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subliminalbointext · 1 year

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Classified Information: The Prophet

The following documents were retrieved from the Carpenter State Digital Library Initiative Private Server. Access to this server is limited to authorized faculty and administration only. Access of this server by non-authorized personnel will be punished by penalty of law.

From the Audio Logs of Ada George

Adjunct Lecturer of Anthropology, Carpenter State University

Retrieved from Krasnoyarsk Krai, Russia

Transcribed by Bailey C. DuBois for the Carpenter State Digital Library Initiative 01/07/2020

Our plane landed in Siberia two days ago and though I hoped to spend my time in the city prepping our strategy, I’ve spent more of it acclimating my body to the time change. The team was ready to move out this morning, but I talked them into an extra day in the city. The truth is I haven’t been this nervous about a research project since my dissertation. The months I spent lobbying the anthropology department to back me…I can’t go back to Romero empty handed.

I’ll admit I have my doubts about what’s going on at the impact site. It’s not completely uncommon for communication to break down between universities and their researchers abroad, especially when their funding is so tenuous. I know I’m taking my career into my own hands chasing rumors like this, but it’s the only chance I have at tenure. How many researchers get an opportunity to study a culture that has completely materialized overnight? Fuck, those rumors better be true.

Oh hell, what am I even saying? Take a deep breath and edit this part out, Ada.

Accompanying me is my research assistant, Debbie Hightower, and cameraman Joey May. Debbie is one of our brightest rising stars in the department, focusing on forensic anthropology. She jumped at the opportunity for some hands-on experience and I believe she’ll be a great asset in my studies. Joey is a film studies major whose interest is more in shooting the Russian landscape, but he’s already shot a couple of projects as a freelance cameraman for the department and he’s one of the best around.

Our goal is to move to the impact site first thing tomorrow morning. I’m optimistic that all of the jitters will have worked themselves out by then.

From the Carpenter Foghorn Vol. 33, Issue 9

Archived by Damon R. Vasquez 09/21/2018

Bizarre Rumors Surround Disappearance of Tunguska Research Team

By David S. Stone

Despite an organized effort from Carpenter State administration, details continue to surface from CSU’s ill-fated study of a Siberian impact crater. The research team, which consisted of ten geology fellows led by Dr. Nick Barone, ceased communications with the university in late June after days of erratic messages from Dr. Barone. Officials from the Department of Earth Sciences have declined to share details of Barone’s final messages, though anonymous sources familiar with the communications allege that the messages contained “cult-like rhetoric” and “apocalyptic musings.” Though the university officially maintains that no communication has been made with the team since June, the Foghorn has been notified of the existence of a recent video from Dr. Barone that our source describes as a manifesto.

“Barone speaks for the team when he lays out a vision of the end of days,” they state. “The video is lewd, but shockingly cogent. On the other hand, it’s so-off base from the soil samples they were sent to collect, I can’t imagine what they’ve discovered in that forest.”

When asked to elaborate on the word “lewd,” the source added, “No comment.”

From the Audio Logs of Ada George, Cont.

Day 1

This morning was my first in Siberia where I didn’t wake up feeling like I’d been hit by a train. I celebrated this intercontinental victory by treating myself to breakfast at the coffee shop across from our hotel. The barista shared with me a few stories of Dr. Barone, who seems to be something of a local boogeyman. To her knowledge, he runs a commune near the impact crater where they worship the meteorite. She described them as “real earthly, nudist types.” Though the commune was humorous for a while, it grew creepy as members of the commune, calling themselves acolytes, returned to the city to evangelize. Those who followed the acolytes back to the impact site have never returned.

After breakfast we boarded a small bus and began the long trek into the wild. By noon we were nearing the impact site, but our driver, weary of the rumors surrounding the commune, wouldn’t take us into Dr. Barone’s makeshift village.

As we continue on foot, my mind is racing with probabilities. People don’t just transform from men who stare at rocks into cult leaders overnight. Whatever has afflicted Dr. Barone, it seems to be a possible case of mass psychosis like the dancing plague of 14th century Europe.

Day 2

I was nervous to see how my colleagues would react to their first contact with fellow researchers in over a year, especially dropping in unannounced. There’s a definite wariness among the research team, but they have accepted us on the basis of scholarly respect, I suppose a kind of probational research offer. It didn’t come without conditions.

I have not yet been granted access to Dr. Barone. He lives atop a high ridge overlooking the impact crater in his own makeshift hut, the largest in the village. All the reports of the commune being nudists are true—walking into the village I was greeted by a number of smiling faces and exposed genitalia. The men and women are equal in their nudity here. Untrimmed and natural as Dr. Barone commands it.

The ten researchers from the original crew are all accounted for: Tony Lewis, Steve Barowski, Abigal Fine, Holly Fine, Tommy Tucker, Andrew Holmes, Jasmine Parks, Ava Katzenberg, Dominic Polanski, and Justin Sinclair. Among the original ten researchers are twelve more acolytes recruited from the city. There appears to be a clear structure of power between the original ten and the new acolytes. They remain silent in the company of myself and my team.

The Carpenter Sate ten made it clear to us that Barone will not accept a meeting on camera, and there will be no meetings whatsoever until we’ve accepted his terms. They are as follows: We must abide by the dress codes of the colony, we must be willing to listen to Dr. Barone’s testimony, and finally we must submit to worship at the center of the impact crater.

I am prepared to meet all of these conditions, but Debbie and Joey are hesitant, especially in regards to the first one. This may hurt our ability to connect with the commune, but I’m optimistic that in the next few days I can convince my team to agree to their conditions.

Day 3

Still no sign of Barone. Tony has emerged as the doctor’s mouthpiece while the Fine sisters have the most access to him. He often requests their company in his bedchambers which they eagerly agree to.

Tony has granted us permission to observe their daily rituals but, outside of voice recordings, requested that we refrain from filming. There was a testy exchange between Tony and Joey, who felt that his presence in the commune without his camera was irrelevant. I don’t disagree with Joey, but we’re treading on thin ice as it is.

While Joey tests the patience of the men in the commune, Debbie is building relationships with the women. She’s gathered some fascinating information about the local economy. We’ve learned that the trips into town that I heard about in the city are monthly, and are as much about subsistence as they are growing the commune. Only the women travel, and it is the only time they are allowed to be clothed. They take with them small shards of meteorite that they offer to people along with their testimonies. They return with food, supplies, and new recruits. It’s never a lot, but it’s enough to supplement what they can’t get from the natural resources in the forest.

Day 4

There was an altercation last night as Tony and Dominic stormed into our tent and dragged Joey out into the night. I chased after the pair, but Andrew was on me before I could step through the tent’s flap, assuring me that Joey would be taken care of. I could hear Debbie scream from another tent outside.

I felt powerless as Andrew held me down, his limp penis pressing inadvertently against the crotch of my sweatpants. Trying to diffuse the situation, I asked Andrew where they had taken Joey. He told me that they were taking him to the crater.

His grip eased and he slid away from me, apologizing for the force. I sensed a gentleness in Andrew that didn’t seem to exist in Tony and Dominic.

A few hours later, Dominic returned to the tent to smash Joey’s camera.

From the Carpenter Foghorn Vol. 32, Issue 8

Archived by Gabrielle T. Peerman 04/02/2018

Frustrations Mounting in Siberia Among Research Team

By Sherry P. Morris

What began as a two month grant, has extended into April and bloated well over budget. Carpenter State officials have grown impatient with Dr. Barone’s study of the meteorite impact crater in Siberia and issued ultimatums to his team: return home, or be forced to.

When asked for comment, Dr. Barone replied via Skype, “They just don’t understand what we’ve seen here. There’s so much more to study than we could have imagined.”

One Carpenter State Official rebutted, “The grant’s conditions are clear. If Dr. Barone wishes to spend more time with his meteorite, he can do it on his with his own time and money. But for now he’s wasting our resources on what has become a personal obsession.”

“I just need more time,” Dr. Barone said.

From the Audio Logs of Ada George, Cont.

Day 5

They’ve done something to Joey. In the morning I found him in the center of the village, naked and joining in their daily worship around the communal fire pit. I tried to pull him aside, but his vacant expression told me everything I needed to know. He was under an order of silence, like the other recent converts.

Debbie, too, appears to have had a change of heart over the course of the night. I found her barefoot in the communal garden, tending to a crop of tomatoes. Her body was exposed, breasts bare in the cold morning air. She smiled and spoke to me, which was enough confirmation that they hadn’t done to her what they did to Joey. Not yet.

Debbie lodged with Jasmine and the Fine sisters last night. She and Jasmine shared a dorm building as freshman at CSU and she took that as an opportunity to learn more about the commune’s culture. When I asked Debbie what had changed her mind about the dress code, she shrugged and referenced the rules of cultural relativism. “We’ll never get anywhere unless we meet them at their cultural standards.”

My conversation with Debbie was a welcome rebound from last night’s stressors. I know that I haven’t handled this project as well as I could have. But Debbie has reminded me of the discipline, and I’m confident that tomorrow morning I’ll awake in the correct headspace to do some real research.

Everything will be better tomorrow.

Day 12

H-hello?

I can’t believe this thing is still working. Christ. I…I don’t know where to begin.

I can only estimate the day. It’s been so long since I last recorded anything, but I’ll try my best to fill in the gaps.

On the morning of day…it must have been day six? On that morning I awoke to find Debbie and Joey standing silent, like statues in my tent. They were naked, their bodies glistening as if covered in a thin coat of glaze. I called out to them but they didn’t speak.

And that’s when I saw him: Dr. Barone standing at the entrance of my tent.

I startled upward, and he ordered them to move. Like Tony and Dominic the night before, they were on me in a flash. They tore away at my pajamas, Debbie pulling my sweatpants down my legs and Joey ripping open by shirt to expose my naked breasts. They were silent as they worked, emotionless tools for Barone to wield.

When I was fully nude, Barone crouched over me and clenched his hand around my neck.

He said, “You will bear witness.”

I was thrown out of the tent onto the hard dirt outside. As I stumbled to my feet, I realized that every member of the commune had gathered outside. They began encircling me. Herding me, until I was pushed to the edge of the fire pit in the center of the village. I hadn’t realized how deep the pit was. It’s a hole at least ten feet down. They closed in on me, chanting now, words I couldn’t understand.

Suddenly he crowd parted like the red sea as Barone emerged stalking slowly, whispering in the same foreign language. He thrust his hand forward, pushing me into the muddy pit below.

I’ve been here ever since, toiling in this exposed prison. Each morning the commune surrounds me in worship. I haven’t seen Dr. Barone since that evening, but I’ve been assured that I will in time. Today Tony offered me my recorder. Barone wants me to document this. When they worship, they worship in that language that I can’t understand. I’ll try to get an audio sample next time.

I know Barone is waiting for something. Waiting for me to break like my colleagues. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

Day 15

This morning Debbie greeted me at the top of the pit with a smile. It’s the first I’ve heard her speak English since our talk in the garden. She told me that I’m ready for the next step, and that if I accept it, I can be freed from my prison.

She bent down at the edge of the pit and extended her hand down to me. In her palm was a small flake of meteorite. Like a shard of glass, but jet black. The shard is both cool and hot to the touch, a sensation I can’t quite comprehend or describe. Balling my fist around it, I swear I could hear voices whispering that odd language.

Debbie’s visit left me feeling optimistic for the first time in days. She is so much more rational than the woman I’ve seen contorting her naked body above me during worship. I know that my friends and colleagues are still with me, and I believe I will get out of this unscathed.

Day 16

I recognize now that this was never a fire pit, but more like a jail where they punish nonbelievers. Since my imprisonment I’ve watched their service every day with disdain as they dance and whoop and holler around me. But this morning, something was different. With the meteorite buzzing in my hand, reacting to the sounds of their odd tongue. I felt…fuck. I feel so aroused.

I want to join them. I want to be free in the wind like Debbie. Help. Somebody please, fucking help me before I lose my goddamn mind.

From the Carpenter Foghorn Vol. 32, Issue 1

Archived by Gabrielle T. Peerman 01/30/2018

Carpenter State Research Team Sets Course for Siberia

By Sherry P. Morris

If you’ve taken a class in the College of Earth Sciences, you likely recognize Dr. Nick Barone, Carpenter State’s celebrated professor of geology. With his jet black hair and thick, horn-rimmed glasses, he looks more like a young George Lucas directing the first Star Wars than a professor leading a team of geologists to study meteorites. Dr. Barone has always been popular among students thanks to his passion for the subject and his storytelling style of teaching. It is no coincidence that Nick, likely the most charismatic face in Earth Sciences on the northwest coast, has made his share of appearances on National Geographic documentaries.

This weekend, Dr. Barone will set off for Siberia where he and his team will research soil deposits around the impact crater in Krasnoyarsk Krai. “This has really been a passion project of mine for some time.” Dr. Barone says. “When I first heard news of the impact, I knew that it was an opportunity I may never get again. How often do you hear of a repeat impact?”

Dr. Barone refers, of course, to the Tunguska event—a massive explosion near the Tunguska River in Siberia in 1908 that leveled hundreds of square miles of forest. Though a meteor has never been proven to be the source of the explosion, it has long been maintained as the most plausible explanation.

One year ago, a confirmed meteorite crashed in that same region, leaving less significant damage, but a golden opportunity for Dr. Barone and his team.

“It may be the most significant research ever conducted by the College of Earth and Sciences,” Dr. Barone beams.

The following is an excerpt from the audio logs of Ada George, Adjunct Lecturer of Anthropology, with the additional voice of Dr. Nicholas Barone, Professor of Geology, Carpenter State University. Speakers are notated appropriately.

Transcribed by Bailey C. DuBois for the Carpenter State Digital Library Initiative 01/07/2020

Day 21

DR. BARONE: The world is a body, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes.

DR. BARONE: Humans are an abscess about to burst, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes.

DR. BARONE: These are the final days, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes.

DR. BARONE: This is the voice of Dr. Nicholas Barone. I have allowed my subject the resources she needs to communicate my testimony as all other attempts to reach my former colleagues has failed, likely the result of meddling from the Carpenter State administration. The voice you hear on this recording with me is your colleague, Ada George, who today traveled to the center of the crater, and was reawakened. She will not be returning to her position, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes.

DR. BARONE: Ada has undergone the same physical and spiritual conversion that the rest of my people have. That I myself did. We are enlightened to the truth of the world. I came here to study minerals in a meteorite blast site, but what I found was the gift of sight. The world must know what has happened here, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes.

DR. BARONE: My intention was no to hold any of your colleagues hostage, rather, to send a message that cannot be ignored. I have had a thousand visions of the world’s end, and there is only one solution: a return to our primal state of being. It is the only way to survive the coming calamity. Ada bears witness to this vision, and she can testify to it.

GEORGE: I have looked into the soul of the crater and seen the end. I accept my fate as the earth’s protector. I must return to the primal ways as my prophet envisions.

DR. BARONE: This is the only way, would you agree?

GEORGE: Yes, my prophet.

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ktheist · 4 years

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06 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.8k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“friends?”

“i’m still mad at you.”

kim taehyung looks at you like a teacher would to a student that he suspects would likely cheat on a test after said test.

“what?” you ask, lifting up one of the topmost boxes in the storage room and placing it down gently to sift through the contents in the box below it.

“nothing,” he shrugs, his breath disappearing into the cold air.

“okay, then come and help me look for the angel,” you’re in your family’s storage room after you’ve returned to the kim’s living room after you broke apart from the hug at the sound of feet padding down the hallway.

it was, unsurprisingly, taehyung who came to check up on you and see if seokjin needed ‘help’ treating a tiny cut.

to which seokjin brandished the most innocent smile and answered, “nah, we’re good. we’re almost done here.”

feelin your guilt eat up, you offered to look for your family angel, apologizing profusely, “i’m sorry i ruined christmas, i think we have an angel from last year’s decorations in the storage room.”

“oh honey, ruining christmas is a bit of a stretch,” mrs. kim laughed warmly, “but if you want to, bring one of these lazy bums with you.”

and that’s how kim taehyung and kim seokjin ended up butting heads and almost fighting about who gets to escort you out of the kim manor and into ___’s house which is just next door to look for said angel.

“since you’re the head chef, jinnie, i think taehyung should go with ___,” mina interjected with that prim, innocent smile.

you almost wrapped your arms around seokjin possessively and declared that you didn’t care if he was in charge of christmas eve’s meal - and that you wanted him to come with you.

“you know, you’ve been glaring at mina since she got here,” taehyung’s voice pulls you out of your ocean of thoughts.

“yeah? what about it?” you roll your eyes, placing another box on the ground to look through the one underneath it.

“would it hurt to be nice? she lost her parents last year,” he’s still leaning against the doorway like he doesn’t see you huffing and puffing trying to get move the boxes around.

yoo mina’s state of living alone and inevitable possibility of celebrating christmas alone this year is what made mr. and mrs. kim invite her over for christmas eve. and since everyone knew everyone in this neighborhood, none of them would expect either of you to treat her any less than family.

“oh gee, i don’t know, if she’d stop eye-fucking seokjin, i’d very much appreciate it,” you don’t mean to, but taehyung flinches from your glare.

“are you seriously jealous?” the glint of gold and red in the third box you’re sifting through catches your eyes.

found that christmas ornament box.

“are you seriously jealous?” a high pitched imitation leaves your lips as you pull out the porcelain angel, holding it with your uninjured hands, “i’m not jealous, you prick. get out of the way,” you push past the boy and march over to the kim’s without even looking back.

“oh my god, seokjin, this tastes so good!” mina’s voice rings from the kitchen all the way to the door as you push off your shoes and march over to the half-done decorated christmas tree.

“really? gosh, i’m so relieved. you don’t know how many times i almost burned our kitchen in seoul for this,” seokjin laughs.

“you? burning kitchens? highly dubious. you’re one of the best cooks i know.” mina remarks, her ear-to-ear grin makes her look like a monkey.

“you kids are so cute,” mrs. kim chirps, “mina, do you have a boyfriend? forget boyfriend, seokjin here makes a great husband, don’t you think?”

you let out a frustrated huff as you set up the ladder leaned up against the wall that taehyung used even though he didn’t need a ladder to reach the top. well, that was before you broke the angel. you set up the ladder as close to the tree as you can.

“o-oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” your back’s on her but you can practically hear her blushing.

“hey, do you mind if i did that? not that i’m unconvinced of your expertise to put the angel on the tree but let’s just be safe after... what happened,” a familiar velvet-like voice murmurs from next to you, a warm hand covering yours that’s holding the angel.

“i thought...” you steal a glance over the dark haired girl and mrs. kim at the counter and back at the smiling seokjin.

well, he’s here and not there.

you hop off the ladder and stand on your tippy toes before placing a kiss on his cheek, “thanks.”

“if i knew i would get a reward, i would’ve offered to help more often,” hymn trickles out of seokjin’s mouth as he chuckles, easily climbing the ladder and placing the angel on top of the tree with your commentaries of moving it “slightly to the left” and “okay, but slightly but not too much to the right.”

“okay, perfect,” you clap in satisfaction, stepping closer to the man and offering your hand, “what? men need help getting off from high places too,” you grin.

“if you insist,” he returns your grin with his own, his hand swallowing yours like it could break it with one squeeze and yet his touch is as light as a feather as he hops off the last step of the ladder.

the lights come to live around the tree like fairy dust as the gold and red baubles glints and winks at the twined hands in between you and seokjin whilst mrs and mr kim stands a few feet away, the middle aged woman’s head leaned against her husband’s shoulder. you can distinctly make out the outlines of her smile.

it looks like namjoon’s when you turn around to walk back to the kitchen for a drink, the man sitting down on the sofa a few feet away from the tree where you were standing, granting him a full view of how tightly but tenderly seokjin’s hand was gripping yours.

“hey,” is the first thing you say to the middle child when you manage to catch him watching some christmas movie on the tv.

“hey,” he shoots you a knowing smile before reverting his eyes on the screen.

for the longest moment, you stay there, letting the sound of the actors and actresses fill the room whilst the better cooks among all of you which are mrs. kim, mina and seokjin chatter along in the kitchen, waiting for the meals to cook.

“i knew,” he says ever so calmly, the only reason you knew you heard is because he’s looking at you, “i knew about you two -seokjin and taehyung got into a fight because taehyung deleted your number from seokjin’s phone - i think he made seokjin’s account block you on all social media but i gather everything’s alright now because you two made up?”

“yeah...” you trail off in an attempt to laugh it off but failing miserably, hugging your knees to your chest to make yourself smaller, “no, we decided not to do this.”

namjoon’s looks at you like he didn’t see that coming but nods anyway.

“what?” you ask.

“nothing...” he shrugs, “just that it didn’t look like seokjin was going to give up on you even if it meant never talking to taehyung ever again...”

“they didn’t really fight, did they?” you feel your eyebrows knitting together.

“no, but they would’ve if i hadn’t been the voice of reason,” a well-deserved tinge of proudness wrapped around his voice as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding but before you can even say anything, taehyung’s calling out to you from the front door, all dressed in his jacket.

you don’t even have to ask why. standing up and picking up your own jacket, you follow him outside.

so it goes, you walking down the neighborhood with a gap you didn’t know could exist in between you after all those years. and the snowflakes fluttering down and settling on top taehyung’s deep brown tresses.

“sorry, i was being pretty annoying, wasn’t i?” he suddenly says.

and you shrug.

“it’s cool, i was being annoying too anyway.”

“you and seokjin... you looked good together,” he announces in the air. breath coming out in puffs.

you find yourselves in the abandoned park you used to play at as kids. taehyung leans against one side of the monkey bar and you on the other.

his hands are buried in his pockets - as if he went out with the sole thought of this talk and complete disregard for dressing warm.

well, so did you.

you’re freezing in just your jacket. the muffler around your neck isn’t doing anything.

“where did that come from?” you pretend to look up at the sunless sky but your heart’s already thumping uncontrollably in your chest.

is this really happening?

it would seriously blow if it was all just a dream.

“just things that i notice... you're acting like a jealous girlfriend and he looks like he’s enjoying it. you should be together,” taehyung shrugs, as if he didn’t just threatened a lifetime’s worth of friendship when he found out about you and seokjin.

somehow, you hear the crunch of the snow under your feet. the rush of the blood in your ears.

it feels like taehyung’s words just light up a fire to an ocean full of oil spill.

“just like that?” you breathe out in disbelief, “you think i’m just gonna say thank you after you literally forced me to choose you and then after i did, you’re going to say i proved myself and passed the test? after all the shit you spouted? i might be messed up but you’re selfish as fuck, taehyung.”

“i know,” instead of the flames you thought would burn in his eyes, taehyung’s replies seems too unrealistic. resigned.

“i hate you.” you say bluntly.

“as you should,” comes his response.

“literally?” you sigh. half-humored and half-vindictive.

“you can slap me-”

almost as though your motor senses got triggered by that single word, your hand goes flying to his face.

the sound of skin smacking against skin rings in the air for a good few seconds even after the deed’s been done.

“ouch!” you scream, gripping the hand that you used to bitch slap taehyung because it happens to also be the hand which finger you cut on the angel shard and boy, did the slap sting.

“ow! why’d you slap me?” taehyung blinks several times, jaw hitting the ground.

“wha- you told me to!” you almost scream in his face, mainly because of the searing pain spreading across your palm.

“you didn’t even wait for me to finish! i was saying, you can slap me but i think it’s enough karma that i had to hear you have sex over the phone with my brother three weeks ago and that’s why i’m saying you’re gonna see each other behind my back anyway so stop hiding your relationship-”

another smack lands on his face.

“you ass, what do you take me for? a liar? we’re not seeing each other. that was the last time... ow!” as if the last second was up, you finally explode.

and it just so happens that you used the same bandaged hand to smack him.

for someone who’s supposedly asking for forgiveness, taehyung has the gall to scrunch his nose as though in pain himself at the sight of your agony.

“shit. that’s gotta hurt like a bitch.” this time, he sounds more like him.

rude. unbothered. insensitive.

but so very taehyung.

he also has a hand clasped against the reddening cheek that probably will start forming a map of your palm on it soon.

“ya think?” you spit out, glaring.

taehyung simply shrugs before stretching open his free arm, “friends?”

“i’m still mad at you,” you declare before the snow scrunches under your boots as you close the distance and engulf him in a big hug.

you stay like that for barely even a minute when your body starts to stiffen and your gut starts threatening to hurl out its contents at realization that you’re actually holding each other in your arms.

“okay, dweeb, let me go.” taehyung announces, you bet his hand’s twitching to shove your face away from his chest but he’s nice enough to wait until you release your hold and step back.

“yeah okay, good talk,” you dust whatever taehyung gave you off your shoulders.

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii

#bts fics #bts fic #bts smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfic #seokjin fics #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #seokjin x you #bts imagines #seokjin imagines

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shianhygge-imagines · 4 years

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Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] [V/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The Mortal Half

AN: I apologize for the wait! The road of life took a bit of a wild turn, and my writing (along with a few other things) suffered for it.

On another note... anyone as excited for DMC5: Special Edition as I am :D

This chapter is a long one that I wanted to write and post as soon as possible (I was tempted to wait until all chapters of Visions of V were out). I will probably come back to re-explore V’s character at a later time because damn it, Visions of V really kicked my ass with the character development.

WARNING: As I have mentioned in a separate post, there is a section of smut in here. This is actually the first full smut scene I’ve ever written, so please excuse the awkwardness... and the kinks... and if it sucks.

So, yeah. It’s now a Vergil/Reader as well as a V/Reader story. Cheers!

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link| |First Chapter| |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

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4th May 01:40pm

When you woke the next morning, Shadow was still curled into your side, its eyes closed and seemingly content despite the afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows. Though you’d slept peacefully through the rest of the night, it was rather strange having another presence in the same bed as you. After all, you hadn’t shared your bed with another individual since Vergil had started leaving on his alarmingly frequent trips away from your home in Red Grave City. And although it had been years since you visited that place, the mere thought of those nights brought a frown to your previously content face. Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, you mentally gave the box of memories a rough shove away.

It’s best not to dwell on unpleasant thing, Y/N. You muse to yourself with the slightest tensing of your body.

Sensing your change in mood, Shadow shifted to rest a lightly dozing head on your stomach, cracking a single ruby eye open to check on you as a purr rumbles throughout its body in an effort to calm you.

Running a hand through the shadow panther’s silky ‘fur’, you hummed absentmindedly in response. “Just unpleasant memories, Shadow.” When the remnant of your husband’s memories merely huffs in a feline scoff, you turn to cuddle into the Nightmare demon. “I am 100% sure that V didn’t tell me the truth last night… but if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, prying is generally not the correct course to take to learn the whole truth. Still though,” you sigh wistfully, “My life has been so chaotic and cryptic that there are times where I wish that I was born a normal girl.”

Although you wished to say more, your lips clam up the moment that you hear a knock at the door. “Y/N? It’s nearly 2pm. Are you awake, yet?”

You share a look with Shadow, “Well, speak of the devil, I guess.” You don’t bother moving as you call out to the moral man, “You can come in, V. I’m awake, but I sure as hell ain’t getting out of bed yet.” Even though you say this, you lift your head to peer over Shadow’s dark body as V enters the room with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you have any intention of leaving your bed, Y/N? It’s well into the afternoon.” V inquires with a furrowed brow as he closes the door and continues forward to the side of the bed with a limp.

“Oh…. Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You remark cheerfully, settling back down into the sheets as you pet Shadow. “I don’t think I will any time soon, no.”

Unsure as to how to proceed with your blatant denial to rise from bed, V gestures towards the edge of your king sized bed. “May I have a seat?”

“Knock yourself out, V. This bed is too big anyways, so… ‘free real estate’ I guess.” You found yourself repeating the meme that a group of orphans in Fortuna City had taken the time to teach you… though you were unsure if you had used the meme in the proper context.

Your eyes shifted to meet V’s green once you felt the edge of the bed dip to your left. In the daylight, with the sun’s rays pouring into the room, V seemed… sickly. It was worrying how skinny and pale he was despite the hint of power you could feel in him. If it weren’t for his contract with Vergil’s remnants, you would not have any confidence in V’s ability to defend himself should you all take on Urizen. And once Vergil had been defeated again (though you found yourself in pain just thinking about killing your beloved), would the powers disappear and leave the young man before you weak and on the verge of collapse?

“There’s no need to worry, Y/N.” V’s gaze is almost gentle as he reassures you, “I promise that I’ll not suddenly collapse.” Not realizing that you had been staring, you blinked your eyes and mumbled an apology. “No, don’t apologize. It is only natural to doubt my abilities when I look like this.” The young man gestures towards his weakened body with a carefully bitter expression that would stick with you for days to come. “My powers are limited, which is why it is absolutely imperative that we stop Urizen before he grows too powerful.” When you don’t respond, trying to find a way to comment without offending him, V took it as a sign of sadness. “I couldn’t help but overhear you before I entered. That you wished that you were born to a normal life.”

Your face scrunches up as you force yourself to sit, “If I’m being perfectly honest, V… I don’t really know you well enough to pour my heart and soul out.”

V’s smile remains slightly bitter even as he pulls out the anthology of William Blake poems and hands it over to you. “Fair enough, Ms. Y/N. By all means, save your words. I only ask that you listen to what I have learned about you and your past.” When you reluctantly take a hold of the tome, V gestures towards it, “The note written on the back cover of that volume seems to imply that the person who gifted it to you was rather fond of you.”

The book’s cover was immaculate, but upon closer inspection, you noticed that the pages have yellowed from its age. Brows scrunched and curious, you immediately flipped to the back cover and withheld a gasp at the painfully familiar handwriting scrawled along the back cover.

To my beautiful silver rose,

Perhaps it is just the slightest bit vain that I gift this book to you. After all, an exact copy of this anthology sits on my book shelf in the study. But I noticed that you’ve taken a deeper interest in these old poems as of late, so I sought out a copy for yourself. Please do not think I turn a blind eye to your sadness when I am away, Y/N. I do my best to comfort you while I have you in my arms, but I must see my goals through. When I am gone, please read these poems and think of me. Just as I will think of you.

Rest assured that no matter how far I travel, Y/N, that I will always find my way back to you.

Your loving husband,

Vergil Sparda

“You were in that place, weren’t you?” You asked V as your fingers traced the note written into the cover. “There is no way you’d have this particular volume if you hadn’t been.”

V nodded, his eyes carefully watching as you caressed the book. “When I found Vergil’s remnants, they had been drawn to that book which had been left in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“I left it there when Vergil embarked on his quest through Hell.” You admitted, melancholic. “The book had been a constant reminder of an empty promise, so I tried to bury my past. Obviously it didn’t work, but I left the book in Vergil’s childhood room regardless.”

“Why the book?” V wondered, “Aside from the note in the back, the tome seems ordinary.”

Handing the book back to the younger man, you merely smiled a tame smile, “It was a symbol of hope that I didn’t want, as well as a constant reminder that the man I love abandoned me in favor of demonic power.” Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a robe and ventured into the bathroom, only a final statement leaving your lips before the door shut behind you, “And nothing’s worse than to be reminded that I wasn’t enough.”

22nd May 11:32am

You’re not sure if you should be worried or relieved by how easy it was to trail V through the city wreckage as you sprinted and jumped from one roof to another. The mysterious young man traversed the streets below with his Nightmare demons protecting him as low leveled demons appeared along the path. Over the course of the past few days, you and V had taken shelter within your home in Red Grave City. Although there were times where you interacted, V regularly ventured out into the city on patrols and supply runs, seemingly under the impression that you were still injured from the encounter with Urizen at the heart of the Qliphoth Tree. More often than not, V would leave in the afternoons and return in the morning.

Although you were touched by his care for your well-being, you still couldn’t but feel distrustful and suspicious of V. The names of his demon contracts… Hence your current trailing… and as it turns out, his actual hair color is white.

With how many demons there were roaming the streets, you were surprised that V had lasted this long. Though, from your spot seated on the roof above the corner where V fought to protect a small group of surviving humans, you could tell that the younger man was becoming weaker the more he used his abilities. You would jump down and aid him if he needed it, but only if he needed it.

Your initial assessment of V was that he didn’t care for humans in the slightest after watching him walk fast the human corpses without a care. The way the younger looking man had gazed upon the carnage with indifference… you remembered shivering and thinking that there was no way he was completely human. Though, after that night, you were pleased to learn that V had quickly taken up the role as protector while the humans evacuated.

Your attention drifted back into the present when V slumped over below you, exhausted as he sat upon a pile of demon corpses. The humans that he had protected were cowering against the wall opposite of V, and you frowned when none rose to offer aid to the sickly man, who had begun to pale more than he normally did.

You heard V heave a tired sigh as he asked Griffon a question, “How many days has it been?”

The demon summon flapped its wings and hovered above his master, “Three.”

V slumped over, curling in upon himself, his dark hair hanging to cover his face. “I’m not sure that I can even last a month.” Your frown deepened at that comment. That’s news to me… shit. Now I feel bad for not helping him. You rose from your seated position and removed your eyes from V to sweep the area with a vigilant gaze.

“You’re just going willy-nilly, spending all your strength like that.” Griffon squawked mockingly, “Nicely done, buddy. If you continue like this, you’re gonna croak before the kid even returns.”

So, V’s dying? You wondered, Who is he? What’s his deal? How is he involved in this mess to begin with? Your gaze also darkens when the humans call V and Griffon monsters. We have to protect humanity, yes. But this is one of those times where I understand Vergil’s distaste for humanity. Then again… nothing is perfect.

Your eyes sweep briefly back down to make sure that V was in the clear while searching for food just as you felt several demonic presences appear behind you. Stepping away from the ledge, you nodded and unsheathed the Totsuka just as several Hell Bats and a Lusachia attempt to ambush you.

Your steps are quiet as you slide under several fireballs and sprint across the rooftop to a less narrow roof. “Okay, folks. I’m going to have to ask you to be as quiet as possible during this entire transaction we got going here.” You chirp with a smirk, voice carefully lowered to just below your normal speaking voice. “I don’t want my friend knowing that I’m spying on him. Heh.” As expected, none of the demons respond, opting to rush you with fireballs and incantations.

Your feet are moving before your brain catches up with the attacks, running in wide arcs and tight turns to avoid the incoming fireballs and incantation circle. “Sorry, what was that?” Your grin is feral as you push off from the rooftop in a wide swipe at the Lusachia, striking it with a shallow cut before kicking off of it in a backflip, free hand pulling out your Silver Rose to shoot it in the face a few times. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying!” As you stick the landing, you shoot it once more before raising the same hand to your ears, “You’re gonna have to speak louder!”

Of course the Lusachia can only groan as it falls, dying from the wounds you’ve inflicted upon it. Around you, the Hell Bats screech and rush, swooping down in lines of fire as you duck and dodge. “No, no! I wasn’t talking to you guys! You’re a bit too loud, so imma have to ask you to shut up!” Just as two Hell Bats swoop down to attack you from both sides, you holster the Silver Rose and Totsuka, getting into a wide stance. When the bats are close enough, you unsheathe the Totsuka in a single movement, cutting down the demons before they could even touch you.

The remaining Hell Bat screeches and flies back towards the grocery store’s roof, but you only grin and follow, Totsuka sheathed once more. “No, no! I’m gonna getcha!”

You are probably a step away from killing the bat yourself, when you notice a giant meteor suddenly appear in the sky above you. “Ah! Nope!” You are just in time to kick off the grocery store roof and flip to safety when Nightmare crashes into the grocery store, completely decimating the building. Wincing at the loss of the area’s last remaining food source, you crouch down upon the ledge of another roof and scan over the wreckage below. “…that was overkill.”

It seems… from how loudly Griffon was protesting, that it agreed with your assessment. “You’re killin’ me here, V! Didja really have to take it that far? You could’ve just-oh, I don’t even know where to begin!”

You watch as a boy and his mother walk out of the wrecked grocery store before jumping down from the rooftop, casually strolling over to where V and Griffon continued to converse. You were about to speak when V crouched down and suddenly took a bite out of a demon’s carcass.

The only thing you could do at seeing the younger man eat the demon meat was dry heave loudly.

Both V and Griffon freeze before turning their heads to look at you. “Aw shit!” Griffon curses, “It’s the Lady Sparda!”

You hold back the gag threatening to escape as you approach the two, eyes trained on the blood staining V’s mouth. There’s unfiltered horror on V’s face even as you crouch down and wipe away the blood with a handkerchief. “Raw demon meant cannot be good for you.” The horror softens when you sigh and offer V a hand, “Come on. I still have canned food in the pantry back home. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You don’t see the grief and regret upon V’s face as you turn to lead him out of the wreckage, hand in hand.

~~~~~

V’s Point of View

V’s green eyes never leave your back the entire way back to the house that Vergil had bought you all those years ago. He is exhausted from overusing his abilities, his mind muddled and unfocused. V can tell that the silence bothers you. He’s known that the silence bothers you ever since you’d both fled from this very city when you were children. Still, the past few hours have rendered him too tired to speak. So the silence continues.

Even as you fix him a meal.

Even as you sit down with him to eat.

Even as you guide him to the bathroom.

Even as you place a set of his pajamas on the counter.

Even as you leave the bathroom with a comment that you’d be in the study.

Even in his mute state, V doesn’t fail to see the melancholy in your eyes.

As he undresses, leaving his demon blood soiled clothes in the sink, V laments his current situation.

The house that he’d bought for you is still very much the same as it was over twenty years ago. Aside from the changes in products and appliances on the inside, it is as he left it. There are signs that Y/N doesn’t live in the building as often as she should… canned and dried food products in the pantry… a fridge empty except for bottled water and frozen meals… untouched kitchen appliances… a vacuum that seemed to be over ten years old… dust gathering in the unused rooms where they had planned to put a baby crib… his old clothes packed into boxes and shoved into the very same dusty rooms…

When the overly large bathtub is filled with hot water, V forces himself into the separate shower to quickly rinse off the dried blood and grime coating his skin. In the back of his mind, he recalls a memory where you told him that it was gross to sit in filth when taking a bath. The memory brings a constricting feeling to his chest and he doesn’t care that he drips water everywhere as he leaves the shower in favor of the bathtub.

The soap used in the shower is the same scent you’ve always used. The brand has changed, but it seems that you haven’t. His chest constricts some more when he realizes that you haven’t changed much since the last he saw you aside from your overuse of snark and slang. Sinking into the hot water and wrapped in your scent, V laments that the melancholy in your eyes was nothing new. When he was Vergil… a young Vergil from over twenty years ago… the last year spent with you before Temen Ni Gru… there were times where he noticed your eyes fill with melancholy. V winces, visibly in pain as he forces himself to remember. Vergil had known you were sad and lonely… but he had chosen to ignore your pain.

And even now, when he was no longer that man, V continues to hurt you.

The mortal half slips under the water before he knew it, his mind running wild with reflection.

Strange.

I feel rather peculiar.

I’m scared because I am weak.

I’ve resorted to depending on others because I am afraid.

That is what the weak do.

I’m…

…ever since I got this body, all I’ve been doing are things that I don’t want to do.

All of my thoughts are things I don’t want to think about.

(Y/N. Mother. Dante.)

While I’ve always intended on reflecting on why I lost (to Dante… to Mundus),

The reality is, I’ve moved on a long time ago.

I always thought I could fill this emptiness with power.

Anything that I lacked could be compensated with raw power.

How ironic.

It was only after I was stripped of all my strength that I realized…

That it was always within reach.

Always.

Deep inside, the answer was always there.

~~~~~

Y/N’s Point of View

“V?” You knock on the door to the master bathroom after around ten minutes, intent on taking the man’s clothes in order to wash them. “V, I need your clothes so I can put them in the wash.” When there is no answer, you knock again, “V? If you don’t answer me, I’m just gonna come in.” Your brows furrow at the lack of answer. “… Well, I warned you. I’m coming in.”

There’s a distinct lack of sound inside the bathroom when you enter although the dirty clothes are in the sink, “Um… V?” Your gaze sweeps across the large bathroom to rest upon the filled bathtub, and you frown when you notice the bubbles rising from the middle of the large tub. Creeping closer, you can see V under the water, his gaze empty and melancholic. No more bubbles rise from his lips, and you suddenly realize that V might be too tired to notice that he was drowning.

You don’t notice the wet floor, and you don’t care that the man is completely nude. Something in you beckons you forward, and you practically sprint to climb into the bathtub, taking a firm hold of his torso and lifting V’s upper half out of the water.

V’s green eyes blink blearily as he stares into yours. “V?” You whisper, letting go of his torso once he’d sat up on his own. Your hands come up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

The man lets out a shaky breath and ducks his head, nodding. “I appreciate the sentiment, Y/N. But I wasn’t in any danger. You didn’t have to climb in to save me.”

“You weren’t breathing, V.” You deadpanned, bringing up a hand to flick his forehead. “Nobody’s dying in my house.”

The two of you are quiet for a few moments until V turns to look away from you. “As much as I am grateful for you kindness, I don’t want to imagine what your husband would do to me if he finds out that you bathed with another man.”

You flush a deep red when you notice the position you were in… straddling a completely nude V in the bathtub while you sit in a soaked white nightgown that was becoming see through. “I… uh…”

You’re at a loss for words and continue to be at a loss for words when V turns back to stare you down with darkened eyes. He scoots you closer, pressing you against his body as he teases lowly, “Unless… I entice you…?”

You swallow hard when you notice that something hard is pressed up against you.

~~~~~~

Third Person Omniscient Point of View

“I… don’t…” The water is starting to cool in the bathtub, sending chills up your body even as you flush from head to toe. The only source of warmth is from V, who holds you close, his green eyes gazing at you with a myriad of emotions… Lust… Affection… Loneliness… Guilt… Mischief… Love… It has been over twenty years since someone has made love to you, and for all your faith and devotion, you want to feel that intense pleasure… that warm intimacy once more. You know that a demonic Vergil has run rampant across your home city, that what remains of your husband’s humanity has bonded with the man before you… You know that something within you call for V and beckons you to continue… to give in.

The moment that you pulled V out of the water, soaked from head to toe with concern in you eyes, V knew that he could continue this charade with you. He’d been cruel to you for most of your life, and he couldn’t bear to be cruel for another minute. He wants you to know him completely once more. As Vergil as well as V. What he wanted and need this entire time had been something you’d been willing to give him from the beginning, and Vergil had been a fool to cast you aside. Yet, with you pressed so close to him, your scent invading his senses, all V can think about is his love for you. A love that had never died, just stubbornly ignored. He’d neglected you for over twenty years because of his mistake. And now, if you are willing, he would make love to you until that melancholy has been chased away.

You gasp when V presses his lips to the crook of your neck, whimpering as he simply brushes his lips over your skin in light caresses. The mortal half smirks against your skin and whispers to you in a low rumble. “I’ve slacked in my duties, Y/N.” His hands trail up your bare thighs resting on either side of his hips, bunching up the material as his hands rise sensually to rest upon your waist.

“W-what are you…saying?” It would be remiss of you to not notice the same phrase that Vergil used on the day he asked you to marry him. When did your breathing become heavy?

V’s lips trail upwards along the column of your throat achingly slow as he kisses teasingly along the way. His thumb traces gentle patterns on the skin of your waist even as he lifts you from his hips to place you close to the edge of the bathtub. He’s on all fours, knelt before you with his arms propped up on either side of your head as he continues the kiss until he’s at your ear. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” V growls as he gently nips your ear.

Shocked, you pull away to stare at the man. “V…” you plead, voice weak from arousal and heartbreak, “Please don’t play with my heart like this.”

The dark expression softens as V leans forward to press a loving kiss to your lips before pulling back. “I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Y/N. The greatest was leaving you in pursuit of power.” His green eyes are filled with guilt as he sighs miserably, “You were right. Power isn’t everything. And I was wrong to call you a burden all those years ago.” At the reminder, you flinch backwards, and suddenly it is no longer just guilt on V’s face, but self-loathing. “Because of me, we lost so much time. Over twenty years of sorrow and regrets, and I didn’t want this to be another regret.”

“So, you’re…”

“I am Vergil… but not quite.” V confirms, “I… made another mistake, and this is the result.”

V’s lip move to continue, but you quickly shut him up by pressing your lips firmly against his. Your arms are raised to drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss with a hungry moan. You part your lips before V can tease you, and heavy desire pools below when his tongue teases the roof of your mouth.

V’s hands find their way to the hem of your soaked nightgown, grasping the edges firmly and lifting when you separate briefly to assist him in undressing you. You hear your nightgown flop into the water as V tosses the article of clothing to the side, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You press yourself into V, hands rising to hold his face as your lips capture his once more. “Explanations can wait until tomorrow.” Your voice is thick with desire as you pull away just the slightest to leave the bathtub.

After casually slipping your soaked panties off, you turn back to V to beckon him after you. You can hear him leave the tub as you walk out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom.

(Smut Alert!!!)

You don’t make it to the bed before V catches up to you, his hand snatching yours and halting your progress forward. The air conditioning is on, and the cool breeze on your wet skin elicits a shiver through your body just as your nipples harden. Soon, your shivering is not from the cold air, but from the heat of having V’s naked body pressed into your back. His right arm moves to circle around your waist, pressing his palm flat against your pelvis while his left arm releases you in favor of cupping your left breast. You can feel him hard against the small of your back as V presses urgent kisses along your shoulder.

“Tell me, Y/N.” His voice is a husky growl between sensual kisses as his fingers tweak your nipple with a quick flick. “Did you ache for me while I was gone?” V’s right palm lowers to rest just over your mound drawing molten patterns just upwards of your clit. “Did you stay up touching yourself to thoughts of what I might do to you when I returned?”

You know your husband, and even if V wasn’t completely Vergil, the teasing was enough of a tell to know that he could play the long game. If you don’t answer. If you don’t let out the sinful sounds he’s looking for… V would refuse to continue. And after twenty plus years without, you didn’t want to wait another moment.

“Y-yes!” You moaned, body aching for more as your pussy gets wetter. “Every night that I’m alone.” The tortured whimper from your lips pleases V immensely as his hand dips lower to cup your sex, long fingers swiping just lightly before pulling away to show you just how wet you are.

“And when you thought of me during those nights, were you as soaked then as you are now?” His voice had been sinful as Vergil, but the deep airy whispers that V makes has you licking your lips in anticipation as his fingers play with your juices. V rests his chin upon your shoulder and brings his fingers up to his lips, “No, right?” You can’t reply, too entranced as he licks your juices off his fingers. “Hmmm.” He moans as you whimper, bringing his hand back down to rest exactly on your clit. “I want to taste more of you.” V growls, a finger toying with your clit while his remaining fingers dip into your slit, spreading your juices all over your lips.

Head tilted, you can only moan when V dips a long finger into your pussy before immediately pulling out. “V… please s-stop teasing me!” You beg, quivering as your hands raise to tug his arms close.

He hums and thrusts his hips into your back slightly, not enough for him to receive any pleasure from it, but enough so that you know how much harder he’s become. “Hmmm” V purrs into your ear, turning his hand so that it locks with yours, fingers intwined for just the moment, “Well, if that is what my love desires…” In a single fluid movement, he’d spun you around and gently guided you to rest upon your bed. “Then who am I to deny?”

Although sickly, you can’t help but salivate over how the black markings decorate his torso and arms. They trail in intricate patterns all over his torso and down to his pelvis, ending at… oh. Fuck. He’s longer than I expected. The part of him that stands at attention, partially curved up, draws your attention better than his beautiful green eyes and dark hair. You’re sure that V can hear how fast your heart is racing as he smirks, completely at ease as he saunters forward and crawls over you. There are whispers at the back of your mind telling you to touch him, but you only ignore them as V presses slow, open mouthed kisses along every inch of skin on his way up to your mouth.

He stops just shy of kissing your core, where an unbearable amount of heat has gathered.

He presses gentle, mournful kisses to the spot that Vergil and Urizen stabbed, his eyes briefly meeting yours with a silent plea for forgiveness.

He licks up the valley between your breasts, eyes closes as if he’s savoring the taste of your skin.

He issues a silent challenge by meeting your gaze as he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth while a hand plays with the other. You meet his gaze and stubbornly refuse to look away even as you feel his tongue flick and lap, even as the heat of his mouth becomes almost too much to bear.

When he finally makes his way to your mouth, V’s smiling, something that has always been rare even when he was Vergil. The slow kiss that follows is sweet and loving, but is interrupted as you gasp. V smirks smugly as his fingers circle your slit a few times before he presses a finger into you… then two. His green eyes watch you in adoration as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, taking in your moans as if it were the sweetest melody he’d ever heard.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips or that your legs spread to give V more space. You want more.

“V!” You whimper, even as he presses a third in. “P-please!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear you, continuing to finger fuck your pussy as his thumb plays with your swollen clit. It has been over twenty years since he’d had you beneath him. And with all the shit he’s pulled in the past, he wants you to cum at least once before he takes you.

After years without, you don’t last as long as you’d hoped. The rush of pleasure builds up faster than you expect. Your legs stiffen and your toes curl as the heat builds up to a climax, sending you over the edge of wild abandon and heavy breaths.

You come back from the haze to find V grinning triumphantly, licking your juices from his fingers once more. When scowl dangerously, V only continues to grin. It doesn’t take much more than a push to reverse your positions, but still V’s grin persists.

“Not satisfied, my love?”

“You know damn well that I’m not satisfied.” You mutter with a pout, throwing your legs over his hips so that you can press your soaked lips against his throbbing cock. Biting your lip, you stay still for a few moments as you look down at V, his dark hair sprawled upon the bed and lustful gaze staring up.

“And how would you have me repent, Y/N?” The words are out of his mouth before V realizes it.

You hum, tracing your fingers along the black lines adorning his chest before moving your hips to slid your pussy along his cock. “I want you to fuck me, V.” His body tenses when you continue to tease him, “I want you to fill me up. To make me cum so many times that I forget my name. To make me scream so loud from pleasure that fucking Urizen can hear it from his stupid demon tree.”

A growl is your only answer before V’s gaze darkens once more and you find yourself pressed into the bed, watching as V positions himself between your legs, lining himself up so that the head of his weeping cock is pressed to your opening.

“If Urizen hears the sounds of your pleasure, he might be compelled to take you as well.” He’s teasing you again.

“Urgh, V, jus-ah!” You’re interrupted when his hips snap forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt.

“I’ve never been one to share.” V gasps, holding onto your hips as he pulls away and snaps back.

All you can do is moan and move to meet his hips, lewd noises filling your quiet home as V sets a quick pace. After years of denying yourself the pleasures of the flesh, you can feel your cunt stretch around V. Already sensitive from your previous orgasm, it takes everything for you not to cum again just from being filled. Your soft moans and gasps of his name fuel V’s desire, and soon, as you cry for more, he sets a brutal pace, pounding into your pussy as your writhe beneath him.

His green eyes are wild as he pounds deep into your womb, something like determination in his eyes, “Y/N.” Your name is like a prayer upon his lips, “You asked me to fill you up.”

If it was possible, another jolt of pleasure shot through your body and straight to your core, and you found yourself tightening around him at what V was implying. “Yes.” You moan, throwing your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, “Yes, V! Fuck! I need you to cum in me!”

Unable to stop himself anymore, V let go of whatever control he had and thrust into you with wild abandon. He didn’t even know if he could impregnate you in his current state, and he knew that it was reckless to try, but fuck if he wasn’t going to try anyways. It was all you’d ever wanted with Vergil. A family. And if he could give you this, too…

God, you wanted to be filled. The thought of finally having a child leaves you wailing and on the edge of release. You could feel him throb as he abandoned rhythm, muttering ‘I love you’ as his body quaked with each thrust before abruptly stopping. The moment you feel his warmth spilling deep into you is when you finally allow yourself to fall over the edge with a wordless moan, pussy pulsing as you milk V of his release.

Coming down from the high, you find yourself entangled in V’s arms, the both of you breathing heavy as you both lay on the bed. Like all times before Vergil left, the two of you lay in silence, content with each other’s presence.

(Smut end… *fans self* as a side note, they absolutely cleaned up after an additional two rounds :P)

23rd May 09:32am

You woke up to the sounds of a struggle, bolting from the bed with light steps and snatching the Silver Rose from your nightstand. You heard something clank and clatter from within the bathroom just as you pressed yourself to the wall, gun raised as you peered into the room. What you saw in had you in a fit of laughter.

“Ahahahahaha! Oh my gosh! V!” Your finger leaves the trigger as you bend over with a laugh, , “I have a washer and dryer for a reason!”

V grumbled and flushed lightly as he wrestled his clean, but soaked pants from Griffon and Shadow. “…” The set of pajamas that you’d coaxed V into the previous night were thoroughly soaked through because he’d decided to hand wash and hand dry his only set of clothes.

“Guess we’ve been camping out too much, huh, buddy?” Griffon chirped after letting go of the black pants.

Shadow lets out a growl in warning, also letting go of the pants in favor of approaching you, rubbing its face against your side with a purred greeting. Though you raise a brow in question, you raise a hand to scratch behind the panther’s ears. “I have many questions, I’m not going to beat around the bush.”

V sighs and sets his clothes on the sink counter before walking towards to pull you into a loving embrace, “Let me change into some dry clothes, and we’ll talk over breakfast.”

His wet clothes feel cold against your nightgown, but you don’t mind, humming as you snuggle into V’s embrace.

15th June 06:00am

“Hurry up, Shakespeare! The Lady Sparda and I aren’t gonna wait for your slow ass all the time!” Griffon called back towards V from his perch on your right arm.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Griff. He’s trying his best.” You chide, turning to stare at V just as he closes the remaining few meters to stand at your side. The past month had been an ordeal, but here you were, about to meet up with your son to end this mess. Turning to V, you playfully nudge him, “Let’s go, V.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will definitely be writing more about Reader’s time with V as chapters of Visions of V release.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

PS. Hi, yes, Tumblr. Please don’t eat up my chapter again.（╹◡╹）THanks

242 notes · View notes

xjoonchildx · 5 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter one: ICN --> LAX

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, highly improbable condom placement, unrealistic use of available sex space, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

*************************

One day it works out too well, then the next day I’m completely screwed (I still) Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM? 25, I still don’t know how to live well So, today as well, we just go -- Airplane, Pt. 2 BTS

**************************

Jungkook Jeon is basically your Carmen Sandiego.

You stare down at the photocopy of the state of California driver’s license in your hand, into the face of the brash little fucker you’ve been chasing across the globe for the better part of a year.

He looks barely old enough to drive.

Of course, this picture was taken years ago when he was a sophomore at Stanford. Back before he dropped out of school despite being in the top of his class. Back before he broke the law by taking six million dollars of someone else’s money, then broke his parents’ hearts by disappearing without a trace.

You should already have him in custody — and If he were like any of the other greedy assholes you usually chase, he would be. But instead, Jungkook Jeon has managed to deflect and dodge and avoid you at every turn for months.

It’s driving you fucking insane.

One time, you’d been so certain about cornering him in Argentina that you’d boarded a plane with a pair of thick-necked US Marshals and flown south. You’d had to head back to the States empty-handed and sunburnt and pissed.

The real kicker was when you’d gotten home and opened a one-line email – encrypted to hell and back – with a picture of your FBI Academy graduation headshot attached.

you’re so hot i almost want to get caught. almost.

That had hurt.

So you’d had to lick your wounds, bide your time and wait for a man who apparently didn’t make mistakes to make a mistake. And for a while, he didn’t.

Until he did.

**************************************

Agent Kim Namjoon is definitely not the pencil pusher you imagined him to be during your many phone calls and other interactions.

No, the man who meets you and your team at Incheon International Airport is what the kids these days call a snack. He is tall and broad and wears a pair of dark thick-rimmed glasses that should make him look like a giant nerd but somehow don’t.

Very, very cute.

“Welcome to Korea,” he says with an easy smile. You smile back, then clear your throat and remind yourself you’re not here to flirt with your contact with Korea’s National Intelligence Service.

Seriously.

Agent Kim’s English is immaculate – this you already knew since you’ve exchanged more than a few calls in recent weeks. He’s got his own team ready for briefing at his headquarters. After a quick drive, you’re all in one room going over the plan.

His guys have tracked Jeon to a high-end restaurant in Seoul where he’s been working for a few months. They already have a rough sketch of the area. You’re going to block off every exit, cover every angle, and make sure there’s no way he’s getting out of that restaurant without coming through one of you.

This should go off without a hitch – but then you remember Argentina and frown.

“He’s there. My guys are ready to go,” Agent Kim says, after taking a quick call on his cell phone.

It’s decided, then.

You load into black vans and take off for the west end of the city. Agent Kim drives and you have the chance to look out the window at the streets. It’s a beautiful place, you think. Agent Kim seems to read your mind.

“You should come back sometime,” he says. “When you’re not here on business.”

Sigh. You’re going to have to flirt with this man, aren’t you?

“I would like that. Maybe you could show me around some time,” you reply.

His eyes stay on the road – his hands locked at 10 and 2 – but you see the ghost of a smile pass over his lips. You smile to yourself and look back out the window.

Minutes later you’re parked outside an industrial-looking brick building. Gleaming glass-and-stone condos and perfectly manicured greenscaping confirm you are in a high-dollar neighborhood. It’s a Saturday night in a ritzy part of Seoul and you’re probably about to ruin someone’s date night.

Or maybe rescue it, depending on the date.

You stare out at the restaurant and imagine Jungkook Jeon inside, going about his life without realizing you’re here to throw a wrench into all his plans. You get a little thrill when you imagine the look on his face when he realizes the gig is up. Victory is so close you can taste it.

Agent Kim gets a call from his point man, everyone is in place.

Showtime.

******************************

“Is that consommé? It looks like consommé. What do you think, Agent Kim?”

Jungkook Jeon looks shaken for a moment when you step in front of the table where’s he’s just laid out a picture-perfect pair of starters. His guests, a nicely-dressed older couple, also look shaken as they glance nervously between you, Agent Kim, and their now permanently off-duty server.

He straightens to his full height.

The youthful roundness of the face you’ve stared at so long in that driver’s license picture is gone. You have no idea what this guy’s been eating for the past few years, but in place of that baby-faced kid is a man, tall and broad and muscular. Tattoos you can’t make out run across his hands, up his arms, and disappear into the white dress shirt he has rolled to the elbows. His hair is on the long side, pulled back, giving you an unobstructed view of what can only be described as a perfect face. Serious, literal perfection.

Good grief.

Somehow the little shit recovers from his shock in an instant. He smirks, despite his clear disadvantage.

“I gotta say, you look even better in person.”

Oh yeah? So do you.

You ignore his opening line.

“It’s time to come home, Mr. Jeon. Pay the piper and all that.”

He has the nerve to roll his eyes and your hand itches with the desire to punch him in his stupid fucking perfect face.

“Teamed up with some Korean suits, huh?” He gives Agent Kim the once-over and apparently finds him lacking.

“Mr. Jeon,” you feign a scandalized tone. “Just how do you think I was raised? It would be downright rude to barge into a sovereign country without an invitation. Besides, Agent Kim here has been an absolute pleasure.”

You could hear a pin drop inside this restaurant right now. Every knife and fork and glass has come to rest on the fine white linen on these tables. The guests are frozen in place, taking in the strange scene.

Dinner and a show tonight, guys.

Jungkook doesn’t move an inch. You’d half expected him to just walk up, accept his cuffs and get this show on the road. But no, apparently he’s in a talking mood.

“Tell me how you found me.”

You sigh. You’re not a pair of girlfriends catching up over coffee. You open your mouth to say just that, but Agent Kim speaks up.

“We had a source come through with some very specific information on you.”

“Oh, I think Agent Kim is being far too kind,” you counter. “What he means to say is that your Korean sucks. You see, Mr. Jeon, you may look like them,” you gesture at the restaurant full of guests, “but you sound like us. Let’s just say you stick out like a sore thumb here.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement at the jab.

“I hated Korean school, you know.”

“It shows.”

He laughs.

Agent Kim clears his throat as if to remind you both that you’re not alone.

“Well this isn’t a social call, and I’m sure all these fine people would love to get back to their meals. So why don’t we finish this chat on the way back to the United States, Mr. Jeon?” you say, getting back to the task at hand.

Agent Kim signals his guys and they swoop in to put him in cuffs. He doesn’t resist, just holds out his hands and shoots you his most flirtatious smile.

“I’m going to hold you to that, Agent.”

On your way out the door, you glance over at the consommé and hope it’s supposed to be served cold.

**********************************

“What is a man who stole six million dollars doing waiting tables at a restaurant?” you muse out loud.

Jungkook Jeon is in the backseat of Agent Kim’s black SUV, looking out the window.

“I had to have some kind of story, right? Besides, I kind of liked it.”

“You didn’t get to spend the money,” you say.

“Not really,” he admits. “It’s much easier to fantasize about blowing millions of dollars than it is to actually do it.”

“Tsk, tsk, Mr. Jeon. What a shame.”

He leans forward in the backseat, hands cuffed in front of him.

“You know what would really be a shame, Agent? If I don’t get the chance to fuck you before you lock me up.”

A muscle twitches in Agent Kim’s jaw.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, glaring into the rearview mirror. You immediately decide you like him a little stern. It’s pretty hot.

“Mr. Jeon, you and your dick will be free to do whatever you’d both like in about twenty years. That’s how this whole grand larceny and evasion thing works,” you say, ignoring the sensation that spreads across the back of your neck at his crass words.

He whistles.

“I’m really going to waste my best-looking years in prison.”

No kidding.

“Oh, don’t be too disappointed,” you say sweetly. “I hear there are a few advantages to having such a pretty face behind bars.”

You hear the clink of his cuffs and look into your rearview just in time to see him give you the finger.

*********************************

The government can be so cheap sometimes.

You’d have loved to pull right up to the tarmac at Incheon International, walk right onto a chartered plane like the Feds do in the movies. But alas, private flights are definitely not in the budget.

Instead, you have to settle for regular seats on a Korean Air flight. You’d been in touch with the airline ahead of time and they’d offered you and your team privacy in the back rows of the plane – complete with a curtain separator. You really couldn’t blame them for not wanting passengers to be greeted by a handcuffed man and his gun-toting babysitters.

Smart move all around.

Seating arrangements are decided, you and Jungkook on one side of the aisle, your two Marshals on the other. They’re both smart men, highly-skilled and boring as hell. You’d already had to suffer through their small talk on the fourteen-hour long flight here, and you’d be damned if you had to do it again on the way back.

“Are you going to let me have a drink?” Jungkook asks, as soon as you’re settled into your seats.

“Of course,” you reply, scrolling through a few emails on your phone. “What’s your favorite kind of juice?”

He snorts.

“It’s gonna be a long flight unless you play nice,” he warns.

“Mr. Jeon,” you sigh. “Shut up.”

He shakes his handcuffs.

“You could at least take these off,” he grumbles. “Not like I can walk off of a moving plane.”

“Nope,” you reply, affecting your best bored tone. You grab a magazine out of the seatback and pretend to leaf through it.

“So you want me to sit here – no phone, no headphones, no nothing – for fourteen hours?”

“Better to practice that ‘bored out of your mind’ routine sooner rather than later. I’m sure it’s gonna come in handy.”

You don’t look his way, but you can feel the glare he’s fixed on you and you have to fight the urge to smile.

******************************

The flight attendant who rolls a giant drink cart into your quiet section of this plane looks like a doll. Porcelain skin, huge eyes and the whitest smile you have ever seen.

Jungkook straightens in his seat immediately. He’s been pouting for the last hour but now he sees this dazzling young woman and his game face is back on.

“Hello,” he says, flashing her a smile.

Then he stops — seems to remember his audience — and resumes the exchange in Korean. You stare at him as he makes eyes at the flight attendant, working her with the confidence of a man who is not wearing handcuffs right now.

She blushes deeply at something he says before turning back to her cart to pour a Jack and Coke.

“Are you serious, Jeon?”

He smiles.

“You don’t hate me, right? Like, obviously I’ve pissed you off, but you don’t hate me. Because only a person who hated me would stop me from having a drink on my way to federal prison.”

You open your mouth to protest, but instead decide that he’s right. He’s a thief – not a killer for pete’s sake.

A super-hot, ridiculously charming, complete asshole of a thief who is definitely not getting under your skin by flirting with the flight attendant right now.

The porcelain doll turns back and hands him his cocktail and Jungkook winks at her. This man just accepted his drink with his hands in fucking handcuffs and this woman is blushing at him like he just asked for her number in a nightclub.

“Are you done?” you hiss.

“With what?” he asks innocently, cuffs clinking as he lifts the drink to his mouth.

“Eye-fucking the flight attendant.”

He feigns shock. “Are you – are you…jealous?”

You scoff and turn your attention back to your magazine.

He leans close.

“Don’t be jealous,” he says, blowing whiskey-scented breath into your ear. “I wanted you first. I’m only flirting with her because you’re really mean to me.”

He leans back and takes another sip of his drink.

There is something about this mischievous boy-man with the chiseled body and the smart mouth. He certainly has a charm. You’re certain he’s been able to use that charm to get out of more than a few sticky situations over the years.

“I wasn’t kidding you know,” he says. “About wanting to fuck you.”

He shakes the ice in his glass to show off that he’s already drained it and gives you another one of those self-assured smiles that’s really starting to piss you off. You drop your gaze back to your magazine.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you state simply, pretending to have a deep interest in some blurb about face masks.

“No? Are you sure about that?”

“You are mind-bogglingly arrogant for a man who is headed to prison for the next two decades,” you reply dryly.

“Probably headed to prison,” he corrects. “Innocent until proven guilty, due process and all that. Unless things have changed? I realize it’s been a while since I’ve been home.”

You snort.

“Okay fine, you’re right. I’m headed to prison for the next twenty years which is why it’s imperative that you fuck me now. Immediately. Anything else would be,” he gives a dramatic shake of his head, “Inhumane.”

This time you can’t help but laugh and one of the Marshals across the aisle gives you a disapproving look, like he’s been forced to chaperone a pair of giggling teenagers.

You clear your throat and look back down at your magazine, force the smile off your face.

“Argentina,” you say. “How did you get out of there before I got to you?”.

The flight attendant returns with another drink and another smile for him.

“You want something, I want something,” he says, taking a long sip. “Maybe we could work something out?”

“I’m not going to fuck you for information, Jeon. All of that will soon come out in the wash,” you sigh.

“Then fuck me for charity. For good will. Fuck me because it’s the least you can do since you’re blowing up my entire life right now.”

You roll your eyes.

“You blew up your life, you idiot. You’re the one who intercepted a wire transfer and stole six million bucks. You’ve already been fucked. You fucked yourself.”

He smiles wistfully for a moment.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

*******************************

You stop him at three drinks.

His eyes have taken on a soft quality and his entire energy is a bit more relaxed with some booze in his system. It’s hard, it’s really hard to ignore how hot this man is without even trying.

But when he tries? Then it’s damned near impossible.

You check your watch. You still have seven hours to go on this flight.

“Luck,” he says, suddenly.

“Excuse me?” you say, looking up from your magazine.

“You wanted to know how I got out of Argentina in time. I was gonna make up some fancy story about how I’d figured out you were on to me and beat the clock to get away but the truth is, I was just lucky. I’d already been there too long and I was getting restless. I was ready to go.”

Hmm. So the booze has made him talkative.

“Your landlord said we’d missed you by one day,” you counter.

“Yup,” he laughs, closing his eyes momentarily as if reliving the thrill of the chase. “I used to have a lot of luck, actually. Before I ran into you.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fair enough,” you say and the two of you share a laugh. You open a bag of pretzels and offer him one. He begrudgingly accepts.

“Why did you take the money?”

He chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“Because I wanted to know if I could. I didn’t think I was gonna pull it off, but again, it was my luck. Once I figured out how to do it, I just did.”

“How remarkably stupid,” you breathe, a smile on your face. He smiles, too.

“Yeah, well. I said I was lucky, not smart.”

“Oh, but you are smart, Mr. Jeon, and don’t think you’ve convinced me otherwise. Your transcript from Stanford tells a very interesting story. What did your parents say when you dropped out at the top of your class and went to work at a gas station?”

The sarcastic back-and-forth screeches to a halt. For the first time, you see darkness pass over his face.

“Don’t ask me about my parents,” he says curtly. “I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know, but that shit is none of your business.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and this time you mean it.

He shifts to his side, away from you, and looks out the window.

You sit quiet, thinking for a minute – but after a while you both fall asleep.

********************************************

You wake to Jungkook nudging you.

“Get up,” he says urgently. “I have to piss.”

You groan, trying to clear the fog from your brain and glance at your watch. Still four more hours to go on this flight.

“Like now,” he says, bouncing one leg to ward off the sensation.

You get up, stretch out, and wait for him to stand but then realize he’s waiting for you to help him since it’s an awkward fit in the seats with his handcuffs. Instead of making a snarky comment, you just offer your hand and a slight smile.

Very unlike you.

“Thanks,” he says, straightening out, stretching his legs. One of the Marshals raises an eyebrow at you.

“He has to use the bathroom,” you say, stilling the man with a raised hand when he makes to stand. “It’s alright, I need to stretch, too. I’ll walk him down there.”

The Marshal looks skeptically from Jungkook to you and back.

“It’s fine, Agent,” you say, a little annoyed. “It’s not like he can go anywhere, right?”

“Right,” Jungkook says, still bouncing that leg.

The Marshal gives you a look that makes clear he doesn’t approve, but he’s not going to stop you.

You walk behind Jungkook as he makes his way past the curtain, down the aisle and towards the bathroom. It’s a half-empty flight, and you’re glad for it when you see people staring at his handcuffs. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed on his behalf when you hear them whispering in Korean. At least you don’t know what they’re saying.

The firm set of Jungkook’s mouth makes you think he wishes that were the case for him, too.

“Just uh, give me a minute,” he says, when you reach the bathroom.

It turns out to be a lot longer than a minute.

You’re half tempted to bang on the door and demand to know why he’s taking so long. Maybe the Marshal was right to be suspicious of Jungkook. Maybe he figured out a way off this plane through the toilet.

You’re bouncing your own leg impatiently when he finally reappears.

“What took you so long?” you ask, annoyed.

“You ever try to take your pants and underwear off while handcuffed?” he asks. “You know what — never mind, don’t answer that. You’ll start giving me ideas.”

Ah. He’s back, then.

Part of you is a little relieved to hear his smart-ass mouth again. You feel a hell of a lot less guilty around this version of him.

“Listen, I did a little recon and it’s a tight fit, but there’s definitely enough room for us to fuck,” he says, face comically serious. “And we’re running out of time for you to pull the trigger, so what’s it going to be?”

“Ugh. You’re foul,” you say, pulling a face.

“But you kind of like it,” he shoots back.

He’s right, though. You kind of do.

***********************

Clearly you’ve lost your mind.

Pheromones have short-circuited all the portions of your brain that control logic, reason, and risk. That’s the only plausible explanation for why you are slumped into your seat right now, legs pressed together tight, imagining fucking Jungkook Jeon in an airplane bathroom.

Sympathy and curiosity and more than a little horniness are making for a strange mix. You reason to yourself — as if you are actually entertaining this madness — that he’s not a convicted felon, just an accused one. There’s gotta be a loophole in the FBI handbook somewhere.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jungkook asks, leaning close — a smile playing over his lips.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” he whispers in a scandalized tone. “I mean with these on, I’m not going to be able to do my best work, obviously, but I’ve done more with less. Unless you want to take them off,” he says, rolling his wrists in the handcuffs.

“I already told you, I’m not taking those off,” you say sharply.

“Alright, alright. Keep it kinky. I can roll with that.”

”Shut up, Jeon.”

He gestures across his mouth like he’s zipping it shut and throwing away the key and you fight the urge to laugh.

“If I decided to fuck you, and I’m not saying I would,” you hiss, “I would have to stuff a sock into that smart mouth of yours just to not have to hear it.”

He laughs and his face looks so young and relaxed it takes your breath away a little.

“Make it your underwear and we have a deal,” he winks.

You pick up another magazine and get back to actively trying to ignore him and that annoying pulse between your legs.

*************************

Two hours left to Los Angeles.

You glance over at your guard dogs, who’ve both knocked out after a snack. One has a newspaper draped fully over his face, grandpa style.

You should have ordered a drink. You should have ordered six. That way, if you’re ever called to the carpet about the decision you’re about to make, you can blame it on alcohol-induced psychosis. Because the Marshals are asleep and you feel bad for Jungkook Jeon and he’s so hot you can barely think straight at this point. You take a deep breath and make a decision.

Fuck it.

You stand quietly, motioning to Jungkook with a finger over your lips. For a moment, his brows knit together in confusion but that look passes almost as quickly as it came. Then his entire face breaks out into a wide grin.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Shut up,” you whisper back, through gritted teeth.

You hold out your hand to help him to stand and when he grips it, he rubs his the pad of his thumb across your wrist. You try to ignore the sizzle of arousal he manages to drum up with that brief touch.

Quietly, you both walk past the curtain, past sleeping passengers and back to the clean but cramped bathroom where you are about to do the dumbest shit you have ever done.

You glance around at the passengers nearby and notice only one older man, eyes wide on the two of you. You shoot an excuse-me-sir-this-is-official-government-business look at him before following Jungkook into the tiny space.

You lock the door and turn to face him.

“Glad you finally came around,” he says, immediately backing you into the door. His mouth goes right for your neck and he pushes his entire body into yours in this tiny space. He is large and warm and he smells way better than he should after working a restaurant shift, being arrested, and then being jammed into a plane seat for hours.

His lips work up the column of your throat and his hands, still secured in front of him, push uselessly into the front of your lightweight wool dress. Shame, really, that you couldn’t take him out of these. You’d love to feel those hands right about now.

“I wasn’t kidding about keeping your mouth shut,” you manage to say, breathless at the feel of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

The vibration of his laughter tickles the shell of your ear.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he says. “I just need to get my face under this dress.”

Your brain stutters for a moment, hung up on the mental image. He drops to his knees in front of you, lifts his hands to try and push up the front of the almost-too-tight garment but his handcuffs make it impossible. You graciously help him out, hiking the hem up your thighs. You’re about to work your underwear down, but he’s impatient, burying his face directly into the wet satin and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he groans, nosing the aching nub between your thighs. You’re glad he can’t see the way your mouth drops open when he licks out at the damp material, teasing you with the barest hint of friction.

“Help me out here,” he moans, and you do just that, sliding your panties down as best you can with the amount of space you’ve got.

At this angle, you can only get them down to your knees, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. He pushes his entire face into you, lips and teeth and tongue driving into you, working you with a fervor that makes your knees start to wobble. You grab a handful of his hair to steady yourself but it’s no use. Absently, you realize the tremors running up and down your body are rattling the door.

“Nice to know that mouth is good for more than just trash talk,” you tease on deep exhale. He laughs.

“Maybe some day you’ll get the chance to enjoy the full-service experience.”

“Probably not, Jeon,” you moan. “This is just a one-time favor, got it?”

All the blood in your brain has taken a dive into parts lower south and you marvel at how quickly your impending orgasm is coming on. But then, you’ve basically had about ten hours of foreplay up to this point, so maybe it’s not that surprising.

That damned door keeps rattling and you just know the little old man on the other side is probably staring it down. You’re not sure what it says about you that you think that’s kind of hilarious.

Your body jolts when Jungkook wraps his lips around your clit and sucks so hard you see stars. “You’re the one about to come on my face in an airplane bathroom,” he groans, licking obscenely between words. “So who’s doling out favors right now?”

Well, that does it.

The second he brings his lips and tongue back to your clit, you fall apart, gripping his hair so hard you’re certain it has to hurt. You pour all your energy into not screaming as your orgasm steamrolls you, and whatever energy you have left goes into trying to stay upright. Jungkook stays face-first in your heat, lapping up your release until the last tremors shake you and that goddamned door.

“Shit,” your voice is shaky, chest heaving when you finally make a sound.

“You are very, very fucking hot,” Jungkook says, breathless from where he sits on the floor. “Way too hot to be a Fed.”

You laugh.

“Well you are definitely too hot to be a criminal, but here we are, huh?”

Your eyes slide down to his glinting handcuffs, but they aren’t what’s catching your attention. Instead, your gaze heads right to the giant bulge straining against the front of his jeans. Turnabout is fair play, and you’re suddenly very eager to return the favor.

You help him stand and immediately seal your mouth to his, tasting yourself on his lips. Your fingers fumble past his restraints, underneath to where you can feel the button of his jeans and you undo it as fast as you can. He stops kissing you long enough to groan into your mouth when your hands slip into his boxers and your fingers wrap around his cock. He is hot and thick and hard in your hand. You squeeze around him, enjoying the way his hips jerk in response.

“Don’t tease,” he whines. “I’m gonna have to fantasize about this blowjob for the next twenty years.”

“I’d better make it memorable then,” you say, sinking down to your knees in the cramped space. You shove his jeans off his hips and look up at him as you gently push his boxers down and over his straining cock. His body is rock hard, lean muscle and defined lines running from his shapely legs up to his cuffed wrists and underneath that white shirt you’d love to peel off but can’t.

His head falls back the second your lips touch his swollen head. You tease it for a moment with a few quick licks, but decide this is really not the time to be dragging this out. The strangled “fuck” he whispers when you take him down fully is the sweetest and dirtiest thing you’ve heard in a while.

You manage to catch his gaze for a moment as you maintain a steady rhythm on his cock with your hands. His eyes are glassy with drinks and arousal, and you nearly have to slip a hand between your legs when his tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips.

He lifts and drops his handcuffs a couple of times before growling his frustration at not being able to put his fingers in your hair. You feel a faint throb of sympathy for him for a moment before reminding yourself that you literally have your mouth around his cock so frankly, things could be a lot worse for him than they are right now.

“You gotta stop,” he says, after a few minutes of the slow, wet torture. You release him with a soft pop and a confused expression.

“It’s your last blowjob for twenty years, Jeon. You want me to stop?”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I have to fuck you. Please let me fuck you. It’s all I can think about,” he whines.

“You can’t,” you say firmly. “No condoms.”

He blows out a heavy breath like he’s thinking for a moment and there you are, on your knees in this tiny bathroom, confused as to what your next step should be.

“Look around,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Look – people fuck in airplane bathrooms all the time, right? It’s a thing. Maybe someone out there pulled some hero shit and is looking out for the next person.”

“This bathroom,” you say skeptically, “is the size of a goddamned shoebox, Jeon. You think we’re going to magically scrounge up a condom?”

“Just look,” he implores through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” you huff, leaning over to pop the cabinet under the sink open. You put one searching hand inside and pull out three sanitary pads that look like they were packaged in the 1970s.

He groans, frustrated.

“Hang on,” you say, jamming your hand back inside. Your fingertips brush up against something smooth and you fish it out, eyes wide with utter disbelief.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

You hold the condom packet up for him to inspect.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, cock jerking at the sight of it, like it knows he’s just hit the jackpot.

He laughs so hard for a moment you fear this entire encounter has gone entirely off track.

“My luck is back,” he declares triumphantly, finally. “Now, please hurry up and get on my dick.”

You’re shaking your head in disbelief the entire time you’re ripping the packet open, rolling it down Jungkook’s impossibly still-hard cock. He’s breathing hard, body tense with anticipation when you slide your heels off to take your underwear off completely.

“The heels,” he groans, watching as you slip your panties over your ankles. “Can you — you know…keep ‘em on?”

“Ugh, you are such a pervert,” you scold, slipping your feet back into the shoes and leaning back to line him up with your entrance. He surges forward and you moan at the stretch as he fills you entirely in one thrust.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, already rolling his hips frantically against you. “Shit, that’s incredible.”

And truthfully, it is. The ledge of the sink is biting into your ass with every thrust and you’re having to do most of the work given his handcuff situation but you really don’t even care because he still feels amazing like this.

He mouths uselessly at the wool covering your breasts because there’s no way to get to them. You nearly admonish him because he’ll leave crude wet spots on the fine material, but you decide against it.

“Oh, I bet you have amazing tits,” he groans, hips maintaining a steady rhythm. “Giving me something to look forward to for next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, Jeon. And there won’t be a this time if you don’t hurry up already,” you shoot back.

He laughs, a little breathless from exertion. “I’m close, I promise. Fuck, you feel so good.”

You squeeze tighter around him, push harder back against him, angle your hips a bit more to ensure he’s going to the hilt with every thrust. The guttural sound he makes in response sends a shiver up your back.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps after a moment, mouth covering yours as his hips begin to stutter at the first ebbs of his release. Your ass is numb from the sink ledge at this point, legs tired from supporting your weight and his.

“So come then,” you tease, biting gently on the sensitive skin at his pulse point. He groans from deep inside his chest as he lets go – hips jerking as he pumps himself through it.

“Shit,” he groans, leaning on you with his full weight.

“You are crushing me Jeon,” you complain, pushing at his chest with both hands. He chuckles. “Yeah, sorry about that. Balance is a little off at the moment.”

You open your mouth to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but there is something about the way he is looking at you right now that stops you short.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the tiny glimpse into whatever that was.

“Well, as much as I’d love to ruminate on how good this was,” you say, shifting your dress back down and making a beeline for your underwear, “We’ve been in here an insane amount of time already. There’s probably a line outside the door.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, a little too quiet for your liking.

So you put yourself back together and help put him back together, too.

And strangely, when you open the door to leave there is no line. But that little old man is still watching, a look of astonishment on his face as you both walk past.

***********************************

“Listen, are you sitting down right now?”

You frown at the phone display in your office because any conversation that starts with an opening line like that is headed south.

“Uh…yeah. Why?”

“Hang on, I’m coming to your office.”

Seconds later, Agent Novak bursts through the door.

“So you haven’t seen it,” he says, rushing up to your desk.

“Seen what, Novak? Spit it out,” you say, frustrated already.

“Check your email,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. He looks fit to burst with some kind of excitement and your chest already feels a little tight at whatever it is he’s dying to show you.

You click into your email to find an urgent bulletin that you’d missed because you were working on a stack of papers on your desk, not your computer. The subject line makes your heart hammer.

URGENT MEMO: Fugitive Search, Jungkook Jeon

ATTACHED VIDEO FILE

“The guy just walked out of a federal courthouse like he was on an afternoon stroll. Had on a suit and everything,” Novak says, a note of awe in his voice. “Check out the video.”

Your mouth is already hanging open before you even click on the attached CCTV footage. A camera inside the courthouse shows Jungkook Jeon walk out of a bathroom in the front lobby, dressed like an attorney, not a defendant. His long hair is cut into a more professional style, his suit covers his tattoos and he looks entirely in place.

Novak is right – he walks so casually past the guards and other visitors that no one even thinks to stop him.

“Word is, court was on a lunch break and it looks like he had everything ready to go. Walked into a waiting Uber and vanished like smoke.”

You haven’t said a word since Novak walked in with this bombshell.

You just watch the CCTV footage over and over again in a loop, willing your brain to accept what your eyes can see clear as day.

This motherfucker.

Guess his luck really is back.

***************************

#jungkooksmut #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x read #btssmut #bts fanfic #bts fic

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djarinslover · 4 years

Text

Countdown

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year @ahopelessromanticwritersworld! I hope you like this Secret Santa Max Phillips fic. He might be a little OOC because I wasn’t sure how exactly to write him. Just imagine he’s still an ass, just not an ass to you 🥰

Everyone has a soulmate. On a person's 21st birthday, a timer appears on their wrist. This timer counts down the years, months, days, hours, minutes and seconds until you come in contact with the soulmate. The timer then disappears forever. It fills everyone with anxiety, because who wants to count down the exact time they’re going to meet the love of their life?

01:00:17

That was currently the time on your wrist. It made anxiety and giddiness spin in your stomach. You were so excited to finally be with your destined person and you couldn’t wait until they showed up.

You were hosting a New Year party at your apartment, sipping on a mocktail drink. You were also cheering on Tim, a college friend, who was shotgunning the nastiest combination of beer, whiskey, vodka and strawberry soda.

‘He’s gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow,’ you thought.

Xenia, your roommate, bounces over with her soulmate, Zabeth, in tow. “Hey, we’re gonna play Just Dance. Wanna join?” Her words were slurred and she stumbled slightly as Zabeth reached to steady her.

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“In your dreams!”

00:30:10

You were greeting Evan, Amanda and Frank at the door, letting them in.

“Sorry we’re so late,” Evan apologized. “Frank had to stop for more Redbulls.”

He points at the man chugging a Redbull, who gives you a thumbs up. You giggly, shaking your head. “It’s no problem. Still have a few more minutes until the new year.”

“Our boss, Max, is coming soon. We tried to be discreet about it but he has the hearing of an owl. I hope you don’t mind,” Amanda said.

“Not at all!”

You usher the group farther into the apartment, swiping your arm around to gesture at everything. “Please, help yourself. There’s plenty of drinks, snacks and games. I think Tim was just kicking Zabeth’s ass in Just Dance.”

“Oooh, sweet!” Frank bounces off towards the group of people watching the dance competition.

Evan turns to help himself to a drink while you and Amanda talk.

“Soo, why is your boss coming?”

“Well, he heard about Tim talking about it, you know how loud he is. And Max decided he’d crash. He also said it just felt right, like he should be here.”

You frown, tilting your head. “Felt right? That’s odd.”

She nods in agreement, thanking Evan as he brings her champagne. You lead them to the balcony to talk without having to shout.

00:02:00

You were feeling so anxious you thought everything you had during the party was going to come right back up. It was two minutes to the new year and two minutes until your soulmate walked right through your door. Xenia popped over your shoulder, breath smelling of booze.

“Heyyy, you’re so close!” she slurred, grabbing your wrist.

“And you’re so drunk,” you laugh.

“Best way to party, babe.”

You roll your eyes as you nod, smiling. As everyone begins to crowd around the tv to watch the ball drop, you take a step outside for some fresh air. You needed a moment away from the sweaty, boozed up partiers.

You look at your wrist quickly.

00:00:40

Your heart stops, the breath stolen from your lungs. Only forty seconds. You couldn’t wait. You look at the night sky, at the twinkling stars and glowing moon. You take the moment to savor the excitement you felt one last time. Everyone began to count down.

“10!”

You head back inside.

“9!”

Your timer was counting down as well.

“8! 7! 6!”

Your lip was caught between your teeth so hard, you were afraid it was going to bleed.

“5! 4! 3!”

The anticipation was killing you.

“1! Happy New Year!”

You were swept into a pair of arms. The person dipped you and pressed their lips against yours. You squeak, eyes wide and hands fisted in the person’s shirt collar. When the person pulled back, you saw the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was grinning down at you, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Hello, darling. Sorry I was almost late.”

“You . . . are?”

“Max Phillips. The love of your life.”

Everything began to click into place. You felt so comfortable with this man, so warm and safe and cared for. You place a hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. You introduce yourself, not realizing everyone around you was staring. Max lifts you back up onto your feet and Xenia starts cheering.

“I guess I put on one hell of a show,” Max said with a smug smirk.

You ignore everyone, pulling Max in the direction of your room. You pull him inside, locking the door behind the two of you. He crowds you against the wall, eyes dark and hazy.

“Moving pretty fast, aren’t we?” he asked. “Not that I mind. I want nothing more than to fuck you into your mattress.”

You flush deeply, cheeks hot and mouth dry. You shake your head, huffing out a laugh as you push him away gently. “No, Max. I’m not ready for that. I’d like to get to know you better. We have all our lives to make love.”

“Make love . . .” he muses over the wording, shredding his jacket. “Not what I would say it would be, but . . .”

Giggling, you gesture for him to turn around. With a raised eyebrow, he reluctantly turns to let you get into your night time clothes. You lay down in bed before letting him turn back around. He sheds his pants and shirt, leaving him in just his boxers. You blush but he strokes your face.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”

You smile, patting the empty space. He lies down, letting you curl into his arm and lay on his chest. He plays with your hair as the two of you just lay in silence.

“I do have something I need to tell you,” he said softly.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.”

Silence rings loudly in the room. You don’t move for a while, just processing what you heard. Max was as still as a statue, not moving or breathing. You sit up slowly, shifting to look at him in the dim moonlight.

“I’m sorry if that changes anything, if it makes you-”

You cup Max’s face gently, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t care if you’re a vampire or if you have one day left to live. You’re mine and I’ve been waiting too long for you.”

He seems to melt into your touch, reaching up to bring you down to his lips. He kisses you so softly, so passionately that you forget about anything else in the world. You completely forget about the party raging on in the apartment. The night was lost in the touch of your soulmate.

You wake up groggy and warm. Almost too warm. Your eyes open as you try to figure out why you felt so hot. As you roll over, a pair of arms tighten around your shoulder and waist. You come face to face with Max, who was sleeping peacefully. Right. You finally met your soulmate last night. You lightly touch his face, admiring his features. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and you couldn’t believe he was all yours.

He stirs, eyes slowly opening to meet yours. A smile crosses his lips.

“Good morning, handsome,” you whisper as you stroke his hair.

He squeezes you closer to him, nosing down your neck and groans. “You smell so damn good in the morning.”

“Me or my blood?”

“Both.”

He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle as the two of you just hold each other. You suddenly feel teeth at your neck, marking you up but never fully biting into you. You shove at him lightly, startling him.

“Sorry, got carried away.”

“Let’s talk about you drinking my blood after coffee.”

“Let’s talk about turning you, too,” he murmurs into your ear.

The thought of you being a vampire makes your heart rate kick up. Max kisses the top of your head, whispering, “Only if you want.”

Being together forever with your soulmate didn’t sound like much of a debate or a lose-lose situation. You snuggle further into his grip, brushing the thoughts aside. Those were a later morning talk. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy finally holding the person you’ve been waiting for.

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips fluff #pedros12daysofchristmas #bloodsucking bastards #soulmate au #soulmates

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theluckyyyoneee · 5 years

Text

Guise

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst/Fluff(in later parts)

Word Count: 2.4+k

part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 |

SoulmateAU! Where he hides his soulmate tattoo from everyone, especially you.

Twirling your mechanical pencil around between your middle and pointer finger of your right hand, you zoned off into the great distance, eyeing the chipping paint on the walls as you felt utterly drained and exhausted, in all physical, mental and emotional senses.

The life of a rushed college student trying to find the right balance between studying and self care and also incorporating enough of a social life to remain sane was seemingly impossible, and you were terrible at time management as you proved to yourself time and time again. Especially when finals were approaching at a fearful rate and you felt like you hadn’t prepared nearly as much as needed to ace the exams.

Huffing as you collapsed onto the desk in front of you, you heard the throaty chuckle besides you as you peered at Namjoon through your lashes and a few strands of wild hair that crept on your cheeks. “Take a nap, I’ll wake you up in thirty minutes. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He sweetly offered, his dimples popping through as he eye smiled at you through his own fatigue.

Propping your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the table, you couldn’t help but observe the deadly handsome and gentle man next to you.

He was such a good guy, you mused as you watched his profile, his own tattoo placed behind his right ear that would eventually bond him with his ‘soulmate’, a being who the universe had decided all on their own that would complete and make the other person happy. You wondered what kind of person his soulmate was.

Namjoon and you were so close, you two had bonded over each other’s respective clumsiness and forgetfulness in your freshman year of college, yet you found it a bit odd how you didn’t really know his stance on the whole soulmate thing. He never talked about the physically minuscule mark on his body that would have an enormous role in his life. Always presented a stoic, almost indifferent expression when he laid eyes upon the numerous couples along campus, never had expressed any longing towards a significant other either.

“Can I ask you something?”

He childishly snickered a little and gazed down at you with that attractive little smirk (authors note: omg imagine if he rlly looked at u like that id be dead) he did when he was about to tell a predictable joke. “You just did.” You mouthed the words along with him and rolled your eyes at him, a smile finding your lips anyway. He nodded at you and waited expectantly and suddenly you found yourself the tiniest bit shy.

Briefly pondering what would have happened if the two of you somehow shared the same tattoo, if somehow the two of you were each other soulmates. Would he had hid it if he noticed it before you did like Yoongi? No, you reasoned, he wasn’t that kind of person. He preferred to confront situations head on. Maybe you wouldn’t have hated the idea so much if you had a soulmate like Namjoon.

Instead the universe deemed your ‘perfect other half that will definitely complete you’ as an egotistic, douchebag named Min Yoongi.

“What do you feel about the whole soulmate thing?” Your voice was as small as a mouse and you saw his face drop a bit from his peaceful expression, making you tilt your head in confusion. His jaw tightened and his overall presence and posture suddenly became very rigid.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to his studies as he answered with stiff casualness, “I don’t really have an opinion on it. I’ll worry about it when it happens.”

You could tell that he seemed very uncomfortable with the topic and you wanted to apologize for ruining the light atmosphere. It all of a sudden felt thick with tension between the two of you and you had no idea why.

So you hummed as nonchalantly as you could and turned away, “Ah, I see...” reminding and praying that you remembered to try and get Namjoon to open up a bit when he was ready.

But for now you turned away to your own notes and thought of your own predicament you were dealing with.

Keeping your lips sealed after what happened in that cursed classroom a few weeks ago, you had told no one and determined that it was just a bad nightmare, an irrational and delusional nightmare you wanted to forget ever having.

Namjoon was Yoongi’s friend... kind of. Well, you knew that they at least tolerated each other.

Should you just tell Namjoon what had occurred and ask for advice about what to do next?

No, let’s not make him even more uncomfortable, you sighed and laid your head back on the desk and allowed your dreary eyelids to shut as you recalled what happened that dreaded afternoon.

You really did not want to believe it.

Even if it turned out to be true, you wanted to run away even if it was cowardly but before you even knew what the hell you were doing, you were taking large strides to Yoongi’s frozen figure in the seat, both gasping at the shock and warm sensation you felt from finally making physical contact for the first time.

You had heard people talking about it, how the two persons involved felt electrified and so connected to each other and their bond. And although you couldn’t really argue with that statement, you didn’t feel particularly too connected to him at that moment. You guessed the emotions were consequences of the particular revelation.

Yes, his skin was smooth and warm to the touch, and an insane part of you had the idea to run your fingers down his wrist to meet his own in an intertwined embrace. Until the more rational side, your preferred and more dominant side, clued in the jagged and broken pieces as best as it could and suddenly everything made sense, heart thundering in your chest as you broke down your late epiphany as best as you could.

Throwing his arm down harshly, you couldn’t get the image of your tattoo out of your head-the one slightly bigger than an inch-the one you somehow shared with the man in front of you. Only now were you able to decipher the strange intricate lines-it had been both of your initials in some abstract handwriting.

Looking back at it now, you felt like such an idiot to not see the MYG that was so blatantly and obviously there, mocking you, forever etched on your skin, not at all welcomed there.

Releasing a shaky exhale as you tried your hardest to remain calm, you stared at Min Yoongi, that damned loon that somehow thought it a good idea to keep such an important detail to himself, had still not moved from his frozen stature and had dark, wide unblinking eyes stare frightened back at you.

“You’re my soulmate?” As soon as the words escaped your lips, it felt all wrong. “How long have you known?”

How long had you known him for?

Why was it him?

Imitating a fish, his mouth opened and shut numerous times before uttering, “Since the day we met.”

The memory burned fresh in your brain. You had been completely and immediately enamored with him at the first glance of him, and had the vaguest feeling that your feelings were mutual. When he had suddenly grew even paler than he already was and his lovely eyes widened to their maximum extent, you wanted to ask what the matter was, your soulmate tattoo subconsciously in full view.

Until he gazed at you like you had just cursed him out with your finest curse, most disgusting insults. It had oddly felt like he took part of your soul with him when he disappeared that day.

It had seemed he was avoiding you every time he caught a glimpse of you, there was no chance in hell you were going to get to know him better if you couldn’t even get closer than twenty feet of him. One second you were making eye contact with him, then the next he was pressed against some girl all the while keeping gazes with you, not understanding why your stomach would knot in jealousy and loneliness, when normally you were not like this at all.

“You...” He had known all this time. Of course, why would he suddenly start to wear all those hoodies and sweaters in this scorching heat, with beads of sweat clinging to his temple? How he always seemed to claw at his sleeves whenever you were near? How the gorgeous girls he had flirted with in front of you filled with such insecurities just from looking from afar?

Min Yoongi was your soulmate?

What a joke.

“You knew this whole time?” You stupidly had finally spit the whole phrase out into the open air, the silence deafening as the two of you faced each other, each heart thundering in your chests.

Yoongi had finally risen from his fixed posture at the desk and stood up, taking a tentative step forward before stumbling back a few shaky steps.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You hated that you sounded so pathetic, so desperate even to yourself.

It wasn’t as if you had even wanted to meet your soulmate, the fact that he hid it from you probably meant that he didn’t want you, right? So you should be happy you weren’t tied to someone who was going to tie you to him, but why did the thought of him possibly not wanting you break your heart into pieces?

Maybe there was such a thing as a soulmate bond after all, if your whole being was being torn like this, this much.

His demeanor seemed to change in an instant, and he had lost all past vulnerability and uncertainty. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed on you he spat out, “You think this makes sense?” He gestured between the two of you quickly, trying to keep his voice low in case any other students were lingering out in the halls, although unlikely, and you could sense his shame from where you were standing. “Us? That you’re my soulmate?”

It was like the roles had reversed and now you were the frozen one, an ache formed deep in your stomach as you registered his words. But they were the ones you had wanted to say to him a few minutes ago, so why were you feeling this way?

“I’ll tell it to you straight,” he continued, not giving you a moment to collect yourself. “I don’t want people finding out you’re my soulmate. It’s embarrassing, and since you never bothered to hide it, I have to.” He bent down and grasped his discarded hoodie from the ground and shook it in your direction. “Do you know how fucking bothersome is it to always have to wear this twenty four seven? In this weather? Huh?”

You didn’t bother answering, feeling yourself get worked up over his words had you breaking out of your moment of dejection and nodded, exhaling harshly. Right, you could overcome this. But first you had to show him that you weren’t just going to stay silent and weak when he was insulting you.

Embarrassing? He was embarrassed of you? He should have just told you when he had first found out, that way things wouldn’t have been this twisted. The two of you could have coolly and casually gone your separate ways, but for some reason you felt betrayed.

“Look, we have nothing in common, and to be honest, this whole soulmate shit is really fucking unfair.” It seemed he was becoming a bit drained, like his newfound energy had dissipated as fast as it had come.

“I wouldn’t say we have nothing in common,” you trailed off, meeting his glare with one of your own, though his faltered a bit at your unexpected words, looking at you the tiniest bit puzzled. A bitter smile gracing your lips, you raised your eyebrows a bit as you continued, gaining a bit of satisfaction at the look of surprise on Yoongi’s face. “It’s not like I want you, either.”

“Y/N wake up.” You were being shook gently back and forth by Namjoon, his dimpled smile being the first sight you see when you open your eyes. He chuckled under his breathe as you sluggishly lift your weary body up, and groaning in pain as you feel one your ribs were pressing on the edge of the table, an ache forming and stabbing every time you moved. Sitting up, you noticed a very familiar light cardigan draped around your shoulders, and you gaze starstruck and touched up at Namjoon, silently thanking him for covering you, knowing you always got cold when you slept.

He ruffled your hair affectionately in answer as you attempted to rub the remaining sleepiness from your eyes and fix your appearance so it was more presentable, handing the cardigan back to him. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you,” he smiled apologetically. “but the library is closing soon, and I’d feel better if you slept in your own bed instead of this stiff chair.”

It was only then you noticed the lack of people around and you felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks, wondering why if you had slept so long why you felt even more exhausted than before. “Thanks, and sorry for making you study by yourself...” you trailed off, standing up and slinging your bag on your shoulder as the two of you slowly made your way out of the library, nodding politely to the librarian behind the wide oak desk.

“No worries, but I do expect some coffee from you tomorrow, just saying.” It had gotten a bit dark and there was a bit of a breeze and you froze as Namjoon suddenly draped the cardigan over your shoulders once again. Your fingers met when you both fixed the collar and it made you grip the fabric tighter around yourself when he quickly pulled away, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.

You agreed to his proposition as casually as you could and stumbled a little when you made eye contact with the one and only Min Yoongi, who was also just seemed to leaving for the day, his strong gaze alternating between you and Namjoon, and the cardigan around your shoulders.

wow i have not written this much in a really long time so i’m actually pretty proud of myself lol. lmk what u guys thought down in the comments or messages! as always thanks to everyone who is reading and to everyone who left those supportive comments they really made my day and i appreciate all of you!!<3

T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .

tag list: @hoodiebangtan @xanny91 @babeejeon @chocolatemilk1221 @fuckthatfeeling @cremextart @secretlypg95 @littlegryffindorsavage @paracii @tragicrosemoons @sunshinein17 @xxluckydreamsxx @skzleaf @lidda @thesugatoyourtae @marycarabell @pawschimchim

#bts #bts au #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts suga #suga #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts namjoon #bts x reader #bts angst #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #kpop scenarios

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hcneylaced · 4 years

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( MOON GAYOUNG, CISWOMAN, SHE/HER ╱ wait is that ROSALIE MYUNG ? I heard the 24 YEAR OLD, NURSE has only been living in new york city for the past SIX YEARS & seems to have already made a name for themselves. though they can be DEPENDABLE & WITTY, you should watch out because they are also known to be GUARDED & OBSTINATE. however, they seem to post a lot about CHERRY STAINED RED LIPS, THE RELIEF OF A HAPPY ENDING TO A GREAT NOVEL, PIANO KEYS THAT COLLECTED DUST OVER THE YEARS. but I am definitely curious about that RING ON A CHAIN AS A NECKLACE they hold so dear.

─ ─ ─ ⋆ hi, i’m ali! i’m very excited to be here and meet you along with all your muses! rosalie is a muse i created a few months ago, but never had the chance to develop so i can’t wait to see how she interacts with your muses! below you will find rosalie’s biography and below that you will find wanted connections for her! if you’d like to plot with rosalie or you see a wanted connection ( below ) that you see fits your muse, feel free to give this a like! we can exchange discords too if plotting is easier that way! ⋆ ─ ─ ─

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BASICS.

full name : rosalie myung . nicknames : rosie, rosa . date of birth / age : may 13 , twenty four . star sign : taurus . gender / pronouns : cis woman , she & her . orientation : demisexual , biromantic . nationality : korean , american . languages : english , korean .

APPERANCE.

height : five foot five . build : petite , slim . hair color : brunette . eye color : dark brown . style : here . tattoos : here . scars : underneath her jaw ( from her brother ) . faceclaim : moon ga young .

PERSONALITY.

positive : witty , dependable , practical , independent , kind-hearted . negative : guarded , obstinate , brooding , blunt , proud . likes : playing piano, writing music, red lipstick, her frequent patients, pastry . dislikes : her brother , her mother , cockiness , showing her own weakness . quirks : hair twirling . hobbies : playing piano ( once upon a time ) , writing lyrics , writing music . fears : the feeling of being unloved , showing a sense of weakness , heights , her brother .

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TW: ABUSE , BULLYING , ALCOHOLISM , DEATH , POSTPARTUM.

daddy’s little girl from the start, ROSALIE MYUNG always got whatever she wanted by simply asking. her father, DONG-HYUN MYUNG, would give her anything without question as long as his little girl was happy and thriving. rosalie was never ungrateful for the gifts she received and despite being born into money, secured for the rest of her life and more than comfortable, she formed a close bond with her father, appreciating everything he did for her. her first best friend, her favorite person, it was obvious that rosalie was the favorite child. he would put rosalie above anyone and anything ━ rosalie came first.

it lead to the relationship between dong-hyun and her older brother, GRAYSON MYUNG, strained. it was filled with awkward silences that her brother tried fix with words of desperation for a look in his direction, for dong-hyun to be proud. grayson wanted to gain their father’s attention and affection more than anything, a feeling of hatred blooming inside of him for his younger sister when it was clear he was failing. rosalie didn’t have to do much to be the favorite ━ coming into this earth and stealing their father’s heart instantly.

while her relationship with her father continued to get stronger, rosalie couldn’t remember a time that her mother, BITNA MYUNG, wasn’t so cold toward her. postpartum depression was the medical term given when rosalie was five months old and bitna couldn’t find it in herself to hold her new baby, to feel joy within her over rosalie. it wasn’t the same feeling she had with grayson. as rosalie became older, however, nothing seemed to change. while the two never clicked, rosalie tried her best to bond with her mother. the way rosalie’s father was invested in work, but went out of his way for their daughter, left a bitter taste in bitna’s mouth and kept rosalie at arm’s length.

at fourteen years old, rosalie loses the one person she thought she could never live without. a drunk driver the police said, her father died at the scene and they did the best they could to help him. flashbacks of how destroyed his car was doesn’t leave her mind, bile rising up in her throat at the thought of what took place inside that vehicle. the tension in the myung household grows, rosalie feeling like she was now an outsider in her own family.

starting freshman year of high school, rosalie starts pushing her friends away and it doesn’t take much for them to move on without finding a reason. the light rosalie used to have dims. while she excels in school, her social life goes down the drain until there’s nothing left. the friends she used to have whisper behind her back. the books she held in her arms forcefully dropped to the floor after an accidentally bump in the hallway. notes left behind in her locker with both familiar and unfamiliar handwriting that leaves her more angry than sad. a wall builds up quickly, ignoring everyone around her until she’s able to answer the questions in class or hand a witty response to whoever decides to mess with her.

rosalie’s home life becomes darker. at eighteen years old and a graduate from high school, grayson’s main goal is to take over her father’s business that left their family rich. he’s smart and knows the in and out of the business from all the times he’d shadow his father. grayson wants to be the man of the house now, wants to make sure his mother is secure and comfortable living. rosalie is the last thing on his mind and it shows. while he’s stepping up to the plate, the added stress he’s put on his plate taking a toll and he turns to drinking early on. their mother remains in the shadows. without much words between rosalie and bitna, the former knows her mother is grieving over the death of her father.

the first anniversary of dong-hyun’s passing is when the hits start. rosalie had been used to the verbal lashing her older brother used to give her, able to let the harsh comments roll of her shoulders and move on. there wasn’t a time he was physical, however. it changed when they got into argument, rosalie not knowing what to do with her life, but working at dong-hyun’s company wasn’t something she saw in her future. it was a quick contact of cheek to hand, broken and bruised skin taking form hours later. there was no apology afterward and as the days went on, it was a repeat of the same thing. it was easy for rosalie to hide the bruises and marks left behind. her mother turned a blind eye and her classmates weren’t watching her enough to notice or care.

the walls grow taller around rosalie. she rather people think she was a horrible person, a complete freak than think she was weak. after one too many bumps and mending herself together, it’s her senior year when rosalie realizes what she wants to do with her future. deep down, she has a heart of gold. a nurse ━ someone who can help others, who can patch up their wounds and calm them down and all around be there for them. it’s an idea she sleeps on, but wakes up knowing it’s what she wants.

new york is her escape. she applies for as many universities as she can, her outstanding grades and extra credits enough for her to get accepted into every college of her choice. by the time she’s eighteen and graduated, she’s packing her stuff and leaving her hometown behind without a word to her mother or brother. she gets a job as a receptionist, saves up all her money while living in one of the most run down apartments she’s ever seen. rosalie starts from the ground up, however, thrilled to be getting away from where she once lived, who she had to surround herself with. she makes friends and works hard in all her classes ━ passes with flying colors and graduates with honors.

currently, rosalie is living in new york with her guard still up. she’s not soft, but kind ━ her softness showing for her patients and disappearing once she clocks out. she still lives in an apartment, but a much better one that she can be proud of. rosalie isn’t completely out of the clear, unfortunately, because after her brother found out about her whereabouts, he doesn’t want to leave her alone. grayson has still never apologized for the abuse he put her through, but all she does is screen his calls and hope one day he gets the hint.

and well, if you tell rosalie gods and goddesses are roaming new york city under the disguise of a normal human, she more than likely wouldn’t believe you.

TIDBITS;

⋆ when rosalie was younger, her father taught her how to play the piano. the talent came natural to her and she had an ear for music and lyrics. after his passing, rosalie hasn’t even looked at a piano. deep down, she misses the feeling of the smooth keys underneath her fingertips, but it brings up too many memories of her father.

⋆ the ring she keeps on a chain as a necklace belongs to her late father. it’s a piece of him she takes everywhere she goes. rosalie will take it off for bed and when she bathes, but it’s always near her. she’s never not wearing it. it’s another way to keep her father close to her heart.

WANTED CONNECTIONS;

wanted tag can be found here !

any and all connections are open to humans and gods/goddesses !

WANTED 01 : this person was rosalie’s high school sweetheart ━ at least to her own knowledge since no one else knew. they were the first person to get passed her cold exterior, the first person after her father’s dath that she opened her heart to. the two messed around, rosalie eventually falling in love despite the two being a secret and regardless of the other never sticking up for her when people badmouthed her at school. rosalie ended up with her heartbroken, the pushing the other away as much as possible. they went from almost knowing each other inside out to complete strangers once again. rosalie considers this person someone she dislikes and wants nothing to do with.

status: OPEN

WANTED 02 : one of rosalie’s soft spots. they have a cliche moment where she calls the other an idiot and the reply back is “but i’m your idiot,” and they wouldn’t be wrong about it.

status: OPEN

WANTED 03 : just someone who can be soft with her even though she’s horrible at emotions ━ emotionally constipated is what she is, honestly. she’s another person she has a soft spot for one the down low, would do anything for them, but can’t exactly put into words how much they mean to her. platonic soulmates, actual soulmates. they’re the type to hang out until it’s one in the morning and rosalie is nodding off on their shoulder peacefully.

status: OPEN

WANTED 04 : a person she can bicker with. rosalie needs to have the last word, a routine she got into when she couldn’t answer her brother back without some repercussion and her witty insults were the only thing in between her and her classmates. she finds this person annoying, sometimes unbearable to be around, but she wouldn’t consider them someone she dislikes or hates. their conversation just has a lot of eye rolls and blank expressions on rosalie’s part, almost too blunt with them.

status: OPEN

WANTED 05 : a roommate. pretty simple and to the point. someone that rosalie lives with. their relationship can depend on a multitude of things, but starting her life in new york from scratch would more than likely still have her living in a (nice) apartment some years later.

status: OPEN

#ungodly:intro

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the-delta-42 · 3 years

Text

In Plain Sight Ch. 1

In Plain Sight

Chapter 1: Autobot

Fortune scowled at the Autobots around her, after seeing Starscream execute a ship full of neutrals, she’d been questioning her place amongst the Decepticons. She’d been a gladiator in the pits of Kaon, she’d earnt her name by winning her battles through ‘luck’. It wasn’t luck, she had an advanced battle processor.

She was small, silent, fast and deadly. She was built for war and when tensions died down, she’d been tossed aside, left to rust and perish. Then she’d met Megatron, the revolutionary leader that Cybertron needed, he already had the loyal following of Soundwave, Shockwave and Starscream. Ironhide, Deadlock and Jetfire both deserted to join the Autobots, and Fortune had cursed them to the pit for what she saw a cowardice.

Now she was making that same choice herself, she stood before the gates of Iacon and stared. Megatron was about to interrogate a scout that had been captured, Bumblebee if she remembered correctly, and when he had made his intentions known, Fortune fired on her Lord. Saving the scout but damning herself in the process.

Bumblebee was speaking with a red and blue Mech, while a rose-coloured Femme stood not far away. The Mech approached her and Fortune noticed that she was roughly half his size.

“Fortune,” Said the Mech, his voice deep and rumbling, “Bumblebee has informed me of your wish to defect.”

“It’s not like I have a choice, is it?” Snarked Fortune, “Seeing that I shot my Lord in defence of the bugs skid plates.”

“Bumblebee has also told me that you have been questioning your place amongst the Decepticons for some time.” Continued the Mech, as if Fortune never spoke.

Fortune didn’t say anything, only grasping her right arm with her left hand and looked resolutely at the ground. The Femme that had been talking to Bumblebee had made her way over to the Mech.

“What’s your name, young one?” Asked the Femme, stopping next to the Mech.

“Everyone calls me Fortune.” Said Fortune, locking optics with the Femme.

“But what’s your name?” Said the Femme, stressing the ‘your’.

“LB-14.” Said Fortune, looking down.

“She’s a Warrior, Prime,” Came Ironhide’s voice, “She was in the Pits.”

The Mech, Prime, slowly looked from Ironhide to Fortune, “LB-14, we Autobots are not Soldiers designed for war, anyone with battle experience and training is absolutely necessary to our cause.”

“Why?” Asked Fortune, tilting her helm, “Lord Megatron told everyone about how you stole the Matrix from the Core of Cybertron, Lord Prime.”

“What’s with this whole ‘Lord’ scrap?” Asked a red mech with horns.

“Lord Prime is of Higher station.” Said Fortune, as Prime stiffened.

“Your Spark was forged during the Quintesson War,” Said Prime, his voice light with wonder, “You’ve probably been in stasis until recently.”

“If by ‘recently’ you mean a good couple of thousand stellar cycles before this war kicked off, then yeah, I was.” Snapped Fortune, scowling at Prime.

“Perhaps introductions are in order, LB-14,” Said Prime, looking down at her, “I am Optimus Prime, these are my chief Lieutenants, Ratchet, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl, Bumblebee, Blaster and Elita-One.”

Fortune looked around, already knowing most of their names from intelligence files she’d snagged from Soundwave, “Where’s Jetfire? Since he’s the only known Autobot that can fly.”

“Jetfire has been sent on a mission at my request.” Said Optimus, starting to turn, “Cliffjumper, could you please find CN-15?”

Cliffjumper, the red Mech with horns, nodded and left.

“Why didn’t you just order him to do that?” Asked Fortune, frowning, “You’re the Prime, literally the King or Emperor or whatever our fragging head of state is called.”

“If I do not present my comrades with the respect and kindness, I expect them to show to others, I would not be a good leader.” Said Optimus, as Cliffjumper returned with a black Mech with bright green optics.

“LB!” Yelled CN-15, rushing towards her and pulling her into a crushing hug, “I thought you’d been offlined!”

“Why would you think that?” Asked Fortune, as the spikes on CN’s helm tilted downwards.

“Megatron’s been hunting us all down, one by one, some, Like HM-12 and QB-18, have joined him and those that didn’t, like RR-16 and JT-01 were killed, I only survived because the Autobots found me before the Decepticons did.” Said CN-15, as Fortune’s wings flopped downwards.

“H-how’d you find out?” Asked Fortune, unable to believe that the Lord she’d served faithfully had murdered her brethren.

“A security recording from RR-16 was recovered.” Said CN-15, “I got in contact with the other two and they tricked me into meeting with them. Megatron was there and he demanded I bow down to him. I refused, the only reason I’m still alive is because of Bumblebee.”

Fortune felt a hand on her shoulder, Ratchet started to guide her to the Medical Bay, “I want to run a complete diagnostic on you, Primus knows what those ‘medics’ in the pits did for you.”

Fortune looked down at herself, the black with red splotches looked wrong now.

“Could you, could you also see about changing my colour?” Asked Fortune, making Ratchet freeze for a moment.

“Jazz, we may need your assistance!” Yelled Ratchet, as Jazz rushed to them.

“Sweet!” Cheered Jazz, as he and Ratchet disappeared with the Femme.

IPS

The war had consumed Cybertron, leading to Optimus to order all Autobots to leave Cybertron and search for the All Spark, which had been launched into space at the start of the war. LB-14 and CN-15 joined Optimus and the other members of Team Prime in searching the stars for the cube. LB-14 had struck up a powerful friendship with Elita-One, eventually seeing her as a sister she never had. Elita had been offlined in the wars final days, she’d been expecting a sparkling. LB had met three of the four younglings Optimus and Elita had, the eldest being Skyfyre, she’d taken command of the femme taskforce when her Carrier was offlined, Ultimus, who’d taken command of the Wreckers, and Tempest, who’d taken her carriers place as the commanding officer over the guardian sentinels that were now all destroyed, save for one. The oldest of the four, LB had met back when she was a Decepticon, he’d sided with Megatron, taking to calling himself Nemesis or something along those lines.

Since Optimus and Elita’s eldest had turned his back on his family, Ultimus had been chosen to take his place as the one to replace Optimus when his time came.

LB was drawn from her musing when a light flash from the Earth.

“Bumblebee has found the boy.” Said Ironhide, shifting his weight, as the other Autobots started for the pods, “This better be worth it.”

LB hopped into her pod, CN getting into the one next to her.

“Everyone remember their directives,” Said Optimus, as the Autobots nodded, “LB-14 and CN-15 are to rendezvous with Hot Rod in France, Arcee, Cliffjumper and Bulkhead are to set up a base for us while the rest of us will join up with Bumblebee and retrieve the cube.”

LB and CN nodded and plotted coordinates for Paris.

“Stay safe, Soldiers.” Said Optimus, as they launched towards Earth, “Move out.”

IPS

Alya quietly seethed as Chloe sauntered away to that stupid yellow car her ‘daddy’ bought her. Nino gently guided Alya away from the blonde-haired she-demon that cropped up a few months back. Alya was so busy fuming, she didn’t see the meteor falling to the Earth. Alya suddenly felt Nino grab her and pull her to the side, just as the meteor hit the school.

Everyone stared at the hole in the front of the school, Alya thought she heard a scream and ran inside, Nino calling after her. Another meteor clipped the roof of the school, before impacting on the playing field.

Alya skidded to a stop at the sight of the meteor, and the source of the scream, Alix was crouched near the meteor, curled into a ball. Alya heard Nino slip on the stones behind her, both made their way over to Alix, carefully guiding her out of the small area she’d been hiding in. The three teens froze as they heard a cracking sound, all knowing that it was the ceiling and, as a result, the floor above them. There was a snap, and the three teens were in a pair of giant metal hands. Two bright blue eyes looked down at them.

“Tvg lfg lu sviv!” Yelled the owner of the hands, throwing the teenagers out of the wreck.

It was a giant robot that was red with black dots decorating its armour. The robot carefully made it’s way to the court yard, where it then produced a gun and fire some shots through the ceiling, before climbing out of the hole it made.

IPS

LB was berating herself; her orders were to land somewhere out of sight, not crash into a building and reveal herself to three locals. She carefully lowered herself to the ground and looked around for a vehicle to scan, she froze when she spotted one, a red sports car that had a black and white stripe running from the bonnet to the boot.

LB scanned the car and transformed, before driving off to the agreed coordinates to meet with CN-15 and Hot Rod.

A black sports car with green highlight drew level with her.

“Low profile, huh?” Asked CN-15, getting a growl from LB-14.

“I mis-judged my trajectory when I entered the atmosphere, okay?” Retorted LB-14, as they approached the alley that Hot Rod was waiting for them in.

“What happened?” Asked Hot Rod, ducking behind an abandoned building as fire engines raced past.

“We got our trajectory wrong on entry, we may have made a bit of a scene.” Said LB, joining Hot Rod in robot mode.

CN-15 transformed and looked around, making sure they weren’t spotted.

“We have some humans for you to stay with,” Said Hot Rod, pulling up a map, “LB-14, you’ll be going to the Dupain-Cheng’s, CN-15, you’ll be going to the Agreste’s. Prime didn’t explain your presence to us, but the Order has made accommodations as well as charges.”

LB-14 made note of the Dupain-Cheng’s location, before transforming and driving there. LB internally winced at the sight of the school and the massive hole in the front of it. She activated her holo-form and entered the bakery, looking up as a bell rang.

“Hello, how can we help you today?” Asked a short, kind faced Asian woman, looking at Marinette.

“I’m looking for the Dupain-Chengs,” Said LB, looking around, “A… colleague said that I’d be expected here.”

“I take it you were the one who put that hole in the school.” Said the woman, getting a wince from LB, “I’m Sabine, Hot Rod said you’d be arriving.”

“I’m LB-14.” Said LB, getting a slight frown from Sabine.

“I assume that you’re the sports car out our front.” Said Sabine, making LB turn and look at her vehicle mode, which was surrounded by teenagers taking pictures of it.

“I can move.” Said LB, before Sabine stopped her.

“No, we don’t have self-driving cars here and your hologram is too young to be driving.” Said Sabine, just as one of the teens produced a key and scraped it across the cars paint work.

LB-14 stiffened, before her holoform flickered and the alarm started blaring, making the group of teenagers run away. LB went outside and checked the damage, silently cursing under her breath. Sabine walked out and looked at the scratch mark.

“I’m certain my mother-in-law can fix it without a problem.” Said Sabine, carefully guiding LB back into the shop.

IPS

CN-15 watched as Gabriel and Emilie argued.

“He can’t stay in the house, otherwise people are going to ask where a teenager came from.” Said Gabriel, before CN looked over at Emilie.

“I just don’t think that the garage is warm enough.” Countered Emilie, before CN intervened.

“Mrs. Agreste, I’m not one to complain about temperature, in fact the only time I’d ever feel cold is if I was in this planet’s polar region.” Said CN, making Gabriel look triumphant, “Besides, LB and I are waiting on further orders from Prime.”

“Who?” Asked Gabriel, frowning.

“LB-14 and I are here on orders from our leader, Optimus Prime.” Said CN-15, as a red Ferrari drove up the drive.

The Ferrari got within a few feet of the group, before transforming into robot mode. LB-15 looked at a scratch on her arm, before scowling.

“I’ve already decided, I don’t like this world.” Said LB, her scowl deepening.

“Why, what happened?” Asked CN, looking at his partner.

LB raised her arm to show him the scratch, “Some meat bag scratched me!”

CN was silent, before looking in her optics, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, that was my reaction too!” Exclaimed LB, walking in circles.

“What are we going to do about the humans?” Asked CN, making LB stop.

“They completely slipped my mind.” Confessed the femme, looking embarrassed.

“We need to alert Optimus, perform some semblance of damage control.” Continued CN, making LB wince.

“Really?” Asked LB, looking indignant.

“I’ll deal with the boy; I suggest you handle the girls.” Said CN, his logic circuits already taking control.

“Then what?” Asked LB, frowning, “Prime would want us to report on the children, and if any Decepticons saw us with them.”

“Prime’s rendezvousing with Bumblebee and other members of his team.” Said CN, starting to contact Optimus.

“Prime, we have a little problem.” Said CN-15, as LB-14 winced.

IPS

Alya looked up at the hole in the front of the school, the robot from the day before still on her mind. Alya lurched forwards, as Chloe sauntered past her, smirking. Her bright yellow Lamborghini sticking out like a sore thumb. Two more sports cars pulled up, one a black and green Lamborghini and the other a red and black Ferrari. Alya squinted and spotted the strange face symbol on both of them. The same symbol had been present on the robot’s shoulder. In the blink of an eye, two teenagers were standing in front of the cars, appearing out of thin air.

Alya bit back and gasp, as the girl looked straight at her and mouthed, “Stay there.”

Within a couple of seconds, both teens were standing either side of Alya, the girl frowned and looked around.

“Where are the other two?” Asked the girl, her voice identical to the robots.

Alya didn’t say anything, silently panicking, thinking the two had come to silence her before she could tell anyone.

“Alya?” Asked Ms. Bustier, approaching the three, the boy and girl looking at the teacher, “Oh, I didn’t realise we had some new students today, I’m Ms. Bustier.”

“Adrien.” Said the boy.

“Marinette.” Said the girl.

“Do either of you have surnames, or shall I just call you Marinette and Adrien?” Asked Ms. Bustier, as she guided the three towards her classroom. Alya quickly made her way to her seat, while ‘Marinette’ and ‘Adrien’ were left standing at the front of the classroom, while Ms. Bustier checked the register.

“It seems you two aren’t fully enrolled yet, but” Said Ms. Bustier, as both hidden Autobots groaned, “I’m sure the Principle won’t have a problem with you sitting in on today’s lessons.”

Marinette immediately clocked Alya, as well as the bespectacled boy from yesterday, before spotting the pink haired girl as well. Marinette sat herself next to Alya, while Adrien dropped himself into the seat next the spectacled boy.

“Hey, I’m Nino.” Said the boy, holding his fist out to Adrien.

“Adrien.” Said Adrien, before looking at the fist. After a moment, Adrien wrapped his hand around the fist and shook it.

Marinette leaned towards Alya and whispered, “We need to talk, urgently.”

Alya paled, feeling that whoever, or whatever, Marinette was, she knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Marinette twisted in her seat, looking around the classroom, her eyes pausing on a Vietnamese boy who looked familiar, as if she’d seen him on Cybertron.

The day, for Alya, passed far too quickly, why did it have to be Friday?

Adrien and Marinette lead Alya and Nino behind the school, unknowingly having Kim and Alix follow them. Nino stared at the two cars, confused, while Alya had started crying.

“What’s that thing you’re doing with your face-plates?” Asked Marinette, confused.

“W-we won’t tell anyone!” Wept Alya, making Marinette understand what she thought they meant.

“We’re not going to kill you.” Said Marinette, just as she flickered out of existence, Adrien doing the same the next second.

Nino jumped back, while Alya fell backwards, before the two cars started shifting their parts and, a second later, two robots stood before them, one male and one female.

“Whoa.” Said Nino, as the red one knelt down.

“Hey, we aren’t going to harm you,” Said the female robot, “It’s, kinda, against the rules. I’m LB-14, this is my partner, CN-15.”

Alya took several deep breaths, the two robots looking down at her and Nino.

“LB, what, like Ladybug?” Asked Alya, after calming down and climbing to her feet.

“What?” Asked LB, before CN-15 snorted.

“Ladybug, suits you.” Said CN, his laughter starting to shake his frame.

“What does CN stand for?” Asked Nino, making CN-15 look down.

“It’s my designation, my name.” Explained CN, frowning.

“Well, if she gets a new name, you should get one too.” Said Nino, frowning, “You’re black and I think Lamborghini’s purr… Chat Noir!”

Ladybug started laughing, as CN thought it over.

“Chat Noir… I like it!” Said Chat Noir, his optics brightening.

“Whoa, you came back!” Yelled Alix, running forwards, leaving Kim behind.

Ladybug’s optics zeroed on the other human, before he flickered out, “Oh, slag.”

“What?” Asked Chat, looking at the Femme.

“That extra human was a holoform!” Cried Ladybug, starting to run to the mouth of the alley.

Just as she did, a light brown jeep tore into the area, before transforming and tackling both Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“You won’t believe how happy I am to see you guys!” Yelled the mech, laughing.

“RS-17?” Asked Ladybug, tilting her head.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been going by King Monkey now, you know,” Said King Monkey, grinning, “new start, new me.”

“This is going to be a headache.” Said Ladybug, frowning, before looking up, “I’ll contact Optimus, until then, everyone pick a partner and stay with them.”

King Monkey immediately grabbed Alix, while Chat picked up Nino.

“I guess you’re with me.” Said Ladybug, collapsing into her sports car alt.

Alya nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of the car. The three Autobots drove out of the alley, unknowingly being watched by Chloe Bourgeois.

“Where are we going?” Asked Alya, as she shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

“We’re taking you to our base, where we’ll then receive transport to take you to our leader.” Said Ladybug, as the three Autobots pulled into the driveway of the Agreste home. The driveway lowered its end, creating a ramp for the Autobots to go down into. Alya tried not to gape at the sight of the humans, and some other robots, in an underground base.

“The funny thing is, this isn’t our main base,” Said Ladybug, as Alya rubbed her eyes, “Ratchet, we’re ready for a bridge.”

A swirling green vortex appeared before them and the Autobots drove through.

Ladybug, Chat Noir and King Monkey all stopped, allowing their charges to step put before transforming. Alya looked around, she counted eight more Autobots, all of varying sizes. The tallest, a red a blue male looking robot, stepped forwards.

“Are these the humans that you encountered, LB-14?” Asked the robot, his voice deep and full of wisdom.

“Yes, sir.” Said Ladybug, shifting slightly.

“Ladybug actually saved up.” Said Nino, getting the robot to look at him.

“I’m sorry, ‘Ladybug’?” Asked the robot, as Ladybug shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, LB-14 made her sound like some kind of drone, so we started calling her Ladybug, the same with Chat Noir.” Said Alix, as Chat squirmed as well.

“If that is what wish to be called, then you may adopt those designations,” Said the robot, before turning back to the humans, “My name is Optimus Prime, we are Autonomous Robotic Organisms from the Planet Cybertron.”

IPS

Ladybug dropped Alya off outside the block of flats where her home was located. Optimus had introduced each member of the team, before explaining the Autobot’s presence on Earth and what Ladybug and Chat Noir were doing in Paris.

“So, you’re here to hunt for ‘energon’?” Asked Alya, looking at Ladybug’s dashboard.

“Yeah, there’s an unusually large deposit of it underneath the city,” Said Ladybug, the dash lighting up when she spoke, “I’m actually surprised there aren’t any Decepticons nearby, given how much there is.”

Two Cybertronians stood hidden, watching Ladybug speak with the human.

“At lease we know that Shockwave’s cloaks work.” Said a Yellow Femme, her optics a cold blue.

“We just need to find a way of getting the Autobots away from here.” Said a tall purple Mech, his optics the colour of ice.

“I’m sure we’ll get them away, soon enough.” Said the Femme, before pressing her fingers to the side of her head, “Queen Bee, here, tell Lord Megatron that we’ve found a lead to the energon readings, as well as one of our turncoats.”

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missmalice202 · 5 years

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Designing Your Melody: Chapter 11 - Cupid’s Arrow

Chapter 01 - Chapter 10

“Today’s the day,” Marinette uttered nervously, pressing a hand against her churning stomach in a fruitless attempt to untie the knots her insides were tied in. Her nerves were stretched to the limit, ready to snap. She gazed up at the building where her fashion show would take place in a few short hours. She wasn’t ready to go inside. Not until her knees stopped trembling, at least.

She’d been a quivering mess since she woke up this morning. The countless hours of work had all led up to this moment. This was the goal she’d been working toward all these years. Every drop of blood, each drip of sweat, every single sleepless night spent hunched over her sewing machine had been for this chance to showcase her talents and hopefully catch the eye of a famous fashion house that would want to take her on as a designer.

Hands shaking, she gripped the strap of her purse in a futile attempt to steady them.

When a warm arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, she shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning in place to view her attacker, she lost her balance and nearly fell over.

“Easy there, Marinette,” Adrien chuckled, hands gripping her arms to keep her on her feet. He gazed at her as she inhaled deeply, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. “Are you going to be okay?”

Stepping back out of his personal space, she closed her eyes and counted to three, opening them once again to observe her friend.

He’d grown into a truly handsome man. His shining blond hair was artfully styled into deceptively careless disarray, a few wayward strands falling over his brow and into his vivid green eyes. Mouth pulled into a devious smirk, she heard him continue to laugh at her clumsiness. She pouted a bit at how truly handsome he was. It wasn’t fair for someone to be so damn good-looking.

“I’m fine,” she bit, annoyed that he had once again caught her unravelling at the seams. “I’m just a little nervous.”

He laughed. “A little? When I touched you, you nearly came out of your skin.”

“You just startled me, is all.”

Once more, Adrien chuckled softly at her. “You’ll do great. The hard part is already over. Now,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders once more, encouraging her to go inside with him, “let’s do this, Marinette.”

Gathering her courage, she held her head high and stepped inside.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

“Mlle. DuPain-Cheng, music starts in twenty minutes,” the producer – a severe-looking woman with auburn hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun - informed her, clipboard firmly in her hand. “Are your models ready?”

Glancing behind her at her friends, she smiled and nodded her head. She had just finished helping Juleka dress in her first outfit: a tunic length purple sweater with a wide cowl neck that exposed Juleka’s slender shoulders and black floral print leggings. Completing the ensemble was a pair of knee-high platform boots.

Adrien stood next to her looking absolutely dashing in a deep green, v-neck t-shirt, a casual pin-striped blazer emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. Dark washed jeans and white sneakers completed his look. If she had seen him in an outfit like this when she had still been infatuated with him, she would have gushed about how the color of his shirt perfectly matched his eyes and how the blazer drew attention to his perfect butt…

But she wasn’t still infatuated with him, so she’d keep those thoughts to herself, she mused.

“You guys look amazing,” she said happily. “Thank you so much for helping me today, guys. I really appreciate it.”

Juleka smiled softly and said, “No, Marinette, thank you for giving me an opportunity to walk down the catwalk. You’re helping me as much as I’m helping you. I even asked my brother to come today so he could see me model in your show. He was so proud of me when I told him I was going to be modelling during Fashion Week and it’s all thanks to you.. With as much attention as you’re sure to get with your fabulous clothes, I’ll get to shine along side you as your model.” She giggled softly as she cocked her hip out. “With clothes as cute as these, there’s no way they’re not going to love you.”

“She’s right, you know.” Adrien reached over and rested his elbow on Juleka’s shoulder, grinning at her. “You’re going to be a smash hit, my Lady. You’re not alone here. Alya is covering your show for her blog, Nino’s up in the DJ booth cuing up the music as we speak, and don’t forget your parents out in the audience. We’re all here for you and we’re so proud of you.”

“Thanks, guys.” Reassured from her friends’ kind words, she shook her head and focused on the task at hand.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

In the audience, Luka was waiting patiently for the show to begin. Looking around, he saw a few familiar faces, which put him at ease. Across the room, up in the DJ booth, Nino had his headphones on, jamming out the music only he could hear as he got his set list ready for the show. Wondering at the small world he lived in, he spotted Alya Cesaire, Nino’s girlfriend, sitting in the front row, taking pictures with her cell phone and excitedly tapping away on the screen. Must be doing a story on Fashion Week for her blog, he thought. He’d run into her a few times when he and Nino had collaborated together on a project.

Personally, he was excited to see his sister in her first fashion show. Really was proud of how much she’s grown in the past few years. When she had first told him she wanted to be a model, he supported her dream whole-heartedly, but worried whether someone as introverted as she could make it in such a cut-throat business.

His worries had been unnecessary. She had proved all who doubted her wrong and had been steadily finding work doing magazine ads and even appearing on a few billboards recently. But nothing could compare to this. Even though it was for an unknown designer, being able to put that she’d modeled in a Fashion week show would open a lot of doors for her modeling career and he wished nothing but the best for his beloved sister. He’d be there to watch over her, after all.

When the lights dimmed, he sat up, eyes focused on the raised catwalk and waited to see his sister. Techno music pounded through the once silent room, increasing the energy level in the room with is solid base beat.

Behind a screen at the entrance of the stage, he saw a feminine silhouette appear, striking a sassy pose with her hip cocked and her hand behind her head. His mouth gaped as he watched his sister - his shy, mild mannered sister – strut down the lane, hair billowing behind her and her eyes on fire. He could barely recognize his sibling in this fierce woman posing at the end of the walk, showcasing the outfit she was wearing.

When she disappeared backstage, the screen illuminated again, this time outlining a male model. His eyes widened when he recognized the man from advertisements plastered with his face all over the city. It was Adrien Agreste, the face of his father’s internationally branded fashion line. Screams erupted in the room as the audience recognized the handsome model strutting down the catwalk with the grace and intensity of a panther.

The designer responsible for this show was very smart to use him for their show, he decided. Come morning, their designs would be plastered all over social media and possibly even the news now that Adrien Agreste was the one wearing them. And his sister would be piggy-backing on top of that fame, launching her own career into possible fame.

Once the blond model retreated backstage to prepare his next outfit, Luka watched as his sister once again took the stage, wearing a completely different ensemble. How they changed her entire look in less than two minutes was absolutely astounding. It must be pure chaos behind the scenes, he mused.

However, his amusement faded as he continued to watch the show. With each ensemble that was shown, his eyes narrowed further. He recognized some of these clothes. He’d seen them taped to the wall when he’d delivered that fabric to his designer.

It’s impossible, he thought to himself. There’s no way such coincidences exist.

Still denying the possibility that the girl he’d been looking for for so long was the one who was responsible for the show that his sister was modeling in, his jaw dropped when Adrien walked out in his final look: the embroidered blazer that Luka had seen hanging on the mannequin.

Suspicions confirmed, he grinned, disbelieving his luck. Now, he wouldn’t have to try to track her down. He found her without even knowing he’d done it. Even better, his sister already knew his elusive designer and could introduce her to him after the show.

He whistled under his breath when he saw the show’s final piece. Juleka came out dressed in a gorgeous dress. The strapless top shimmered with beads under the bright stage lights. A silver-buckled black satin belt transitioned into a full skirt. The outer layer of black satin contrasted beautifully with the deep purple satin lining, visible due to the front of the skirt ending at Juleka’s thighs and the back cascading down to the floor. Opaque black stockings covered her exposed legs and protected the modesty of his sister, which he was secretly grateful for.

She gracefully walked to the end of the catwalk where Adrien was waiting for her. With a final pose, the two models leaned into each other with wide smiles in response to the roaring applause thundering through the room. turning toward the entrance of the stage, they waved, gesturing for someone to join them.

Tearing his eyes away from his stunning sister, his breath caught when the designer stepped on stage. He could almost hear the twang as he felt a punch in the gut, like he’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow.

She was petite and slender, her limbs willowy and graceful as she joined her models. Her dark hair shined blue under the lights, pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck with a few tendrils escaping to caress her neck. Her bright, blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stood proudly next to her designs. Pink lips stretched into a grin as she reached her hands out to either side of her and took her companion’s hands. With a final smile at the audience, the trio bowed, thanked the audience for their praise, and escaped backstage.

Luka was stunned. How on earth had he missed how pretty she was when she crashed into him that first day? In his defense, she had been in such a hurry and so he hadn’t had the chance to get a good look at her, but had he really been so oblivious?

Unable to wait another minute to finally meet his elusive muse – and congratulate his sister on a job well done – he rose from his seat and made his way back stage, eager to be introduced to the blue-eyed beauty responsible for the music pounding in his head.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Chapter 12

*OMG, It’s almost time! He knows! Aaaaah! Hahaha, sorry. I’m just really excited for these two to get some time together in the same room. Next time, I promise! But things aren’t going to go so easily for them once they do meet face-to-face mwahahaha!

Once again, thanks for taking the time to read this and give me your likes and reblogs. Leave me a reply about what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’d like to see. Your feedback gives me fuel to better myself and my writing.

Until next time, my lovelies, XOXO*

@write-for-your-life2

#lukanette #lukanette february #mlvalentines2k20 #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette fic #lukanette fanfiction #miraculous fanfic

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greyias · 4 years

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FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 11

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | Crossposted to AO3

All-in-all, Darok was not gone at all that long. Just a few minutes if that.

Maybe he went to the refresher, Theron thought to himself sarcastically. Just couldn’t hold it another minute.

By the time the colonel returned, Theron had busied himself back at the terminal. He caught the movement in the reflection of the monitor and made a mental note of the time. It hadn’t been enough to make more than a quick call, although the question of to who remained. Most of the comm traffic going in and out of Carrick Station was either monitored or secured. If it had been on official channels, there would be a log of it somewhere. Another item for Theron’s ever expanding to-do list once he had the freedom to begin his investigation.

That would be soon.

Not long after Darok had made his reappearance, they’d gotten word from the team on the ground that the battle had been won. Tython was theirs again, but it had come at a high cost. There was cleanup work to be done — major cleanup work. It would take months to repair or rebuild what the bombings had destroyed. To say nothing of the fatalities they were currently tallying.

That uncomfortable feeling in Theron’s chest was trying to settle back in, and he still didn’t have the time nor energy to spend on it. Part of Theron wished he had an unobstructed view of the temple from the armorcams of Darok’s men, but he still wanted to keep a low profile. From his position, he could only catch glimpses of what was mostly wreckage. Unless he went and joined Darok at the holotable, there was no chance he could look at any of the faces of the dead. Perhaps that was for the best. Outside of Hashimuut, Theron hadn’t spent much time among large groups of Jedi. It had mostly just Master Zho and him. Easier to focus on the larger picture if he didn’t try to individual faces. Or maybe just one face in particular. But he wasn’t thinking about that right now.

Instead he busied himself with sorting through the data that Teeseven fed him. The rest of Highwind’s team had been put to work with the rescue crews, and the little faithful astromech had begun the long arduous process of sifting through the wreckage to try and salvage what was left of the temple’s security footage and data.

If there was anything to salvage at all. Theron pursed his lips, seeing the fragments of code he would have to sort through later. Piecing together exactly what had happened was going to be a massive undertaking.

That left one last wildcard in this situation: Highwind herself.

Apparently she had ordered Bickell and his men to keep all of the prisoners secured until a team of SIS agents could begin questioning them. Theron found it interesting that she was attempting to direct the investigation work over to his branch rather than leave any interrogation to SpecOps. Perhaps that meant she trusted Theron more than Darok with this. The colonel himself had only grunted with just the barest amount of disgruntlement at the announcement, as if the fate of the prisoners on the ground didn’t matter to him at all. Like he’d already gotten what he wanted.

Theron was still musing on that, and the other little mysteries surrounding his asset when she strode in with all of the force (and Force) of a Jedi to be reckoned with. Her strides were measured and deliberate, setting a quick pace that made her cape billow behind her as she once again commanded the attention of the entire room. Perhaps it was in the stern set of her jaw, or the way her attention zeroed in on Darok. Maybe it was just something in her eyes, a dangerous glint that a less observant person might pick up on. Whatever it was, Theron was almost glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her attention at the moment. Maybe that was the look that Doc had kept mentioning.

“Master Jedi, good to see you,” Darok said smoothly, standing up to his full height. “Our forces are sweeping the rest of the muck off of Tython as we speak.”

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, as her brows drew down into an unhappy expression. Yeah, no. Theron wasn’t saving Darok from whatever storm was brewing in the Jedi’s intense gaze. In fact, he would’ve broken out the bangcorn if he’d had any on hand.

“Tell me, Colonel, this muck you speak of. Are you referring to the devastation wrought upon my temple? Or perhaps the people we’ve taken prisoner?”

Darok’s lips pressed into a thin line as his wide shoulders raised up in indignation. He apparently did not like being called out on his behavior. Not that it was the first time that Theron had heard that sort of comment from the military. He was pretty sure that not even the Jedi were so perfect as to keep that sort of sentiment tamped down completely.

For all his bluster, the colonel seemed smart enough to not fall into the trap of clarifying his comment, and instead just snorted out a breath before forcing a grim smile onto his face. “You will be glad to hear that reconstruction crews are already being prepped.”

“That is good news,” she said evenly. “It sounds like you have been busy over here.”

“The Jedi homeworld coming under attack tends to garner a lot of attention from Republic command,” he agreed. “The Imps caught us by surprise, but it could have been a lot worse. Thanks in no small part to your leadership.”

The flattery seemed to fall on deaf ears as Highwind just crossed her arms, fixing the larger man with that same intense stare. “I have been meditating as you suggested, Colonel.”

Confusion stole across Darok’s face, as he tried to recall whenever he’d made that sort of suggestion. “I don’t—”

“You said that after we recovered Tython that I should meditate on the coincidences of today. I spent my time on the journey here doing just that.”

“Have you now?”

“Yes, on the timing of our attack and the Empire’s. They must have happened almost simultaneously. That is a remarkable coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Darok rumbled. “For them to launch an assault of this magnitude speaks of a robust intelligence network. Perhaps Imperial Intelligence isn’t quite as devastated as we have been led to believe. I am sure the SIS will determine how we managed to miss so many red flags.”

It was a comment designed to rile Theron. Another mark of a con. Keep the targets off balance. Keep them emotional. Nice try, but he wasn’t falling for it. That said, it didn’t take much to lace a good amount of anger and indignation into his tone. “Yes. We’ll get right on that.”

Highwind’s gaze briefly flicked away from Darok to study Theron, but the action was too quick for him to decipher it.

“All the same,” Darok continued on, “your work has been exemplary — gaining us two back-to-back victories. You are a hero and that deserves recognition.”

“A Jedi does not need to seek recognition. The act of doing what is right is enough.” Stars, she sounded like a recruitment pamphlet. Well. If the Jedi had recruitment pamphlets.

The colonel didn’t seem to hear her, as he pulled out a box that had been delivered during her return flight and held it out as if for inspection. She eyed the box with the same amount of skepticism that Theron had on its arrival, but her lack of enthusiasm didn’t make an impact on the show that Darok was putting on. Without another word, he opened it up to reveal a glinting, ornate medal.

The medal was just shiny and distracting enough that neither of them were paying close enough attention to see Theron’s startled reaction at its appearance. Had that been what Darok had disappeared off to take care of? No. It couldn’t have been. That had happened before Tython had been successfully recovered. That would have meant Darok would have had to arrange for the medal before there was a victory to award it for. Or… or perhaps that was Darok’s cover story. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been any mention of the teams that had remained behind on Korriban. Had they made it out safely? And if they hadn’t, why hadn’t Darok brought it up? Why was he so focused on branding today as a day of victory?

If Theron voiced his thoughts aloud they would sound utterly paranoid. This whole thing would sound paranoid. But no… there was something here. Theron would need to comb through whatever communication logs he could get his hands on to verify.

“This is the medal of valor. One of the Republic’s most prestigious commendations.” Perfect. She could hang it up next her Cross of Glory and whatever other trinkets she’d collected over the course of her overly heroic career. “The Chancellor herself wanted me to present this to you. She was truly impressed with your heroic actions today, just as I am. Congratulations.”

One dark blonde brow arched high as she glanced between Darok and his offering. The colonel continued to hold out the medal and its rather ornate box, and as the moment began to stretch out, the more awkwardness and tension built. Finally, she blew out a breath and accepted the box, shutting the lid without giving its contents a second look.

“My crew, Bickell, and the rest of your men deserve just as much recognition for their work on Tython,” she said, managing to sound almost diplomatic. “Perhaps more.”

“They do,” Darok agreed, “but your name is the one that lights up the HoloNet. Especially considering this particular commendation has never been awarded as quick before.”

A flicker of that shadow appeared in her eyes again, before she successfully smoothed her expression back into that Jedi placidity. “I am more interested in speaking of what happened today than the headline that will lead on RNN tonight.”

“It’s hard to leave an operation,” he rumbled, “we’ve all been there. But your part in this is done now. You should focus on your victory and all the rewards that come with it.”

“I do not need a medal,” she said firmly, “what I need are answers. We need to find the person responsible for what happened today and bring them to justice.”

“We have all of the information you gathered,” Darok’s smooth, complimentary tone began to harden. “I’m sure we’ll be able to identify them soon enough.”

“There’s also the matter of a Sith lord that I spoke to on the holo in the Council’s chambers. I told Bickell about it,” she continued on, as if she hadn’t heard the shift in tone. “Before the Sith realized I was not his compatriot he was talking about a package that had been secured.”

“Maybe they just took the opportunity to grab a few things,” the colonel, his words coming out in a tight clip.

“We need to identify who this Sith is and what he wants. He said something about—”

Now that she was on a roll, Highwind kept going as if she needed to be heard. As she did so, Darok’s frown settled in deeper and deeper. The large man’s shoulders bunched up, big meaty fists settling on his hips while his lips pressed together in a line.

For all of her keen observations and quick thinking in the field, right now Highwind was like a Sibian hound that had caught a scent. So fixated on her goal, the Jedi wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and appeared to be almost oblivious to the danger practically tingling in the air. Nor did she seem to notice that with each protest she uttered the more predatory the colonel’s expression became. He didn’t seem to like questions.

Theron took several steps back so that he was out of Darok’s line of sight, before he keyed his subvocal mic. “Stop.”

That seemed to take her off guard, and for a moment she looked like she was about to bring attention to the subterfuge. Her protest ended in a lurch as he gaze strayed over Darok’s shoulder to Theron. He didn’t say anything else, just caught her eye and shook his head ever so slowly. They couldn’t talk here.

She pursed her lips together, that Jedi calm driven away as her temper flared in a way that Theron had not expected at all. Then again, she kept finding new ways to surprise him. This was just one more to the tally. Thankfully, though, she relented in pressing on in her line of questioning. Frustration evident, she let out an annoyed sigh before turning her attention back to Darok. He was still eyeing her with a sharp intensity that made Theron’s skin crawl.

“I apologize, Colonel, perhaps you are right,” she said tersely, as if it cost her something to say it. “I suppose that there might be some good to be found in today. I should meditate on that further.”

“That is most wise, Master Highwind,” Darok rumbled, continuing to eye her for several long moments. “I have my own work to do. I’ve been tasked with organizing the Tython cleanup.”

She tipped her head to him in acknowledgement. “I see, that is quite the task. I should not keep you from it.”

“I need to let the Jedi Council know the Republic is behind them. Let them know this is not like Coruscant. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned back to the holotable, completely dismissing the remaining two people in the room as if they weren’t even there.

The tension that had filled the room seemed to dissipate with the action, and Theron quietly let out a breath. He would definitely be adding “stubborn and bullheaded” as a note to Highwind’s file, just as a warning to any future handler. Maybe put in a warning or two about her propensity to take dangerous risks. She was still glaring at the colonel’s back with undisguised suspicion at this point.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, managing to pulling her attention away, “but I need that drink.”

He was eager to leave this damn room and put some distance between them and Darok, so Theron didn’t even wait to see if she followed. He just made a beeline for the bar. If she was as quick on the uptake as she seemed, she’d get the hint.

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #oc: greyias highwind #otp: adorkable #smoke and mirrors #SoR Fic O Doom #swtor #fanfic #greyfic

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societieshq · 5 years

Photo

I WAS DREAMING OF BIGGER THINGS .

another day , and the summer sun starts to set behind a ring of clouds . that doesn’t stop you and your fellow students of halloway from ignoring their responsibilities , and turning the night into a party . it seems as more days passed , we’re starting to lose sight of finding a way back home . instead , with a new leader appointed , you’re less worried about surviving , and excited about living instead . the party is thrown in honor of a new beginning , a new tide , where the rich stay rich , and the poor get what’s left behind . or maybe , it’s just a reason to drink and ignore the fating problems you see on the horizon . maybe , it’s in honor of a new leader , who’s footsteps are echoed with the sound of righteousness , knowing that they will do anything to get what they want . but as the sun sets , the heat only seems to unbearable . wait------ was that thunder ?

WANNA' LEAVE MY OLD LIFE BEHIND .

the students of halloway will be hosting a summer pool party to get away from the heat of the day . it’ll be held at the indoor university pool , with music and kegs stolen from the alleyway bar , and liquor . food will be made during the day , and served in large quantities , most of it likely going to waste by the end of the party . the party has been advertised as optional , but you know deep down that it’s not really a request . if you don’t party , then you work -- and leadership has made it as simple as that .

thunder begins to roll in , and maybe the students are thankful for the possibility of rain . however , as the storm approaches , you’ll notice a change in the atmosphere . it’s suddenly incredibly hot , more so even now that the sun has set . no chance of rain has been gifted from the sky , and instead-- a heat storm has brewed over what’s remaining of halloway . but wait--- this is no ordinary storm , is that lightening green ? thunder crackles , and neon emerald strikes across the sky , leaving you with more questions than you have answers . you’ve never seen anything like this before .

the midst of picked up winds , the power flickers with uncertainty , before everything has gone dark , completely . somehow , you’ve found yourself in a group the moment the lights turned off , and it’s up to you to decide whether or not you stick it through with the people you’re stuck with---- or ignore mother nature’s warning signs entirely .

somehow , even with the event derailed , our party goers aren’t ready to give up the summer fun just yet . after all , if it’s the end of the world- they sure knew how to party like it was . the pool still remains open , and the janitor’s room has been raided for supplies to keep it going . all hands on deck , and the indoor party keeps on keeping on , with glow torches found in the supply room , and an old radio stashed away from the 90′s . with it , all the tracks you’ve had saved on your playlist before , are switched out for burnt cd’s from the early 2000′s , as the power still remains off .

disclaimer : groups are randomized throughout the university , and your muses may interact with people from other groups . it’s simply where they were at , when the lights when off . we’re giving you the creative freedom to write the timeline of the event by your own choice , whether you choose to write before the storm hits , at the pool party , perhaps somewhere else entirely , or during the storm . 01. please remember to run any injuries through the admins before writing them out, as we will have a separate count of three slots available , if interested . these will be minor injuries , in case your muse ventures out into the storm . 02. if venturing outside during the storm keep in mind of some negative and positive visuals and affects your muse may encounter . - extreme heat , a feeling of exhaustion , the summerside dock’s lake has started to boil , hot pavements , green lightening , roaring thunder that seems too close , a sense of feeling unbalanced . + aurora lights , disappeared critters that have suddenly reappeared and don’t seemed to be affected by the heat ( they will disappear after the storm again ) , soft waves of green glowing lightening bugs .

the event will start wednesday 2/19 , 2PM EST - 7PM GMT . it will last until monday 2/24 , until midnight EST . although you may have the option to continue your threads to a stopping point after the given time , if you’d like !

GROUPS ARE AS FOLLOWED .

GYMNASIUM .

‘TAAY’ CHUNTAKETTA

ZACHARIAH ABRAHAM

ARYA HAWKINS

NOLAN KANE

THEODORE ABRAHAM

LECTURE HALL

MAYA MACMILLAN

MARGOT “MAISIE” LIDELL

RYAN KANG

CHANDLER RHODES

MARNI VANROSS

CARMICHAEL LIBRARY

KATHARINE “KITTY” WHITMOR

DAMIEN RILEY

HARRY ROMANO

SYLVIA NYUGEN

LUCIANA ROSSI

THE CAFETERIA

TATUM WEST

WOLFGANG “WOLF” SIMON

BORA REE

JOSIE ‘JO’ LAWRENCE

MARY “MINNIE” MAE

THE UNIVERSITY POOL

SUMMER JAKOBSEN

ANIKA MORALES

ZARA SUMMERS

DYLAN CARMICHAEL

KAROLINA GOULD

STUDY HALL A

ROSIE ASKER

MAXINE “MAX” DUVAL

JULIETTE AGUILAR

VALERIE RIBEIRO

MERCEDES DUNAY

STUDY HALL B

ESME MACMILLAN

REESE DU PONT

“HERO” KELLY

SORAYA MIRANDA

JACK SINGH

please like once you’ve read , and if you have any questions regarding the event ( if we accidentally missed a muse , please don’t hesitate to contact us to correct it ! )

#hallowayevents #AYE !

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mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years

Text

Limerence [M] ︳02

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 4300+ (Chapters will be longer as we go along - trust me).

Notes: As noted before - I plan on re-writing chapters one and two in the future (or after I’m done writing the series), the content will be the same, just written ‘better’. Thanks for the likes and reposts my awesome buns <3

Masterlist ︳01 ︳ 03

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Cheiloproclitic

(English/adj.) Being attracted to a person’s lips.

~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

“Smile - it's the key to unlocking people’s hearts, Zuko.” Uncle Iroh said with a great smile on his face, his hands placed in front of him. I looked at him and scoffed, “What hearts do you think I'll be unlocking during my visit Uncle?”

We stood at the edge of the pier. It was early in the morning, the sun starting to rise and cast a vibrant range of reds and yellows along the water. Everyone was set to depart for our journey to the Southern Water Tribe, well, expect me.

I stood on the dock with Uncle Iroh as the guards and servants stood off to the side, waiting at the ramp for my departure. Uncle Iroh chuckled, shaking his head at my refusal to 'unlock people's hearts'. “It’s an old saying I heard long ago, but I have good feelings about this trip. I feel like you’ll return as a different man.” A tiny smile flickered across my lips as I crossed my arms across my chest, “That’s the point, a nice vacation. Spend some time with old friends.”

I was genuinely excited about the trip but also apprehensive.

The notion of leaving the kingdom for a bit was not unnerving to me; I was leaving the Nation in good hands. Instead, it has been a while since I could relax, and I wondered if I could even handle such a simple task anymore. Suddenly political meetings seemed more straightforward than kicking back and letting the sun soak in my skin…or cold in this case.

“You left the Nation in good hands, and maybe when you come back I'll have a new holiday set in place, Oolong Tea Appreciation Day…” Uncle Iroh mused.

I let out a sigh, “Something tells me you aren’t joking…”

Uncle Iroh must have heard as he let out a hearty laugh, his hand falling upon my shoulder. My eyes widen, completely caught off guard. The sudden contact was foreign, and for split second, I found myself as stiff as a board. I never realized how isolating being Fire Lord was until moments like these, moments of affection. Uncle Iroh noticed, his playfulness disappearing, a look of sympathy erupting as he gave my shoulder a soft squeeze, “I'm proud of you Zuko. Now go and enjoy yourself…”

Without thinking twice, I reached over and hugged him, something I haven’t done in a while. I could feel the smile Uncle Iroh held as he hugged me back instantly. Not a single word was spoken between us as the hug itself spoke plenty already.

Slowly we parted, and with that I walked towards the ship, ready for my long voyage. Standing at the ramp, I turned around one last time, Uncle Iroh waving gleefully.

“Fire Lord Zuko, permission to depart?” A guard spoke from behind me.

I waved to Uncle Iroh, bidding him my final farewell, before I noticed a figure standing off in the distance, near the main gates. Long black hair, half buns, red robes that were too long…Mai. My shoulders tensed as I could feel her piercing glare from inside the ship. My waving hand dropped to my side once again, my lips pressing together tightly, forming a thin line on my face. The last time we spoke was our argument.

“Permission granted,”

The guard huffed, beginning to raise the ramp. Although the ramp raised speedily, it didn’t seem fast enough - feeling the lingering glare from Mai.

“Fire Lord Zuko, may I offer you some tea?”

I turned around to see a petite maid standing next to me. My forehead scrunched up; she seemed familiar as if I had just seen her… “You were the maid who offered me tea in my office after Countess Mai left, correct?”

Her eyes widen, most likely amazed I remembered her. “Yes, Fire Lord Zuko.” She stuttered out. I couldn’t exactly be upset at her evident shock. There were many servants present at the kingdom; it was at times difficult to remember faces let alone names. But unlike my infamous father, I did treat my servants with some respect and insured they were given a safe place to rest for themselves and their families. I couldn’t stop the cold shiver that ran up my spine remembering how cruel Fire Lord Ozai and my lovely sister, Azula, were to them.

“What’s your name?”

“Lia, Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Are you new?” I asked.

“Yes, Fire Lord Zuko…that day I offered you tea was my first day…” She softly spoke. I was stunned; she’s pretty courageous to offer me tea on her first day. “I see…” I muttered, but the wheels in my head were turning. Lia was nice, offered and gave me some amazing tea, and she didn’t seem like such a traditional maid. She may be my ticket to relaxation…“How would you like to be my personal maid during my stay at the Southern Water Tribe?”

Lia looked taken aback by request. It was a bold request, and a considerable jump given her current position. But she seemed like the type who wouldn’t follow my every damn move during my vacation, something the more senior servants would do. I could actually relax, let loose, not worry if someone is watching me from the sidelines.

“I would love too, Fire Lord Zuko. But I would need to get it approved by the head-”

“When you grab my tea, tea of your choice, bring it to my study with any paperwork that I would need to fill out,” I spoke quickly. Lia nodded her head, looking rattled as she nervously patted her hands against her dress, “Yes Fire Lord Zuko, I will leave to get everything set.” I nodded, “Thank you, Lia.” I turned around – Lia standing there alone in shock, couldn’t blame her. She went from a simple tea maid to Fire Lord`s personal maid in seconds; all because she makes some great tea.

I let out a huff as I began walking to my office, ready to start reviewing Earth Nation paperwork regarding the United Republic of Nations. My hand anxiously ran through my hair; I couldn’t possibly have that much work left to complete…Two guards opened the large metal doors to my study as I walked in, documents and papers already stacked up on the wooden desk at the center of the room. I groaned, annoyed. These piles never seem to fucking disappear. Maybe I could just ‘accidentally’ burn a pile or two…

I plopped myself upon my chair, defeated. This is why I needed a vacation – time to myself. Time to just relax and not spend hours on end scribbling my damn signature. Another week and half of sailing Zuko. That’s it, then you can relax. I reached in my study drawer to grab ink and pens, but a canvas stopped my movements, preventing me from grabbing my tools.

It was a small painting, primarily painted with different hues of blues and whites. I raised it and smiled softly; it was a family portrait of Katara, Sokka, Hakoda, and Aang. It was a gift Aang had brought to me during one of his visits, and I kept it in my office as a random souvenir. It was at last year’s Winter Solstice festival, but the more I let my eyes gaze around the painting, I couldn’t help but notice another figure standing beside Sokka…Ying Yue.

I heard countless stories from Sokka and Aang about her.

She was mixed ethnicity: Fire and Water Nation, and from what I grasped she was a bender. Probably a Firebender…only a Firebender would have golden eyes that shined as brightly as hers. But before I realized, I was staring at the painting longer than I had attended, wholly fixated on Ying Yue. She was beautiful; like Fire Nation royalty. Her long black hair cascaded well beyond her hips and she bore such an innocent smile that reached her eyes. The royal blues against her milky skin made her look like a delicate flower: a Hydrangea.

I put the picture back in the drawer, ready to get to work. As curious as I was to know about this mysterious Ying Yue, I was smarter than to trust a painting when it came to her appearance. The painter could have easily made Ying Yue look like a goddess. But…what if she did look like that…

‘Smile - it's the key to unlocking people’s hearts, Zuko.’

I shook my head and scoffed, “as if I'll be unlocking any hearts…”

Day after day, I worked away on paperwork in this forsaken office. Days became nights after sailing so aimlessly, and soon, the days became nothing more but a blur. That was why when Lia woke me up and told me that we were due to arrive in another hour I was surprised.

Everyone on the ship was vigorously preparing for anchoring. The guards and servants seemed eager to get off the boat, and I could empathize with them, it was beginning to get stuffy, and the thought of walking on land was something I was starting to miss. I'm beginning to understand Toph’s love for Earth.

That led me to where I was now — standing tall and proud at the end of the ramp in my uniform. Guards and servants were dressed a tad bit more formal than usual, their heads up high as they carefully lined behind me, “Fire Lord Zuko, permission to drop ramp?” a guard shouted. I sucked in a deep breath, excited that the moment has finally come. On the other side of this door was my friends, and a break from my responsibilities.

“Permission granted.”

I could hear the masses from outside of the vessel, not surprised that my arrival had attracted a crowd. The last time I came here, I tried to capture the Avatar. I chuckled to myself and watched in a daze as the ramp lowered. A smile snuck its way upon my face as I began feeling the cold air entering into the ship, a strange feeling against my warm skin. The sunlight shined and illuminated the boat the further the ramp was dropped, and I could begin seeing crowds of people from either side of the ramp.

With a final thud, the ramp dropped, and I was astonished at how different and modern everything has become since I last came. The landscape was unquestionably striking, the sun illuminating the endless fields of snow and ice and highlighting the magnificent structures that were built in place of the huts that once stood. But I quickly redirected my gaze to the small group of people eagerly awaiting in front of me.

Team Avatar stood together, Hakoda and Aang standing at the front with large smiles as they watched me approach them. I beamed, my boots scrunching over the thin layer of snow as I eagerly walked forward. I could feel the heavy boots of my guards following suit, the feeling of snow melting on my skin feeling wonderful, I could get used to this. My gaze fell over everyone, but I caught myself slightly tripping over my feet when I spotted her.

My breath hitched as I took in what I was seeing.

She stood delicately beside Sokka as she wore a stunning red dress, a Fire Nation dress. The dress hugged her body like a glove - accentuating curves that could make any man or woman go mad with lust. Her black hair was tied up with well ornate Bu Yao, small pieces of hair loosely framing her face. Her skin glistened under the sunlight, reminding me of the pearls fishers find during their voyages. Despite the distance, I could still make out her soft, delicate features: golden eyes that could make a man stop dead in his tracks. That can’t be her…she’s gorgeous, beyond gorgeous.

I quickly shifted my gaze elsewhere, awkward teenage Zuko starting to bubble out at the sight of a beautiful woman. You’re Fire Lord you dumbass, act like one. Entirely taken aback by her beauty, a beauty that was memorizing - tantalizing to the eye, I hadn’t noticed how close I was to the group. Aang’s facial hair had begun to grow in from the last time I saw him, but it had been some time since I last saw Hakoda. He had aged, a few wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes and lips, but he still stood tall, and it was clear he was in charge of everything.

“Fire Lord Zuko, I hope the journey here was smooth?” Hakoda spoke, his hand outstretched before me, which I grabbed as we shook hands. “Hakoda- it was rather quick, faster than I realized,” He grinned, pleased to hear, “It’s great to have you here.” I moved over to Aang; his hands pressed together in front of his chest as he took a deep bow. I mimicked his movements and held my bow as long and as deep as his.

“Someone fell in love…”

The distinct sounds of hushed voices and some chuckles coming from behind Aang caught my attention, my ears perking up at the sounds. The laughs and whispers all too familiar, Toph and Sokka. I began to straighten out, letting my eyes wander to the left of me. Sokka and Toph were suppressing massive grins on their faces, and as if Toph had felt my gaze upon her she placed her hand over her heart, moving her hand up and down while pointing in front of her.

I cocked a brow upwards, trying to understand what she was trying to hint at, looking at where she pointed. Why is she pointing at her? Her cheeks were flushed a bright red, seemingly flustered about something.

No, it can’t be…

I quickly faced Aang, “It's a pleasure to have you here Fire Lord Zuko.” Aang said, his voice sounding different from the frequent informal conversations we shared. I nodded, “Thank you for letting me stay,” I spoke as I gazed back at Hakoda. But from the corner of my eyes, I could still see Toph grinning madly, entertained about something. I moved to greet Katara, she smiled as she excitedly greeted me.

Is Toph trying to hint at what I think she is…?

I moved onto Sokka as he gave me a quick bow before shaking my hand, “I’m happy to see you again Fire Lord Zuko.” He said with a smile. I smiled back but quickly raised a brow and eyed her. Sokka seemed to have gotten the hint because a devilish grin painted his face. He stood beside me, and before I knew it, I was standing directly in front of her, “Fire Lord Zuko, I would love to introduce to you my adopted sister, Ying Yue Jiang.”

All of my assumptions were true; she was Ying Yue. As I looked at her up-close I realized that I was right, the painting indeed didn’t do justice regarding her appearance.

The painter only captured what seemed to be a sliver of the beauty she held.

Judging by the looks Toph gave me, and the way Sokka emphasized the word love, I think…I got it. She was totally checking me out, did she think I was attractive?

Her golden eyes meet mine as she gave me a shy smile, “It's a pleasure to meet you Fire Lord Zuko.” Her voice was honeyed, so sweet; I found myself craving to hear it once more. But the faint blush that painted her cheeks didn’t disappear, instead intensified the longer I stood in front of her.

A large coy smirk played along my lips, realizing how much fun I could have with a bit of teasing if I were right about her infatuation - which was not one-sided granted. Although a part of teenage Zuko awkwardness wanted to pop out again, another side wanted to have fun: to see how fun-to-tease she was as Sokka and Aang spoke about to me.

Without thinking twice, I knew what I had to do.

Before Ying Yue could process what was happening, I went down on one knee and gently grabbed her hand. Her skin was soft to the touch; not even the most exquisite silk could compare. Ever so slowly, I pecked her hand. I could feel her heartbeat beating erratically, and mouth slightly open ajar in shock as my fingers played along with her wrist. A proud grin erupting from me; she totally likes me.

Slowly inching away, my lips still hovering over her hand I spoke, “The pleasure is all mine, Ying Yue Jiang.”

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

The moment the main doors closed Sokka and Zuko exchanged a huge hug, “Oh man, I can’t believe you’re actually here!” Sokka exclaimed. Zuko grinned, “Trust me, you owe me one. The amount of paperwork I had to do to get here…I deserve a vacation.” Aang had his arm wrapped around Katara, who laughed ecstatically, “Zuko, it’s been so long! Who is watching the Fire Nation in your place? How is your mom and little Kiyi?” Katara spewed, throwing question after question.

I stood back as the gang surrounded Zuko, flooding him with inquiries while I tried to gain my composure. He kissed my hand! My hand was still tingling, and I could still feel the heat from his soft pink lips. Not once during their stories did they tell me he was a tease, I knew he was sarcastic but not so…so…

Sokka wrapped an arm around Zuko, completely ignoring the flooding array of questions Katara sprung towards him. “Hey Zuko, I have a bone to pick with you. What was up with that kiss?” Sokka said with a grin. Zuko smirked devilishly, making it hard to believe those lips were the same lips that were on my hand just a few moments ago. Zuko smugly shrugged his shoulders causing Sokka’s arm to slip off, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t kiss anyone.” He spoke confidently.

I could feel someone suddenly grip my hand and raise it, “Maybe this is a reminder!” Toph shouted, a grin plastered upon her face. I blushed, why me? “That’s my sister you kissed!” Sokka shouted protectively. Zuko laughed, and before I could even bud-into the conversation, I could see Zuko slowly making his way towards me, “Sorry Ying Yue, I just had to make sure I gave a good first impression.”

I crossed my arms and pouted, “A warning would have been nice…” I grumbled - still embarrassed by the events. Zuko grinned cheekily, stretching out his hand in front of me, “Hi, my name is Zuko, Fire Lord of the Fire Nation. A pleasure to meet you.” I was surprised, but soon realized what he was doing. With a smile, I grabbed his hand, “Hi Zuko, my name is Ying Yue Jiang, the adopted daughter of Hakoda.”

With a tight squeeze, Zuko slowly let go, but I could still spot the hint of mischievousness twinkling in his eyes, “You don’t want to kiss my hand?” This asshole. My eyes widen, and without thinking twice, I smacked his arm - hard. Zuko yelped, surprised by my outburst, “You guys told me she was sweet, not abusive!” He shouted. I blushed, flustered by everything. I didn’t think he was going to tease me, let alone tease me as much as he did. “Serves you right!” I huffed.

Aang laughed in the background, Suki speaking up, “Hey Sokka, don’t kids tease each other when they have a crush on each other?” This time it was Zuko’s turn to look stunned, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly, did he have a crush on me?

“What does that mean?” I asked, “Does Fire Lord Zuko have a crush on me?” I teased out, mimicking the same tone he had. Zuko looked taken about at my outburst, and Toph gasped, “The Princess is fighting back!” I crossed my arms and was about to speak before a booming voice interrupted.

“Lunch is almost ready! Ying Yue, do you mind showing Fire Lord Zuko his room to change? It's near yours and Sokka’s.” Dad spoke with a soft smile. I quickly nodded my head, “O-oh, of course...” I muttered under my breath.

Dad nodded, waving his hands around and pointing the way to the dining hall, “The rest of you can make your way to the dining hall. I asked Kima to show Fire Lord Zuko’s maid, Lia I believe, the way to his room, so you should bump into them. Your items should already be inside the bedroom.” Zuko nodded, “Thank you so much Hakoda.” Dad smiled and waved us off before beginning to walk off to the dining hall.

Zuko looked at me, suddenly raising his arm; I lifted at a brow at him. He couldn’t seriously be thinking…“Well Princess, are you going to show me the way or not?” He said as he cocked his head at his arm. I huffed and linked my arm grudgingly with his. Although the blush on my cheeks gave away my unspoken delight to connect arms with him, I could feel his muscles as we linked arms, don’t you dare start drooling Yue. I could hear Toph and Suki giggling like school girls as we walked off, me leading the way. Can they be any more embarrassing?

It was not till we were out of sight Zuko finally spoke up, “I seriously do apologize if I took you off guard with the kiss on your hand. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…” Zuko mumbled. I looked up at his face as he looked straight ahead, and I couldn’t help but notice how shy he was now that we were alone. I shook my head, “It's fine… Although I think Sokka may hurt you in your sleep, so keep an eye open tonight.” I said with a giggle.

Zuko looked over at me and laughed. I could spot the twinkle in his eyes as he laughed, a cute dimple appearing ever so slightly if you looked carefully on the right of his face when he smiled. His smile was just spectacular; so sincere and always seemed to reach his eyes. Zuko gave me a searching look, and that was when I realized I was staring for a bit too long. I quickly looked in front of me and hoped he did not notice the faint blush reappearing, gosh my cheeks are going to be permanently flushed if this keeps up!

“I think I can deal with a Sokka if it means getting to know you,” Zuko said gently. My eyes widen, did I hear right? I raised my brow at him, and he grinned, “I’m curious about you, I’ve heard many stories about you whenever they came to visit me.”

“I guess that makes two of us; I was super curious to meet you,” I said back.

“Hopefully I met your expectations,” Zuko said playfully – oh, he’s sly alright. But before I could respond, I noticed we were already in the bedroom hallway, “Oh-! That door over there is yours! Across from you is Sokka’s and my room is the door right beside yours.” I said enthusiastically as I began dragging him behind me. Zuko gasped, surprised at my strength, as I quickly pulled him. His door was slightly ajar, and I swiftly pushed the grand white doors to his room, revealing some of his luggage already set in place.

“The rooms on this side of the house have a beautiful view of the sea. In the night you can see the Southern lights reflecting on the water, and it’s simply breathtaking.” I gushed.

Zuko looked at me and smiled, letting me ramble on. “Sometimes during the night I sneak off to the edge of that cliff over there-” I spoke as I pointed through the floor to ceiling windows, “from there you can see the whole town light up! And the way the stars twinkle above, gosh. It’s just…stunning.” Zuko chuckled as he looked at me, “You have to take me there some time…” He said softly. I looked at him and noticed our position. We looked like lovers, linking arms as we looked out the windows.

I couldn’t help but look at those pink pouty lips of his; his tongue running along his bottom lip. It took me a minute to realize that we were both looking at each other’s mouths, his head slowly moving down towards mine. My heart throbbed loudly in my ears, my hands getting clammy, oh my gosh, he is going to kiss me! What do I do?! Instinctively I closed my eyes, and I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks...and a gust of wind hit the side of my cheek, what the-

I opened my eyes surprised, only to see Zuko grinning, “Sorry Princess, you had something on your face, had to blow it away.”

My face heated up, I’m an absolute idiot. Before I could utter out a word, the sound of footsteps caught my attention. Kima waltzing in with another unfamiliar maid at that exact moment. “Miss, I didn’t expect to see you here- Fire Lord Zuko.” She quickly froze and gave a low bow. The young lady beside her did the same, wearing contrasting colours of red and gold. Kima stood up and gave me a confused look as I stood awkwardly, my arm still linked with Zuko’s.

As if he could tell, Zuko leaned over once again in my ear and chuckled, “Oh Princess, you're too cute when teased.”

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

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lord-explosion-baku · 6 years

Text

Dabi x reader

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, manipulative behavior, alcohol mention, swearing

A/N: little snoot I got in my head last night. If you get a writing idea you gotta write it down, right? And I haven’t written for Dabi in a long while and I miss him so there’s that. Just a tiny lil Christmas Hooplah.

It took what felt like a goddamn millennium to get Dabi to notice you. It was taking even longer to get him to leave you alone.

It was two days before Christmas, or what you like to call, “The eve of Christmas Eve.” You sat at the corner table at your favorite pub across from a man you met two weeks prior, Ryunosuke. It was your third date. He was quiet and soft spoken but really nice. Nice was what you thought you were looking for. It helped that he was attractive in an unkempt hair-falling-in-his-face kinda way. You tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t anything more than a distraction but you knew better. So did somebody else.

It was hard to make decent conversation over the sound of the piano playing classic holiday songs so the two of you exchanged presents. You got him new headphones that definitely put a dent in your wallet and he got you a silver necklace with a heart charm on it. A heart.

He helped you put it on, pulling your hair to one side so he could clasp it around your neck. His fingers were trembling. You told him that you loved it and he blushed. His eyes were teetering towards your lips. You were sure he was going to kiss you but he didn’t. So you kissed him. Your first kiss was just a peck. And it was fine. You liked his smile.

You excused yourself to order drinks at the bar and he watched you disappear through the thrum of other people. You were tapping your foot against your chair when the familiar scent of an icy cologne and cigarettes clouded the air.

“So you’re talking to other guys now?” You didn’t have to look up to know that Dabi was smirking down at you from behind but you did anyways. The fluffy black Santa hat was a surprise but everything else about him was the same. Same old singed duster jacket, same old silver piercings, same old stupid half grin. He looked at you like you had a secret and he was the only one who knew about it. “Let me rephrase: you’re kissing other guys now?”

You scowled. “That’s not really any of your business, is it?”

He tilted his chin up. “Isn’t it? You’re all my business and more, sweetheart.”

“Cut that shit out. I’m trying to have a good time.” You were challenged with trying to think of you knew he was going to be there. He knew you frequented this place but he wasn’t much for crowds and the place got busier as the holiday approached.

“Then we’re here for the same reason,” he took the empty stool next to you, placing his half empty glass onto the bar. “What’d you get?”

“My usual.” You tapped on the bar and watched the bartender filling glasses for guests who had ordered after you did.

“And what did he get?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He chuckled at your irritation. “I’m curious to see what kind of man is gonna be taking care of my angel is all.”

You were embarrassed that your heart started to hurt. You broke up with Dabi for a reason and it took you long enough to get over your heartache. Why does he get to bring it all back with something as simple as calling you his? It was stupid but you wouldn’t let him see that he got to you.

“You can’t tell who a person is by what they order to drink.”

“I beg to differ.” Dabi didn’t drink much but on special occasions when he did, he chose whiskey.

“He got the same thing I did.” The bartender finally brought you the two identical drinks. You took them both in your hands and got up to leave the bar.

Dabi stood with you and laughed out loud. “You know what that tells me?”

“No.” And you didn’t care.

“He’s either a guy that just doesn’t know what he wants or he’s really submissive.” You narrowed your eyes at his assumption but… Ryu was pretty passive as far as you could tell. “He sounds more like my type than yours.”

“Maybe you don’t know my type at all.”

“Maybe,” he mused before leveling his head with yours. You flinched when he grabbed your chin. “But I do know how to make you scream. How to have you completely unwound and how to make you beg for more.” Flashes of countless torturous sexual exploits crossed your mind. You could feel your cheeks begin to flush. Dabi’s grin only grew wider.

“Let me ask you, has champ over there ignited any of your nerves like I have?” When you didn’t answer, he continued, “has he even seen you naked?”

The piano was too loud and you were to angry… or nervous to say anything. You focused your attention and a drunk woman whooping on about her favorite pop artist.

Dabi leaned in closer to your ear and purred, “does he know you like honey both in your tea and on your neck? Would he even think to put honey on your-“

“Stop.” You took a step away and glared down at his boots. You were sure your face was visibly red. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Maybe I will when you really want me to, Y/N.” He reached down and took the silver charm of your necklace between his fingers. If your hands were full you would’ve swatted him away.

“A heart?”

“I like it.”

Dabi scoffed. You walked away.

You sat down at your table and tried to smile at Ryu as you placed his drink in front of him. You watched his face scrunch up when he took a sip.

Shame creeped up your spine at the same time you felt excited prickles raise the hair on your arms. You knew those icy turquoise eyes were watching you.

“What do you usually get?” You asked, watching him try it a second time.

“Uhh,” you could tell he was embarrassed. “Something like this but less stronger, I think.”

You knew you were annoyed and you didn’t want to take it out on Ryu so you called it a night early. He didn’t try to suggest the two of you do something, anything else it wasn’t like you wanted to hang out with him any longer but you were anticipating something.

You threw your bag along with your coat down on your couch and examined yourself in the bathroom mirror. The necklace was cute but hearts weren’t your thing. Neither was Ryu. You yanked the necklace off and placed it on the counter.

You traced the burn scar on your shoulder. It vaguely resembled a hooked ‘D.’ Your friends thought it was a sign of abuse and you let them think that because you didn’t really know how to tell them that it was a heat of the moment, consensual, lust driven impulse that lead to you being marked so permanently by your ex. Even though you kept the scar hidden, you liked it. It gave you a bit of edge.

There was a knock on your door. You hurriedly brushed your hair in front of the scar and walked to the door. Who’d be at your house at this hour? Maybe it was Ryu, trying to finally make a move or a romantic gesture? Ohhhh it was stupid trying to trick yourself into being naïve. You knew exactly who was on the other side of the door as you turned the knob.

Dabi was standing with a wrapped gift in one hand and a jar of honey in the other. You crossed your arms and leaned against your doorway.

He only grinned. “Merry Christmas, aaangel.”

You stood your ground and didn’t say a word. That only encouraged Dabi to step closer, enveloping you in his scent. He quirked a brow and ran his tongue along his teeth. He tucked your hair back behind your ear and ran his fingers down your neck and to the scar- his mark. You shuddered.

“It’s pretty cold out,” he said. “You gonna let me in?”

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#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader #dabi x reader #todororoki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha christmas #dabi #angst

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bubmyg · 6 years

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hi! i’m not sure if you’re accepting requests or not.. but if you are, can you please write a yoongi imagine where he teaches his gf how to play basketball? or maybe teaching her how to spin the ball on a finger skdjsks

genre/warnings: college!au, basketball au, light amount of angst but mostly fluff

a/n: in the same universe/time line as this blurb but they don’t have to be read together

word count: 1,350

Yoongi’s alarm echoed dully in your ears, a shrill sound from the cheap hunk of plastic residing on his bedside table, a relatively new device after his roommate, the performing arts major Hoseok, had launched a basketball through the door and shattered his old one. You’d pushed the cart through Walmart with nothing but the alarm clock in it until he’d decided to lift a twelve pack in beside it.

“For when Taehyung comes to visit,” He’d reasoned when you glared at him, “Poor freshmen. Can’t have alcohol in the dorms, you know.”

You snatched your phone in route to smack the snooze button, bypassing the glare of wavering red lines to instead trust the 7:01 that Apple glared at you. Oh. It was his seven o’clock Saturday practice alarm. You winced at the intrusive thought that swept across the forefront of your conscious.

He’ll need to reprogram that. No more practices this season. At all.

The heel of your palm dug into your eyelid, turning to duck back underneath his duvet. Your words of comfort died into a mouthed whisper on your tongue when you found Yoongi’s side of the bed vacant, sheets neatly tucked up near the indentation in his pillow. His hoodie and sweatpants were gone from where he’d shucked them at the foot of the bed the night before, his phone and keys nowhere to be found.

A part of you thought you’d missed his text. You hadn’t. Another part of you thought he was in the shower, again, the third of twelve hours. He wasn’t. The last part of you thought he was down the hall with Hoseok, maybe half smiling at his friend’s best attempt at cheering him up with toaster waffles decorated in syrup smiles.

When you didn’t trip over his worn leather basketball he’d hauled around since high school that occupied the space next to his door, it clicked.

The hood of his sweatshirt you’d shrugged on in your haste to exit his apartment fluttered off your forehead with the soft spring winds curling across the park. Leftover leaves not disintegrated by pounds of snow through the window crunched under your shoes, softening in intensity when tread turned from dirt to the worn concrete of the basketball court.

You approached slowly, arms tucked across your chest. Yoongi dribbled, jumping a half step away from you to shoot at the basket. You winced when it rebounded off the back of the rim, landing on a crack in the concrete before falling into his open palms. He barely prepped, chucking the ball at the basket once more. This time when it hit the rim, it rumbled toward you, bouncing up to smack against your knees. You collected it wordlessly, finding Yoongi staring at you expectantly, palms open and waiting at his chest for a pass.

“If it makes you feel any better-” You shoved the ball as hard as you could off your chest, the outer shell meeting Yoongi’s hands with a soft thump, “-you’re still my favorite player.”

“No offense, babe-” He grunted, feet leaving the ground as he shot something vaguely close to a three at the basket. It hit the front of the rim, ricocheting straight back into his awaiting palms, “-but it really doesn’t.”

A rock scattered across the court as you moved closer, scuffing your steps as you went. “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Your neck traveled with the sail of another shot at the basket. No good.

“Really?” Yoongi tucked the ball into his hip, chin to his shoulder to glance at you. “I remember missing the game winning three when I should have just passed it off to Taehyung. He has the best free throw percentage in the league and that idiot guarding him surely would have fouled him-”

“I was there,” You stepped closer, “Tae wasn’t open. You did what you thought was-”

“I could have got him open! That’s my job!” His voice came louder than intended, ball rolling off his hip in his own surprise. Worn hues of orange paused when bumping into the arch of your foot, something you let sit idle as Yoongi sighed, two hands curling into the hairs peeking out from his beanie at the nape of his neck.

“Sorry,” Yoongi’s bottom lip worried into a point, “It just sucks. This sucks.”

You nodded, crouching to collect the ball in the wind of your arms. Two easy steps and you were leaning against Yoongi’s chest, nose nuzzling at his throat as his arms fell around your waist. “I know, love,” You held your breath for a minute as his lips nudged across your hair, “Next season?”

A breathy chuckle exited the tension around you, his lips landing firmly on your temple as he agreed, “Yeah. Next season it is...”

You considered the ball in your grasp as Yoongi rocked back and forth, transferring it between chilled palms. “How do you...” You trailed off, trying to fit your fingers around the top of the ball to suspend it in the air. You failed, the ball dribbling once into the gravel below before fitting into your awaiting hands again. “How do you palm the ball?”

Yoongi laughed softly against your skin, reaching around your hip to hold the underneath of the ball. “Well first of all-” His free hand worked at pulling out the kinks in your knuckles, splaying your hand as wide as it would go, “-your hands need to grow.”

“Not fair,” You nudged him with your elbow, “Help me.”

His palm was warm when it encased your knuckles, splayed over the ball a top yours. The last link on his digits crooked to hold the ball, removing his grasp on the bottom only for the ball to leave both of your grasps and roll sadly over the top of your toes.

“Doesn’t work with two hands, I guess,” Yoongi mused, ducking around you to swipe the ball up. He palmed it easily, stretching his arm out to present the ball to you.

You took it with a glare, holding it with a delicate wrist like presenting a tray. You considered the used ball with cocked eyebrows, reaching with your free hand to twirl the ball over the curl of your index and middle fingers. It rolled sadly off, catching in the crook of your elbow.

“What about this?” You lifted the ball back on your fingers, a sad attempt at spinning it like you’d see Yoongi do so many times before. You settled for letting it spin in the cup of your palm, grinning at the roll of his eyes, “Am I you yet?”

The ball disappeared before you blinked, doing a complete revolution around your head as Yoongi passed it between his hands before shooting an off balance, halfhearted shot at the rusted rim. It smacked against the wooden backboard with a resounding clack, the entire pole vibrating into it’s slab of concrete foundation as the ball hit the brunt of the rim and rolled through the net.

Of course it did.

“No,” Yoongi turned to you with a soft smile, one that was more for your benefit, not quite meeting the light in his eyes as the tiniest peek of his teeth appeared. “To be me you have to be an absolute failure.”

You sighed, tugging on his wrist to plant a hard kiss on his cheek, mumbling, “You’re not a failure.”

“It’s okay, I am,” He didn’t allow you to reprimand him again before he was teasing, “Even you could probably beat me in a game of PIG today.”

“I’m offended.”

Yoongi’s lips fell across yours chastely, shrugging off your grasp on his wrist to wrap an arm around your waist. His nose brushed across yours once, twice, smile shy, “Am I still your favorite player, though?”

“Yes,” You deadpanned, “Always.”

His smile was genuine this time, crinkling around the soft caramel of his irises as his gaze ducked, looping his latter arm around to squeeze your waist, squishing your forehead to his.

“Alright, I guess that does make me feel a little bit better...”

#min yoongi #bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi scenarios #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #i love basketball and i love yoongi and i love yoongi playing basketball #uwu #Anonymous

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