neck twice before reaching the same hand forward to grab the ice water he’d been sipping all night as he pulled in a mouthful and puffed his cheeks before covering his lips with his flattened palm and swallowing noisily.

“I also mentioned you to my friend,” Mia said not quietly enough for it to be just for him and you dropped your eyes down to the half finished chicken on your plate.

She was fine. Mia was fine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. She was nice and she was probably a good person, but you kind of wanted her to die.

“So,” Ben interjected suddenly and you looked across the table at him as you tried to conceal the surprise on your face to find him sitting there.

You noticed he was done with his food and his plate had already been cleared away by the super attentive waitstaff.

The negligence of your own date weighed heavily on you and you angled your chest forward to face him directly for whatever questions he had for you.

He was pointing toward Baekhyun and Mia with his extended finger and raised eyebrows.

“You two work in computers?” It was a work question. He’d gathered this much from the brief introductions everyone had given and while you had failed to offer any insight as to what you did for a living, Baekhyun and Mia had both mentioned computers.

“He’s a software engineer, and I’m a programmer. Similar but not the same,” Mia explained. You weren't sure of any of the details or of how they were different. You hadn’t really put much thought into it. You knew Baekhyun worked the magic with the keyboard and could fix anything that you happened to break.

“I’m in advertising. Just got scouted by Comma Entertainment and I’ve accepted.” Ben had a hand raised to his chest and his eyebrows were up. This seemed important to him and you let your lips form into an impressed O shape as you raised your eyebrows. His tone and the way he said the name of his new employer seemed to warrant the excited reaction.

You weren't familiar at all with his industry but you knew how to react like you knew what he was talking about. He certainly seemed impressed by himself. Who were you to discourage his enthusiasm.

“You’ve heard of it?” You sold it too well. Baekhyun had leaned close to you and whispered an aside question and you shot him a tense look with your eyes as a warning, but you quickly pushed your smile wide for Ben who was, deservedly, very excited about his new position.

“Of course, who doesn’t know Comma for advertising. That’s a very big deal. Is that why you were so busy last week? We hardly got to talk.”

Your subject change was so slick. If you hadn’t been the one to do it, you’d have been impressed by it. The disappointed pout on your face sold it well.

“Actually I was at the bank a lot last week. It was so weird. I had a few accounts that seemed to be hacked but then it turned out to be nothing. Had to change all my passwords though, so that was annoying.”

“That sucks. They didn't take anything did they?” Mia spoke up from beside Ben; concern written all over her face.

“No. Whoever did it just seemed to access purchase histories mostly. Some loser of a hacker. Didn't even get any money.” Ben’s lips pulled wide and he was laughing with his head thrown back at his perceived victory over the hacker that had been messing around in his bank records.

“You can learn a remarkable amount of information about a person’s bad habits from their bank history, Ben. Sure utilities and rent; that’s boring. You can find out how often someone gets hammered at bars. How many of those bars are also strip clubs. How many maxed out credit cards they make minimum payments on each month just to keep their head above water. Their gambling losses and the motel rooms they book in the bad part of town…”

Baekhyun was speaking up beside you. You turned and you looked at his profile as he spoke so candidly and with what you could only describe as a certain smugness on his voice.

The only reason he’d stopped talking was to catch his breath. It was the most he had spoken all night and you honestly felt taken aback by the suddenness of his words and more, the topic he spoke on. It felt weirdly pointed. It just felt so detailed; almost accusatory.

“What?” You hissed the question; focused it hard and as under your breath as possible to the man seated beside you.

His lips closed up before his eyes turned to look at you and you caught a quick blink of his eyes that preceded a softening of his features that had no business looking that confrontational in the first place.

“I’m not saying any of that stuff applies to Ben.” Baekhyun lifted a slim dismissive hand to wave toward your date. “It’s just an example. For all we know Ben’s only weakness is eating fried chicken every day.”

Ben’s lips were pulled into a thin line on his face and his jaw unclenched when you looked back at him. Then he was smiling at you and it was bright and convincing. You smiled back at him and shook your head at your wacky roommate’s antics.

“Actually it’s pizza. You caught me buddy, I’m a hardcore pizza addict. Every night.”

“Well, not tonight.” Baekhyun shrugged with an odd smile landing on his lips.

Ben’s tight smile flattened and the two men seemed to be staring at each other for longer than you thought was polite for a shared first double-date.

“So what is it that you do?” It was Mia who ultimately broke the tension and you looked across the table into her eyes. She had a pleasant smile on her face and was still chewing on a piece of bread, clearly unbothered by the strange standoff that had just been going on between the two men at this table.

Surely you weren't the only one to notice how odd it had been. Had you just imagined the tightness in Baekhyun’s fist that laid over his thigh and the hard glare in Ben’s eyes?

With Mia’s question though, you felt your own lips pull closed and your eyes danced around the table to the other curious parties who also were now looking at you to answer the question.

You’d prepared well for this date. You’d made sure Baekhyun had the detailed first date topics, questions and answers for perfect small talk, even the section on table etiquette. You’d made sure he knew you’d be here to steer the conversations toward topics he was comfortable discussing and you’d even set up a safety signal he would use if he wanted to bail and just go home.

You’d planned it all out, down to the detailed progression of the evening and how at the end someone might even suggest going together for drinks. And should one of the dates wish to split off, it would be completely okay as long as the corresponding person felt comfortable. You’d even promised that under no circumstances would you abandon Baekhyun to do this on his own if he didn't want to. Not even at the behest of Ben, your date.

They were looking at you and you'd gone quiet. You’d been so busy preparing for this date that it never occurred to you that you were also actively involved and that someone might possibly ask a question about you and your work.

Your work. Well…

“Uhh...I don't really do anything worth mentioning.”

You felt it. It was a warmth that had pooled in the skin around your nose. Your cheeks felt warm and you felt just insignificant enough for it to take your undeserved confidence and throw it out the window.

Ben and Mia were watching you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the dry chapped skin on the surface.

“Nothing?” Ben said and his eyes were wide with a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, not nothing.” You were not completely unemployed. You had been quite impressive before. You’d been working with the best publicists of an entertainment company and had been in charge of crafting and perfecting the asset sheets of many of your company's highest profile artists. You’d been the best at it and at one time had been highly sought out for your expertise. You had a way with it. You could work some real magic. You could make a dud of a raw potato sound like a five star course in a Michelin star restaurant. Losing your position in the spring of 2020 had really been a huge blow to your confidence. You looked back at how far you had fallen. Boring data entry jobs to make ends meet. Taking on weird side gigs so you could afford tiny luxuries like your favorite scented lotion or the name brand tampons instead of the store brand.

“I do have a job.” You added lamely. “It’s just not at all interesting.”

Ben dropped his eyes from yours and Mia shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a carrot ball expertly on the first try.

“Yeah but what is it?” Mia said as she chewed daintily. The heat in your cheeks spread and you let your eyes wander away from hers over the various dinner items that covered this table.

Beside you, Baekhyun’s movement caught your eye and you turned to see him place an elbow on the table in front of him and he leaned forward.

“She’s a dating coach. She’s really good at it, but much too modest when she talks about herself.”

Oh no. He wasn't about to spill the beans was he? This was definitely not something in the approved list of first date dinner topics. Wasn't this topic too incriminating? Wouldn't Mia put two and two together and figure out that you had been coaching Baekhyun all along? Also, wasn't this new profession of yours too brand new to start talking about so freely like this? What the hell was he doing?

“A dating coach? What’s that?”

Strangely, Mia didn't seem to be looking at Baekhyun with wheels turning and sirens blaring. She was looking at you with her mouth empty and hung open with a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“Do you like, feed them what to say in an earpiece?” Ben was speaking up from the other side of Mia and you laughed at the absurdity of such a silly rom-com movie cliche.

“Well no. I’m not a pickup artist. I am a dating coach. Think about it like a sports coach. I am teaching my clients the skills to play the game. Skills to overcome dating anxiety, or I’m teaching them to identity and move away from self-sabotaging behaviors, limiting beliefs, or preconceptions that are detrimental to a healthy relationship.

I have clients that don't even know where to begin. My goal is to strategize with them and place them effectively within the dating scene so they stand the best chance. It’s incredibly hard to be objective about your own love life, but I provide an outside viewpoint. I step in and intervene when I see something that isn't in line with their relationship goals or the vision they have for dating.

I’m not teaching manipulation or just telling them what to say. There are no love spells to make someone fall in love with you. I’m changing the way they believe in themselves so they can present themselves to someone else in the absolute best way to begin a real relationship with someone.”

You’d been leaning in as you spoke animatedly with your hands. You felt the genuine excitement building with your words. You were surprised at how much of your previous profession’s language applied to this new exciting endeavor you were embarking on, but there really were tons of overlapping similarities between the two fields. The explanations just poured out of you.

You hadn’t said any of this out loud before to anyone but the more you talked about it, the more elated you felt about what you were doing with your life. With how much you had been helping Baekhyun and how much progress you had seen in just one day of helping your clients — Baekhyun’s friends Minseok and Sehun. Sehun had finally, finally sent you his first selfie that wasn’t taken from his lap after you’d sent him many examples of good selfies taken from different angles. Minseok was already halfway through the materials you’d sent him to study and had been working hard on identifying and changing the self-defeating language he’d used in his rough draft dating profile.

“She has an app.” Baekhyun piped up from beside you. He’d leaned back in his chair as you spoke.

Both Ben and Mia’s faces mirrored each other’s. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung in amazement and you quickly closed up your own mouth and grabbed anxiously at your wine glass, feeling a little bit embarrassed about having talked so much. You couldn't resist the chance to smash their misconceptions about what your goals actually were with helping your clients. None of these people were unlovable. They were all worthy of finding someone and you were going to give it your all to help them see their own value.

“Not at all interesting?” Mia spoke up, “that’s super interesting. That’s really, really cool. Can—Can I have your contact info? I have a friend that would be interested in your services.”

“You have an app too? This is something we could advertise online. It would do extremely well on certain kinds of reddit forums and definitely in most online gaming communities.” Even Ben sounded excited, if not a bit overly judgmental, and you heard a quiet, but hostile scoff next to you.

You ticked your head toward the sound but did not turn to look at him. You knew that scoff well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice at whatever he thought Ben might be insinuating about online gamers and the connection to the incels that haunted the forums of reddit.

“I think it’s a bit premature to think about online advertising. I’m still only one person.”

Ben smiled and shrugged off your quick dismissal of his idea to partner up and advertise your business to the desperately lonely and pathetic gamers of the world. Hell, the more you thought about it, the less inappropriate Baekhyun’s annoyance was. Ben could use some coaching on choosing less insulting words.

Thankfully the dinner was over and the check had been taken care of. You looked away from the palpable awkwardness that slapped you across the face when Baekhyun waved away Ben’s card and paid for the entire bill with his own.

“You can get me next time, buddy.” He definitely said this word sarcastically. It was out of line and you simply could not find the right moment to pinch his leg under the table to get him to behave himself in a discrete enough way that would not get you caught by the other two people at this table.

You let it slide simply because you had no way to stop it. He was ignoring the way you waved your finger frantically at him down by your calf. You knew he could see you in his peripherals.

No, Baekhyun. Stop that. Be nice. Your hand was saying. He wouldn't even look at it.

The dinner was over and the movie was starting soon. You’d picked a restaurant that was close enough to the theatre that you could walk.

You paired off. It was far from natural. You actually caught Baekhyun’s eyes as you stepped quickly and walked ahead of him, falling into step beside Ben and you left behind Baekhyun and Mia to bring up the rear. It took every ounce of self control not to turn around and look behind you to see how closely they walked to each other. To see if Baekhyun kept his hands shoved securely in his pockets or if he swung his arms at his side as he walked, inching a hand closer and closer to Mia’s swinging hand in the hopes of a back of the hand brush of his warm skin against hers.

Your steps must have stalled. You’d reached the theatre and you looked up to locate Ben, only to find him at the box office purchasing four tickets for the movie you’d all agreed to watch days ago. For the life of you, you couldn't remember what you were seeing. You merely followed where you were led and found yourself seated in a center row of a movie house sandwiched between Ben and Baekhyun. You noticed the center armrests had been lifted when you arrived and simply did not bother to lower them since everyone was too full from dinner for any movie snacks or drinks.

The house was mostly empty and then lights dimmed as the movie began. You searched your brain and nearly pulled out your phone to check your chat logs for the name of the film but decided against shining a tiny bright light in a dark room.

The movie began and you were quickly drawn into the narrative. It was a dark film and as the soundtrack began to take on more sinister sounding tones you recognized that your heart was racing and you were feeling the tension all over your body. It was not a gorey horror film, but it was leaning more toward the psychological suspense thriller genre. Not really something you watched much of.

To your left, Ben sat completely still; focused only on the movie screen. He looked so calm and nearly unaffected by the terrifying things happening on the screen. He occasionally shifted in his seat but did not react to the jump scare that flashed before your eyes and made you flinch hard in your seat. You’d reached the point in the film when the main characters were in genuine danger and you began to wonder if anyone would make it out of this movie alive. Was this one of those films where everyone was doomed?

It happened again, another jump, another loud shocking sound and another noise startled you and you dove to your right, hiding your face in the warm shoulder of the man sitting beside you.

The realization was instantaneous. The second you felt the warmth of his arm, and the smell of him hit your nose, you pulled your head up and you straightened out your spine, mumbling a quiet apology to Baekhyun for using his arm to hide behind as you removed any and all contact points you had with his body. You angled your hips and your knees away from him and even went so far as to stick your hands well under your own thighs and keep them there so you didn't grab for him again. You had been doing so well by not touching him at all today. Why did it have to be a scary movie?

Things grew more frantic on the screen. You held your breath and tried your best to keep from reacting as much as you could. How long was this movie? How much longer did you have to endure this? You should have paid more attention to the details of this part of the date. This was your own fault. You were acting like a big baby because you couldn't handle a little frightening scenes in a movie.

It was coming again. You could feel it building. You closed your eyes and terrible sounds were erupting all over. You would just not look. You could make it through if you just didn't look. With your eyes closed the sounds felt louder than ever and when you thought you couldn't take it anymore you considered committing the enormous sin of getting up during the climax of the movie to use the bathroom just so you didn't have to sit through this anymore.

There was a shift beside you then. You felt warm fingers inching down your forearm, traveling the path your hand took that led below your thigh and someone was reaching for your hand and pulling it out from where you’d been sitting on it. Someone to your right was gripping your hand with his own warm hand and you opened your eyes to look down between the hidden space between your hip and Baekhyun’s hip. There, you saw the grip of his hand that wrapped securely around yours.

He squeezed down once and you followed the length of him up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He was looking up at the screen. His eyes were open and he did not flinch at all. He was so still aside from the occasional movement of his lips when he moistened them with his tongue.

You could handle this if he lent you a little bit of his strength like this. Your eyes returned to the screen but your mind wandered back down to the secure comfort you felt in his hand.

You felt your own secret throb.

It made you flinch just a little bit and Baekhyun’s hand shifted then. He moved, lifting the tight grip for a moment and you wondered if he was done, would he take his hand back and leave you cold and afraid again? The lift was for the shift of his fingers and you felt the push of each digit between yours. He pushed his fingers between yours; interlocking your hands together with his and his thumb moved lightly over your own thumb, brushing comforting strokes again and again through the loud and scary and shocking scenes that played over that screen.

This time the racing you felt in your chest had nothing to do with the scary movie. He was touching you. He was holding your hand in secret. It felt forbidden with his date sitting right beside him like she was and with your date seated right beside you like he was. All of your attention was down on the slow pressure you felt from his thumb as it traced the shape of your own thumb down from the very bottom up to the tip, around again. The simple up and down had a slow and sensual rhythm to it. When he lifted his hand his thumb moved and you held your breath to feel that same very slow touching trace the outline of the palm of your hand again and again. He drew absentminded shapes into your skin with the pointed tip of his thumb and your eyes drifted closed as the longing grew within you. He followed the paths of the creases in your skin like a palm reader. He did not even need light to see them, he simply felt them and traced along the paths.

You let him.

You felt bewitched.

You loved him.

The credits rolled on the screen and the lights switched on. The change was abrupt. You were taken by surprise and shocked by it like you were from the jump scares in the film.

His warmth left you. His wandering light touch, his deliberate and careful exploration of the lines that made up the palm of your hand vanished.

Everyone was standing and everyone was walking out of the theatre house and your mind felt clouded and dazed but you followed where their steps led and you found yourself standing outside of the exit doors with the three other people who you entered with.

Baekhyun stood beside Mia and Ben occupied the space of the sidewalk square that you also stood inside.

It was the end of a night. You felt an overwhelming urge for this evening to be done so you could go home and shower and maybe eat something sweet and distracting and maybe made out of chocolate.

“Well this was fun,” it was your own voice that ultimately called it.

Mia had been looking at Baekhyun who had been looking down at his own feet as he lightly tapped his foot on the concrete below. Three taps.

Tap, tap, tap.

You felt a jolt of realization. Baekhyun had just tapped his foot thrice on the floor below him well within your sight and you recognized what that meant. He was feeling done. He was done with all of this exhausting socializing and being out in public with so many people around and he wanted to go home now. This was him asking you for help now as he wasn't sure how to end the date but wanted it to be over.

“What about...grabbing some drinks, maybe...” Mia was talking only to Baekhyun as she looked at him, “if you aren't too tired.”

“Hey Baek, isn’t your grandmother coming over early tomorrow? Do you still have to get ready for that?” You interjected suddenly and Baekhyun looked up into your face with his mouth open and you watched his eyes move slowly over your face as he recognized what you were doing. You were giving him an out. Mia had asked him to go for drinks and you were giving him an excuse, should he need it.

You both knew his grandma came every other Sunday. You both vividly remembered the wonderful visit you had at the beginning of the week with her and she wasn’t due to arrive again until next Sunday.

He could simply correct you if he really did want to go with her. He could call you a dummy and tell you that you had the wrong week again and playfully tap you on the head to jog your brain back into functioning the right way as he often did when you got something mixed up.

“Oh, yeah she is,” Baekhyun grabbed your convenient reminder from the air and smiled a rueful smile directed at Mia. His smile widened with the wince on his face, “that’s too bad.” He added and Mia took it well.

She smiled and nodded her head and there were well wishes for a safe trip home all around as you all parted ways.

Ben said he would text you later. Baekhyun told Mia the same and you waited until they both walked away to follow Baekhyun back to his car for the quiet ride home.

The silence was heavy, but it was comfortable.

Baekhyun didn't speak at all and you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tired. He wasn’t normally an extroverted person and found it very draining to carry on a full conversation with friends he knew well. Strangers like he had been with tonight, well, you could see the fatigue in his movements and you knew he needed something warm to drink and maybe some comfort with a familiar favorite tv show to zone out in front of.

You handled it better. You were used to having to go out of your home occasionally and you even enjoyed socializing with your coworkers on the few days you went in to the office for work. You felt a bit drained but mostly you were preoccupied with watching how he was handling it and you were also burning with curiosity to know how Baekhyun felt about the whole thing.

He’d wandered into the living room and he found the sofa. You followed him close behind and grabbed the remote, flipping to a familiar and funny cartoon that you often saw him playing in the background as he worked on things. He didn't usually watch it that closely but it was comforting enough to stay on and keep his mind occupied for a while.

You didn't speak. Everything you had to ask him could wait. Even the scolding you had for him about how he acted toward Ben could also wait. You’d let the man breathe a little first.

You busied yourself in the kitchen making two cups of hot tea and when you returned you found his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes still glued to the screen. He had a passive smile on his face and he reacted positively to the wacky scenarios the characters found themselves in. He would occasionally speak out loud, speaking along with a funny line he knew by heart and you found it impossible to resist saying the follow up joke. You knew this show as well as he did.

He accepted the tea with a smile and had a few sips and you set your mug on the coffee table in favorable of the comfortable side of the sofa, the side with the pillows that allowed you to rest your head comfortably as you watched the big tv.

You were feeling pretty good. Baekhyun had now officially gone on his first date with a real girl who wasn’t you and he’d had a nice time. You could see from where you laid your head down how relaxed his face was as he giggled at the show.

You stretched and you felt his warm thigh with your foot. This sofa was long enough for you to stretch out completely and you only barely reached where he sat at the other side. You wiggled your toes, unable to resist the light messing with him that you often gave in to and his hand reached down to grab ahold of your foot, which he held in place as he paid attention to the tv.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you sat up a little bit to pull it out.

You saw a text message from Ben.

From the preview you got the idea of what kind of text message the man would be sending you an hour after your first, and apparently your last date with him.

-Hey you seem like a super cool girl, but...

The preview showed you enough to know that he was dumping you before you’d even gotten anything started with him.

You opened the text. Your curiosity outweighed your sense of self preservation.

-...but whatever’s going on between you and your roommate, well it doesn’t really seem like there’s much room for me. I just don't think I can start something knowing I’ve already lost. Thanks for inviting me tonight. The movie was fun. Good luck with everything. - Ben

You felt the sting.

You couldn't help it. You’d spent all evening watching Baekhyun interact with Mia with every ounce of your self control devoted to not letting your jealousy show at all. At one point you’d been so damn engrossed in them that you forgot Ben was even there. What an unfair and shitty situation to have put him in. You quickly keyed out an apology for your crappy date etiquette and thanked him for going out with you tonight.

You couldn't even blame him for anything. He had been sweet and he had tried his best to be the perfect gentleman. What had you expected?

You sent the last message you would ever send to Ben and tossed your phone roughly toward the coffee table. It bounced but landed in the middle.

The racket called Baekhyun’s attention and he turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Ben just rejected me.”

Somehow saying this out loud to Baekhyun felt better than hiding it from him. It felt less miserable than keeping it inside of yourself and letting yourself suffer the sting of the rejection alone.

Baekhyun’s lips pulled into a small frown and he took out his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it roughly on the coffee table beside yours. It took a similar bounce and your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.

“No way, not Mia too,” you said in genuine fear and Baekhyun shook his head with his shrug still well in place.

“Nah, I just can't lay down with my phone in my pocket,” he said as he wiggled on the sofa trying to get comfortable, “though in hindsight I can see how you would think that, sorry. Mia hasn’t texted yet.”

He was wiggling, finding no comfort in all the positions he tried and you caught his wandering eyes for a second as you lightly tapped a hand over your belly.

This…

This would be fine. This was something you both did sometimes. Baekhyun said your belly was warm and comfy and made the best noises and he liked to use you as a pillow when he was just too tired to go to his own bed.

He moved right away at your invitation and you let your legs part around his chest as he laid his head down right on top of you. He turned his head to face the tv and didn't even squirm too much before he sighed out loud. His arms laid on either side of your waist and you felt the constriction as he lightly squeezed around you.

You really hadn’t gotten to touch him all day. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you felt a low moan from the back of his throat travel though your body as you raked your nails down the back of his head to his nape.

“Peanut,” you said softly, feeling every little bit of the annoying little tickle of that stupid secret sitting inside of you.

You could feel the heaviness of his body as he gave in and relaxed his muscles on you. You felt every breath he took and they seemed to be changing as you played with his hair and he gave in to the relaxing comfort you offered him.

“Hmm?” He replied after a long while. You angled your face and could see that his eyes were closed.

“How was the date? Was it nice?”

You had so many hopes for him. You were trying your best to ignore the pangs of your own selfish jealousy and get past it all to get to something good for him. Something that would make him understand how incredible he was. How beautiful he was inside and out and how precious of a human being he was.

“Mhmm, I liked it.” He said softly and he shifted and you felt him tighten his hold around your waist briefly before he relaxed again.

“Did you really? Do you think you liked Mia?” You kept your voice strong. You did not allow your fears to overcome your voice. You were okay with this if he was okay.

He did not answer right away. You’d stopped playing with his hair and you kept your hand rested over his head. He was so warm. He was so lovely.

“Do you want me to like Mia?”

No.

Mia would be so good to him.

You did not answer. Your answer would have been no. It would have been selfish. You’d just been dumped by your date, how dare his date have gone so well. You’d both been on the same date. You could still see the way she looked at him. She found him just as lovely as you did.

You felt a thickness at the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.

“I’m trying, Bug. She’s very nice to talk to. Do you think I should like her?”

Was this because of his mistrust of people? Was this his shyness about letting someone he didn't know very well in close?

You couldn't respond. You did not trust yourself to do the right thing.

“You should go rest if you’re sleepy,” you said, you know, like a coward.

It took him a few minutes of laying on top of you before he realized that you were right and he would be much more comfortable in his own bed. He nodded and pushed up with his arms, and his eyes stayed closed and his head stayed hung down as his feet shuffled and he made his way into his bedroom, leaving his door open you merely heard the loud sound of him plopping down on his bed.

You were stuck where he left you.

Stuck in about as crappy a mood as you’d ever found yourself.

You hated everything about this. You hated how much you loved him and you hated how receptive he was to the idea of dating Mia. You hated how she looked at him and giggled at his small jokes and you hated HATED the way his cheeks blushed and the shy smiles he gave her when she talked to him.

You laid there and you stewed in your mood for longer than was good for you and the only thing that made your it up was the simultaneous buzzing that brought both of your cell phones to life on the coffee table.

You reached for yours. It’s as your dating coach app. Baekhyun had received a new message from Mia. The feelings that surged through you were taking over your sense of what was good and what was right and what was proper behavior for someone like you to participate in.

You swiped to read the message.

-Hi Baekhyun. Sorry I couldn't wait until tomorrow to text you. I had an amazing time tonight and I was wondering if you would like to meet up tomorrow after your Grandmother’s visit for coffee? I have something I’d like to ask you.

You felt as if your body was on fire.

You could feel it deep inside your chest, deeper still inside your belly where his head had been resting moments before. You felt it in the palm of your hand where his thumb had traced the patterns of lines there. You felt it in your lips that he had kissed and in your tongue ached inside of your mouth from your stupid secret.

You reached for your phone. You opened the app for the power he’d given only to you and you responded to her message as if you were Baekhyun.

-Hi, Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll meet you at 1pm.

Your hands moved on their own. You moved to the internal commands of your app and you deleted both of the messages from the chat history. When you picked up his phone you saw the notification for Mia’s message vanish before your eyes and when you unlocked it and accessed his chat log, there was no sign of the unimaginable and unforgivable sin you had just committed against him.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey​ @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex

[artist-tae]

fate (jungkook x fem!reader)

Summary: You and your tattoo ex Jeon Jungkook have been broken up for the past 2 years. But what happens he enters your life again when you just have gotten over him?

Pairing: jungkook x reader, reader x jimin

Genre: angsty af, tattoo artist Jungkook, eventual smut (?), break up!au

Words: 3.4k

Chapter 4/6 (1) (2) (3) (5)

WARNING: This chapter does mention sexual harassment. If this affects you, I advise you please not to read. Viewer’s discretion is advised.

The next morning, you lay in bed as the sunlight dripped into your room. Your head was pounding from last night, and you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. Why did Jungkook still have so much influence over you? You groaned on the pillow, covering yourself in the blankets. 

A knock on the door filled the room. You heard the door creak open to see Jimin holding a plate of pancakes. He gave you a sympathetic look as you were buried in your little cocoon.

"Are you planning to get up today?" He laughed at you, placing the plate on the edge of the bed. 

You shook your head, the smell of the pancakes hit your nose and suddenly your stomach was rumbling with hunger. You sat up in bed and reached over for the pancakes. You gave Jimin a thank you as he plopped himself beside you on the bed. You took a bite out of your pancake, fluffy as always. Not as tasty as Jungkook’s a voice shot from your thoughts. You immediately felt guilt rush through your body. Jimin had been nothing but good to you. 

"Do you want to talk about last night?" Jimin said calmly, bringing up the elephant in the room. 

You broke eye-contact with him as visions of last night flashed before you. Jungkook kissing you and Jimin confessing to you. It all seemed too much for you to handle. 

"I don’t think it would help me if I’m honest," you replied. 

Jimin nodded with understanding. You were grateful for him not pushing you. What was there not to like about Jimin? He was a gentleman, had a good job, was funny and patient. Why couldn’t you reciprocate his love for you? 

Jimin dropped his head to rest on your shoulder. A simple gesture that you used to think nothing about, but now your mind was running with thoughts. 

"How did you even meet a guy like him?"

Your eyes widen at his question. You couldn’t even remember the last time you thought about how your relationship with Jungkook started. It just seemed so long ago. 

The noise of your friend’s car honking signalling that they were outside your house. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror while grabbing your school bag. You rushed outside your house to see all your friends in the car. Jumping in, you greeted all of them as you all made your way to school.

You and your friends were all gossiping and texting, catching up with the school drama you all missed. During high school, you were in the popular group of girls. Looks and reputation were most important to you during this time. You were always put together, was in the cheerleading group and studied hard in your classes.

"Hey, _______" your friend piped up, looking away from her phone, "I heard that jock guy you’ve been hanging around with wants to take you to prom!"

Your face immediately turned red at her words. Prom was coming up and you had your eyes on one guy. Yet he still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask you even though you were declining offers from other boys at your school. Your body was filled with a rush of adrenaline. Maybe today was the day he would finally ask you.

When you and your friends pulled up into the school’s car park, you all sat for a bit longer before the bell rang for classes to officially start. Suddenly, you heard the sound of an engine revving behind you. All your friends turned their heads to see a motorbike pulling up in the space beside you. With the driver having a helmet on, you couldn’t see the man's face, but you already knew who it was. 

Your friend scoffed, "Jeon Jungkook", as she watched the man get off his motorbike. 

"I heard he got arrested for drugs", another friend piped up, "He’s such a freak."

You nodded in agreement. "He's in my chemistry class," you said.

While you and he did not sit together in chemistry class, it didn’t stop you two both sharing glances at each other. You both were in opposite worlds. He was covered in tattoos and you worried about your hair and grades.  You never actually had a conversation with him. Besides, the occasionally sorry if you bumped into him or if you had to pair up with him for an experiment. He seemed quiet and reserved and didn’t want anything to do with the other students. His mysteriousness fascinated you, but you knew your friends would make fun of you if you ever confessed it to them. 

You sat in chemistry class bored. Your friend was not in class today, so you were sitting by yourself staring into space while the teacher talked away. Your mind went to the idea of your crush asking you to prom. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered away at the idea. You knew you were seeing him at lunch, so you were quite nervous as time passed.

"________ and Jungkook, you two can pair up as both your partners are absent today."

 You were pulled away from your thoughts by your teacher’s words. Hearing the sound of a chair moving and footsteps coming up behind you. You looked up to see Jungkook staring down at you. His face was expressionless as he sat down in the chair beside you. You gave a quick glance across his neck tattoos and silver rings on his long fingers.

As the teacher passed out the experiment sheet, you had the urge to actually have a conversation with him. You thought it was very irritating that Jungkook seemed to think he was above the rest of the students at school. Before you knew it, you turned your entire body to face him. 

"Hey"

Why are you talking to him? Nobody ever talks to him. Especially not the popular goody two shoes. 

"Hi", he responded dryly, raising his eyebrow at you. 

So enthusiastic you thought to yourself sarcastically.  He obviously had no intention of talking to you. 

"So, what part of the experiment do you want to do?" You suggested to him. 

Jungkook glanced down at the paper and shrugged. 

"It’s up to you."

You give him a glare and told him which parts of the experiments you two were doing. As you were preparing the chemical liquid, you made another attempt at making chat. 

"Are you going to the prom next month?"

"I don’t know, are you planning on asking me?" he shoot back at you. 

Your jaw almost dropped at his sly words. You looked away from his face and back to the experiment, reading the instructions so he couldn’t see the red in your face.

"You wish. Are you too cool to go to your school’s prom? " You sneered back at him.

Jungkook’s eyes turned to yours as his posture straightened up.

"Maybe I am too cool," he replied, "Or that prom is only fun for the popular group and everyone else just sits and watches, bored out of their mind."

"That isn’t true. What would you know about school? You hardly ever show up and when you do you never talk to anyone. "

"Well, I’m sorry I’m not in the popular group where the only thing I do is gossip and worry about my looks." Jungkook spat back at you.

You were frustrated that your attempt at a talk had now turned into an argument.

"You’re such a jerk Jungkook. I just wanted to have a conversation while we did this boring experiment. " You scoffed at him. You rested your chin on your palm, trying to breathe at a normal rate.

"It was a nice try, princess. But you and I are not the same and have nothing in common. Let us do this experiment and leave class so we never have to speak again. " He explained.

His word dug a sharp pain in your heart. He had no interest in talking to you at all. It was the first time you felt a sense of embarrassment for even trying. Why did he have to be so honest and blunt with you? You decided to take his words and you both carried on with the experiment in silence.

Near the end of class, you both finished up with the experiment and were now taking notes on it. You bit your lip and sneaked a glance over at Jungkook. He had finished writing the notes and was now staring at you.

"Why do you never talk to anyone?" You mumbled.

Jungkook gave you another look. He thought the conversation was over. His eyes darted around your perfect face and saw that his words hit you. He didn’t expect you to have such a strong reaction, he didn’t think you cared about what he thought.

"I would just rather be alone," he answered.

"But don’t you ever get lonely?"

Yes.

"No. Not at all. " He said blankly.

You opened your mouth to speak but the bell rang indicating it was lunch time. Your mind immediately turned to your crush. You shot up off your chair and quickly threw your stuff in your bag. You gave Jungkook one last look and said goodbye, quickly hurrying out of the class.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at how fast your emotions changed. He thought about how you genuinely wanted to talk to him and get to know him. He did not know why he was so defensive, maybe because no one had ever made an effort to talk to him. He threw his bag around his shoulder, ready to leave when he spotted something on the ground. His gaze landed on a pair of house keys. Assuming it must have been yours due to how quickly you left the room; it must have dropped out of your bag. He reached down and picked the metal key up, slipping it into his pockets. He better return it to you before lunch is finished.

Meet me behind the school building.

You reread the text over and over again. You felt like you couldn’t breathe because of how excited you were. You quickly pulled out your pocket mirror and checked your makeup and hair. He was finally going to ask you to prom after dropping so many hints to him. You rushed to the back of the school building. It was always deserted and hidden, so it would just be you and him there.

You turned the corner and saw him standing there. You thought your heart was going to burst from joy. You walked over to him, fiddling with your fingers in nervousness.

"________!" The tall jock yelled at you as he saw you coming.

A wide grin spread across your face hearing him say your name. You gave a greeting to him and stood in front of him. He asked you how chemistry was, and you just said it was boring as usual. You wanted him to pop the question to you.

"So we have been talking for a while now," he began.

Your back immediately straightened up at his words. You buzzed with excitement. You nodded at his words.

"And I feel like we have been giving each other signals recently."

You nodded again in agreement. The tension was now building up in your stomach.

"So that's why I wanted to ask you…"

"Yes?" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Would you want to hook up with me after school in my car?"

Your face and heart immediately dropped.

"What?" was all you could say.

"Come on baby, I know you have been begging for it."

Your heart was shattering, and you couldn’t help but cringe at yourself. You turned your feet and walked away. You were so upset you couldn’t say anything to him.

“Where are you going?” He said catching up to you.

“Leave me alone now” You spat at him.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm, pushing you into a wall. You flinched at the pain of the rough brick wall hitting your back and the man’s huge body pressing up against you.

"Stop playing so hard to get _______." The boy whispered into your ear. "I promise I’ll make you feel so good."

His hands moved to your hips to hold you in place. All you could do was shake your head.

"No. Please. No "

As you felt his hand move under your shirt, the weight of his body was suddenly gone. Jungkook was throwing blunt punches at the boy's face before you could even comprehend what was going on. You stood in shock for a moment, watching blood come out of the man’s nose as Jungkook kept beating him with all his strength.

"I swear on my life, if you touch her again you are dead!" Jungkook bellowed in the man’s face.

Before Jungkook could land another punch on the man, you quickly grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away.

"Leave him Jungkook, it is not worth it." You exclaimed at him.

Jungkook's gaze landed on yours, his chest was still heaving up and down in rage. He suddenly grabbed your hand and took you towards his motorcycle. He passed you the helmet and lifted you onto the seat. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you. He climbed on after you and started up the engine.  Your natural instinct was to wrap your hands around his waist as the bike started to move.

Jungkook drove out of the school. He kept driving straight until he came to a stop next to a fast-food restaurant's parking lot. As soon as he parked the motorbike, you took off your helmet and he climbed off the motorbike.

Before you could even say anything to him, Jungkook grabbed both your shoulders and stared into your eyes.

"Are you okay _____?" He asked, finally saying something.

"Jungkook I-"

"Are you okay?" he repeated more sternly.

"Yes." You nodded, answering him.

"Did he touch you?" he continued to ask. His face was covered in concern for you.

"No, he didn’t." You spoke.

You saw Jungkook breathe a sigh of relief. Who knows what Jungkook would have done to the guy if he actually had touched you. Jungkook let go of your shoulders and leaned on his bike. He stared down at the ground, his hair covering his face.

"I’m sorry that happened to you."

You gave a weak smile at his sincere words.

"And I am sorry I was such a dick to you this morning. I don’t know why I was. I was just so confused. " He explained.

Seeing this new side of Jungkook was unexpected to you. You didn’t know he could be so gentle and worried.

"It’s okay," you assured him.

"Do you mind if we start over again? Please? " Jungkook questioned, facing you.

"Sure thing, Jungkook" you said, giving a small laugh.

You both sat in silence for a while, staring into nothingness. Then a thought popped into your head.

"Why were you even going behind the school building in the first place?" You asked.

Jungkook’s smile appeared as he dug a hand into his pockets.

"I believe you dropped your keys," he said as he held up your house keys.

You both laughed as you shook your head with embarrassment.

"Then I guess I better owe you something." You said to him.

Your eyes landed on the fast-food place beside you.

"I’ll treat us to lunch!" You responded by tilting your head towards the burger joint.

You and Jungkook sat in the restaurant booth and talked until late in the day. Never before had you felt such a strong connection with someone as you did with Jungkook. You got to learn everything about him. His tattoos, his parents, his ambitions, and his opinions. You told him everything about yourself and your family, your college plans, and your future goals. He was paying close attention to you as you spoke. He admired the way your eyes sparkled, and your hands moved as you rambled on about school or your hobbies. Jungkook could sit and listen to you talk all day and never get sick of it.

When the fast-food restaurant finally closed for the night, Jungkook offered to drive you home, which you gladly accepted. You noticed the soft wind on your face and your hands around Jungkook as he and you drove home. It was comforting to be able to simply hold him. Jungkook wished the night could go on forever.

His bike pulled up beside your house, signalling the end of his journey. The only thing that made things visible to you were the streetlights. Jungkook helped you in getting off the bike by holding your hand. Your heart thumped a little faster than usual as a result of the gesture. You both stood silently facing each other. You were both adjusting to the fact that the night had come to an end. “Well, thanks for driving me home.” You said gratefully.

"No worries" Jungkook responded, tracing his tattoo on his arm.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked.

You nodded, "I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. "

Jungkook smiled with understanding.

"I guess I will see you tomorrow in chemistry." He spoke up.

He knew that this night would never happen again. Things will return to normal, and you will never speak to him again. He said so himself, you two were two very different people. You were thinking about it too.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." You uttered to him.

Jungkook climbed back on to the bike as you turned to walk away. However, you could only take one step forward as your body froze into place. You couldn’t just leave Jungkook without saying something to him, but what?

Suddenly, you spun around and marched back up to face Jungkook. Before he could open his mouth, you cupped his jaw with your hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It lasted for a second before you pulled away. Jungkook stood with his eyes wide and expressionless. You blushed in embarrassment and turned away again. Not until his hands grabbed your hips and made you face him.

"No, you don’t" he whispered before pressing his lips back onto yours. It was pure ecstasy, and your heart was pounding with happiness as he pulled you into him.

All of your high school days were spent with him after that. When your friend group began to disapprove of Jungkook, you gradually distanced yourself from them. You and he spent the majority of your time together studying, eating, and sleeping. Jungkook enjoyed taking you out to eat or surprising you with a trip to the amusement park on special occasions. Jungkook finally confessed his feelings for you and officially asked you to be his after your second date. He was so ecstatic that you had accepted that he spun you around in his arms, nearly making you dizzy.

Jungkook asked you to prom later in the year. Even if he didn't like the idea, he understood how much it meant to you. He was also fascinated by the prospect of seeing you in a breathtaking dress. He even dressed up and put on a black suit and tie. He was a gentleman, bringing you flowers and reminding you throughout the night how beautiful you were. It was during the slow dance that he finally told you he loved you. He was madly in love with you. There was no one else who was more suited to him. That night, you gave him your virginity, and he swore he'd never leave you.

The love you two shared was indescribable. Jungkook was yours, and you would be his for  forever.

Jungkook sat in bed, reminiscing about you and him. He let you go despite the fact that you were his soulmate. As he remembered how you looked at Jimin, a small tear rolled down his cheek. He was all too familiar with the expression on your face.

He knew you would be happier without him. It was a thought that crushed him.

Perhaps it was time to let you go.

(Next Chapter) 

[blackspoon99]

The Sign of Three Pt. 2

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: Mention of Blood and Near Death, Spoilers to Season 3!

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

You took your seat at the head table and found yourself relieved that you were sat in between Janine and Sherlock. You felt immediate guilt at that thought. Dinner was slightly tense and awkward. Possibly only for you. For the most part, you made small talk with Janine while Sherlock read over his stack of index cards. Little boughs of anxiety kept creeping in the back of your mind as you replayed Sherlock and Janine’s conversation over and over. You peeked over at Sherlock to your right and took a healthy sip of champagne. You decided you would try your best to be present. This day wasn’t about you, after all. Your attention was pulled to the center of the room when a waiter tapped a spoon against a champagne glass.

“Pray silence for the best man”

This was it. You can do it, Sherlock. You watched Sherlock rise from his seat and stiffly fasten one of the buttons on his blazer. He looked unbelievably uncomfortable. You smiled when you noticed Sherlock adjusting the flower you placed in his blazer pocket. The wedding guests applauded and waited for Sherlock to begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others.” Sherlock blinked several times.

“Er ... w...” Another awkward pause. “…Also”

You looked over at John then at Molly and Greg. They wore the same concerned look on their faces.

“Telegrams” John whispered to Sherlock

“Right, uhm…” Sherlock patted the pockets of his blazer and pants then finally noticed them on the table near his place setting. “First things first. Telegrams.” He lifted up the pile and inspected the first one. “Well, they’re not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition,” Sherlock muttered quickly. “Because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently.”

You saw John narrow his eyes and turn to Mary. You nervously looked down at your hands in your lap. Sherlock read the first note.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Watson. So sorry I’m unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford.”

“Oh, Mike,” John said, smiling.

“To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big ...” Sherlock paused and suddenly looked like he had swallowed a lemon. “... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted.” He looked up at the ceiling, blinking repeatedly again. You tried to suppress your laughter. “Mary – lots of love, ...” Yet another pause. “…Poppet” He finished, popping the “t” at the end. Mary snickered.

Sherlock straightened his back and took the next card. “Don’t bugger it up, Sher—” he abruptly cleared his throat and looked straight at you. You tried to hide your laughter. He’d finally gotten to the note you slipped in with the telegrams. Everyone would have heard it was actually quite a nice note if Sherlock had read the entire thing out loud. It read: Don’t bugger it up, Sherlock. Only kidding. You’re doing great. X, y/n.

“Um, special day” Sherlock threw a telegram over his shoulder. “Very special day” He then proceeded to toss each telegram straight behind him. “Love, love, love, love. Bit of a theme – you get the general gist. People are basically fond.” The wedding guests laughed, interpreting it as a joke. Sherlock looked confused, then picked up the other stack of index cards. He began to shuffle through them, clearly trying to find his place.

“Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm ...”

You anxiously looked up at him, feeling the awkward tension in the room.

“I’m afraid, John, I can’t congratulate you.”

Your eyes snapped over to John who looked as shocked as you felt.

“All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world.”

You looked around the room at all the wedding guests as some of them began to murmur. Greg and Molly had the same horrified look on their faces. Sherlock continued on.

“Today we honor the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species.”

You placed your head in your hands. You knew you should have made Sherlock let you read over his speech. You hadn’t wanted to make him feel nervous or like you didn’t trust him.

“But anyway ... let’s talk about John.”

“Yeah, good idea” you hissed up at Sherlock. He ignored you.

“If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me.”

You heard Greg snort across the room. This was going south fast. You couldn’t believe Sherlock was insulting John on his wedding day. He must be spiraling. There had to be something you could do to save this. Fake an emergency, maybe? You could at least buy some time that way.

“Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides. It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favor exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel.”

Ouch. You tried so hard not to look at Sherlock as you felt your ears burning with embarrassment. You adverted your gaze and focused on not allowing yourself to be hurt by what he’d just said.

Somehow, Sherlock continued. “And contrast is, after all, God’s own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation ... or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot.”

Oh boy. Now Sherlock was going straight to insulting the vicar. The murmuring began to pick up again. You looked over at John, who was now hiding his face in his hands while Mary frowned.

“The point I’m trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-around obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet.”

You looked up at Sherlock in genuine surprise.

“I am dismissive of the virtuous ...” He looked to the vicar. “... unaware of the beautiful ...” Your heart stopped when he looked straight at you. Or maybe in your general direction? You looked over your shoulder at Janine, who was smiling. He could have just as easily been looking at her.

Sherlock finally turned to John and Mary “... and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend. Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing.”

Just when you’d started to doubt him, Sherlock had surpassed all your expectations. He always managed to surprise you, every time.

“John, I am a ridiculous man ... redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I’m apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion. Actually, now I can.” Sherlock turned to Mary. “Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss... so sorry again about that last one.” John laughed. Sherlock leaned back over to you and winked. You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“So know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.”

You found yourself fighting tears. You were not alone. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?” Sherlock again looked rather confused. He turned to look at you. “Did I do it wrong?”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you said quietly.

John stood up and pulled Sherlock into a hug. The crowd applauded. “I haven’t finished yet,” Sherlock said as John released him.

“Yes, I know,” said John

“So, on to some funny stories ...” Sherlock attempted to yell over the applause.

“Can you – can you wait ’til I sit down?” John asked.

“So, on to some funny stories about John,” Sherlock continued as the noise died down. “So, for funny stories, one has to look no further than John’s blog.” Sherlock pulled out his phone. “The record of our time together. We’ve tackled some strange cases, some frustrating cases, and ‘touching’ cases. But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don’t we? The Bloody Guardsman.”

You remembered this case. It was only a few weeks ago,

You, John, Mary, and Sherlock sat in the living room of Sherlock’s flat, completely surrounded by lists, items, and menus for the wedding. You’d initially been surprised at Sherlock’s dedication to wedding planning. The back wall above the couch was a perfectly organized record of everything that needed to be done in the next few weeks down to all the potential fonts for the place cards. Sherlock had even created a to-scale model of the reception venue sometime during his fits of mania. You were no psychologist, but if you were you’d say that Sherlock’s meticulous efforts were all in an attempt to force some control into a daunting situation.

John and Mary were seated at the table near the windows looking over the bridesmaids’ dress options. Sherlock stood studying the guest list on the monstrous wall of wedding planning. You were sitting in John’s chair with your legs hanging over one of the arms, flipping through catering menus.

“Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin.” Sherlock spoke from across the room.

Mary forced a smile. “Ah, orphan’s lot. Friends – that’s all I have. Lots of friends.”

You didn’t know anything about Mary’s family except that for unknown reasons, she didn’t have one. She kept her cards so close to the vest, you doubted John knew anything either. “And your friends adore you, Mary,” you said, attempting to cheer her up.

“Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48,” Sherlock spoke over you. “Sherlock,” you groaned. He didn’t turn around from the wall and continued to fiddle with the clippings.

“Or maybe 11:55, with allowed time for delays,”

“Sherlock,” you tried again. “The rehearsal’s not for another two weeks. Just calm down”

He whipped around to face you. “Calm? I am calm. I’m extremely calm.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you said sarcastically, noting the wild look in his eyes.

“Let’s get back to the reception, come on,” Mary said from across the room, diffusing the tension. “John’s cousin. Top table?”

Sherlock rose to join John and Mary at the table. “Hmm. Hates you. Can’t even bear to think about you.”

You rolled your eyes. You tossed the catering menus to the side and walked over to the table to look over Mary’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” Mary asked, shocked

“Second class post, cheap card bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She’s obviously unconsciously retaining saliva.”

“Don’t worry Mary, I’ve met her and she’s the worst. Let’s stick her by the bogs,” you interjected.

“Oh yes,” Mary agreed.

“Pretending I didn’t hear that,” John said, looking down at his phone.

“Who else hates me?” Mary asked Sherlock. He turned around and handed her a handwritten list. “Oh great – thanks,” Mary said unenthusiastically.

“Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting,” John announced. He’d been looking through inquiries for cases on the blog. It was only a little annoying that he wasn’t helping. “How about this: ‘My husband is three people’? It’s interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin.”

“Identical triplets – one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes.” Sherlock bent down and pulled a tray out from under the coffee table that had two different elaborately folded napkins. “Swan or Sydney Opera House?”

“Wow…” you said flatly. He’s lost it. You bit your lip in concern and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Where’d you learn to do that?!” Mary asked, impressed.

“Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation ...”

“You’re lying, Sherlock,” you said, teasing.

“I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of ...”

“Sherlock, out with it.” You pressed him further.

“Okay – I learned it on YouTube.”

“Well then, Sydney Opera House, please,” Mary said with a smile.

You turned away, thinking. “Hey, Mary? Can I show you what I was thinking for my bridesmaid dress?”

“Uh, sure,” She replied.

“Great!” you said and grabbed her wrist. You pulled her into the kitchen and closed the door. “Mary, we have to do the thing. Right now.”

“Are you sure, he seems okay-ish?” She said skeptically.

“Okay-ish?! Mary, he’s watching YouTube videos on napkin folding. He’s terrified.”

“Right. You’re right. Okay, you speak with Sherlock while I get John.”

You opened the doors to the living room to see Sherlock sitting on the floor, surrounded by at least 15 napkins folded in the opera house shape.

“That just sort of ... happened,” he said dropping his hands to his side.

“Did you just do that now?” John asked, finally looking up from his phone.

“Okay. John?” Mary started. “I’m about to give Beth a call, she’ll want to talk to you as well.” Mary held her phone up and gestured to the kitchen.

“Oh Beth, that’s right. We’ve been meaning to call her.” John got up and followed her.

You walked over to Sherlock and took a seat on the floor next to him. He reached under the table for more napkins, but you caught his hand and shook your head.

“I think we have enough for now. I actually need to talk to you about something, Sherlock. I’m worried about John.” He looked over at you, listening intently. You lowered your voice and inched closer. “I think all the wedding planning is getting to him. He needs to get out for a bit, I can tell.” Sherlock nodded along with you. “I can’t say anything because he won’t listen to me. He’s just going to think I’m worrying too much. Could you please find him a case, any case? For me?”  

“Yes, yes, of course. You can count on me.” Sherlock whispered. He stood up and carefully smoothed out his suit. John walked back into the room. You got up and silently joined Mary into the kitchen. A few moments later, Sherlock and John walked into the kitchen.

“Er, we’re just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks.” John awkwardly fumbled over his words.

“Ties,” Sherlock interjected.

“Let’s go with socks,” Mary said.

“Could be a while,” John said. “We’ve got to make sure they match my—”

“Tie” Sherlock interrupted. John looked back at him, exasperated.

“My coat in there?” John cleared his throat. Mary nodded and John turned the corner. Sherlock leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Just going to take him out for a bit – run him.”

“Good work, Sherlock,” you said with a smile. Sherlock winked at you and walked out of the door. When they were out of sight, you turned to Mary.

“Do you fancy a drink?”

“Let’s go,” She replied.

That had been the end of your involvement in the case of the Bloody Guardsman. You had heard the rest of the story from John. Sherlock hadn’t particularly felt like sharing. Probably because he never solved it. You listened to Sherlock lay out his chosen details in his speech all the way up to Sherlock and John finding Stephen Bainbridge bleeding out in a shower in the barracks.

“Private Bainbridge had just come off guard duty. He’d stood there for hours, plenty of people watching, nothing apparently wrong. He came off duty and within minutes was nearly dead from a wound in his stomach, but there was no weapon. Where did it go? Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to consider this: a murderer who can walk through walls, a weapon that can vanish – but in all of this, there is only one element which can be said to be truly remarkable. Would anyone like to make a guess?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, Sherlock was challenging people to solve a case on the spot that he didn’t even figure out himself. You pitied whoever he chose to humiliate.

“Scotland Yard.” Greg looked up from his drink. “Have you got a theory?” Greg stared blankly at Sherlock. “Yeah, you. You’re a detective – broadly speaking. Got a theory?”

This was going to be bad.

“Er, um, if the, uh, if the if-if-if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um ... grating in the air vent ... maybe a-a ballista or a – or a – or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could … could crawl in there.” Molly cringed. “So, yeah, we’re loo... we’re looking for a-a-a-a dwarf.”

“Brilliant,” said Sherlock

“Really?” Greg replied immediately

“No,” Sherlock said coldly. Ruthless. Greg lowered his head back into his drink. Across the room, you saw Tom whispering something into Molly’s ear.

“Hello? Who was that?” Sherlock asked and looked around the room before settling on Tom. “Tom. Got a theory?” Tom slowly stood up across the room.

Poor Tom looked uneasy. He shifted around for a bit before reluctantly giving his opinion. “Um ... attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone that broke after piercing his abdomen ... like a meat ... dagger.”

Molly wore a look of uncomprehending embarrassment. You looked to Sherlock. He had a look on his face that was a strange mix of smugness and disbelief. “A meat dagger.” He stated.

“Yes,” Tom said, awkwardly.

“Sit down.” Molly hissed. She reached up and yanked Tom down to his seat by his sleeve.

“No,” said Sherlock plainly. “There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson: who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life.”

You smiled at John’s proud expression. So that was the point of Sherlock’s roundabout story. It surprised you because when they’d initially came home that day, all Sherlock could focus on was how the attempted murderer did it and why he couldn’t figure it out. It was nice to see he had developed a new perspective.

“The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder – or attempted murder – I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which I am aware. However, I’m not just here to praise John – I’m also here to embarrass him, so let’s move on to some ...”

“No-no, wait, so how was it ... how was it done?” Lestrade interrupted.

Now Sherlock would have to admit he didn’t solve the case. You smirked. That’s what you get for insisting on embarrassing Greg and Tom.  

“How was what done?” Sherlock asked, attempting to deflect

“The stabbing,” Lestrade clarified.

Sherlock looked down for a moment, then reluctantly continued. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I didn’t solve that one. That’s ... It can happen sometimes. It’s very ... very disappointing.” He looked down for a moment as if contemplating then continued. “Embarrassment leads me on to the stag night.”

A/N: So sorry this is so late! I haven’t forgotten about this series, I promise! I just moved into a new apartment in college and it’s already been nuts!

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