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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 2 years ago

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Come Down In Time

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Ghost x Shadow!Reader There's something about you that Ghost just can't seem to figure out, and it's driving him crazy. Or basically, Ghost has a crush and he doesn't know what to do about it, so he tries to fight his feelings.

TW - Non-graphic mentions of throwing up (nothing crazy) Tags: Slow burn, Angst, Touch-starved!Ghost, Soft!reader, Fluff, Teasing, Flirting, Innocent intimacy, sweet moments, kinda sad Ghost Word Count: 5.6k

Masterlist

Can be read like a one-shot

Author's Note: I feel like if Ghost started to like someone, he wouldn't know what to do about it. This is from his POV. I hope it's not too cringe. Sorry it's longer and slow~ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

...

Part III - Come Down In Time

You talk a lot.

The chatty ones usually got on Ghost's nerves, as it was mostly empty bluster and nonsense. Especially in regards to him. The man can only hear the same kinds of questions for so long.

People always want to know the most surface level things about him -- why he wears his masks, why he’s so quiet, what crawled up his ass and died? Ghost used to have a few creative responses for that, but after a while he’s grown less inspired to do so.

Only you never asked the normal questions he was used to hearing about. Not really. Those thoughts never seemed to occur to you. You didn’t seem to care.

Your questions were little ones. Ones he wasn’t used to thinking about, let alone sharing. They reminded him of the kinds of things a civilian would ask. Innocent. Not like how the other soldiers spoke at all.

And when you speak to him, you weren’t talking to his rank or reputation; you don't let that front of his distract you. You speak directly to him. The man behind his mask. A shadow of himself that you act as though you see clear as day.

And it didn’t seem to matter how many questions he dodged, or how blunt and aloof he behaved. You just continued to be there, asking away. Seemingly for no reason. Though Ghost was not naïve nor fool enough to believe this could just be a whim for you. He’s not an idiot, and neither are you.

You pick your words carefully. It might take you a second or two to come up with a response -- whenever it isn’t just on the fly -- but your words are not often spoken without some thought to them. Even your most honest moments only seem to be a small piece to an otherwise elaborate puzzle.

It unnerved Ghost the way he caught himself picking you apart. How he had begun to do so without even noticing. You and Soap both could talk a dog off a meat truck if given the opportunity, he’s come to learn. It should annoy him how casual you two were with him. It should.

It’s only made Ghost realize how long it’s been since there’ve been people around to feel this way about.

There was a passing thought he had, as he watched you in the passenger’s seat of the car. Some deep seeded memory which bubbled in his mind. Old and covered in dust. It’s there only for a brief second, but just long enough to nag at the man for the rest of the drive back to the barracks.

If only he could put his finger on it.

“I’ve got another!”

You clap your hands in excitement, as a sloppy smile grows on your face. You must’ve had the entire bar after he’d stepped out for a smoke, judging from how drunk you still were. Ghost hadn’t even been that long; he thought so at least.

Despite your enthusiasm to share another joke, for some odd reason you don’t speak until he gives you a response. Ghost almost didn’t, had he not noticed after glancing over. The way you were just waiting there like some lost, playful puppy had him reeling a bit. You even batted your eyelashes at him.

You were just the strangest thing.

“Well, don't get shy now,” he says.

“Why don’t dinosaurs talk?”

“Why?”

“Because they’re dead.” You laugh at your own joke.

Seems you’re a dork as well.

Your laughter had an enticing pull to it though. Like a warm, open door, it beckons a look-see.

Ghost wouldn’t admit it -- he hardly believes it himself -- but he likes the way your voice sounds. Don't ask him why though; he's been racking over that question all evening. Your voice just seems to draw him in rather subliminally, as though you were slowly putting a spell on him.

You weren’t afraid to laugh or talk when no one asked, seemingly living life by the breeze. Only when he looked in your eyes, Ghost saw something else in them, behind the optimism and confidence. Something familiar. And it absolutely drives the man mad trying to figure out what that look could be.

You drum your hands on your lap bashfully, looking out your window again. "Not my best joke."

“We can’t both be funny,” he says.

“Gee thanks.”

The car falls into a sudden silence after your comment. Ghost finds a place in it, spacing out with his driving. Eventually he goes into auto-pilot, the passing of each streetlight blending with the next.

You didn’t look like you wanted to cry anymore, which must be a good sign. Ghost watched you fight to hide it since you left the bar; a real battle with yourself from the looks of it. He’s not sure what brought these tears out, but he had a few ideas. If you wouldn’t mention it though, then he wouldn’t either.

He never did enjoy watching others cry, especially those who don't deserve to. He can't help but feel a little uncomfortable around it too, never being quite good in these kinds of situations. But somehow, he's managed to help you, if not serve as a viable distraction.

You awkwardly hum to yourself, shuffling in your seat a bit. The silence must bother you from how you squirm about and play with strands of your hair. Modestly. Ghost couldn't quite understand what it was that made you so awkward around him.

At first, he assumed you were just intimidated by his appearance, like most are. His looks alone have done enough wonders keeping the riffraff away thus far. Yet here you sit beside him. You’ve sat beside him all night. Looking at him as openly as any other man.

When Ghost saw you didn't care about his looks, he then thought it was his attitude which made you so strange with him. But you come back around even then, with that same little smile.

You just seemed to be OK with him.

It’s difficult for Ghost to pinpoint what it was about you which turned his attention so easily. He wouldn’t normally give anyone a second thought outside of their working relationship. He saw no need to. It’s not like people didn’t come and go in his life, enough to where it’s gotten easy to not bother and keep everything at proper distance.

Yet with you around, Ghost felt different. He almost couldn’t help himself.

The fact that you even convinced him to come out tonight was something to be noted. It had just been that look on your face when you offered to drive him. All rain-soaked and chattery teeth, trying to keep up some front that you could endure the wet, cold conditions with him. You stuck around to the bitter end of it, like you really wanted him to be there tonight.

You had looked so excited when he finally agreed to, too.

“I don’t know how you can drive around with no music on,” you suddenly comment.

Ghost watches you lean over and turn the radio up, as some commercial sounding pop music begins to play. You frown in a similar fashion to how he felt hearing it be turned on. Your fingers then flip through the stations daintily, twisting and pressing all sorts of knobs and buttons like a sound coordinator. A playful smile grows suddenly, as your eyes search his again.

“Any preferences?”

Clever girl. Ghost hasn’t forgotten how much you’ve seemed interested in knowing what he likes to listen to. At this point, he figured he’d keep the game going. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Damn,” you pout. “I thought that would work.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

What was it this reminds him of? Was this a memory? An old feeling? It stirs a storm in Ghost, something fierce. Like a song in the back of his mind he couldn’t remember the lyrics to. There’s a melody there, but it's all mixed up and far away. It grates at him.

Don't get used to this, he tells himself. Don't start now.

Ghost watches ahead, eyeing every pedestrian and car that passes by his headlights. Dissecting his own thoughts. Trying to get this damn nagging feeling to either show itself or bugger off. When he tries to think more deeply of it, somehow his mind always manages to come wandering back to you.

Suddenly, he has a clear picture in his mind of you again. Just as you are, just as he’s seen you thus far. Canary: The way your eyes bounce about, how your lips move when you talk or smile, the small cut above your brow from your last mission, that just doesn't seem to concern you in the slightest.

Every hour he'd find something new to see, piecing in this puzzle of you in his head.

You change the station to something softer -- some acoustic song that blends nicely with the rest of the noise around him. Ghost finds it easier to concentrate. When he looks over at you, you’ve settled a bit, perhaps a little more nauseous in the face, but settled. Seems the music was all you needed.

You sing beneath your breath to the song on the radio. You're drunk enough to do it, but not so much to do so loudly, as you try and blend in with the singer’s voice, almost to hide it from him. Ghost picks up on your tune however. Your voice is distinctive.

He quietly listens to you sing for the rest of the drive home.

He almost forgets the radio is even on.

...

Ghost parks the car in the barrack parking lot. Without much thought, he steps out and makes his way around to open the door for you. By the time he’s done all of this, you haven’t even unbuckled your seatbelt yet. This makes him rather impatiently lean over and unbuckle it for you.

As he leans in to do so, he feels the warmth radiating from your body, along with your eyes, which sit on him like the beating sun. Your breath catches in your throat, as you move your arms out of the way so he can help you.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you joke.

Ghost doesn’t reply (though he rolls his eyes), merely watching as you swayed in your feet once you stepped out, seconds away from wobbling over drunkenly. He takes hold of your arm before you can tip over however. You then stubbornly -- and feebly -- shake him off you, straightening yourself up.

“I got this,” you casually assure him.

“We’ll see.”

You two walk back to the barracks together, no words to say. Only for a moment.

“Mmm,” you begin to hum beside him.

“What?”

“The moon’s out,” you say.

Ghost looks up above himself. Indeed, the moon is out. You really are just some stray puppy he’s accidentally picked up, aren’t you?

Feels like it’s been raining all night before now; only a few hours ago was he swimming in a pool of rain trying to fix his damn truck. He’d probably just be up in his room right about now if you hadn’t convinced him to come out tonight.

Now the moon hangs above your heads, as full and far away as the night before, the stars peeking out between the dark clouds that were just beginning to break apart. When his eyes drop back down to you however, he almost makes a double take.

The view above only seems to pale in comparison.

Your head is cocked back, observing the sky above you with a drunken, childlike wonder. Your cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, and the moon truly seems to fascinate you. You smile to yourself, big eyes skimming the clouds. Moonlight shines off your skin like a soft, luminescent glow; making you appear almost otherworldly. It’s enough to make a man lose track of his own thoughts.

That distant, unfamiliar feeling nagged at him some more.

“Observant as always, Canary.”

Ghost retook your arm when he saw you slip up one of the steps to the barracks entrance. You grab hold of him instinctively, your slender fingers gripping to the fabric of his hoodie. Your hands can barely fit around his bicep, your grip a lot more secure and gentle than he would have expected. It almost makes him not mind that you’re holding onto him so closely.

He hesitates to remove his hand from your arm once you've reached the top of the steps, debating whether or not you’ll need the help. You make the decision for Ghost, gently prying yourself from his grip.

“It’s Y/N,” you say. “Call me Y/N.”

You look up at Ghost, who looks down at you, standing only about a foot away. He smells your perfume, even in the cold air, watching your breath fog above you towards the night sky. It makes the man tense up.

Y/N . He plays it back in his mind. Fitting.

“I’ll think about it.”

The place is quiet; by now you’re sure it’s nearly one in the morning. The soldier they had on CQ was passed out in his chair, though he would not have cared that you two were arriving so late regardless. You managed to make it to your door without needing any more help from Ghost however. Only just.

You clumsily dig into your pocket for your keys, before they jump from your fingers and clatter onto the floor. You then start to bend over to retrieve them, only to overestimate your stability and wobble forward. Ghost catches your arm just in time, hoisting you back up to your feet, as he picks your keys up for you.

The whole motion of this makes you suddenly nauseous, your stomach stirring and slurring and threatening to bubble in your throat at any moment. You begin to taste that acidic taste in your mouth, as you're now focusing on swallowing it down.

“Which key?” Ghost asks. You turn to him and point to a golden, round key. He unceremoniously unlocks and opens the door for you, though he doesn’t go away just yet. “You straight from here?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You begin to nod, but suddenly your legs start to buckle. You make a worried expression like you were about to be sick. Without saying anything, Ghost invites himself inside and ushers you to the bathroom. He swiftly lowers you to your toilet, lifting the seat for you as he seats himself at the edge of the tub beside you.

You didn’t need much else of an excuse to start letting out everything you’d had to drink tonight. You hug the toilet bowl in your arms, letting the sound of your own retching echo in your ears as you groan after every outburst.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost comments. He instinctively pats your back, roughly, trying to help you out. “Have a few less in the future next time, yeah?”

You respond with a resounding groan, lifting a hand to give him a thumbs up, before letting more of yourself go. He’s sure you’ll feel less drunk once you’re done. It should help.

Ghost stops patting your back at some point, though his hand lingers. Unconsciously. When he finally notices the way the warmth of your back makes his hand tingle, he removes it, resting them back in his lap and looking off into the room.

This bathroom is dark, as the whites of the walls made the room feel cold. There comes this moment after midnight where the silence surrounding you feels just a little more trance-like, as though your consciousness teetered between thoughts and reality. Ghost experienced this the longer he sat by you.

He’s been here before, hasn’t he? Back home, long ago. With someone else. Back before…

Old names with dead faces, long buried someplace deep in him slowly began to surface. Faces he’d rather not think of.

Is that the feeling which nags at him?

What was it about you which felt so… forgotten…

…And why did it unsettled him so much?

Ghost stands up from the tub. He’s let this go on long enough.

“I should go.”

You look up at him from the toilet bowl. Your eyes are more sullen now. “Oh,” you say it with such disappointment, before clearing your throat and looking away. “OK. I understand. I uh… I’m sorry for tonight…”

“Enough already,” he says. “Weren’t like you forced me to be here.”

“True,” you stand yourself up from off the floor. “Less I forget I had to bribe you earlier to even come out at all…”

"Exactly."

You quickly make your way over to the sink to make use of your toothbrush. As you did so, Ghost remained in the bathroom with you, looming a few feet away.

He hasn’t gotten used to looking down to see you yet. He keeps forgetting how tiny you are. At least compared to himself.

Your appearance and physique alone were rather opposite to what he was used to. Had you two not worked together he would never have thought you were a soldier, let alone a mercenary. He supposes not everyone has that look. You certainly didn’t need it to be here either.

From where Ghost stands behind you, watching you brush your teeth, he sees the way your spine curves. How your legs extend to the floor, as well as their shape. You give your back to him rather vulnerably. What has he done to garner such trust?

When you finish, you look up to see Ghost still lingering by. Despite stating he’d be leaving, he hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

You grow quiet, trying to make sense of him through his mask again. Searching endlessly. Your expression drops, and your eyes glint with melancholy. As though you’d just made a foul discovery in him.

Ghost hides it, but it catches him off guard to see the shift in your demeanor. Because that’s a look he’s more familiar with. Did you finally see something you didn’t like in him? Have you finally come to your senses?

And why did he suddenly care to know?

Ghost knows the smart thing to do would be to leave it. But that other part of himself, the part which nags at him even now, had a different idea. One which felt more natural to do.

“Have I got somethin’ on my face?” A joke.

It’s the sound your voice makes when you giggle which has him feeling like a fool. It shouldn’t have moved him like it did.

“No,” you say. “Just taking in the view.”

“Must be a nice one.”

“It is."

Ghost nearly chuckles.

You're a flirt. He’s met his fair share before, but none quite as consistent as you. You've casually flirted with him since you two met, as you have with everyone he’s seen thus far; meaning he’s no one special. Though you’re a natural at making your words feel good.

“You play too much, Canary,” warned Ghost.

“I thought I told you to call me Y/N,” you tease back. Though your voice is still a little slurred and playful, you're being serious. “Have you forgotten already?”

“No,” he says. “I haven’t forgotten.”

The room grows still, and for a moment it feels as though time no longer exists -- the two of you stuck in some midnight plane of existence.

You observe him as intensely as he does you. The more you two stare, the more he's about to pick a new detail out from you to think about. Another qualm.

You have kind eyes.

When Ghost met you, that’s the first thing that caught his attention. How your eyes are so full of life and wonder. Gentle. Inviting. Human. And completely wrapped up in him.

You want to see him. You want to know him. Your kindness is like a hidden syringe, embedded in his veins somewhere before now, slowly injecting him. You pull the feelings from his chasm of a mind so easily.

Your kindness infuriates him.

Something else nags stills.

Ghost eyes shift to the mirror behind you. He sees a giant shadow. Himself. He could take one step closer to you and watch that “kindness” you've built for him crumble like the weak foundation it was based on. Witness all your hard work fall to ruin. Just as he’s willfully done before to countless others.

Since when has he been deserving of such kindness anyway? Who gave you that notion? What a cruelty it was, how easy it creeps up on him so uninvitedly. If only you knew what you toyed with. You wouldn’t bother with the likes of him if you did, he’s decided.

If only you truly saw.

“Are you tired, lieutenant?"

Ghost pauses. Your big eyes gaze up at him, genuinely curious to hear his answer. Had you not said another word, he may have stood there all night.

At first his mind hears the word "tired" and takes it personally. Yes he was tired. He’s been tired his whole fucking life. But then he realized what you meant by tired, and quickly settled down.

"Not necessarily," he says. Truth be told, he felt wide awake. He knows he probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep tonight as it was. The nightmares have gotten bad again, worse than normal lately, though he hasn’t shared that with anyone. The last thing he wants is another evaluation. "Why?"

You grow shy suddenly. Words hang in your mouth but you hesitate to let them out. And Ghost holds his breath, waiting to hear you speak.

"Do you have to go so soon?"

He was afraid of this happening. Ghost had an inkling that you would ask him to stay. Would he have the strength to tell you no? He needed to. He shouldn’t even be thinking in any other way to begin with.

“It’s for the best,” he says robotically.

“Why?”

Bloody hell. “It just is,” he says, a little more irritated now. “Why ask?”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Don't do this. Ghost can’t help but cross his arms, hugging them to his chest as he huffed to himself. "Weren’t you havin' a shit night a second ago?"

"I'm not anymore."

"I won’t make it much better."

You laugh now. "I'd beg to differ."

You just don't know when to quit, do you? You're so careless with how you speak to Ghost, not taking a moment to think of how much your words coaxed something dark in him. Something buried. It screams for you to leave it.

Ghost never lets off that your words have any effect on him. He’s mastered his poker face. The mask helps. “You give me too much credit.”

“You say that like you don't deserve it.”

“I don't," he takes a step closer to you now, towering over you. Subtly warning you. "Don’t act as though you know me. I already told you, you don't.”

He's right. You don't know him. No one knows him, or the hardships he's had to face, the people he's failed and lost… all the sacrifices he's had to make of himself just to survive. You only know a shell of himself. A mask.

The only ones who knew Ghost are dead ones; he didn't need more faces to join that crowd. He didn't need more fuel for the fire.

But you’re so Goddamn stubborn. You remain leaning against the sink, your gaze unwavering from his, arms crossed. Why do you look at him with such ease, even now?

“I don’t care,” you say.

You push yourself from the sink, approaching him closer, until you're only about a foot away again. Ghost doesn’t flinch. He makes no movement at all, merely keeping you in his sights. The air in the room starts to grow heavier.

Somehow you still smell of perfume and cold rain. It slowly takes over his senses, like some sort of pheromone.

“You should care,” he says.

“I wish I could know you more,” you continue, your smile only growing brighter. You’ve truly convinced yourself now. "You're quite the character."

Ghost finally breaks his gaze from you, looking off to the side. “There’s nothin’ about me worth knowin’.”

“That’s simply not true,” you tell him. “I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ghost tells himself. You think you do, but you don’t.

Whatever it was you were trying to do -- this getting to know him, trying to read him, or bond with him -- it needed to stop. It wasn’t necessary, and it wouldn’t do either of you any favors in the future going down this path.

He’s not just some book you can read through and understand, even if you two had a sit down and went through it word by word. Page by page. Trauma by trauma. What you see of him is some idea you’ve created, a bubble needing to be burst.

He begins again. Don't get comfortable.

“And what is it you know?” he challenges you harshly.

To his shock and dismay, you bring your hand up and begin going over a list with him.

“I know you care a lot more than you let on," you say. "I also know you’re funny. You’re good at what you do, and I know that you’re smart.”

You pause and start to think more about the man in front of you, gathering up everything you’ve managed to put together in such a short amount of time. In this silence, Ghost longs for you to stop.

End this while it was fun.

You then say, “I know that you were my favorite part about tonight.”

The man stands there, processing all your words. Is that what you think of him? “You’re still drunk.”

"You’re avoiding my eyes,” you taunt.

He's had enough of this.

As if to protest your words, Ghost rips his gaze back to you, and you see a fire burn in his dark eyes, piercing straight through you. They tell you to get back. If he could scare you away with one look, he’d let it be and forget this exchange ever happened.

But you’ve seen all sorts of eyes in your lifetime, and Ghost’s did anything but scare you.

You’re unmoved by his cold gaze. Unflinching as you had been when he’d first met you. Trying to find some home for him in your mind even now. It makes Ghost frown beneath his mask.

But even now, you still find some reason to smile at him. Ghost sees himself wrapped in your irises, absorbed by his presence, happy to have his eye again. "That's better."

Ghost's cold gaze wavers. He doesn't know what to say.

You stand so close to him now, if either of you extended your arms you could brush one another. There’s nothing he'd want more than to see how you might feel in his arms. How easily he could hold you. Touch you. He feels a few more starved heartbeats away from acting out on these impulses.

Ghost can only wonder what runs through your mind right now.

That nagging feeling just won’t go away.

Would he have to beg you to leave this where it is?

"I can't stay,” Ghost says again, quieter this time, his voice so low it sings in this empty room.

You hear Ghost's words, and really take in the emotions in his eyes this time. Your expression softens and you give the man a reassuring smile. You push no further.

Your acceptance shames him.

You say to him, "OK."

Somehow it doesn’t make him feel any better.

Ghost walks you out of your bathroom, shutting the lights off and closing the door for you, as the man watches you make your way over to the front entrance. The fairy lights you have decorating your window make the lighting a deep shade of purple, only offset by the streetlights that peaked from your curtains. It makes your room feel like a figment of his imagination at first.

Ghost pauses at your door, turning to face you a final time. You keep some distance from him.

“Hey um… before you go.” You take another step closer; each time you’ve stood by him you’ve found some way to be nearer. “I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to come out with us tonight, or drive me home and deal with my bullshit, but you did, and… I really do appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

You show him too much kindness. You stand there, looking up at him, with your sweet words and sweet scent. Standing so close to him. Too close.

“Well I am,” you say. “Tonight wasn’t really what I wanted, but... I mean it when I say you definitely were the highlight.”

You present your hand out, inviting him to shake it. “I hope you have a good night, lieutenant.”

Ghost looks down at your hand, feeling his heart catch in his chest. After some thought, he decides to return the handshake. His large hand engulfs yours, and though the coldness of his skin is so sharp it sends goosebumps up your arm, your hand remains in his.

"Likewise," Ghost says.

Seconds pass, and your hands remain together. Touching you, touching him. You're as warm as your personality, your touch soft and delicate in his, as your thumb gently brushes his battered knuckles and rough skin, ignoring all its imperfections.

Do you have to go so soon ?

When you start to pull your hand away, Ghost's grip tightens, keeping your hand in his. The dumbest thing he could possibly have done. You bring your eyes to his, your expression caught off guard, and he sees it in you finally -- that want to not be alone. The want to be closer. The longing to be near someone real.

It's the nagging, familiar feeling in your eyes he's seen all along. A shared want to be human for a moment.

You use the grip he has on your hand as an excuse to pull yourself near. Your other arm extends towards him, weaving beneath his arm and around his waist. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. With your ear to him, you listen to his heart race, and settle more against him. An innocent embrace.

Suddenly you felt as a giant, and he so meager.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think your touch frightened him, from how reserved he behaved. But you hug him like you’ve wanted to this whole time, smelling the outside on him, feeling the dry rain against your skin.

Ghost hasn't hugged you back yet, becoming somewhat of a passive observer, soaking in every sensation. How long has it been since someone touched him so gently? Since he's allowed someone to?

And how long has he been unknowingly waiting for someone to?

Ghost is stiff in your hold, fighting this flexing urge he had to instinctively pull away from you. Each second passes and the touch of your arms settles him, his body finally relaxing against yours. Before long, his arms wrap over your small figure, pressing you deeper into his chest. Like a child clutching a blanket.

Your arms adjust around him, making Ghost feel ashamed by how soothing you felt to hold. These actions feel so foreign.

The man's hold tightens, his chin slowly resting at the crown of your head. He can feel you exhale, the air leaving your body as your face buries itself beneath his arm. Even with both your clothes on, he can feel so much of you pressed against him. Your heat feels like a flame in the dark; long has he spent on this lonely trek freezing.

What more has he been missing?

Your fingers start to clutch at his back tightly, a small whimper leaving your lips, muffled between his arm and chest. Ghost had begun to squeeze you. He doesn’t let go until he feels you squirm a little. Once he realizes however, it immediately embarrasses him.

That shouldn’t have brought that out of him. He should not have allowed himself to do that. He takes a step back, eyes looking between you and the wall behind you. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s scolding his own actions. Damning them. Because now he found himself already missing it.

“Couldn’t breathe there for a second,” you laugh, your voice cutting into his thoughts so effortlessly. Ghost blinks, and in that instance he sees you again. You were absolutely beaming. “That was like a bear hug.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Ghost says to himself. You just happened to be the only other person in the room to hear it too.

You take no mind to his words, chuckling at them in fact. “It’ll be our little secret, lieutenant.”

Simon. He felt himself about to tell you. His name is Simon, the man you speak to. The one you’ve been trying to see all night. Not that you even asked for his name; you never did ask for much from him.

Ghost steps into the empty hallway, feeling all the atmosphere and energy from your room shed off like a dead layer of skin. It won’t take very long for him to adjust back into his old habits, as they do die hard. Though he had a few more things to think about now. Great…

“Oh and Ghost!” you call to him from your doorway. Ghost turns, seeing your head peeking out from your room. “Don't be a stranger.”

Your door shuts, and yet he lingers in the hall a moment longer. Thinking. His head sags in defeat and he finally pries himself away.

...Chapter Eleven Here!

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michelle-languages · 3 years ago

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Improving speaking as an introvert

I don’t know about you guys, but I am quite shy when meeting new people, so as a language learner it’s tough finding a good language exchange partner. I still have difficulties because, after a while, the other side ghosts me, but well.. still decided to share some tips about how to improve your speaking skills as a multilingual introvert, from your beloved INFJ!

Focus on building few but solid relationships

One big misconception in the language learning community is that language exchange partners are there just for that specific purpose, but the truth is far from that. Behind the other screen, there’s another person as well, so instead of setting up the connection as a flat language exchange, consider building a relationship with that person, similar to what you would do in your daily life. Of course, for any introvert, this is more said than done, but maybe, not having to meet up physically at the beginning and using a phone as the main mean of communication, might help you open up a little bit

2. Join the events of a community you trust

I have been out of the studyblr and langblr games for a while, but maybe someone organizes language exchange events over too, otherwise, I highly recommend you to check out if there are any opportunities near you. Contrarily, if you prefer joining online groups and events, I suggest you check out Gladly Global’s Instagram account and wonderful Discord community, which is my second home now!

3. Try to approach language exchanges with a different mindset

Sometimes all we need is the help of a dead meme:

Allow yourself to be cringe and feel cringe, it’s part of the learning process as well, and maybe what you might find cringe, other people may find it funny af! You will never know if you don’t give things a try!

Just want to summarize this post quickly with THE supreme keyword: multilingual friendship, this is what you should aim for. Building a strong relationship with a like-minded person with whom you can talk in a different language or different ones as well!

#langblr #studyblr #languages tips #study tips #introvert #speaking #speaking languages

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yslkook · 4 years ago

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BRIGHT (2)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you and jungkook share a moment in a bookstore. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names…bc its me

“Oh, lighten up Jeon,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “You look like someone told you that your cat died.”

“The only kitty he wants won’t give him the time of day,” Mina grins, earning herself a glare from Jungkook.

“More like I can't get her time of day because her stupid best friend has a stick up her ass,” Jungkook mutters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Mei observes, “Our baby tattoo artist pining over a girl…”

“If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now, Mei,” Yoongi says pointedly, “Now stop wasting time meddling in Jungkook’s love life, Jin will have all of our heads-”

“Love life? I don’t have a love life,” Jungkook protests, eyes adorably round.

“And that’s why you’re so broody today, honey,” Mina teases, “More so than usual at least.”

“I am not broody,” Jungkook grumbles, turning his back on his laughing coworkers and friends. He can’t help but smile at their teasing.

“Oh, lighten up, Kookie,” Mei says lightly, clapping his shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, that girl couldn’t stop staring at you at Hobi’s birthday. And she definitely wants a piece of this.”

Jungkook ignores the raucous laughter of his friends (which only increases when Jin comes out from the backroom to add on to his suffering) and the reddening of his cheeks as he gets ready for his full day of tattoo consultations and appointments.

Jungkook’s day ends about an hour earlier than he had anticipated- his last client for the day had to reschedule due to a last minute conflict. That’s fine by him. It gives him time to stop by the bookstore a few blocks away from the tattoo parlor before it closes.

Jungkook tries his best to read at least one new book a month. He’s known the older shop owner, Jia and her young son, Jae-sung, for years now, as he had basically grown up with Jia from childhood.

He loves the quiet of the store and the immediate scent of vanilla and cedar that surrounds him as soon as he walks in. The bookstore itself has a vintage sort of feel, with dimmed lights, old shelves of mahogany and candles placed throughout the store.

Jungkook always brings croissants from the bakery nearby for Jia and little Jae-sung. Usually when he comes by, the bookstore is empty (or close to it).

Jae-sung screeches when he sees Jungkook walk in the door and immediately runs up to him, hugging his legs. Jungkook crouches, ruffling his hair fondly and Jae-sung is nearly bouncing off of the heels of his feet.

“Mommy say she have new book for you, Kookie!” Jae-sung beams, eyeing the box of croissants in Jungkook’s free hand.

“Does she?” Jungkook muses, “Your mommy always knows what kind of books I like.”

“Me too! Me too!”

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jia’s voice filters through the store as she approaches, “It’s been a while.”

“It took me a while to finish the last book. But so worth it,” He says apologetically, “I also brought croissants. Enjoy.”

“You spoil us,” Jia rolls her eyes, “The new arrivals are in the back, third aisle from the left. You know the drill.”

Jia has known Jungkook since he was a baby in diapers- she’s been his aunt’s close friend for years and years now. Jungkook likes to joke that he likes Jia more than his own aunt, and Jia always reprimands him (without really meaning it).

He thought the bookstore was empty, save for Jia and Jae-sung. But he’s clearly mistaken, when he sees a figure in an olive green sweater and black jeans perusing through the new arrivals with their bottom lip tucked between their teeth in concentration.

He recognizes them immediately and when the person raises their head in curiosity, he sees your wide eyes and a shy smile starting to pull across your lips.

You’re here, in his favorite bookstore where he feels like he’s at home. If he was looking for a sign, then this was it.

“Hi,” You say softly, waving your fingers at him, “So you like reading, huh?”

You visibly cringe and Jungkook chuckles. Your cheeks feel warm when you take him in, swirls and dots of his tattoos peeking out of his black leather jacket and beckoning you closer to him. The three hoops in his left ear glint with the light and the dangling earring on his right ear dangles with the movement of his head. His hair is tied back into a ponytail, accentuating the curve of his jaw and his soft dimples.

Your breath is stolen away when you meet his eyes, deep brown and murky, popping against the peach eyeshadow on his eyelids.

You nearly swoon on the spot before you get your bearings. Maybe he’d catch you if your knees buckled, you think dryly. How embarrassing.

“I try reading something new once a month,” Jungkook replies, pulling you out of your reverie, “And I just like the bookstore in general. Sometimes I like to just come here and hang out with Jia and Jae-sung.”

“Oh! Jia makes my favorite lavender chamomile tea. There’s nothing like it,” You say a little dreamily, “Jae-sung is a cutie. That boy can just look at you and you’d be putty in his hands. Kinda like you.”

The last bit slips out of your mouth without you meaning for it to.

“Kinda like me, huh,” Jungkook smirks, eyes glittering, “It would be fun to see if you’d be putty in my hands, wouldn’t it?”

“The world may never know,” You mumble sheepishly and avoid his eyes again, “What kind of book are you looking for?”

“The one you’re holding, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, looking past your shoulder for another copy of the same book.

“Are you looking for this book just because I’m reading it or because you’ve been genuinely eyeing it?” You ask boldly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Jungkook snorts, walking past you to grab the book off of the shelf.

“So I’ve been told,” Your eyes flash, “We should do a boozy book club.”

“Is it a book club if it’s just the two of us?”

“It can be whatever we want it to be,” You shrug, “Besides, don’t you wanna hang out with me?” You tilt your head and Jungkook’s resolve weakens. His heart does something funny- is this how it’s supposed to be?

“Of course I wanna hang out with you, baby,” Jungkook murmurs smoothly, “C’mon, let’s go have some of Jia’s tea. And a croissant too, if Jae hasn’t eaten them already.”

Jungkook glares at Jia the entire time that she’s making tea for both of you. He knows her sly, curious eyes and was unable to keep the surprise off of her face when you had both walked down the stairs together.

She even had the audacity to wink at him. He hopes that the family groupchat doesn’t start blowing up when Jia inevitably informs his aunt and mother about this new development.

“Kookie,” Jae-sung whispers (loudly) when you step away to use the bathroom, “Is dat your girlfriend?”

“What?” Jungkook hisses, “Who told you that?”

“My mommy say I ask you! I not know!”

“No, Jae, that’s not my girlfriend,” Jungkook mumbles, shooting Jia another death glare. She only smiles smugly at him from her spot behind the counter.

Jia leaves him alone for the most part when you return and take your seat next to him. He can still feel her eyes on you both as she washes teacups, watching like a hawk.

“These croissants are so good,” You nearly moan, “Where’d you get them?”

“There’s a bakery near the tattoo parlor,” Jungkook says, “You should come by sometime.”

“The bakery or the parlor?”

“Both?”

“I’ve only been there a few times,” You muse, “I hear you’re the best tattoo artist there. From the mouth of Hobi and Jin themselves.”

“Don’t let Mina and Mei hear you say that,” Jungkook says weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are a little pink and you resist chuckling to yourself.

“I’ve always wanted to get a second piercing,” You trail off, “But never really committed to it.”

“What would you want to get? We do piercings, too,” Jungkook says.

“Cartilage? Industrial? I don’t know,” You shrug, sipping your tea.

“Mina usually has a good eye for that,” Jungkook admits, “Now you have more of a reason to stop by.”

“Oh, I already had a reason to stop by the parlor,” You say brazenly with a sweet smile.

“Is that so?” Jungkook says, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You hum and continue to sip your tea, wondering if he can somehow hear the loud rattling of your eager heart in your ribcage.

Conversation with him comes so easily and you don’t know when the last time you had spent this long with him was. Something always seems to interrupt you both when you eventually do find yourselves alone with each other during outings with friends. But this time, it’s just you and him tucked away in this bookstore.

The sun has long gone down and Jia was about to close the bookstore for the day. In fact, the only reason she kept it open for this long was because of you both. You apologize profusely with worried eyes when you realize the time and see Jae-sung fast asleep in his mother’s arms.

She waves you off, giving Jungkook a lingering look that you don’t understand.

“I’ll be back soon,” You promise Jia in a soft voice, so as to not wake Jae-sung, “Be well, Jia.”

She bids you both goodnight, and unbeknownst to you, she shoots Jungkook a simple text. It states: “keep her close, i like her”.

Jungkook ignores it in favor of focusing on you.

“How you getting home, baby?” Jungkook asks as you both walk up the block shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmm… I’m supposed to meet Sora for dinner but she said she’s stuck at work,” You murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself as you scroll on your phone, “But I was just on social media and it looks like she’s getting drinks with her other friends…”

You look at him with a frown tugging at your lips and your eyes wide. “Maybe it was a last minute thing,” You mumble to yourself.

“Or maybe she lied to you,” Jungkook says sharply. You only look at him in silence for a few moments with furrowed brows.

“Maybe there was a reason,” You shrug, “Why would she lie about that?”

Because she’s Sora, and she just would. But Jungkook stays silent. You don’t need to hear about how he dislikes your best friend, at least not yet. Not when you’re not ready to hear it.

“Forget about her,” Jungkook says easily, “Lemme take you home, baby.”

“I’m not riding that metal death contraption,” You say flatly, “You just got it! Like two weeks ago! You don’t even have an extra helmet, and forget a helmet, I need elbow pads and knee pads-”

“Will you relax,” Jungkook says, putting your books in the small basket he built into the front of the motorcycle.

“No, I will not relax, Jeon Jungkook!” You nearly screech, “This is so dangerous, we could both fall in the road and then what? Become roadkill for the next soccer mom van to run us both over? Death by soccer mom, what a way to go-”

“Are you done?” Jungkook says dryly.

“No, actually, I’m not done-”

“You trust me, baby?” Jungkook asks, hand on your shoulder. You can’t even properly appreciate the warmth of his large hand over your jacket.

“Of course I trust you, I don’t trust that,” You point at the motorcycle accusingly and Jungkook rolls his eyes. You can already feel your resolve weakening. He wordlessly places his own helmet over your own head and you glare at him, about to start your tirade again.

“You take mine,” Jungkook murmurs, “And hold on to me.”

“You can’t just give me your helmet, what if you fall? Or worse, get pulled over?”

“Or worse, get pulled over, are you joking-”

“Jungkook! Be serious!”

“I am being serious! You said you only live ten minutes from here, just relax. I won’t let anything happen to either of us,” Jungkook says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“If anything happens, it’s your head on a platter and I’m bringing it to the tattoo parlor.”

“How can you do that if we both die?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You say, but a laugh escapes your lips. Jungkook sits on his bike and looks at you expectantly.

“C’mon, baby,” Jungkook coaxes you and you awkwardly sit behind him, making sure that your legs don’t touch his and your arms are safely away from him.

“If you sit like that, you’ll definitely fall off,” Jungkook snorts, “Wrap your arms around me.”

You hesitate, afraid of touching him like this for whatever reason. He unnerves you and you feel completely exposed like this. You’ve never really been this close to anyone, at least anyone who made you feel the way Jungkook makes you feel.

Biting the bullet, you tensely wrap your arms around his narrow waist loosely. “Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, “Tighter, baby. I don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Your stomach flips at his words, subconsciously wrapping your arms around his narrow waist even more tightly. Your fingers graze the hard press of his tummy over his jacket and you almost moan at how warm and strong he feels. He smells nice, like Sunday morning laundry.

“Ugh, you’re annoying-” And then you shriek as he pulls away from the road and shoots off into the night with you plastered against his backside.

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jungkook says, taking the helmet off of you. He’s met with a glare but you sigh in defeat.

“No, I guess it wasn’t. But I never want you driving this hunk of death without a helmet for yourself,” You say, poking his chest.

“You should be nicer to her,” Jungkook says, taking your finger in his large hand.

“You’re right, it’s you that I should be mean to,” You roll your eyes. You wonder if Jungkook could feel your heart slamming in your chest (in fear, adrenaline and excitement) as you hung tight to him. You had refused to look up, pressing your face into his back and squeezing your eyes shut the entire way. Jungkook had only chuckled.

The heat in your eyes melts away quickly once Jungkook helps you off of the motorcycle. “Thanks for taking me home, Jungkook,” You murmur, “I’m glad I ran into you at the bookstore.”

“Any time, baby,” Jungkook says. A strand of dark hair falls from his ponytail and into his face. You reach your fingers up to thread through his hair before pushing it back behind his ear for him.

“Get home safe,” You say, with stars in your eyes, “Can I hug you?” When he nods, and before you can change your mind or convince yourself out of it, you wrap your arms around him. And before he can properly return it, you dash into your apartment building while calling out “text me when you get home!”

Hours later, when he’s in the comfort of his home, he decides that he likes the way your spicy vanilla scented perfume clings to his leather jacket.

tags: @kookdbean @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #badboy jk #badboy jungkook

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mayans-sauce · 4 years ago

Text

Gemma’s Daughter (1/?)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Cursing, angst, yelling, cheating, heartbreak, physical fight

Request by anon which you can find HERE

A/N: thank you for the request! Sorry it’s a little late. I changed it up a bit by having Jax and Gemma still be alive as well as some other things. I’m really happy with how this turned out so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it <3

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Gif Credit: @pedropcl

This was the third time Angel’s phone went straight to voicemail. It was the middle of the night, and he said he would be home 3 hours ago for his and your movie night which at the end of it, you would share some thrilling life-changing news. You were worried sick about him not returning your calls, worried that something serious had happened. What if he was hurt? Or worse, dead? You decided to shoot him a text; maybe he was doing something important, making it so he couldn’t pick up right now.

📲 Angel😇

Baby, where are you? I’m worried! Please just let me know if you’re safe ok? I have something exciting to tell you. Love you❤️

You texted some of the other guys. None of them had heard anything from him. They told you not to worry. He was probably caught up with something and would turn up eventually. Luckily your brother Jax picked up when you called. You asked him for some guidance on if you should sound the alarm or wait until Angel gave off noise. Since he was in the same life as your husband, you figured he would know what’s best. He told you better to wait. That he was most likely dealing with something that had taken his full attention. If he didn’t turn up tomorrow, Jackson said he would take the drive over to help you look for him. You were so thankful for your big brother. He was always there to help you whenever he could. To protect and love you.

You refused to go to sleep before he came home or before he called you, so you knew he was safe and sound. Some movie was playing on the TV that you didn’t pay much attention to. The battle between you and your eyelids was still going strong. All of a sudden, you were woken up from your zombie state by the front door opening and closing. Footsteps that belonged to no other than Angel made their way into the dim-lit living room.

“Angel!” His movements were sort of clumsy. A sign that he had been drinking. You came to stand at his side. Holding him up by his forearm as it looked like he was going to faint face down ass up on the floor any second. Your nose scrunched up at the strong smell of the alcohol on him. “Angel, I was worried sick! Where were you?” “I was out with my brother.” His words had a pinch of sluggishness in them as he spoke. “We were supposed to have our movie night! We haven’t seen each other all week, and this was going to be our evening together.”

“Ugh,” he tugged himself out of your grasp, which took you by surprise. “Why are you so bossy all the time? I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.” His words started to sting a little, but you didn’t think that much of it. He was shitfaced drunk, and he wasn’t his usual self. “Angel I-“ “No, you listen here, I’m sick and tired of you always going; oh Angel this oh Angel that,” he tried to mimic your voice but failed miserably, “like shut up. Shut the fuck up for one goddamn second in your life and stop being so fucking clingy.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him. The tears in your eyes started to build up as you held two protective hands over your stomach. Your mouth was slightly agape in disbelief. “A-Angel ple-please-“ “No, I don’t fucking care right now. I’m leaving.” And just like that, he turned around and walked out. The force of the door slamming shut shook the whole house as you were left with an emptiness inside you.

The tears ran down your cheeks like it was pouring rain outside. Your body trembled at the anxiety and stress you were feeling at what just happened. You looked down at where your hands were laid over your stomach. “I-I’m so sorry li-little bean. I’m so so-sorry, my sweetheart.”

In the morning, you woke up in the worst state you have ever been in. The same clothes as yesterday were still on you. The pounding in your head wouldn’t seem to stop. Your eyes raw from crying, and your throat felt like rough sandpaper. Wrapping the blanket around yourself, you padded down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stared out the kitchen window, you saw your neighbor playing with their kids, which started the production of tears again.

A gasp left you of the sound from the front door opening and Angel’s voice calling for you. You met him in the living room—both of you staring at each other without saying a word. You should be mad at him, shouldn’t you? To scream at him for saying those hurtful things? But for some reason, your heart wouldn’t allow you to do so. You were just relieved that he had come home.

Angel was the first one to break the awkward silence. “Please… sit,” he pointed towards the sofa. You sat at one end while he took his place at the other. His face was in his hands. It looked like he had something to share with you. “Angel… what is it?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper. His eyes locked with yours and his heart broke when he saw what mess he had left you in. “I’m sorry for how I acted. Yelling at you like that…saying things that aren’t true… it’s not what you deserve. I don’t know what came over me and… I have something I need to tell you.” He looked up to you as tears welled up in his eyes. You gave him a slight nod, a sign that he could go ahead with whatever it was.

“When I left in the night, I was supposed to go over to pop's house to sleep. I didn’t take the bike because I was too shitfaced to drive, so I went on foot hoping that it would sober me up… and... I just kept walking and walking until I found myself… not at Felipe’s.” He peeked up to you from where he was looking down at the floor just a moment ago. His heart broke into microscopic pieces when he saw on your face that you knew where his story was most likely going. As much as he didn’t want to finish, he had to. He had to come clean and straight with you. You deserved that much.

“I found myself at Adelita’s place… and… we hooked up.” The silence after he said that was hefty and long. Once again, he was the one to break it. “Querida… it’s the biggest fucking mistake I have ever made in my fucking life. I don’t know what the fuck came over me to do something like that to you… to us.”

He tried to get a hold of your hand, but you pulled away in disgust. You didn’t want him to touch you after he had been feeling all up on her in the night while you were home alone crying yourself to sleep. You had no words, none. Your mouth was opening and closing, but nothing seemed to escape it. “Please say something.” “Where is she?” “I don’t see ho-“ “Goddammit Angel, just tell me where the fuck she is!” The scream you let out startled him. “Sh-she’s at the clubhouse… there was some emergency that needed to be taken care of, and it couldn’t wait till later.”

At lightning speed, you had grabbed the car keys and were out the door. Angel registered what the fuck was going on when he heard the engine's roar from the car. He was quick to his feet and on his bike to try and catch up before you did anything stupid.

Not thinking straight, you barge through the Templo doors to be met with Adelita and the rest of the MC standing over a map planning something. “Sweetheart, you aren’t supposed to be here,” Bishop said with a stern manner. You didn’t hear him. You didn’t care that you weren’t supposed to be in the room. All you could think about was the rage filling you up as she stood there gloating at you. A smug look on her face that you knew where your man had been last night, all cozy and tangled up together in her sheets.

She didn’t expect you to jump her and start beating the shit out of her; she knew you weren’t that type of girl, so it startled her when you did. That’s when Angel walked in out of breath and saw the scene in front of him that had him stand dead in his tracks as he watched. Your hands punched and scratched as you screamed, "I'm the mother of his child, not you bitch! Don’t ever touch him again!” You didn’t register what you said, and now everyone knew. She tried to fight back, but you were much more powerful than her.

It took the guys a few moments to pull you off as they were in sheer shock at what was going on in front of them. You were usually a shy and sweet girl that wouldn’t even hurt a fly. They were surprised that you so quickly took her down. Once pulled off, Taza escorted Adelita out since it was time for her to leave. “How in the fuck did you do that?” They almost said in unison. "Jax may be my brother, but my mother is Gemma, and you definitely don’t want to fuck with us.” You knew your mother would be proud of you for standing up for yourself and for putting that bitch in her place.

“Wait… you’re pregnant.” “Yes, Angel, I’m fucking pregnant, and you’ve just fucked up our whole relationship, our future.” The tears that were threatening to spill were managed to be put under control by your choice of not showing any of them how you truly felt, sad, empty, alone, and betrayed by Angel’s choices of thinking with his dick and not his fucking brain.

You were about to storm out when he grabbed you by the forearm. “Wait, please… we can fix this! Please let me fix this dulce.” “No, Angel,” you twisted your arm to get loose of his grip; the touch of him made you cringe, “the damage has already been done. I can’t fucking stand to look at you. Not now. I’m going home… I’m going home to Charming for a while.” And with that, you left Angel there to mend his broken pieces at losing the two of you…

To Be Continued

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading❤️ A quick reblog and feedback would be so appreciated❤️ Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @browneyes912 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites @lilacyennefer @smallflower16 @marvelmaree @brwnlikefoxy @kaylaygrace @stupiddsapphicc @violet624 @boomclapxox @mijop @macgruberrr @queen-under-the-shire @missihart23 @vixemi @heeeeeres-saint @paintballkid711 @x-goddess-of-nature-x @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mrsmarvelous1995

ANGEL REYES TAGLIST: @spnaquakindgdom @Negansnympho89

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nire-the-mithridatist · 2 years ago

Note

🎀 - What’s a character you like writing for and why? / 🍭 - Favorite things to write about / 🍙 - What story you've written had the biggest impact on you? / 🌵 - Is there anything you would like to share about your original fiction?

🎀 - What’s a character you like writing for and why?

Wen this is mean! I have so many! Currently I am of course obsessed with my Spy x Fam blorbos. Cannot get over this one spy dude who acts all cool but actually cares the mostest. Apologizes three times to a dog that bit him. Is the best husband and dad. No this is all just for the mission, what are you talking about, he's a spy and taking his family to an aquarium trip is also a mission. And his wife, perfect and can do no wrong, extremely shy and awkward but the most astute mother, has killed so many people and has the tenderest heart in the world. And their daughter, a telepathic peanut. I love them all 😭

🍭 - Favorite things to write about

I answered this earlier (sense of belonging! finding a home!) But another thing I like to write about is unreliable narrators. Not in a horror/plot twisty kind of way, but just... They're bad about their own feelings. Or reading the feelings of others. And they're misunderstanding the situation. And they're totally not pining!!! So fun to write. Best character genre.

🍙 - What story (fanfiction or published work) had the biggest impact on you?

So i answered this already but i interpreted it as a story i read that has the biggest impact on me (the answer is Harry Potter because it's how I learned English) but which story I've written...

Hm.

Neither fanfiction or published work, but this was an original novel draft I co-wrote with my cousin, where we emailed the draft back and forth. It has been lost to the depths of my defunct yahoomail and will never see the light of day again (and it shouldn't, it's cringe as hell) but I was fully high on just writing whatever the fuck I wanted. I had a witch self insert and she has a tragic past and there's a boy love interest who does archery very good because archery is hot, and i will never top the kind of unhinged storytelling of that moment tbh. I can try, but I'm too worried about writing something bad to ever let loose like that again.

🌵 - is there anything you want to share about your original fiction?

YES so i've been writing original fiction again and. Hahaha omg related to the answer above: this one is also about witches. It's two witches in modern day, and they're girlfriends. And it's. Actually fun to write? Wild! I didn't have a sense of character voice when I started it, but then I rewrote it in first person and I found her voice immediately. Her name is Naya. She's tall, dark, and kind of a dick, but she loves her girlfriend Isabel very very much. Too bad Isabel is dead! Someone should do something about that.

#ask game

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved.

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it.

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me.

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free.

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

#sykkuno #sykkuno fanfic #sykkuno fanfiction #sykkuno x reader #sykkuno x y/n #x reader #reader #reader insert #x y/n #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #among us #requests open #requests #fluff #love #crush #happy

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isntthisenoughwhatwouldbeenough · 5 years ago

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You’re The Voice In My Head (Polyhamilsquad x Reader)

A/N: Another completed request! I hope you are all doing well and that you enjoy this, especially @random-thoughts-003 I hope you like this! And thank you so so much for requesting! All of the readers thoughts are in italics and the boys are in bold italics, just in case it confuses anyone. As always I wish you all the most wonderful of days and I’m sending you all my good vibes.

Soulmates. Something you had learned about from a young age. Your parents had found each other when they were just thirteen years old and they had been inseparable ever since. Growing up hearing their story always made you long to find your soulmate. You would listen intently whenever you met someone new or went somewhere new. You dreamed of having the same story your parents did, that same sweet, unyielding love they had for each other.

Unfortunately, you didn’t find your soulmate throughout your middle school years, high school years or even in college. By the time college came around you pretty much gave up on finding your soulmate, thinking you were one of those people who just didn’t have one. You had become resigned to your fate and learned to deal with the fact that you didn’t have a soulmate. You used to get upset by the fact that there were people who had multiple soulmates, that could hear each other's thoughts. How unfair that one person can have more than one and I don’t even have one?

You of course had everyone around you, telling you that your soulmate was out there, be patient, they’ll find you when you least expect it. You had heard it all and had decided to stop listening. You were fine, you were happy on your own, besides soulmates are overrated anyway.

With this mentality you lived your life day to day, looking for little things to find the most joy in. One of those things? Your local record store. You walked in saying hello to the cashier, before heading back to browse through the records.

Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi started playing over the speakers. You smiled to yourself as you started humming along.

“I’m a cowboy on a steel horse I ride, I’m wanted (Wanted) Dead or alive, Wanted (wanted) Dead or alive…..oh and I Ride!”

God, that’s a great song.

What did you say?

You stop what you’re doing when you hear the voice. You look on either side of you and then behind you, but don’t see anyone. You shake your head at yourself.

That what was weird, guess it was all in my head.

What was?

You stop and look around again, this time you see a man who looks around your age with long, dark hair tied back and brown eyes.

“Did you just say something?” You ask, looking at him warily.

“That depends,” he replies.

“On?”

“On what you heard.”

“A question I guess, two actually,” you try to explain. You shake your head at yourself.

No, it was all just in my head.

Technically you’re right, but it's me you’re hearing.

You look up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see his mouth move with the words you’re hearing.

You can hear me, can’t you?

You shake your head in response and disbelief.

“You can!” He says aloud, excitedly. “Say something in your head again.”

I can’t believe this happening.

“This is very much happening,” he smiles widely.

You look at him still shocked and confused.

“So,” you start slowly, trying to wrap your head around this, “we’re soulmates.”

“Yes,” he smiles, “yes we are.” He laughs lightly. “You look thoroughly shocked. What did you think you’d never find me?”

“No, I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I thought I was one of those people who just didn’t have one.”

He smiles gently walking closer until he was standing right in front of you. He takes your hands in his.

“Well, love, turns out you’re one of the lucky ones.”

And that’s when you feel it. The Ties or Strings, your parents called them. They said it was like there was invisible strings that tied you to your soulmate the moment you touched. You were bound to each other.

You exhale and a smile finally graces your face.

Beautiful.

You look up to see him staring at you and your smile grows and before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into an embrace. You feel no hesitation from him, instantly wrapping you up in his arms. You’re stunned by how right it feels to be in this strangers' arms.

You release your hold on him and he does the same. You step back with a shy smile and hold out your hand.

“I’m (Y/N), thought maybe you should know name, seeing as were soulmates and all.”

He chuckles at you and grasps your hand with his.

“Alexander, but feel free to call me, Alex.” He smiles at you. “I mean seeing as were soulmates and all.”

You laugh as your cheeks flush.

“How about we go get some coffee and get to know each other a little better,” he releases your hand only to grab your other.

You look at your intertwined hands and back up at him.

“Well, I don’t usually go out with people I've just met, but since your soulmate I guess it's alright.”

He throws his head back as he laughs and you find you like that, that he was happy, that you made him happy. It made your heart stutter in the most wonderful way.

“Come on,” he says as he pulls you along.

You make it to the coffee shop and Alex can’t stop smiling. You keep taking shy glances at him and it takes him a moment to realize your hands hadn’t come unclasped.

You both ask each other a stream of questions about your respective lives and find you have a similar taste in music.

“Anyway, my parents wake up and my sister and I are covered in extinguisher fluid, my brother is covered in pancake batter and my mothers favorite carpet is ruined.”

You laugh retelling the story of how you and your siblings once started a small fire while trying to make pancakes.

“Oh my god,” he laughs along in disbelief, “what did your parents do?”

“Well, we were all grounded for one week and banned from ever using the kitchen without their supervision,” you chuckle and shrug. “Wasn’t that bad if you think about it.”

He chuckles once more before turning serious.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly.

“Yeah,” he nods, looking lost in thought. “Its just,” he pauses, “there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Have you ever heard anyone else before?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion.

“The way I heard you today?” He nods. “No, I never have.” You pause, he still looks lost in thought, looking down at the table. “Have you?”

He looks up at you now, a small bit of fear in his eyes as his hand tightens for a moment on yours. As if he’s afraid you’ll run away.

“I”- he starts and stops. “I have.”

“You have?”

“Yes, but not just one.” He cringes as he makes his confession.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

“I have three other soulmates,” he says quickly.

“Oh my god,” your hand slips from his for the first time since you met, as you place them on your head. “Three soulmates,” you repeat trying to wrap head around it.

It's not unheard of sure, but three. You just found out you actually had a soulmate and now he has three other soulmates.

What if they can’t hear me? What if I can’t hear them? What if I only hear one of them? Or two of them? What if they ask him to choose? I can’t ask him to give up his soulmates. What if they don’t like me? What if-

Your racing thoughts are cut off by Alex’s gentle touch on your arm.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says trying to calm you. “Your thoughts are making me dizzy,” he chuckles.

“What if"-

“They would never make me choose and I know they’re going to love you,” he caresses your face. “Everything is going to be okay.”

You sigh, calming at his touch. He moves to sit next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pull you close.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve got a feeling,” he says brushing his nose against yours before kissing it.

You giggle and snuggle into him.

Everything is going to be okay.

I promise.

You smile and look up at him, he smiles down at you and kisses your forehead.

You decide it’s too much in one day to meet so many soul mates at once so you both decide to do it a few days later. You’re incredibly nervous as Alex walks you up the steps to the apartment, he shares with his other soul mates and quite possibly yours.

He turns to you.

"You sure you're ready for this?"

You nod and give him a nervous smile.

He smiles and kisses your hand in his.

"I told them to be on their best behavior, so don't worry."

You chuckle lightly and squeeze his hand.

You take a deep breath as he opens the door. And you're immediately greeted with an onslaught of thoughts.

Oh, they’re back.

She’s finally here.

Gosh, I really hope all of this works.

Everything is going to be fine, don't worry.

Oui, mon cher, we'll all be alright.

Remember Alex wanted us to try and quiet our thoughts so we don't overwhelm her.

You pause in the doorway as you hear them all at once.

Alex grabs your arms to steady as you sway a bit.

"Are you okay, love?"

You laugh to yourself as you gain your balance and you realize you don't have to worry. You can hear them. All three of them in your head, three distinctive voices. Not only that, but you can feel the same pull you felt with Alex. The strings tying you to your three other soulmates. You look up at Alex.

"I can hear them," you say with a breathless smile.

Four soulmates, there's something I never thought would happen.

"You can?" He smiles brightly at you.

You nod with the same smile.

"You better start believing baby because we can hear you too."

You and Alex turn to see your three other soulmates, three of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

The tallest one comes to greet you. His smile is gentle and warm, you're surprised by how much you want to run into his arms.

"It’s wonderful to meet you, Alex has told us so much about you. My name is Hercules." He gently takes your hand in his and kisses the back of your hand softly.

I don’t think I’ve ever met so many handsome men at once before.

Hercules smiles at you still holding your hand.

"Well, thank you," he chuckles. "I don’t think we’ve ever been graced with a woman as beautiful as you."

Your cheeks redden as you realize they all heard the thought.

You look behind him to see the two other men smiling from ear to ear. They are next to approach you, the one with the French accent is the first to introduce himself.

"I am Gilbert du Montier de Lafayette." He chuckles as your eyes widen. "But you, mon ange, can call me Lafayette."

He kisses your hand, much like Hercules and gives you a dazzling smile.

"And me, baby girl, I’m John Laurens, call me anything you'd like."

I cannot wait to hold you in my arms.

You smile at him.

“Well consider your waiting done.” You hold out your arms to him and he is quick to embrace you. You giggle as he nuzzles your neck. You’re once again surprised by how right it feels to be in his arms.

Lafayette is next to embrace you after John is convinced to let you go, he quickly goes into Alex’s waiting embrace. Laf holds you close and releases a breath, like he’s been waiting just to hold you and he can finally relax. He kisses your temple before he pulls away and lets Hercules have his turn.

Herc embraces you gently at first, as if your too precious to hold too tightly. He holds you tighter, when you nuzzle into his chest.

I hope you can get used to this, cupcake, because it won’t be letting up.

Get used to this? Definitely.

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head and pulls away slightly to look at you. He caresses your face as you look up at him.

“You sure you can handle all of us?”

You look away from Hercules and at your three other soulmates, staring at you expectantly with hopeful smiles.

“Can I handle being loved by four incredibly handsome and kind men?” You pretend to think about it, as they laugh. “Yeah,” you nod, “I think I can handle that.”

6 Months Later...

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.

You hear Alex’s voice running through your mind, as you get ready on this particularly hectic morning since you all woke up late.

“Shouldn’t he be thinking we’re late,” John says as he slides next to you to fill his thermos with coffee as you hand him Alex’s ready to go. “We do work in the same place.”

You chuckle as you place a soft kiss to his lips and then his cheek.

“You know how one track minded Alex can be,” you placate him, rubbing his arm.

He pulls you into his arms and kisses your cheek and down to your neck.

“I think I might being getting one track minded with you,” he whispers in your ear making laugh breathlessly.

You pull him away slightly with a smile.

“Your mind should be on work,” you give him a quick kiss before pulling way completely and fixing his suit.

He sighs.

“But when we get back my minds going back,” he smirks and kisses your cheek.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “Now, you have to get going.”

You walk behind him and lightly push him out of the kitchen.

“Alex, darling, breakfast,” you catch him just as he’s running past you to the door.

You hold out a bag for him to take and he grabs it quickly and continues, before pausing turning back and pulling you into his arms and kissing tenderly. He’s pulls away smiling.

“Thank you,” he says as he gives you a last quick peck. “I love you,” he shouts as he walks out the door.

John shakes his head and pulls you into him for a quick kiss of his own.

‘We’ll see you tonight, baby girl,” he kisses your cheek before heading out after Alex.

You laugh to yourself and turn right into Lafayette's arms.

“Have our frantic lovers left, mon ange?” He asks, as he pulls you close and nuzzles your neck.

You giggle softly and play with his hair as he hums into your neck.

“Yes, they just walked out, although I have to say one was far more hectic than the other.”

He feel him laugh into your neck before he pulls back to place a slow, soft kiss to your lips.

“I can’t believe we have to work on a Saturday,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, my love, but at least we’ll all have tonight and tomorrow to spend all together,” you try to soothe him.

He nods and caresses your cheek.

“At least,” he kisses you softly once more, before going to the bedroom.

He walks back out a few minutes later. You’re at the table finishing your coffee, and he lifts your head so you’re looking up at him. You smile and rise up from your seat so you can embrace him. He wraps his arms around you kisses your neck once.

“I will miss you, mon ange,” he says brushing some of your hair from your face.

“The day will fly by, and we’ll all be here waiting when you’re done.”

You smile gently and press your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“Now, go before you’re late, my love.”

He smiles and kisses your hand before heading for the door. You turn to head back to the kitchen, when his voice whispers in your mind.

I love you, mon coeur.

You smile as you turn back to him and think your response.

I love you.

He smiles brightly at you before closing the door behind him. As you begin washing the dishes from the quick breakfast you and Herc made this morning, you feel his arms circle around your waist. He kisses your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I’m glad I only have to go in a couple hours today.”

“I know at least I get one of you for most of the day,” you reply turning in his arms. “That's the benefit of having multiple soulmates, you’ll always have one of them with you.”

He laughs and kisses your temple, cheek and places a tender kiss to your lips.

“Truly a wonderful benefit, cupcake,” he bumps your nose with his before lifting you into his arms.

“Babe!” You giggle in surprise.

“I think we should get in some quality cuddles while we miss our soulmates together.”

“A wise suggestion, love,” you nod seriously in agreement.

He smiles wide as he jumps on the bed with you in his arms making you laugh in unison.

Later that evening as you’re snuggled in bed with all your lovers you sigh in contentment.

Happy, baby girl?

You laugh as you snuggle deeper into Johns chest.

With all of you? Always.

He pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head.

I am also happiest with you, mes amours.

Laf chimes in, from behind John.

I love you all so much.

Alex is next to think out from behind you.

Nothing is better than this.

Herc is the last to say, as you all snuggle in closer.

You never thought you could be lucky enough to end up with one soulmate, but now you had four and they were they best people you had ever met. You had never felt more loved, more cherished, or more complete in your life. Of course, you could say that’s a given once you’ve found your soulmate, but you’re pretty positive you’ve got the best ones out there. And as you slip into sleep you’re further convinced of the fact as you hear a gentle chorus of ‘I love yous’ in your mind.

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blackberry-gingham · 4 years ago

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I just finished reading your Teddy!Beatles and Square!Reader fic and it inspired this prompt and it’s extra chessy cause cringe culture is most certainly dead. When the lads notice the feelings between George and the Reader but no action they decided to take matters into their own hands and set up George and Reader themselves! They phone Reader pretending to be George and ask Reader out on a date and similarly come up with a plan to invite George.

(Hey! This is the prompt anon is referring to!)

Lmaoooo I love it! Perhaps the boys should consider voice acting at this rate 😂😂 Also, sorry this took sooooo loooong btw 💀💀 I’m trying to do follow up requests like these first from now on so things make more sense on the time line skskssk

I just hope the wait was worth it, and thank you for the request! Enjoy!

---

It's been a few weeks now since the big gig break out, and all went according to plan... The gig was a smash hit of course, and to top that off, neither you nor the boys were caught for skipping.

But in the meantime, something... interesting, has been going on between you and George.

Stealing glances. Shy giggling. Sitting beside each other at your lunch table. Walking home together after school...

It's obvious to the three of them that there's a match to be made here. George is one of the lads and well, they've known you long enough to know that the two of you'd be good together. So naturally they've been waiting for George to make a move at lunch or school. Or even, just to be surprised one day with the big news!

But they wait. And wait. And wait.... Nothing.

And after yet another day at lunch with nothing more then some shy glances and a half hearted flirtation that didn't translate as such... John pulls Paul and Ringo aside for a talk.

"This had better be worth it Lenny, if get late to class one more time i-"

"Yeah yeah, of course- Anyway... I can't be the only one here who sees what's happening with George and square, right?"

Paul and Ringo nod.

"Good, cause I'm sick of it! I say, we need to help them along..."

"And how do you propose that..."

"... I don't know, bu-!"

Paul rolls his eyes and walks off. He really can't be late again...

"Wha- Now hold on Paulie, we're supposed to brainstorm!", John jogs after Paul, leaving Ringo to catch up. But, while those two bicker on their way to class, the gears start turning in Ringo's mind...

Later, after school is out and you and George have spilt off, Ringo shares his plan. "So uh, I was thinking..."

"Well, first time for everything..."

John elbows Paul in the ribs, "Go on Ringo!"

"Well, you know how last time we got square out of school with that call? Well... What if we use that same trick and get the two of 'em out on a date!"

"Now that's just plain stupid! We got lucky pulling that trick last time, there's no way we can get away with it twice. And Anyway, how is this even supposed to wo-?"

"Oh shut up Paul! This is brilliant! Listen here, we'll call square, pretending to be George right? We, as George, pick a time and place to meet, then all we have to do is make sure we bring George to the same spot, and boom! Bob's your uncle!"

Ringo nods excitedly, while Paul stands silently with a sour face. It could work... but he has pretty high doubts.

Later that week, the lads wait until they know George is occupied somewhere else, and not with you to make their move. Today he's in town helping his mum, and you're at home diligently doing your homework.

John rubs his hands together and approaches the phone, "Alright mates, I'll go si-"

"What? But you went last time! Besides, it was my idea!", Ringo cuts in and takes a few steps towards the phone himself.

Paul gives an exasperated sigh and snatches the phone off the hook, "Are you two kidding? With those big hooters? You know square isn't deaf, yeah? The whole point is to sound like George, you clods!"

"Oh... Yeah...", Ringo looks as though he'd forgotten that little detail, while John claps a hand to his nose.

Paul dials your number and it begins to ring.

"It's not big!", John retorts.

"Is too!", Paul puts a hand over the speaker and whisper yells back, before shushing the two quickly.

"Hello?"

Right before their very eyes, Paul seems to become a different person. He leans on the wall casually, and in a scarily good George impression, Paul responds, "Hey square! Whatcha doing?"

"Who-? Wait a minute.. Sorry, I think my phone is acting up, you sound a bit off... But anyway, hi Georgie!”

Paul must be dreaming, it can’t be this easy. He’ll never hear the end of it from John...

“Just finishing that chemistry work I was helping you with yesterday. Oh, I meant to ask! How'd that do for you? I was worried I was going to fast..."

Paul manages to shake himself out of his daze, keeping up the charade without a hitch, "No no! It went fine, thanks!"

"Oh good! Anyway, did you need anything? I thought you were out in town today?"

"Uh, there was a change in plan! Yeah, and with all the free time, it got me thinking... Would you like to um, meet up?"

John clenches and bares his teeth, making a severe face at Paul, "You're blowing it"

Paul makes a face back, demanding silence, while you ask if he needs more homework help tonight. "No no, I mean like... Maybe as a date, you know?"

You gasp, "Oh George I'd love to! Do you have a where and when in mind?"

Paul suspends his disbelief once more and turns to the lads for ideas. Ringo holds an imaginary ice cream cone and licks it furiously a few times, while John mouths the word "Saturday" and holds up two fingers.

"Uh, how about Mr Whippys... Saturday at 2?"

"Sounds great, I'll be there!"

"Great! S-see you then!"

You say your goodbyes and Paul hangs the phone it's receiver. Either he’s really good at impersonating George, or he needs to have a talk with you about gullibility…

"Does George know you can do that?"

"Yeah, could've fooled me even", Ringo marvels.

"Thanks, I thought I did a right good job too... and anyway, square seemed convinced, eh?"

The other two nod in agreement. "Now uh, how do we get George?"

The three are silent for a moment, then John smiles deviously, "Not to worry lads, I think I have a plan..."

Luckily, George is kept in the dark on his friend's shenanigans and Saturday arrives the next morning. All four teds walk down the sidewalk in town, and as far as George knows, this is just some guy time with the lads.

They chat and joke all the way till they reach the top of the hill with Mr Whippys just over the crest. And right on schedule, you’re waiting patiently outside the double glass doors. Time to execute the plan...

John breaks up the chatter with a loud voice, “Hey George, look, it’s square!”, he points right at you in a grand gesture to snare George’s attention.

George perks up, “Really? Oh, so it is!” In what could possibly be a subconscious effort, he straightens his leather jacked then licks his hand and runs it over his pompadour.

Trying very hard not to groan at his love sick friend, Paul gives George a hard shove in your direction, making him stumble several steps forward. “Hey! What wa-?”, but when he turns around to look, the other three have vanished into an alley way like thieves in the night.

Of course, with all the noise, you spot George at last and walk over briskly, “George! There you are!” You look fantastic, all done up and ready for a proper night about town. George’s heart feels as though it’s about to beat out of his chest at the sight of you.

He takes a gulp of air, “H-here I am?”

“Yes silly! For our date!”, you take his hand, and if George though his heart was beating hard before, now it feels set to burst. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”, you tease, as you walk to the ice cream parlor together.

“Our... date... I, um”, George throws a few looks over his shoulder, just barely catching sight of his three mates. Ringo and John snicker while Paul gives him an exaggerated wink and a thumbs up. George looks back at you, and sees the utter joy written in your eyes as you glance over at him.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together... He doesn’t know how they pulled this off, but that’ll have to be saved for later.

George takes a breath and smiles confidently back as he grips your hand properly, “Course I didn’t forget! There’s nowhere I’d rather be...”, he gives you a wink and your hand a little squeeze before he releases you to open the door. You give a shy giggle and thank him.

Before George follows you in, he takes one last look at the others. They’re out on the sidewalk now, high fiving each other, while John appears to be bragging. At George’s staring, they stop. George smiles gratefully and gives his friends a little salute as they whoop and cheer him on.

Their shouts follow him into the parlor until the glass seals them out.

He couldn’t ask for better mates.

#the beatles #george harrison x reader #teddy!beatles #teddy!george #highschool au

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feisty-spirit-bear · 4 years ago

Text

Writing Lessons from Harry Potter

So, I just barely finished rereading Harry Potter for the first time in like 8 years, maybe more, so since it’s been a while and I learned a lot with fresh(ish) eyes that I thought might be fun to share for other aspiring writers.

The Do’s:

Consistent Characters through Actions- All the characters in the books are incredibly consistent. Before we even know that there is tension between purebloods and muggle-borns or that blood-traitors even exist, JKR lays the stones with Malfoy’s and Ron’s characters in their first conversations with Harry. It’s very cool how she knew who her characters were from the outset and shows us what they are like through their actions.

Character Flaws-- JKR doesn’t shy away from character flaws and complexity (something that got watered down in the movies significantly, unfortunately) and it’s fantastic. Harry tries to use the Cruciatus Curse multiple times in books 5-7 and its dark and gritty. Everyone (even my beloved, angel Remus) has complexity and flaws that feel realistic, human, and that she embraces in her writing. She doesn’t try to make any of the characters a perfect hero.

Chekhov’s Guns -- These vary in how well they work (but not everything can be a slam dunk), but her consistent set-up before the pay-off is prime writing. These make the books feel realistic and grounded among the fantasy, as well as the added bonus of making it fun for the re-read to see how often Dumbledore mentions Aberforth.

Reusing characters vs Making new ones: This is a hard thing to balance and I think JKR balances it great. By reusing characters, she gives the world a sense of cohesion that would be missing if there was a bottomless pit of new characters at every turn (ex we know Cedric from Quidditch before the Triwizard Tournament and there are a lot of adult characters that come up again and again throughout the books, their role getting bigger and bigger as time goes on). But by knowing when to balance this with new introductions, JKR keeps the Wizarding World feeling expansive and deep and not like just a handful of families having a brawl.

Why They are the Way that They Are: This is related to “consistent characters” but JKR was great at starting from the very beginning with her characters. Everyone has a past and everyone is a product of that past. We don’t have many characters act in unexplainable ways that are left unexplained. Even Kreacher is explained; at first we think he’s awful because his Masters were awful, but then we realize that it’s because he hasn’t been able to fulfill an order from Regulus for over a decade. This gives the characters a sense of wholeness.

The Don’ts:

“Fly on the Wall” Syndrome: JKR suffers from what I’ve decided to call “Fly on the Wall” Syndrome. Almost 90% of the time, if not more, whenever there is an Information Dump taking place that Harry is listening to, Harry becomes inert and it feels like he ceases to exist. Instead of getting piece by piece reactions from him as he listens, we get pages on pages of exposition and only once its over do we get a bit of what Harry is thinking/feeling. With these uninterrupted pages of information, it feels like Harry disappears and he may as well not be hearing what we’re reading because these are BIG reveals and WE are having a reaction to, but Harry is a stone cold robot. It just takes one of the pitfalls of part of writing (exposition) and makes it even worse. In the movies, we get to see Harry’s facial expressions as these reveals happen, but in the book he just seems to disappear. (Prisoner of Azkaban is honestly the worst of all the books at this, but the pattern holds up for all 7).

“And Then Everyone Clapped”: This is one that is tricky because I have a feeling that the fact these are “children’s” books might have something to do with this, but it’s still always irksome to me every time it happens. (This is really more of a nitpick because everything else is about technique but lemme have it okay?). Way too often in the books, there are times when “everyone cheered” that feel way cringe and super unrealistic. To be fair, a lot of the instances are semi-warranted (House Cup, Quidditch) but the way it’s written feels too much like Harry just became a fake internet troll. But the final duel between Harry and Voldemort in book 7 is just akkkkghhgh. I just don’t think that people that have been mourning over 50 dead family members and friends for the past hour after hours of combat would be cheering in the face of Voldemort himself. It’s war. People don’t usually cheer and clap during such tense situations. Just felt weird. I know what she was going for but it just didn’t land for me.

Loss of Scale: This is also a bit of a nitpick, but more technique based at least. When rereading the books, I was surprised how much pain Harry went through on a regular basis because I didn’t remember many of the instances that were described as “agony” and when Harry thought he was going to die from the pain (I was also surprised because it seemed dark for kid’s books but the age range for these books is a mystery to everyone). As I kept reading, the pattern started to emerge and I think I know what happened-- nearly every instance of Harry’s pain beyond minor bumps and bruises were skull-cleaving agony. It felt like Harry was always operating at either a 2 or a 20; his scar was either tingling or about to kill him, he was either barely burned/scratched/ached or throwing up in pain. There are some exceptions to this where he hovered at a 6 or 7 (ex: Umbridge’s detentions) but I think that the constant highs made it hard for the events to feel separate from each other.

Audience Doesn’t Know What Harry Knows: This last one is also a bit of a nitpick because for the MOST part, the audience finds out information as Harry does. There are a handful of times, though, when the only reason the reader doesn’t know it is because JKR was waiting for that Dramatic Moment, but it feels undeserved when we don’t see the dots connecting. The biggest example of this is Harry figuring out that the Elder Wand belongs to him; both Dumbledore and Harry seem to be on the same page that the Wand was loyal to Snape and then Voldemort killed him so it is rightfully Voldemort’s. We never know that Harry is questioning this or having any sort of internal dialogue about other possibilities, but when they are face-to-face in the Great Hall, then Harry drops the bombshell that actually, it was Draco’s and now Harry’s. This comes out of absolutely nowhere and doesn’t feel like a set-up and pay-off but more like a fumbling card trick that worked at the last second. For the most part though, she doesn’t have this problem, but when it happened it wasn’t great.

So yeah that’s what I learned about writing from rereading the Harry Potter books after a long hiatus. I don’t even write prose so I don’t know how relevant this will be for graphic novels, guess we’ll find out later byeeeeee

#harry potter #jkr #jk rowling #harry potter books #writing #writing critique #writing analysis #writing tips #writing advice #story #story structure

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yandere-society · 6 years ago

Note

maybe a one shot with Taehyung getting jealous to the point of hurting another BTS member? Preferably x reader.

Devil’s Fair Share

By: @roses-ruby

Word Count: 14,423

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Yandere, Unprotected sex, Oral (F receiving), Spanking, Possessiveness, Possessive talk, Violence

A/N: Guess who it is:D aha! I’m back at it again with this fuckery. I hope this is what you wanted anon, It’s my first time posting on this account so I hope I didn’t mess anything up! This is longer than I expected but well :) what can you expect from me. Edited but…I’m dumb so there might be mistakes. Okay, luvs. Enjoy!

Taehyung hated you for many reasons.

He hated that you were a busybody, always trying to get into everyone’s business with a help everyone mentality painted across your forehead. He hated how much time you took to tell a single story. Going on and on about God knows what. And he absolutely despised how much you hung out with them – or rather him on an average basis.

Which is why he was practically sneering at you from his table, as he watched you chatting in line while waiting to pay your bill.

Just because he was staring at you, didn’t mean he didn’t notice some of Jungkook’s sneaky fingers making their way for his fries.

“Cut it out, Jeon.” He scowled when the tip of the younger’s index touched a particularly long fry which was sticking out of the basket.

Jungkook retracted his hand like he was burned and let out a sigh, “There’s like a thousand in there! And you didn’t even eat them. Why’re you so mean?”

It’s not that he didn’t want to consume them, it’s just that he lost his appetite after seeing your face appear from behind him when he entered the Deli on the bottom floor of their BigHit. He didn’t even want the sack of frozen stale fried potatoes, deciding to quietly munch on his small sandwich throughout lunch instead. But whatever the case – they were still his fries. Taehyung ignored the pouting of the man child sitting next to him to zero in on you who was laughing at something he said while slightly touching his arm. Yuck, what an ugly laugh.

“Just leave it, when has he ever shared anything of his?” Yoongi soft voice scolded the younger who was ogling the basket with his lips caught between his bunny teeth, “Besides you ate two large Hawaiian burgers, how could you still be hungry?”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at the rapper, telling him to be quiet as he once again snuck his hand over the table. However, he doesn’t get very far before Taehyung smacks his hand away with more force than needed.

“Didn’t I tell you to cut it out?” He raises his voice, turning his head to face the oversized hooded menace. Everyone’s head turns their way, as Jungkook shifts – slightly taken aback at the fury in Taehyung’s eyes. Soon his own anger flares up and he glares at the older, “Fine, keep your stupid fries and choke, Hyung.”

Standing up, he marches away from the table and heads into the parking lot to blow off some steam. Yoongi groans, reluctantly getting up to follow and comfort the youngest while rolling his eyes. When Taehyung’s face lands back on you, he catches you – the whole place rather – gaping at him with a mix of confusion and concern. Namjoon was raising a brow at him, a sort ‘the hell did you do’ indication on his face. He mutters under his breath, no longer comfortable in the suddenly threatening atmosphere. Which leads him to straighten up and wander off behind the other two.

Leaving the basket of fries rotting on the table.

See, this is why Taehyung hated you. Because he didn’t understand why you had to make a beeline straight for Namjoon’s room when they reached the sanctity of their dorms. You were shy, Hoseok had told him, you didn’t know the others well. Unlike Namjoon, who you had grown up with. Taehyung would just growl at the redhead in return, firmly telling him that he wasn’t interested in knowing anything about you.

What gave Hoseok the right to think he knows you so well, anyway?

If he reflects about it, Taehyung’s not sure when it first was that he began detesting you. You appeared collectively in their life a few years ago, a nervous young girl who had just moved into the city after her enrollment in Seoul University. Namjoon introduced you to the group with a dimpled smile, as you hid shyly behind his length and peered off his shoulder. As far as he recalls, you are a fan of the band – even had Jimin’s photocard placed inside your phone case. Usually, all the members are protective of who they invite into their home, refusing to let anyone they found problematic into their small circle. It stemmed from company policy as well as a couple of dirty leaks in their entourage of managers and stylists – exchanging information with sasaengs for a few quick bucks.

Needless to say, they were wary of the public in general. Too much time and effort had gone into their dreams of becoming singers for them to let something as small as visiting a bar ruin it. They promised one another to stay far away from anything scandalous. Which ranged from clubs to casual hook-ups. He knows most of the guys have broken the latter rule though, including himself. But they never let any fling become too close, never let any promiscuous desire tarnish their image.

However, Namjoon swore up and down on your character. “She won’t bother you guys! She’ll just hang out with me sometimes.”

And back then, he could stand you. Thought of your innocent doe eyes and somber behavior as adorable even! Yet as time passed on, your caution to avoid everyone who wasn’t Namjoon and commitment on keeping the rest of the members at a surface-level basis infuriated him. Did you think of yourself that high and mighty, that no one but Namjoon was worthy of your time? Fuck off.

“Shit!”

He shouts in his deep baritone as he’s once again defeated by Jin in the lousy racing game they chose to pass the time by. The window-wiping laughter of the elder makes him slump further into the couch wanting to be swallowed whole.

“That’s the third win!” Jin cheers, chugging on his beer in victory. Taehyung just laughs at the childish antics of the elder, his face turning red the more shit-faced he became. Through his own puffy eyes, he watches the TV screen replay Jin’s victory and groans when his stomach growls, having been more than a few hours since he last ate. With all his previous adrenaline absent, he decides to get up, stretching his sleeping tendons and scratching the itch on his ass.

“I’m gonna get something to eat. You want something?” He asks Jin, who is swinging both his leg and controller of the end of the couch while acting dead.

“There’s still the extra Jajangmyeon Jungkook ordered in the fridge.” Jin replies nonchalantly, resting his sore body on the cushions. Practice was especially hard today.

Taehyung nods, more to himself and saunters his way over to the kitchen across the hall. This dorm of theirs was rather spacious compared to the one they started out with.

He remembers it quite well, the shared mess of a bedroom and cramped bathroom. The mildly yellow walls and unembellished closets. It was in those times where the members were the closest, a silent joint empathy amongst all of them. Him and Namjoon shared an unbreakable bond. Taehyung was a country boy, fresh off the farm when he first joined the dorm. He cringes as he thinks about how awkward he was, the village-like simplicity of his fashion and the heavy accent he endowed for the first few months. Everyone had trouble understanding him, thinking he was the strangest thing after ET. Everyone except Namjoon.

Maybe it was because the boy boasted such a high I.Q. or maybe kindness was just second nature to the much taller man, all Taehyung knew was that he was eternally grateful to him.

Where areas some of the other members would write off his behavior as a passive eccentric trait, Namjoon carefully listened to him. He would try to see his point of view and never made Taehyung feel like he was weird for his thoughts and efforts. Taehyung in return respected Namjoon and his vision – which is why he was fine with distributing a room with him and only him.

Even if he was a bit clumsy sometimes.

Nonetheless, the days where they were inseparable roommates have long gone, now each member held their own room and their own hefty possessions. Sometimes he misses the simpler days, but he mostly liked this scenario as well. He was never a man who enjoyed sharing.

When Taehyung steps into the kitchen, he heads straight for the fridge. Immediately he spots the Jajangmyeon Jin mentioned and takes out the large bowl covered with a thin film of plastic wrap. Taking off the plastic, he slides his way to the microwave and stuffs the dish in there to warm up. He begins whistling the tune of the newest song they were recording, taking out a pair of black chopsticks from their cutlery drawer. Soon the microwave beeps, and he takes the Jajangmyeon out, smelling the heated pieces of pork ready to be devoured. His mouth waters as he began to sift the noodles and sauce together.

As he’s stretching the noodles apart, the sound of soft steps on the foyer make their way to his ear. He turns his head, to find your slightly startled figure staring at him in surprise.

“Hi.” He says with his eyebrows raised

“Hey.” You reply awkwardly, shifting on your feet and playing with your sweater paws

“Are you hungry?”

“Um, no I just wanted some water-” You stop that sentence when a ‘way too loud for the otherwise silent kitchen’ rumble rips its way from your stomach.

Taehyung lets out a snort, chuckling afterward as your cheeks dust themselves red and you wrap your arms around your abdominal in scrutiny. He looks at the steaming bowl in front of him, his right hand in midair of stretching the noodles, then looks back at you.

“This bowl is too large for just me. Wanna share?”

“O-Oh no!” You put up your arms in front of you, “I don’t want to both-“

“Get over here.”

“Yes, okay.” Dropping your hands, you meekly make your way over to Taehyung who gets a second pair of chopsticks from the drawer and hands it to you with a wink.

You watch as he immediately digs into the noodles with a big bite as you hesitate to touch the dish at all. He glances at you in confusion when he notices you’re not eating, and you accidentally let out a laugh. His cheeks were stuffed squishy with Jajangmyeon and there were stains of black bean sauce all over his mouth.

He looked like a tiny baby bear.

“Y-you ha-have,” You stutter between giggles and point at his face. But when he continues to cluelessly munch on his food you gently move your thumb to the corner of his lips, wiping off some of the sauce.

He doesn’t move an inch, just feeling the sensation of your finger and immediacy giving him goosebumps. Once you’re done wiping, you retract your hand to stare at your thumb. It hits you then of what you just did, and you look back up at him in shock.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to um…didn’t…”

You lose you train of thought as Taehyung grabs your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips. He gently puckers them over your thumb and sucks off the sauce as you let out a small gasp. His eyes never leave yours and the heat from his soft mouth shoots right up your spine. For a while you just stare at each other, Taehyung’s sharp pupils examining your features. Your pink mouth is slightly parted, and your glazed eyes resemble a doll. He thought he heard you let out an almost inaudible whine as he kisses your thumb. It stirs something inside him that he himself doesn’t understand.

“___?”

You both jump far back when a deep voice calls out your name. With wide eyes and fast heartbeats, you stare at one another in a tremor. What were you doing just now? Namjoon soon appears into the kitchen with his hands in his short’s pocket and stops a few feet from you. He raises a brow as he looks between you and Taehyung and the obvious uncomfortable atmosphere dressing the place.

“You were taking a long time so…I came to check if you were okay?” He tells you, pausing a bit to catch Taehyung’s eyes, “We have to finish your assignment, so we should head back…”

“Y-yeah,” You suddenly remember how you were originally working on your trig quiz with your best friend and wandered off to quickly grab something to eat from the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

Turning back around, you smile at Taehyung before you notice something in his presence is off. You move your hand to set down the chopsticks on the countertop, accidentally brushing your fingers next to the bowl. Taehyung snatches the bowl out of your reach, and you become alarmed at the abrupt movement and his harsh glare.

“Don’t touch it.” He snarls in a low but clear voice. You observe him in shock as he steps his way around you and Namjoon and leaves the kitchen with heavy stomps.

Namjoon sighs as he watches him leave, “Don’t mind him. That jerk hates sharing anything.”

He looks back at you, who’s just gazing at where Taehyung once stood with an unreadable expression.

“___?” He calls again in a concerned tone, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Huh, what?”

“You good?” Namjoon seems worried, studying your face with furrowed brows.

Namjoon’s been your friend for the longest time. You both met at the time when you stood 2 feet from the ground and still secretly wet the bed. Namjoon was a year older than you and had the gentlest soul. Other boys couldn’t compare, they had cooties. When you live in the same neighborhood and your parents are great friends, it’s not hard to see one another every day. So you did – and you both became very close, very quickly. If there was a test coming up, you’d rush to his house even in the middle of the night. When your mother was nagging at you for something stupid, you’d ask him to come over and bring his bike to ride around town. And when those cootie-filled boys broke your heart in middle school, his arms were the first ones you’d run into.

It was because of those days that you felt like you had taken a lot from him, and you desperately needed to return the favor. After he moved to Seoul, he called you often. Talking about things far from your general knowledge such as dance practices and the flow of rhythm and poetry. You would just sit back and let him rant, a content smile on your face at how much he was growing. But soon his words became alarming, especially after they debuted. At first, he would talk about how excited he was and ask what everyone thought about him or his group. That quickly changed into him complaining about the hate comments, about the relentless hours they worked, about rude staff or seniors they encountered. He told you how much he missed his parents, the quarry on the east end of town him and his friends hung out at, and how lonely he became at night when everyone but him was asleep. Your heart ached at his words and you knew it was time to repay your debt.

You were as shocked as everyone else when you actually got into Seoul University. Not Namjoon though, he was over the moon at your arrival. Your visits to the dorm began shortly and you transformed into a major stress-reliever for Namjoon. It was a recuperated feeling, he was also your ball of vitality after a long day. So were the other members of BTS you had become fond of through stories Namjoon told you or Bangtan Bombs you spent hours watching. They were awkward around you, and you were awkward with them. Some members were closer to you than others.

Taehyung was one of them…in the beginning at least. He was fun and charming, and he always knew how to make you laugh. It’s not like you used up eras talking to him. They were all fully grown adult men with a demanding job and barely any moments for themselves. Not wanting to bother their already busy schedule, you mostly hung around Namjoon. But from the few times you did run into him in the dorm, he was kind and easy-going. You were embarrassed to admit it, but you had the fattest crush on him even though Jimin was your bias. Everything about him was attractive – from his piercing facial features to his boxy smile and fluffy hair. That all changed one day though, as he rarely directed a smile at you. Instead he started to scowl whenever you stepped foot into the dorm.

You thought maybe you were interrupting the time between the seven members too much and he needed you to back off a bit. So you spoke to Namjoon about it who vigorously denied your allegations. Even though you felt bad about the whole situation, you knew how much your friend needed you to be his rock. The more popular they became, the more he felt like he was losing himself. Being a celebrity is harder than it seems – you try to dissociate your reality from the perception of others and it still becomes a tangled mess in the form of a persona. And so, you stayed with Namjoon, even through Taehyung’s frowns and glares. It hurt for a while because of your feelings towards the blonde, but soon you just concentrated on being a good friend.

When he spoke to you today, you were surprised. You didn’t find any disdain in his orbs or hidden layers underneath his words. A part of you thought he was finally fine with you again, just for him to do what he usually does when Namjoon appeared.

You notice the worried features set upon your older friend and smile up at him though your eyes don’t,

“I’m good. Let’s go.”

“Baby, can we pleaaassse order another shot?”

The girl demands into his ear, snuggling herself up further on his velvet clad shoulder. He internally rolled his eyeballs feeling suffocated by her skin ship, playing with the lime wedge on the edge of his untouched gin and tonic. The club’s music was pounding in his brain and he had spent the majority of yesterday vomiting out his nerves for their recent comeback. Their senior manager told him to take the day off and clear his head. Specifically warning him to not go to the club in Hongdae again, so obviously that’s where he went.

It’s not that he’s stupid, he knows why his company forbade such behavior. But it didn’t matter who it was, he didn’t like to be told what to do. Many celebrities visited and hooked-up with random rich kids here anyway, so security was pretty tight. No one who even resembled a reporter would be allowed to wander an inch of this place. Everyone dressed in Gucci shirts, and LV shoes so it wasn’t hard to weed out the peasants. A few undercover Dispatch employees have probably slipped in here though, but his company had already made a very generous donation to them so he knew even they wouldn’t bother him.

Taehyung frowns, he was always so damn stubborn and held probably the biggest ego in BTS. What did he even want to do at a club? There was nothing interesting for him here, especially not the half-drunk girl he’s been texting with for a few weeks. She seemed mysterious and chic on Instagram, but Taehyung should’ve known better than to trust that lying devil of a site. Now he was practically stuck with her thin arms wrapped around his waist.

As soon as he met her, she suggested a threesome between her, him and Jimin. It made him angry, but he played it cool for the sake of getting laid. Taehyung was never a man who shared. Especially if that something was his. His father instilled this part of his identity into him; a real man never takes for granted what’s rightfully his property. And with that value set as an important part of his core is how he lived his everyday life. From food, to clothes and even lovers…what was his, was his.

As she leaned into him, he takes a peek at her cleavage. Her red spaghetti-strapped dress was extremely low cut and the silicon in her breasts felt like the real deal.

Well maybe this wasn’t so bad.

He leans back into the cushions of his booth, eyeing the hordes of people dancing. There were a couple of faces he recognized, some good memories some bad. The girl begins to suck on his ear, and he sighs. In a second, he was just about to get up – bring this girl back to the dorm and fuck her brains out when he spots something that immediately catches his attention.

You.

This was the last place he expected you to be.

He hadn’t seen you for a while after the incident in the kitchen. You made it your mission to avoid bumping into him and for some reason that upset him. Taehyung keeps thinking about your small interaction over and over again.Just laying in his bed and wishing to hold onto your delicate hand once again. There was something pulling him to you and it really confused him. Wasn’t he supposed to hate you?

It was as if all the world’s noises and distractions had faded into nothing as he zeroed in on you.

You were sitting at the bar slowly sipping a light pink concoction in a short and wide glass. His gaze lingers on your figure, perfectly embraced by the dark green body con dress you were wearing. A velour cotton he analyzed; he was the expert in fashion in BTS after all. It seemed to reach down just below your ass, but he could’ve been wrong since it was riding up the more you shifted in your stool. The sleeves covered your arms and the neckline was wide, exposing your collarbones and ending just a centimeter above your chest area. Just then a thought of undressing you crossed his mind, leaving him shivering in his seat. He licks his lips as his heart starts beating faster from your lazy movements.

“Tae?” A sudden voice interrupts his thoughts “When are going to go somewhere a little more…”

Moving up on him she breaths into his face, observing him with cat eyes, “Quiet?”

There’s no expression on him as he answers her, “Never.”

She looks taken aback, moving off of his body and furrowing her eyebrows in question.

“What?”

She seemed offended

“Jimin just texted me. He says you look boring. Bye.” Is the last thing he says before picking up his drink and standing. He doesn’t look back to see her reaction as he focuses on walking towards you.

You were finishing the last of your light alcoholic drink before you suddenly smell Tom Ford from a warm presence next to you. Turning your face, you see Taehyung leaning into the bar table with his left arm and smiling at you. He was wearing a navy-blue velvet jacket with gold embellishments lining the edges of his arm. His black button up shirt was tucked into his tight leather pants and his neck exhibited a thin choker with a golden fox charm in the center. It matched with the blonde hair that fell over his sharp eyes.

Why was he here? Well…it makes more sense for him to be at this club than you. But Namjoon had told you of Taehyung’s strange behavior recently. It worried you, was he in the correct state of mind in this moment? He didn’t seem drunk to you as you survey his posture closely. The second he showed you his boxy smile, was when suddenly everything became brighter in the dark club.

“Hi.” He says in that familiar profound tenor

“Hey.” You reply back a little too quietly

“What brings you here?” He asks with a smirk, freezing your movements when he tucks a stray hair behind you ear.

“I c-came with a celebrity friend of mine…She kinda disappeared into the crowd.”

“Oh?” He says, bringing up his drink to his lips and taking a sip, “Do I know them?”

“The actress…Yujin. Namjoon introduced me to her a while back.”

At the mention of Namjoon he glances up from his glass. The eyes that were once focused on studying your features now held a heavy threatening aura, his lips pulled into a straight line.

When you notice the change in the atmosphere, you try your best to change the subject.

“W-what are you drinking by the way?”

When he registers your words, his pupils lighten again like he was some fairytale creature. His mouth forms back into a lighthearted smirk and he raises his drink up to your lips this time.

“Wanna find out?”

You back away from the cool touch of his tall glass just for him to bring it closer to your mouth again. His posture is playful and his smile boxy. Where was this Taehyung when you were at the dorms? With a purse of your lips, you open them somewhat to allow the glass into your mouth.

Carefully you angle your head up, allowing Taehyung to slightly pour the alcohol into your mouth. Your tongue retracts at first by the intrusion of the bitter liquid, but it soon flattens smoothly and let’s the drink slide down your throat. When you are finished with the first gulp, Taehyung’s hand settles onto the back of your head, his elongated fingers tangled in your strands. He uses that to push your head back further and let you drink more of his gin and tonic, controlling your movements with his warm limbs. Your lids flutter at his dominance, you felt yourself getting wet.

“Good girl,” He says in a deep velvety voice, making you clench your thighs, “Just like that.”

The action no longer seems innocent as he observes you like a hawk, his proximity heating your torso. You gawk hard into his bottomless eyes and found an unrecognizable desire dancing around his irises. Your core was on fire causing your cheeks to inflame. The liquid continued to slide down your throat, making you feel dizzy at the cool flavor. It felt like everything in the club had come to a halt in favor of watching Taehyung shove his drink down your throat.

As you down the whole drink, he removes the glass from your lips and sets it down while his other hand stays in his hair. It feels like you’ve run a marathon, your chest moving up and down and your eyes teary with lust. You struggle to speak – your brain was fuzzy as the alcohol settled in your system.

“Shh.” He hushed you, your mouth automatically shutting at his command. It made him smile and he cupped your jaw, moving his thumb along your lips. You tremble in his hands, your panties soaked with your juices.

“Wanna come home with me?”

Taehyung’s keys jingle as he slides it into the lock.

With a click he pushes the door open and enters into the pitch-black room with you following close behind. He flicks on the light switch and indifferently starts removing his derby’s. You on the other hand stare in shock and awe at the larger than life luxury apartment he brought you to. Your eyes wander all over the place – at the expensive adornments and odd-looking décor to the huge windows that gave you a clear view of the Han river.

“Wow.” You whisper

You hear Taehyung snort behind you, “You like it?”

“It’s quite something.” You utter as he comes into your view and places his shoes by his house slippers and proceeds to walk barefoot into the foyer casually. Snapping out of your reverie, you bring up your leg to pull off your heels one at a time, awkwardly setting them down next to the other two pairs.

When you’re done with that you enter the floorboard and look around to see where the blonde-haired man went.

“Taehyung?” You call out

“In here.” He shouts back from a room with the door slightly ajar and a small sunset light shining into the bright living room.

You walk across most of his apartment to reach the door, standing stagnant in front of it hesitantly. With a gulp you slide the door open and stepped inside.

Taehyung turns his face when he sees you. He’s taken off his coat and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his silk shirt. Smiling, he ruffles his hair while walking towards you who stood in the doorway.

“Hi.” He says cheekily, backing you into a corner

Causing you break out into a giggle, “Hello.”

His hand comes into contact with yours, his fingertips touching yours lightly before traveling up your arm. The warmth causes goosebumps in his trail and he places his fingers underneath your jaw, tilting your head up. His eyes roam around your face before settling into yours intensely, and you swear he looks unreal – like he just stepped out of a Ghibli animation.

“I always thought you so beautiful.” He mutters, his breath fanning your face

“Tae…” Is what you barely manage to say before his lips are on yours

The kiss is so slow, so sweet – you feel like you’re imagining it. When his tongue comes in contact with your lower lip you open your mouth to allow him entry. His large hand caresses your cheek, as his tongue dances with yours softly. Tilting his head to the side, he deepens the kiss pushing you up against the wall. In a second the kiss becomes faster, harder with him licking the insides of your mouth in a frenzy.

He himself didn’t know how long he’s wanted to kiss you. All he does know is that you taste delicious. A mix of bitter and sweet, like Rose spritzer and Gin. It was addictive and now that he’s had a taste, he can’t get enough.

“Mm- Tae-,” You try to muffle through a kiss, putting a hand up to his chest

He doesn’t seem to hear you as he pushes his tall, sturdy body onto you – his hot chest colliding with yours and his arms on either side of your head with his hands planted on the wall.

“T-Tae,” You say a bit louder this time, using a little more force to get him off you

He comes off in a breath, hands still on that wall and his eyes wide and pupils blown. His chest was moving up and down and his lips were wet with spit.

“You alright?”

“I…I just can’t do this.” You say with sadness in your voice. “I like you too much to be just another hook-up…so I can’t.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes and you flush, looking away. What was going to happen now? He didn’t seem to like you…was he going to tell you to leave?

“What gave you that idea?”

You look back up in surprise and meet his hardened stare

“I..I just thought-“

“I’ve never brought anyone here.” Taehyung interjects, “Did you know that?”

“What?” You say in disbelief “Really?”

Sighing, he drops his head giving you a clear view of his blonde locks, “Yes, really.”

“I know that you’ve probably heard from the members that I don’t share anything of mine…but…”

He looks back up at you, “That’s never been a problem with you.”

As you register what he was stating, you become apprehensive. If he was saying he likes you too…then why did he treat you like that before? All the scowls and harsh stares, what were those for?

“I thought you hated me.”

“I’m sorry. I-I thought I did too.” He grimaces, “But instead, I think I was just…that…”

It seems like he doesn’t want to finish his sentence, but you weren’t going to settle on a vague answer.

“You were what?” You drill him with a new-found confidence

“I was jealous!” He shouts, startling you a bit.

“You and…Namjoon,” He grits out your best friends name with his teeth clenched, “are together all the damn time! You don’t acknowledge me when he’s close by and you go straight into his room without even looking at me! I don’t know…how can I not be jealous when I want you to be mine?”

“…would you be mine?”

Your jaw drops open at his confession, all the new information starting to irritate your brain. The only reason you avoid him is because of how he acts…and he’s saying he acts this way because you avoid him? What a strange cycle. As your gaze lingers at the fury in his orbs, you can’t help but break into a laugh, which shocks him.

“Oh my god, you are so cute,” You say in between hearty giggles and watch him twist his face in embarrassment.

“It’s really not that funny,” He pouts “Hey, stop laughing!”

You hear him grumble underneath his breath as his facial expressions continue to amuse. Honestly, you didn’t know how to reply to his accusation. I mean, you and Namjoon? That would never happen in a million years. It was cliché, but he was literally like an older brother to you. So, this declaration sort of disgusted you. There was just no way you could ever discern Namjoon in that way, and you were sure it was the same for him.

Although, there was one time a few years ago where you both were extra lonely and helped the other masturbate. Obviously, nothing came out of it, and you don’t think Taehyung needs to know that. Not with the way his face lights on fire at the mention of you with Namjoon.

So, with nothing to say to him – you hook a finger up his choker and pull his face close to yours.

“I’m ready to be yours.” You whisper before kissing the frown away.

He reciprocates immediately, his hand being placed on your hips and drawing you into him. The kiss is electric, lasting for a few seconds before he moves his mouth into your neck. His hands trace over your dress, from your curves down to your ass before he grabs it gently.

“I really like this dress,” He mutters into the skin of your neck “Green is my favorite color.”

“I can’t afford s-something like this- ah. It’s- mm- Yujin’s.” You sigh

“Hmm,” He looks back up at your face making you blush, “Looks like I’ll have to buy you a whole new wardrobe then.”

Trailing his hand up your back, he finds the peak of the dress’ zipper. He pinches the zip, dragging it down your torso until it ended just above your bottom. Then he takes a step back, placing both of his palms on the edge of your shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, he slips the dress down your arms until it falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles.

Your breath is steady as you stare at him, watching in slight nervousness as he takes you all in.

That was the thing about Taehyung. You were always so worried about he thought, especially about you. Even though you visited the dorms often, he was always the member the most out of reach. He was like an expensive bottle of cognac, like the brightest star on top of the tree. Compared to the members, he was the most celebrity-like. Whenever Namjoon mentioned him ‘talking’ to someone, you always imagined some sexy, gorgeous model-like person. Someone similar to him.

And so you felt quite insecure about yourself as he leers at your almost naked form with an unreadable appearance. It makes you tuck a hair behind your ear as you wrap an arm around your abdominal.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he closes in on you, placing your hands back on his clothed chest. He grips your waist, a bit harder this time as his fingers dig into the delicate skin. Taehyung picks you up abruptly and throws you into the large bed in the center of the room, knocking the wind out of you. You barely have time to think before he’s on top you, biting down your jaw and into your neck.

“All of this,” He growls in a deeply furious resonance, “is mine.”

Bending his index finger underneath your bra strap, he gives it a pull, just to let it go in the next second. It lands on your skin with a snap. You flinch, your face twisting in pain as he grins, and arch your back off the bed. Was he always this playful with his lovers? There’s not much time for you to dwell on that as his fingers trace up your exposed back. Working quickly, he unhooks your bra, practically ripping it from your chest as your lids shoot open. He discards the fabric to the side, not caring where it landed with his attention focused solely on you. Your nipples bounce faintly in the cools air while he licks his lips, bending down and taking a bud in his mouth.

As your jaw drops open, you entangle your fingers into blonde locks, pulling slightly as he swirls his tongue around the nipple before sucking your areola. The action has your spine tingling. Your other hand grabs onto his shirt, the silky fabric of the cloth letting you easily slide the edge of your nails throughout the expanse of his back, making him shiver on top of you. He moves his mouth onto the other nipple, using his thumb and index finger to pinch the wet, swollen bud.

“Mmm- Ahhhh…Tae.”

The room was getting blurry, the smoke of yearning in your lungs kept your sentient heavy. Taehyung removes himself with a pop and uses his large, supple hands to mold your breasts. His emission was low and stable as he was in buried in concentration at every curve of your figure – every inch being his to sculpt. You were entranced by his dedication, so delicate and agile. He didn’t look like he was in any rush and you were caught off guard. Expecting him to be uncaring and have you in the way he wanted.

But what you didn’t understand is that Taehyung could play both sides equally well. The man is a master at manipulation – always knows how to get what he wants.

“So perfect.” He mumbles.

There was not an ounce of alcohol in his veins, yet as he continued to stare at you, he felt himself getting lost. Taking the tips of his fingers, he glides them down the middle of your chest, loving the way you sighed at his contact. Your body was a work of art, a Gustav Klimt in the midst of so many Wassily Kandinskys. He stops his digits on top of your clothed core, his breath hitching in his throat when he feels how wet you are.

In embarrassment you recoil, closing your legs together. In return he easily props them open with tender vigor shooting his eyes up to meet yours.

“Don’t ever act that way with me.” He warns, placing two fingers above your cunt over your panties, leisurely dragging them up and down, “Not with me, do you understand?”

All that leaves your mouth are whines of his names, the motion of his long digits making you want to close your thighs again for some friction. But you knew better than that now.

“Do you understand?” He says again in the same lazy tone and you almost cry out of frustration. It was torture how slow he was moving yet just as he wants you to, you don’t move an inch.

Forcing yourself to clear your tangled thoughts, you spill out a pathetic plead, “Ye-Ye- ahhh. Yes! Yes! I understand. Pleasssse.”

The way your voice sounded was frightening to you. You’ve been sexually intimate a handful of times, but this was a whole new world. Never in your life did you ever think you were capable of sounding like such a whore. Nonetheless, when Taehyung smiles at you. Oh, when he smiles like you’ve done such a good job.

You would happily become a whore.

He retracts his hand from your center, gazing down at the large wet patch on your underwear. Slowly, he crouches down, sticking out the tip of his tongue in the direction of your crotch. You anticipate, holding your breath as your pussy clenches around nothing. Thinking about Tae tasting you down there had you leaking like a waterfall.

He finally makes contact with your core and you cry out as you feel his muscle move around your folds, the fabric stimulating the bundle of nerves. It was heaven and hell, half of you wanting him to remove the cloth the other half not giving a fuck. Just wanting to cum.

“Tae, Tae, Tae, Tae.” He had you slurring at the bare minimum. If a sober – less excited you was watching you, she’d close her eyes in humiliation. Which is exactly what you do, but instead for a completely different reason as Tae flattens his tongue on you.

He groans at your taste. “So- mmf- sweet. So good.”

Your fingers pull on his hair, as he moves his nose and mouth around your folds, sucking your slit through the fabric.

“Oooh,” You sob “N-no more teasss- inng.”

Exhaling into your crotch, he sits up with a gratified look on his face, orbs glossy and chest heaving like he was high. In the next second, he was hooking his finger in the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your legs in a slow yet steady motion. Fuck, you wanted to scream at how long he took at doing everything, but you opt to just squirm around in its place. Annoyance covers your lids as he just laughs, throwing his head back with your underwear reaching just below your knees.

After this was over you were going to kill him.

Finally, to your great pleasure, he removes the garment off your body, staring deep into your soul. Making sure you were paying attention, he bites his lip – winking at you with his ethereal features. God made sure to pay special courtesy to Taehyung when shaping him, you were sure of it. How refined the lines of his eyes were, the high structure of his gorgeous cheekbones and arch of his luscious lips. You just knew he took extra care in making this human beyond divine.

When he has you hypnotized under him like he wanted, he brings your panties up to his face, deeply inhaling your scent.

You gasp at the action. Noting taking your eyes off of him as he groans into your underwear and grabs his bulge.

At this point your pussy was spasming around nothing. And the worst part was that he hadn’t even touched you properly.

“Shhh,” He pats your inner thigh as you shake in the bed, rubbing it up and down. “It’s okay.”

“Taehyung, FUCK…please just fuck me Taehyung ple- AHH”

Your voice wandered off as he abruptly shoved his tongue into you once again, this time going inside of you. Taehyung holds down your quivering thighs as he sucks your juices in. His nails dig into the sensitive skin, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Growling at your essence, he moves his tongue to lick along your clit using two fingers to push into your pussy, making you cry out. He expertly scissors your insides, moving his digits apart before curling them and licking harder each time you clamped around them. On the other hand, you were a mess. Your eyeballs rolled into the back of your head and you were sputtering nonsense as Taehyung continued to taste you.

“Yes, Oh my God, yes Tae!”

When you were about to cum, he removes himself, emitting the loudest whine from your throat. Hot tears spill down your cheeks and he wipes them away with his hand.

Putting your leg over his shoulder, he coos, kissing your ankles down to your calves. That’s when he finally unbuckled his pants, dragging them down to his mid-thighs. He takes out his dick, the head red and angry with a bead of precum leaking from the slit. With a grunt, he spits into his hand, stroking himself while eyeing your pretty cunt. With a weak conscious, you observe how his fingers glide through his shaft. Sliding over every vein and artery that has you drooling in delight.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He says in a chillingly sunken voice, pupils no longer well-lit.

“Ummh Taeeee.” You weren’t able to comprehend anything except the fact you wanted to be the one touching his dick.

“Say it.” He says again in the same tone, “Say it or you’re never getting this cock.”

Your eyes widen as you hear him. Before today, you ‘ve never been the one to be into such dirty talk. Possessive talk in it’s owned creeped you out. But the last thing you gave a shit about at the moment were your morals, practically throbbing for him to be inside you. So, with your womanhood screaming at you to answer him, you do.

“YES! Taehyung, I belong to you, only you. Please, please, please just fuck me.”

With a dark smirk and a peck on your lips, he lines the head of his dick with your entrance. Entering you calmly. His mouth hangs open as he inches inside you, observing every ounce of your face. The pleasure, the grimace, the lust. All of this belonged to him.

What you felt first was the contrast of your naked – vulnerable torso, to his fully clothed exterior. Unbeknownst to you, he was making a clear statement by keeping his clothes on. Even though the tight pants attached onto his thigh were uncomfortable, it’s still worth it if you know who’s in charge around here. It didn’t seem like you cared about the power dynamic though as Taehyung filled you to the brim. Definitely not as much as he did.

Moaning, you grab onto his arms, your sweaty palms helping his shirt stick onto you and holding your breath as he settles inside. He gives you a minute to adjust, peppering light kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Some part of him believed that he was just dreaming – maybe this one another one of those hallucinations he had about you since you first entered his life. That was another reason he hated you.

Because at night, when he was completely alone after another day of you being over, he would jerk himself off to thoughts about fucking your tight cunt in front of everyone. Letting all the members know, especially the tallest, that you were his as he thrusted into you from behind on the dorm’s dinner table. What he wouldn’t do to see the look on their faces. You were way tighter than he could ever imagine.

And well, at least one part of his wish came true. As you mumble his name and your muscles relax around him, he gradually takes his dick out, his brows furrowing in ecstasy. Then he slams into you again balls deep, making you scream. He repeats that action, over and over until the bed his practically flying in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ahh Fuuu- Tae, I’m gonna-” You moan out loud, feeling lightheaded from him moving above you and the mattress moving beneath you.

“Not yet,” He commands, “Hold it for me.”

You sob as he continues to push into you at a rapid pace, his thick girth hollowing out your insides. Every time he would hit your cervix, you let out a small scream wrapping your legs firmer around him. There was no way you were going to last, but you had to. So, you clench your abdominal muscles uncomfortably and just cry your heart out. But it wasn’t working, you could still feel that knot inside your gut. With nothing to focus on you look up at his face, feeling surprised to have his hardened stare on you.

“Tae…” You whine, trailing your eyes down his jaw up to his neck. His choker was trembling around at the force of the movements, the fox charm dangling up and down.

Suddenly it leaves your sight, his tan skin, the choker, his misty orbs and his dick. You barely have time to think as you were turned around in one swift motion, eyes now facing the headboard. Taehyung’s muscular arms hold you up by the waist as he shoves into you once again.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” He repeats with every thrust while you have our jaw hanging open and spit dripping down your chin.

“Tell me who you belong to,” He snarls almost inhumanely, “Say- fuck- who’s bitch you are! Whose whore are you? Who mmh- owns your pretty pussy, huh? Say IT!”

“Oh my God, oh my God, I belong to you, Ahh- I’m yours, your whore…ughhh it’s yours.”

“You’re mine.” He growls before hitting your ass so hard it has you lurching forward and cumming.

Your face lands into the mattress, your cries muffled by the sheets as your body convulses. White spots paint your vision as you feel yourself blackout for a second, air being knocked out of you.

“FUCK!” He roars, still thrusting into you a few more times before he settles all the way inside your tight walls and shoots his cum deep within you.

Taehyung falls down next you, staring at the white ceiling of his apartment. It takes him a while to get himself together, his chest heaving and mind hazy. With a curse, he removes his leather pants off his legs completely and throws them to the side, sighing in relief.

Then he glances at you, who’s heavily breathing in the same position. Face planted on the bed with your ass in the air. He moves his arms around you, gently shifting you over until your back collided with his chest. Running a hand through your hair, he pats your stomach that’s aching from how hard he was gripping it. Kissing over the bite marks at the conjecture between your neck and your shoulder. You whine lowly in thanks at the comfort he was providing your sore muscles.

“You alright?” He asks softly, sounding like a human once again

“I’m great.” You say with a smile as a bit of your energy comes back. Turning on the bed until your face to face with him, you give him a peck on his lips. “That was…”

“Something.” He finishes for you

You laugh, “Yes, something.”

He just stares at you with a grin. An unreadable emotion in his eyes.

“What is it?” You whisper

“Nothing…just your laugh is the most beautiful thing on earth.”

“Oh my God.” You blush as he gives you a boxy smile. So, this is Kim Taehyung of BTS, huh?

“Only laugh for me,” He suddenly says, “You’re mine, after all.”

A strange, uncomfortable feeling washes over you. The words you thought were just bedroom talk making an appearance in the moment after made you mildly lose your smile. It was really weird how he kept making an emphasis on that while fucking you anyway, until you lost yourself and agreed. But those kind of things happen with sex right? It’s normal. However, how are you supposed to deal with them after sex?

Maybe you were making a big deal out of nothing. His face was spirited, so he was just joking around. He’s not serious, you tell yourself…hoping you were correct.

“Sure.” You reply casually, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him to stop him from saying another odd thing. It was going to ruin the mood plus the start of whatever this new thing was between you both.

It works, as he quickly holds onto you securely and licks into your mouth. You focus on how good it feels to caress his tongue with yours, ignoring the part of him repeatedly uttering ‘mine’ into your mouth.

You gasp as you feel his erection on your thigh, moving back to see the smirk on his face as he grabs your sore ass with his palm.

It was going to be a long night.

You woke in a sunny room to hear the shower running.

It took you a minute to figure out where you were since you did have a bit to drink last night. That’s why there was a small headache forming behind your eyes. A strumming passing through you the more conscious you become.

You smile.

That’s right, this was Kim Taehyung’s bedroom. The man you just fucked last night. The guy you’ve had a crush on for 4 years now. What a champ you are! With an inhale you sit up, hissing instantly at your sore hips. Boy, did you two fuck last night.

What were you both now? Friends? Lovers? You could never be sure with that Gucci loving kid, but you weren’t too concerned seeing as how you had the rest of the morning to talk about it.

You whine as you rub your bottom, cringing as you think about how awkwardly you’d be strutting for the rest of the day. As you check the time on his digital clock, you thank god today was your day off or else your company would’ve had your head. No class today either, how perfect.

Leisurely exhaling, you decide to get up and maybe join Taehyung in his shower. A smirk rests on your lips. He’d like that, right?

Before you can think any further about getting frisky with the blonde man, you notice your green dress still on the floor.

You gasp.

Yujin!

Looking around the floor you spot your handbag by the corner of the doorway. How did it get there and when did you drop it? In a flash, you rush to pick it up, walking back towards the bed butt-naked as you dig through it. You fish out your phone as you get by the bed. Facing the large window by the nightstand.

Pursing your lips, you open the screen recoiling at how many missed calls there were. Yujin tried calling you two to three times and texted you once. Then you’re guessing she reached out to Namjoon who was blowing up your phone the entire night! With his last call being at 5:17 in the morning.

You wince. Great. Last night you had put your phone on silent because recently a spam call had been terrorizing you. Though, after you stepped out of your front door, you should have made sure to turn the sound back on – for safety reasons, but you completely forgot.

What if you got stuck inside a house with a creep? The thought alone makes you shudder.

Whatever, it’s not that bad. You’ll just let Namjoon know you’re ok. There weren’t any reasons for you to tell him where you were – or who you were with so you’ll just leave that part out. For now.

Unlocking your phone, you click your messages app to send Namjoon a quick ‘I’m good. Had a fun night😉’ You’re concentrated on typing, hearing the little ticks every time you click the screen, which is why you don’t notice the bathroom door opening and steam charging out of it, warming up the room. Taehyung, with a towel hanging around his waist, softly steps close to your figure facing away from him – before he tackles you into a back hug.

It was a sight he could get used to. Your beautiful naked form, lounging around his house covered with his marks. He groaned into your skin. Fuck breakfast, he was ready for the fifth round.

“Oh!” You let out in surprise.

“Good morning.” He says, peppering kissing into your neck and tracing over his lovebites with the tip of his tongue. You shift your head to the side to allow him a better angle.

“Good morning.” You reply back in giggles as you continue typing.

For a moment he just stands there, rocking you back and forth with his large arms wrapped around your waist. When he detects that you’re not paying him any attention, he pouts. Putting his chin on your shoulder to see what was keeping you from him.

“What’re you doing?” He whines in your ear in annoyance

“Oh, Namjoon texted me a few times last night but my phone was on silent,” You should’ve noticed how dark his eyes got, how quickly his smile left him for something else – something more sinister. But you were too distracted typing out a reply to your freaked-out friend.

“I’m just letting him know I’m-”

Suddenly he removes his arms off you and your phone gets snatched away from and you watch it be thrown across the room. Crashing into the wall and making an awful cracking sound. In shock you stare at the place it was thrown at, processing what just happened.

“I’m really sick and tired of Namjoon’s name coming out of your mouth.” Taehyung sneers, getting into your personal space.

There was still nothing registering in your mind as you heard the anger in Taehyung’s voice. You turn around with your brain in a muddled mess. It felt like the alcohol was finally hitting you.

Taehyung stood there in pure, unadulterated rage. He’s been this way with you many times…but this time it’s different. There was something off about the way he towered over you. It rattled your bones, your defense mechanisms kicking in, making you shift your feet towards the exit.

“Wha-”

“You wish it was him, don’t you? You wish he was the one fucking you in the bed for hours! You wanted him to mark you up – make you his pretty little cumslut! You wanted to scream his name as you came for the fourth time! DIDN’T YOU?!”

Spitting into your face, he grabs your cheeks with his oversized hand and let’s his nails dig into your soft skin in a fury. There’s nothing but madness swirling inside his pupils. You set your hands on his wrist, trying to pull him off. It was fruitless as he didn’t budge, just continued to fan your face with hot, weighty breaths. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as your heartbeat accelerated. In that moment all you could think about was getting away from the blonde.

With the last exert of your strength, you somehow you manage to push him away from you. As soon as you do, your palm makes contact with the taller man’s cheek. The sound echoes throughout the room, making you back away from him even further. Slowly his skin becomes rosy, an ugly handprint forming across his cheek as he raises his head back up to look at you. You emit a gasp, the tears from before pouring out your sockets.

There was absolutely nothing in his eyes – in his face. No pain, no anger…there was absolutely no emotion. You were frightened by his sudden cold exterior. It was as if he was a hollow shell. An empty soul. He seemed…insane.

“You’re crazy.” You mumble, but you knew he heard it.

For a second it feels like there was something that flashed across his eyes. Something akin to pain, but you didn’t care. You needed to get the hell out of here, so you looked away from him and searched the bedroom. Grabbing your purse, you pick up your dress from the floor and ran to where he threw your phone. Picking it up, you open it to see that’s still working with just a small fracture on the bottom edge of the screen. You’ve never been more thankful for having a phone case. With that you quickly run out of the room, not caring about your undergarments.

In the hallway, you haphazardly throw on your dress while sniffling. The apartment no longer entranced you, instead you felt suffocated and frightened. He…wouldn’t run after you would he. God, please no. Grabbing your phone, you hesitate whether to call Namjoon…but somehow decide against it. The one thought in your mind was to get away from this place – get away from him. You flinch as you think you hear Taehyung call out your name and rush towards and out the door, not waiting for what he had to say.

Not looking back.

Taehyung was a mess.

It had been a few weeks since your abrupt departure and he couldn’t get you out of his head.

Actually, he hasn’t gotten you out of his head since he first saw you, but this time it was worse. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see your teary face and the absolute disgust for him swimming in your irises. It hurt him so much. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was the day he finally held you in his arms just for you to run off.

Because of his terrible health habits, he had been looking extremely tired for the past few days. His face was molded into permanent indifference, a pathetically downcast expression on his lips. He knew the fans had noticed, a couple of them made fanclub posts about it. But he honestly couldn’t find it within him to give a fuck. His manager and the members had all been worried for him – asked him if something’s wrong multiple times but he continued to brush them off. For some reason he found it difficult to communicate with anyone that wasn’t you at the moment.

And you definitely weren’t around. So where does that leave him?

Taehyung wondered if you’ve been doing well, compared to him. Since you wouldn’t want to see him, he hasn’t tried to go visit you. Even though he was dying to see you – basically killing himself – he just couldn’t do that to you. Instead he texted you a bunch of times, tried to call you in numerous ways and even asked Namjoon of your whereabouts daily. All he wanted to tell you was that he was willing to change for you, only if that’d get you to come back to him. There was a lot he would do if it meant you would look at him again. Yet nothing came of it, not even Namjoon could get ahold of you.

He resorted to desperate measures to remove you from his mind. Tried to hook-up with other girls, tried to drink the loneliness away, tried hanging out with A-list celebrities – people way more important than a mere college student could ever be. None of that came close to filling the void left in his heart, no drink or famous person could touch his soul. The other girls didn’t compare to you, hell – he couldn’t even get it up with them! Soon there’d be an article in some C-grade gossip column about how Kim Taehyung of BTS was sexually impotent, he just knew it.

All of his methods didn’t do anything but get him into trouble from his company.

With nothing to take out his frustration on, Taehyung began to utilize what secular part of you you left behind. Your panties. Every night, drunk and alone in his bedroom – he would stuff your delicates into his mouth, stroke himself in harsh paces and imagine fucking the daylights out of you while crying out into his dark apartment. Other times he would wrap the fabric around his shaft, gently stroking his dick until he came by thinking about making sweet love to you. Your soft hair, the glow of your plump lips, your wet folds. He really missed you. It made him a mess.

This is all your fault! See, this is exactly why he hated you. Because you found a way to entrap him into your little game and now he was obsessed with you. You! Who didn’t even care! That one night meant everything to him and you had just disappeared like it was nothing. A simple bump in the road. Taehyung was mentally exhausted.

That’s why as he was performing their newest song – some EDM track that had a difficult dance attached to it, he was making so many mistakes that he wasn’t able to count them anymore. Because of him, the course of the movements had fallen apart and none of the members seemed to be doing as well as they practiced. He just didn’t have the ability to concentrate; the bright stage lights and the overwhelming atmosphere couldn’t bring him back to reality. Instead made him dizzy the more he moved around. The members were trying hard to make up for most of his errors, especially Jungkook who was performing some of his parts for him. Even in front of millions of fangirls all he could think about was you.

Namjoon was glaring at him through the whole performance. The older man only smiling once it was his solo part in front of the camera. He ignored most of it, but it still made him a tad furious. After all, Namjoon was the reason he was in this predicament.

As soon as the performance ends, Taehyung rushes off the stage while the others chat with their fans for a bit. Everyone behind him makes a fuss, angry and sad chants from both the crowd and his members annoy him. Backstage he continues pushing past the staff and the managers coming scold him. All he wanted to do was get a drink of water.

When he gets in the waiting room, he sighs in relief to find it empty. The senior stylists must’ve head up stage to retouch the member’s makeup in case of another retake. He walks to the table filled with refreshments, grabbing the nearest water bottle and twisting the cap open carelessly.

The cap falls to the ground but he just proceeds to drink the cool liquid and drown out his tension. As he’s halfway through, he hears another presence’s shoes stepped into the room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It’s Namjoon.

Well, maybe Taehyung should’ve expected this. He was the leader and all. Namjoon had no choice but to make sure the members performed without trouble. Or he’d be the one to get it.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung replies nonchalantly. Going back to drinking his water as Namjoon steps up close to him, the man’s musk filling up the room.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Listen, if you’re talking about the performance- I’ve just been having a hard time lately an-”

“That’s not what I mean,” Namjoon growls making Taehyung glance at him for the first time since he came in. “I’m not stupid Tae, you’re acting up around the same time ___ refuses to answer any of my calls. Something she’s never done before.”

He looks towards the floor for a second before looking back up at the blonde with wide, angry eyes.

“Did…Did you do something to her?”

Taehyung tries to keep his cool. It was hard to do that with your name coming out of the elder’s mouth. Even though he tries to be level-headed, he can’t help the mocking sneer that breaks past his lips.

“I slept with her.” Taehyung says, subtly trying to mark his territory

In an instant, Namjoon is upon him. Grabbing his collar and pushing him against the wall, where his head collided hard with the off-white cement. Making him wince.

“YOU BASTARD. I swear to God if you’re just taking advantage of her-”

“STOP TALKING LIKE THAT. LIKE YOU OWN HER.” Taehyung spits back, “She belongs to me, she’s mine.”

For a second, he thinks he’s won as Namjoon loosens his grip on his collar and stares into his orbs in bewilderment. A small smirk presents itself on his face at his victory, before the irritation in Namjoon’s face comes back, as he grits his teeth.

“You think you’re special just because you made her cum?” Namjoon says in a low, steady tone of voice

Taehyung’s smile falls

“You’re late but…welcome to the club.” Namjoon lets out his own cocky smile directed at the younger, watching the way his eyes widen almost dramatically.

Namjoon lets go of his collar, scoffing before walking away from the man. He knew he was being a bit childish and you’d probably kill him if you ever found out about this but he was too pumped up to care at the moment.

As he gets to the end of the room, he stops and places his hand on the wall by the entryway.

“By the way,” He peeks over his shoulder “Get it together out there. We’re doing another take in 5.”

With that he leaves the room.

Taehyung stands there, staring at the spot where Namjoon once stood with inexplicable emotions.

Even though Namjoon has supposedly won this conversation, what he failed to acknowledge was the absolute fury in Taehyung’s eyes.

Pure rage flowed through his veins as Namjoon’s words replayed over and over in his head. Did he just imply that he…slept with you? That he got to taste your sweet cunt? That he ran his fingers over the expanse of your silky skin? He got to fill you to the brim – got to mark you up with his pretty littles stars?

That he touched what belonged to Taehyung?

He roars in agony, throwing his water and flipping over a table of refreshments. Everything clatters and bangs until he’s left observing the mess littering the floor. His breathing is uneven as his pupils become unfocused. The whole room was suddenly spinning and he stumbles in place for a bit as he feels like the walls are closing in on him. Grabbing his forehead, he blocks his vision with his clothed arms.

He touched something of his, he sullied his property and Taehyung couldn’t stand it. In the middle of his havoc, it hits him like a ton of bricks. What kind of a man had he become in the present years? Is this the values his father instilled in him? Is this how he’ll waste his blood, sweat and tears? In the large waiting room, it felt as if the temperature dropped below freezing as Taehyung straightened himself out - holding onto his dignity with a new-found cause.

He wasn’t going to let the elder get away with this. He couldn’t. His face was vacant, his throat dry and his orbs deadpan. A horrid idea formulating behind his cold facade.

No…he has to pay. Namjoon’s going to regret ever breathing in your direction when he’s done dealing with Taehyung’s wrath.

Everyone needed to know that Taehyung doesn’t share what’s rightfully his.

Namjoon sighed and stretched his sore tendons as he gazed into the deep blue night.

Everything was a clutter in his life. You wouldn’t pick up his phone or answer his texts. He knew how much he relied on you over the past few years and you always delivered, but this time you went off the grid. Telling him you need some time alone for now. Taehyung, on the other hand was acting like a complete fool. They hadn’t talked since their little ‘run in’ a few days ago with Taehyung missing from the dorms all night. And for the first time since their debut, the members all seemed on guard with one another.

It was silent chaos.

He was just tired, honestly. Sometimes he wishes he could rest his aching muscles, hibernate like a bear and not wake up for a month or two. The leader always has it the worst. Some sunbaes and colleagues have mentioned that to him multiple times and he agrees. Having to keep the group together and remind these fucks that it was literally their job to act professional. If thousands of construction workers can work almost 50 hours a week and still manage to earn less than thirty grand a year, he really didn’t see how a bunch of rich idols on stage could have this much trouble performing properly.

It’s literally the least they could do.

Taehyung had always been sort of a brat. His parents favored him the most, so he’s been spoiled since birth. Once he decides something was his, there was no turning back. Maybe Namjoon would sympathize with him more if he calmly spoke about his possessive issues rather than shout the head off anyone who touched anything of his.

And now he had slept with you.

Shit. This was the worst part. Namjoon knew how Taehyung got around lovers. Rather than humans, they became solely his property – for his own pleasure and needs. He dreaded to think that would become your fate as well, so out of slight childishness he might’ve revealed to Taehyung about that one mutual masturbation memory. Although vaguely.

It honestly meant nothing, he was just trying to protect his oldest friend. He thought if maybe Taehyung found out you were ‘tainted’ by him, he would back off. There would be no interest in him for you any longer, so he wouldn’t dare treat you like an object.

At least that’s what he was shooting for.

With a heavy breath, he stands up off the bench pressed into the grassy roots of the lake’s shore. He peered off into the distance, the serene blue water and faint frog croaks made him break out into a dimpled smile. This was his favorite place. Like Taehyung, everyone has something they dislike sharing right?

For him it was this lake. It was his secret spot. Whenever his mind got too crowded and even breathing gave him a headache, he would come here and watch his worries disappear down into the clear water for a while. The lake always reminded him that he was small, that his tensions and problems were all too small compared to the big wide universe.

It made him think. Perhaps he overreacted and lost his cool there for a second. If Taehyung wanted to date you, it’s not his business to meddle in. You were a grown woman – no matter how young you’d stay in his heart – you could take care of yourself. He’s watched you grow from a tiny snot-nosed girl into a bright young lady with a sharp mind and tender soul. He should trust you.

And Taehyung. Wide-eyed, boxy smiled Taehyung was his brother. A man he’s shared much laughter and tears with, a man he’s shared a room with. These years were never easy, but the blonde always knew how to make Namjoon’s day a tad brighter. He should trust Taehyung.

You were his family, after all.

With a new-found mindset, he smiles, turning away from the water to come home to both of you. He begins walking on the grassy path, which led into the trees. It was an especially dark night, there was only so much he could squint and see. The parking lot was located on the other side of the road, as the lake area was surrounded by large oak trees.

There weren’t many people that came here on a Sunday at midnight, which is why it was his favorite time to roam around the area. Some people would mistake it as abandoned with how there were no street lights or rest areas nearby.

As he treads by the trees, he thinks he hears someone stepping on a twig behind him. He stops, turning around into the black forest anxiously. It was too dark to see, so he quiets his breathing, trying to hear any sounds lurking in the branches. A soft wind blows in his face as he can feel himself turning pale.

Nothing. There was no sign of any life.

Even though he’s kind of frightened, he reasons with himself. Animals like squirrels or ducks surround the lake and any one of them could be roaming about. Right?

…But what kind of a squirrel wanders about at 12:34 AM?

Turning back around, he quickens his steps. Ready to get the hell out of here. Because he just watched a horror movie last night, his mind was racing with crazy scenarios.

What if a serial killer roams this lake at this time of night? And he just happens to stumble upon an idiot named Namjoon – or should he say his NEW VICTIM? Who knows what really is beneath that deep murky water? A monster who scours the premises for fresh meat?

Why didn’t he think of any of these issues that could occur with going into a basically deserted side of the city – with a great spot for hiding bodies, let’s point that out – in the middle of the night, beforehand?

When he makes it to the road clearing, he almost cries out of relief. He slows his pace, twisting his body back towards the forest to make sure no one was following him. As his shoes hit the gravel, he can hear himself starting to breathe again. It was still too dark to see, but at least there were no large pieces of bark obstructing his vision.

He was too focused. Too concentrated on the view in his rear to see where he was going.

Too preoccupied to notice how slow he was walking.

He couldn’t hear the lull of the engine. Instead his breath hitching when he catches the leaves of the shrubs ruffling. Halfway through the road, and still looking back. His throat constricting as he sees the fluffy white egret step out from beyond the horde of bushes behind him. Everything goes in slow motion as the bird’s chirp registers in his mind.

He was just too focused on the place he shouldn’t have been.

So, when he finally looked back on the road to spot the car without headlights, heading towards him with full speed-

It was too late.

You had gotten the call an hour ago, and you dropped everything to get to him.

Every single feeling in your leg had left long ago. The muscles in your arms were aching and your voice was hoarse from you wailing in the car. There was an overpowering agony moving throughout your body without consent and you found yourself hyperventilating. As you rush up the stairs – too impatient to wait for an elevator – you trip over a step and catch yourself on your hands, facing the grounds of the stairway.

This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.

You take a moment to catch your breath, getting up and running up the steep steps once again. Letting the sensation of being petrified fuel your adrenaline.

He had called your friend. How he got her number, you don’t know. Too distracted by the message the girl came into your dorm room to tell you.

“Taehyung called me! Namjoon’s hurt. It’s bad – they have him in the secret emergency room at Seoul Hospital-”

You didn’t even wait for her to finish her sentence before you bolted out the door. Through your hysterics and terrible traffic, you somehow managed to make it here in once piece. Thankfully, the media hadn’t been informed yet, everyone keeping the top star’s whereabouts strictly confidential. The nurses were rude when you questioned them about Namjoon’s situation, suspected you as a stalker fan and almost had you kicked out of the hospital until Manager Sejin vouched for you. Sejin was in the lobby, holding half full water bottle and had the biggest bags underneath his eyes.

You pleaded with him, begged him to tell you what was going on, but he just stood there facing the floor. With no time to waste on his futility, you barged into the staircase to find your Namjoon.

This couldn’t happen. You couldn’t lose him. He was your tall and goofy best friend. A clumsy yet handsome older brother. He was your family. Guilt dances across your brain at ignoring him this past week. The timing of this tragedy could not get any worse.

When you finally make it to the emergency surgery floor, you barge in – tripping over your own legs.

As you stand up on wobbly legs, Taehyung’s wide eyes make contact with yours. You run up to him like an insane patient, grabbing his arms.

“W-w-what did the doctor say? How is he? WHAT’S GOING ON.”

“Shh, shh,” Taehyung grabs your arms back, “Calm down, it was a hit and run. Driver got away and a local merchant driving by found him on the road. The surgeon’s in there right now. He’ll let us know how he is in a while. Shh.”

With his words you finally allow yourself to breath gain. Loud cries leave your lips as you clench your eyes shut. Taehyung pats your head, trying to calm your down.

Rubbing your teary eyes, you look around the empty waiting room in confusion.

“Where are the others?”

“I sent the members home, they’ve been up all day. They were reluctant but I told them I’d stay behind no matter how long it takes. His parents are catching the next available flight. They’ll be here by tomorrow morning.”

You steady your exhales as you listen to him speak, “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I did. You didn’t pick up. I had to somehow find Yujin’s number and tell her to tell you.” He states calmly

His maturity in this whole situation embarrasses you. Why had you been acting like such a brat to everyone in the past couple of days? Ignoring texts and phone calls. Cutting off contact with your best friend. Just because of a small misunderstanding between you and Taehyung. What was wrong with you?

“Taehyung…I’m sorr-”

The door of the surgery room opens, making your words hang in midair. The doctor comes out looking tired, removing his face masks and gloves in the entranceway. Letting go of Taehyung, you rush up to him.

“Doctor, h-how is he?”

Taehyung tsks under his breath as you leave his side immediately for news on Namjoon. A dark cloud gathers around his head as his eyes pierce the place you once stood with hate. He turns around carefully, masking his malevolent expression with that of worry.

Years of idol training had paid off well.

“He’s fine for now,” The doctor states in exhaustion, “He was hurt pretty badly, the back of his cranium had fractured slightly, and he broke his left arm and four ribs. We’ve managed to stitch up most of his open wounds but there was a lot of internal bleeding. We’ll have to wait through the night for signs of his progress.”

The doctor pats your shoulder, before walking around you towards the end of the hall. You stand there in shock for a couple of seconds before turning around to face Taehyung. All it takes is for you to see the pain in his pupils before you run into his arms, holding him in a tight grasp.

You cry into his chest as Taehyung wraps himself around you and continues to pat your head.

“Shhh, he’ll be okay. It’ll be alright.” Taehyung coos into your hair, as your tears soaked through his shirt.

What you don’t know is about the wicked smirk gracing his features as he stares a hole through the door of the room that contained Namjoon. His plan had gone way better than he had hoped, and you were finally here beside him once again.

He has to admit, he was scared of getting caught. Who else would have known about his location except his previous roommate who’s he’s shared drunken secrets with. But he knew there was no way Namjoon had seen anything in that dark road and he knows no one would suspect him, his own brother, for trying to kill Namjoon. He was restless all morning, even skipped breakfast and for what? Everything went perfect.

Taehyung smothers your trembling form, running his hands up and down your back for comfort.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. Should he wait for Namjoon to die? Maybe help him along the way? Or should he let him live and let this be a lesson to him?

Backing up, he cups your face in his hands. You were broken, continuing to weep as you settled into his fingers. Kissing your forehead, he rubs his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away all the tears.

Well, whatever he decides to do can wait. Right now, your being nearby was all that mattered. In the end Taehyung wonders if he’s ever hated you. I mean, how was he supposed to know the one he hated was the man he shared a table with? The man who he shared a bed with out of scarcity? Maybe, subconsciously Taehyung hated sharing with the taller man at all. So much so, that all the distribution piled up in his mind until he could no longer stand it.

Maybe he hated how Namjoon took advantage of your generosity, knowing you were a busybody with a help everyone mentality painted across your forehead. He hated how many hours you spent talking to him. Going on and on about God knows what. And he absolutely despised how much time he got to spend with you on an average basis.

Maybe sleeping with you was just the last straw. He was done giving Namjoon anymore chances.

“Taehyung…stay with me tonight.” You whimper to him and he can’t tell those doll eyes no.

They’re his doll’s eyes, aren’t they?

“Of course, baby.” He replies in a low voice, smiling as you hug him once again.

It was all starting to make sense now. Namjoon was fighting for his life while you were holding onto Taehyung for dear life. This is karma for trying to take what belongs to him. Because at the end of the day, everyone knows Taehyung doesn’t give away his possessions. That he protects his property in his own twisted way.

He can’t help but think this is what the older man deserves – this that Taehyung shall refer to as Namjoon’s fair share.

After all, Taehyung hated him for many reasons.

#BTS #Taehyung #Yandere BTS #Yandere Taehyung #BTS Smut #Taehyung Smut #Taehyung x Reader

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five-rivers · 5 years ago

Text

Exile

Prompt by @halfaqueen. My goodness, this took forever to write. I have no idea how it got so long.

Danny hadn't realized that exile was still a thing, but when he and Jazz had gotten expelled, and their parents had been banned or barred from basically all public places, and all of them had gotten restraining orders of one sort or another, and dozens of lawsuits had been filed against Fentonworks... Well... Officially, it wasn't exile, but that was what Amity Park was clearly aiming for with this harassment campaign.

He watched his city, his haunt, disappear over the horizon from the back window of the GAV. It was all he could do not to cry out aloud. Leaving like this felt like tearing part of himself away.

"Don't worry, Danno!" said Jack, leaning over the back seat. He wasn't driving, as he had lost his license early on in the city's war against them. "Just give it a few weeks! They'll be begging for us to come back, what with all the ghost that'll attack!"

This did not make Danny feel better.

"Jack," said Maddie, drawing out her husband's name. As clear as day, her tone said, Don't get their hopes up.

"You betcha! Because nobody can catch a ghost better than the Fentons, that's for sure!"

Jack Fenton hadn't ever been good at reading things as abstract as tones.

"They think they can stop the ghosts by closing the portal? Please! If it was as easy as that, we'd have closed it ages ago!"

Danny cringed, and sunk lower in his seat. No. None of that made Danny feel better.

Amity Park had hired other ghost hunters, blatantly replacing the Fentons, but Danny didn't know how good they were. He didn't know how good he should hope they were, either. On one hand, he wanted them to be bad, so that Amity Park would drop the restraining orders and he could go home. On the other, he wanted them to be good, so that Amity Park would be safe, so that everyone would be safe and no one would be hurt. But, then, if they were good, and everything was fine, that meant that Amity Park didn't need him any more, that he wasn't helpful, and, even though it was selfish, part of him wanted to be needed.

But, worse, what if they were good enough to defeat the more common ghosts, but then someone powerful come through, someone big, and they couldn't handle it? What if the new hunters worked for the GIW and would send the ghosts they caught off to be experimented on?

Danny had warned away as many ghosts as he could about what was happening before they left, but it didn't seem to be enough. And what if that warning got to someone who would see it as an invitation? As an opportunity to strike, now that he, Phantom, was gone.

He'd been so worried, stressed, and paranoid that he'd made himself sick. He was probably going to make himself sick again before the day was out.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he mumbled.

"Didn't we tell you?" asked Maddie. Danny shrugged. "We're visiting some relatives of Jack's. They have an interest in the supernatural, and they offered to let us stay with them while we look for a more permanent solution."

"Yep!" said Jack. "My favorite cousin, Cory! She's not quite a ghost hunter, but she has that Fenton blood for sure!"

"Cordelia Nightingale," said Maddie. "I don't think that her branch of the family has been Fentons since the sixteen-hundreds."

Danny swallowed. He was not a fan of the name 'Nightingale,' all things considered. It reminded him too much of pain and Sam pushed up against a wooden stake.

He decided this, on top of everything else, was a bad omen. He bet that 'cousin Cordelia' was going to turn out to be a ghost or, somehow, something worse. Like a witch. Or she had something like Freakshows staff. Or she grew blood blossoms for fun. Or she was part of a cult.

Ugh, why did that sound like something that might happen? What was his life?

Half gone, that's what.

Jazz patted him on the knee. "Maybe it'll be nice?" she said, hopefully.

"Maybe," said Danny.

He didn't have high hopes.

Sam probably would have liked the house. Danny didn't. The Gothic architecture only accentuated his fears. He frowned up at the spikes on the railing and the darkly painted boards. No. He didn't like this house at all.

He wanted to go home.

But, at his mother's prodding, he bent and picked up his suitcase. Most of his things were still at home and, if this lasted longer than a week, would then be put into a storage locker along with the rest of the family's belongings, to await a time when they once again had a house of their own to live in.

Jack bounced up the steps and pressed the doorbell with his thumb. Almost at once, a thin woman with graying brown hair opened the door. She wore a black turtleneck and a dark, straight skirt that ended at her ankles. Somehow, she made the outfit look practically Victorian.

"Cory!" exclaimed Jack, giving her a trademark Jack Fenton hug.

Both Jazz and Danny cringed slightly. That felt a bit too familiar for someone who he hadn't seen for literally their entire lives. Danny just hoped this wouldn't be Vlad all over again.

But, to his surprise, Cordelia gave Jack a thin smile and hugged him back. She extracted herself and stepped away from the door, into the house.

"Please," she said, "come in. You must all be tired. Amity Park is hours away."

One by one, the Fentons passed through the door, Danny bringing up the suspicious and paranoid rear.

"You must be Jasmine and Daniel," said Cordelia, closing the door. It wasn't quite dark inside the house, but it did feel rather dim. It smelled sweet, but dusty. Like flowers. Old, dry flowers.

"Jazz and Danny, please, Ms. Nightingale," said Jazz.

"Call me Cordelia. We're family, after all."

Was that ominous, or was Danny just paranoid? Well, it wasn't paranoia if people really were out to get you, right?

His breath went cold in his mouth, and something moved out of the corner of his eye. He whirled, trying to trace it.

He couldn't see anything. His ghost sense hadn't gone off.

"Danny?" said Maddie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably my cat," said Cordelia, calmly. "She's a shy little thing, but curious. Don't be surprised if you don't see her again."

"Right," said Danny, doubtful, but not wanting to press the point.

"Now, I've cleaned out rooms for you upstairs," she gestured, and began to lead the way.

Danny started to follow, but another shadow moved at the edge of his sight, this one distinctly humanoid. He turned again, trying to find what cast it. There was nothing. He hurried to catch up with the others.

"Do you live here all alone?" he asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Oh, no," said Cordelia. "This place is much too large for one person. I let out rooms to some nice young ladies who work in town. None of them are here right now, of course, but I'll introduce all of you at dinner."

Well, there went that theory. He glanced back down the stairs. There was definitely a chill in this house.

"You didn't have to give us this much space," said Maddie, snapping Danny's attention back to the conversation. "We should pay you."

"Nonsense. You're family, and those rooms weren't being used anyway. Here, this one has a king mattress, so you two will want this one, even if it is a bit tight, and Daniel, Jasmine, you two take the ones on either side."

Danny and Jazz shared a look. It was a lot easier for Jazz to cover for Danny, or for Danny to sneak into her room for help, when they were next to each other. But there was nothing to be done. They shrugged.

It didn't matter who took which room. Jazz went left. Danny went right.

The room was a lot like the rest of the house. Old-fashioned and dark. It was also meticulously clean and decorated like something out of an old movie. It looked like a set piece. It really did.

Then again, Cordelia did say she had just cleaned the rooms. It wasn't anything to get nervous about, even if it did make Danny feel like he was the main character in a horror film.

He put down his suitcase.

"The bathroom is just down at the end of the hall. The schedule is posted next to it, make sure you write down when you want to shower, so you don't disrupt anyone," said Cordelia, still talking to Jack and Maddie in the hall. "The kitchen is downstairs and in the back. If you take the last of something from the refrigerator, write it down on the shopping list. Otherwise, go ahead and make yourselves at home. Freshen up, take a nap. Dinner is at six."

"Do you want any help with that?" asked Maddie. "You're cooking for an awful lot of people."

"No, no, I'm more than used to it."

"Alright. Did you catch all that, kids?"

"Yes," said Jazz.

"Yeah," said Danny. He wanted to look for whatever was giving him this chill. He didn't like the idea of something supernatural sneaking up on him or his family while he slept.

He couldn't find it, and it was driving him crazy.

There was something in this house, even if Danny couldn't see it as anything but a shadow in his peripheral vision. Jazz couldn't see it at all, but she believed him after that whole thing with Youngblood.

Even if they couldn't find the thing, however, they found lots of other... things. Creepy things. Dead-eyed porcelain dolls. Dusty portraits. Bundles of dried herbs. Weird sculpture things. Light fixtures that should have been updated before Danny was born. A stuffed cat. A closet full of brooms.

"You know what I haven't seen?" asked Danny, as it turned five o'clock.

"No," said Jazz. "What? Ghosts?"

"A litter box," said Danny.

"That doesn't really mean anything," said Jazz. "It could be in one of the bedrooms, or there's a cat door and the cat goes outside."

"Maybe," said Danny. "Let's check out the yard."

This far from the nearest town, the yard was big and cut into a forest that loomed darkly over them even in the bright sunlight. The yard itself was full of flowering plants, but...

"I think these are all poisonous," he said. "At least, a lot of them are."

"Isn't that normal for decorative plants?" asked Jazz. "They weren't bred to eat."

"Yeah, I guess," said Danny, frowning. "But would you necessarily want a cat out here with all this?"

"Cats are carnivores. They wouldn't eat the plants. Can you see the neighbors?"

"No. Too many trees."

"How far away are we, I wonder?"

"It can't be that far," said Danny. "Not if her boarders commute to town."

"That's true. We're not in the wilderness." Jazz scanned up and down the height of the trees. "Not really."

"Maybe a little bit," said Danny. He could imagine some of those trees being hundreds of years old. The ground might not have been untrod by human feet, but... "Does everything here just sort of feel... off? Or is that just me?"

"I don't know," said Jazz.

Gravel crunched in the driveway, audible even from the other side of the house. Jazz and Danny walked to the corner of the house so that they could see around the corner and watch what was happening.

A small white car was pulling into the driveway. It stopped next to the GAV. As they watched, three young women stepped out. One of them had long, dark hair and wore a red sweater and skirt, reminiscent of Cordelia's. The second had pale blond, almost white, hair and wore a deep brown shirt and skirt. The third had red hair, and wore white. All of them had wicked looking boots and matching leather purses.

"Okay," whispered Jazz, pulling Danny back around the corner. "I... Maybe they just like to match?"

"I hate this so much," said Danny. "I want to go home."

"Maybe whatever is going on here is friendly?"

"We are literally never that lucky," said Danny. "I hope it's just a ghost. I can deal with ghosts. It's probably a ghost."

"Really?"

"No. Let's go in. We're going to have to meet them eventually."

"This is Sofia," said Cordelia, indicating the dark haired woman. "This is Alison." She put her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "And this is Morgan." She nodded at the redhead. "Girls, these are my cousins, Jack, Maddie, Jazz, and Danny."

Three sets of eyes moved sequentially from Jack, to Maddie, to Jazz, to Danny. They stayed on Danny.

"It's nice to meet you," said Sofia, still looking at Danny.

He tried to hide his discomfort. Could they tell he was half-ghost? He hoped not. That was his trump card if everything turned out as badly as he feared and he had to get his family out in a hurry.

What he wouldn't give for a piece of concrete evidence right now. Without it, his parents would never listen to him. They hadn't with Vlad.

They were still looking at him. Jazz slipped in front of him.

"So!" she said, brightly. "Dinner?"

Danny pushed back in front of Jazz. "Yeah! It's six, right?"

"Well, it sounds like the kids have inherited that good old Fenton appetite! Huh, Cory?" added Jack

"Yes, yes, come along. Girls, why don't you go ahead and get the table started. No, Maddie, the girls know how I like it, I'll show you later. You just sit down and relax." Cordelia disappeared into the kitchen.

The three younger women moved smoothly around the room, pulling plates and silverware- real silver silverware- from a china cabinet. They set the long table in the middle of the room with rigorous formality. There were more kinds of forks at each place setting than Danny had seen even when having dinner at Sam's. They topped it off with two candelabras.

Cordelia emerged with a casserole dish. Whatever was in it was thick, roughly cylindrical, and covered with a thick red sauce.

"Wow! Is that a roast?" asked Jack.

"Yes," said Cordelia. "I always make this when new guests arrive. The girls have all had it."

The 'girls' nodded as one, and retreated to the opposite side of the table. They almost moved in sync with one another.

Cordelia put the roast on the table, and went back to get side dishes. This gave the three women more time to stare at Danny.

On occasion, Danny did want attention, acknowledgement, what have you, but this scrutiny would have been a bit much even when he was at the height of his 'look at me' phase. He kept a tight hold on his core to keep himself from flickering invisible.

Cordelia came back with two serving dishes full of green... things. Possibly vegetables, but Danny didn't recognize them. She then started to, with excruciating slowness, carve the roast.

The slow exposure of the meat under all that sauce was enough to make Danny vaguely ill. It was too... wet. Too vibrant and too gray all at once. He swallowed against the smell.

"Wow!" said Jack, as Cordelia dropped a slab of meat on his plate. "This looks great, Cory! What kind of meat is it?" He was already sawing away at the flesh. It was all Danny could do to keep himself from slapping it away from him.

"Beef," said Cordelia, smiling at him as she carved. "Locally grown and harvested. It's an old family recipe, from before our branches split and we were all Nightingales."

"You mean Fentons!" said Jack around a mouthful of meat.

Cordelia's smile turned brittle. "However you would like to put it, Jack." She went around the table, serving herself last.

Danny made no move to pick up his utensils. The women on the other side of the table ate while watching him, barely looking at their food. Jazz was the only one who seemed to notice, and when Danny caught her eye and shook his head, she put down the bite of meat she had picked up, turning her focus to the vegetables.

"So," Jazz said, "what do you three do?"

Sofia's eyes flicked briefly to Jazz. "Graphic design," she said.

"That must be interesting."

"It's a job."

Danny didn't eat that night.

"I have some granola bars," said Jazz, grabbing his arm before he entered his guest room. Not that he intended to sleep there. Or anywhere.

"You keep them," he said. "I'm fine. You didn't eat much, either."

"You didn't eat anything," said Jazz.

"I'll be okay." Danny flared his eyes. "I've got an extra reserve, remember?"

"If you say so," said Jazz. She was frowning. "Danny... Let's share a room tonight."

"What?"

"I don't like how those three were looking at you," she said. "I can't believe Mom and Dad didn't notice..."

"They don't notice anything," said Danny. He pulled Jazz into the dubious safety of his room. He didn't want to have this conversation out in the hallway. "Wait," he said, eyes flicking over the room. "Where's my suitcase?"

Jazz shrugged. "Kind of reminds me," she said, not quite whispering. "I was thinking about barricading the door."

Danny hissed through his teeth. "I put my thermos up here when we went to eat. It's gone, too."

"If this were a horror movie, this would be when we yelled at the screen for the characters to leave."

"Think we can convince Mom and Dad?"

"Maybe together?"

Danny shrugged. "Let's give it a try."

They left the bedroom, and knocked on their parents' door. There was no answer.

Jazz frowned. "Maybe they have their earplugs in already," she said. "Can you, you know." She made a gesture where her arms crossed each other.

"Let's see," he said, going back to the bedroom. He waited until Jazz shut the door to turn invisible and phase through the wall.

Passing through the wall felt... odd. Like walking through layers of cobwebs. He shook his head as if to clear it and surveyed the room. Jack and Maddie were already in bed. He made a face and stepped back into the other room, becoming visible and tangible for Jazz.

"They're asleep," he said, shaking his head.

"First thing tomorrow morning, then," Jazz said, wringing her hands. "Maybe- Do you think we should sleep in the GAV? Put up the ghost shield?"

"I'm not even sure that this is a ghost," said Danny. He walked around the bed, part of him still looking for his missing suitcase. "But you have a point, I just..." He glanced at the wall his room shared with his parents'. If he and Jazz slept in the GAV, Jazz would be very safe, but their parents would be vulnerable. If he stayed here, and Jazz slept in the GAV, she'd be safer than sleeping alone in the house, and his parents would be safer, but if something happened to her, he wouldn't be able to react to it, he wouldn't be able to protect her. "I don't know."

"Let's at least go down and look. Maybe you left your suitcase in there, after all?"

"I don't think so," said Danny.

"We can get the weapons locker."

Danny blinked. "I almost forgot about that. Yeah. Let's go."

They were halfway down the stairs when Jazz grabbed his shoulder. "What?" whispered Danny.

"I can't hear anything."

"Huh?"

"This house is old. These stairs creaked when we were walking on it before. Why isn't it now?"

Danny bit his lip. "Let's keep going." He put his hand on Jazz's and made them both invisible.

"I can't see my feet," said Jazz.

"Just be careful," said Danny, continuing down the stairs. "I'm going to phase us through the front door, okay?"

"Fine."

It was still twilight when they stepped outside, the first stars just beginning to show. It wasn't hard for them to navigate, slipping around the white car, but when they did, and finally got a good look at the GAV, they froze.

Jazz said something very un-Jazz-like. Danny let his invisibility fade.

"What happened?" asked Jazz, in shock.

"It looks like someone beat it with a crowbar," said Danny, almost reverently, touching the crumpled metal. "A really big, really fast crowbar."

"Danny, this glass is supposed to be bulletproof."

"And ghost-proof," agreed Danny. "Let's go barricade your room. Think it can get through a dresser?"

The thing about being under high levels of stress for long periods of time was that it was tiring. Exhausting, even. So, even though Danny didn't intend to sleep, he did.

He woke up unable to move, something heavy weighing down his chest. His eyes fluttered open. Something huge and dark, the shadow he'd only glimpsed before, loomed over him, pressed down on him. He could see Jazz's bright hair hanging off of the bed above him. He tried to call out, to warn her, to get her to run, but he couldn't speak.

He couldn't breathe-

When his eyes opened again, light was weakly streaming through the thick glass of the windows, making the dust in the room sparkle gold. He sat straight up, breathing hard. He was still in Jazz's room, the dresser pulled across the doorway. Why do that and then leave him here? It didn't make sense.

"What's wrong?" asked Jazz, voice deep and crackled with sleep. She yawned.

Danny told her.

"That sounds like sleep paralysis."

"Like what now?"

"Sleep paralysis," said Jazz. She yawned again. "Some people get it. They wake up, but they're still asleep and they can't move. And also they hallucinate."

"That sounds fake."

"You sound fake."

"You know what? That's fair. That's actually fair. This whole situation sounds fake, so why not add sleep paralysis to the whole thing? It's better than an actual literal demon." He took a deep breath. "What do we do now?"

Jazz licked her lips and ran a hand through her hair.

"We tell them that the GAV has been trashed, that those women were staring at you like they wanted to eat you all dinner, and that your clothes were stolen. And then I'll spell it out for them, if I have to."

"What, that this place is probably haunted or possessed and Dad's cousin is a witch?"

"No," said Jazz, making a face. "That'll probably only make them want to stay even more. That those three are probably pedophiles who stole your clothing and wrecked the GAV so we couldn't leave, and that neither of us felt safe sleeping alone. Sorry. Then we'll make them call a cab."

"No, no, that's fine. That's a better explanation than I could come up with. Let's do that. I would honestly rather stay at Vlad's than here."

"Yeah," Jazz dragged her hand through her hair again, and grimaced. "Let me get dressed, first. Do you see my brush over there?"

"No," said Danny.

Jazz looked around the room. "Actually... Where is my suitcase?"

"It was-" Danny stopped. "It was in that corner when we came in, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," said Jazz. "Okay, forget getting dressed. We're talking to Mom and Dad now." She swung out of bed and made her way to the door.

Danny phased through her, so he would reach the dresser first and easily pushed it out of the way. He stuck his head out the door, looking both ways for Cordelia and the borders.

The door to the room next to Jazz's, their parent's room, was open.

"Shoot," said Danny. He walked over. "They're not here."

"Downstairs? Maybe they went to get breakfast." Jazz emerged from the room crossing her arms over her chest.

"Maybe," said Danny. He had a bad feeling about this.

Cautiously, they made their way down the stairs and peered into the kitchen. No one was there.

"Hello, children," said Cordelia, directly behind them.

They jumped, both trying to get away and spin at the same time. Jazz clipped her elbow on the doorway and almost fell. Danny caught her and pulled her back up.

"If you are looking for your parents, you just missed them."

"What do you mean?" asked Jazz, a little more sharply than she usually would.

"I mean, they just left," said Cordelia mildly. "They took that vehicle of yours to town to go shopping. Something about not eating me out of my house. It was very kind of them."

"But the GAV was wrecked..." said Jazz, even as Danny gave a tug on her arm.

"Was it?" asked Cordelia, smiling. "It seemed fine when they left. You should get dressed, though, Jasmine, and, Daniel, are those the clothes you were wearing yesterday?"

"Our clothes are gone," said Jazz.

"You left them in your car? Well, no wonder you're looking for your parents. I think I might have some old clothes that will fit you. Come along, now." She turned.

Possibilities tumbled through Danny's head. A large part of him wanted to just grab Jazz and fly away to find their parents in town, but he estimated that there was a pretty good chance that they weren't in town, but trapped here somewhere. Jazz had apparently made that same calculation, because she was giving him the 'don't you dare use your powers' head shake.

Fine. Okay. Play along it was, then.

Cordelia lead them into a dusty ground floor room full of chests. She opened one, knocking free a number of cobwebs. "These are a little old fashioned, I'm afraid, Daniel, but it has been a while since a boy your age lived here." She handed him a small, neat stack of clothing. "And these are for you, Jasmine. I wore them when I was about your age. I grew a few inches, after that."

"Right," said Jazz, already backing away. "We'll just go... change... then. Right Danny?"

"Yeah," said Danny.

Jazz didn't speak to him until they were back upstairs. "What now?"

"Now," said Danny, "I go ghost and see if Mom and Dad are trapped in a dungeon under the house or something. If not, I take you and get the heck out of here. If they are, I rescue them, we get the heck out of here. We'll steal Cordelia's car or something."

"Not much of a plan."

"Don't kid yourself. We never have a plan. Do you want to get dressed, first, or...?"

"Pass."

"I'll have to bring you with me. I don't want to leave you alone up here while I'm searching," warned Danny.

"I know. I don't want to be alone here, either."

Danny took a breath and-

Did not go ghost. He doubled over, gasping for breath, transformation rings flickering to nothing around him as the shadows pressed inward, suffocating him. The huge fingers around his chest- The almost-human silhouette-

"Danny?" asked Jazz, alarmed, shaking his shoulder. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

"Not," wheezed Danny, "sleep paralysis."

The shadows crept up over his eyes and everything went dark.

When he woke up, he was wearing different clothes. Very different clothes. They were all white and loose. He wasn't sure if he should call them robes, but they had that kind of feeling. His shoes were gone. He was in his guest room, on the bed. Jazz was nowhere to be seen.

Danny should have taken his family and run as soon as he saw that not-ghost shadow. He swallowed, shaking, and clenched his fists. It was still here, watching him. He could feel it, even if he couldn't see it.

Okay. First step, get out of here.

He swung his feet off the bed. As soon as they touched the floor, something twined around his ankle and rapidly climbed up his leg. He gasped and yanked himself back, trying to free his knee from the shadow twisted around it. It held fast, firmly squeezing his thigh.

Danny growled. This wasn't the first shadow he had fought. He gathered ectoplasm in his hand and poured energy into it until it burned brighter than magnesium. The shadow retreated, and Danny scrambled to stand on the middle of the bed, ectoblast still in his fist.

"Now, now, no need for any of that."

Cordelia stood in the doorway, not the least bit surprised to see Danny wielding supernatural powers.

"Where's my family?" demanded Danny.

"Safe," said Cordelia, neutrally, "and they will continue to remain so."

Danny shifted, and the bed springs squealed. "What do you want?" he asked.

"My heritage. Come along. I will explain as we go." She turned in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. "Our shadow will not trouble you, should you follow now."

Danny clenched his jaw at the threat but gingerly climbed down from the bed and followed Cordelia across the frigid floor.

"Our last common ancestor was Elizabeth Nightingale," said Cordelia. "She was married to James Fenton. They had two children, John Fenton-Nightingale and Mary Fenton-Nightingale." She paused. "Elizabeth was knowledgeable in what would have been called witchcraft, and she was very, very good at it."

They climbed down the stairs to the first floor. All of the lights were off.

"But, as these things happen, she died. A mistake with a summoning." Cordelia turned into a long hallway Danny had missed in his earlier explorations of the house. "John and Mary were divided on how to handle her legacy. John," the name was said with anger, "decided that Elizabeth's craft, her knowledge, was evil, and decided to destroy it. He burned generations of Nightingale knowledge in a single night. When Mary tried to stop him, to salvage her mother's legacy, he tried to burn her, too. He denounced her as a witch."

"I'm sorry about that," said Danny. "I really am." After all, he knew exactly what that felt like. "But I don't see what that has to do with us. That was hundreds of years ago. A bit late for revenge, don't you think?" A sufficiently disturbed ghost wouldn't, but Cordelia was, as far as Danny could tell, human.

"This isn't about revenge," said Cordelia. "Besides, it has everything to do with you. Of the two of us, you are the one who met the man, Phantom."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no need for you to play coy with me, young man," said Cordelia. "Why else do you think I put so much time and effort into getting you here? The magics to turn your town against your parents weren't child's play, after all." She bent and seized the corner of a rug, pulling it up and back to reveal a trap door. "Neither was calling the shadow to keep you bound." She lifted the ring handle on the trap door, pulling it open. "After you."

Danny stared down the dark hole below. There was a metal ladder, but he couldn't tell where it ended. A very faint light from somewhere to the right reflected off of some of the rungs.

"Is this where you reveal you're a cannibal?" asked Danny, unimpressed. "Is that what horror movie this is?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Although you and Jasmine refusing to eat with us last night made everything harder than it had to be."

That definitely wasn't Danny's stomach growling at the reminder that he hadn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. "Drugged, was it?"

They stared at each other over the trap door.

"If you refuse to cooperate, we can always use Jack. Or Jasmine."

Danny's lips twitched as he held back a snarl. "Fine," he snapped, angrily climbing down, into the hole.

It turned out that the ladder wasn't terribly long after all. It descended into a basement of normal height.

That was, however, the only normal thing about the space. Far from simply being unfinished, the floor of the basement seemed to be stone. So were what little he could see of the walls. It was like the basement had been carved from one huge piece of bedrock, but that couldn't be possible. Danny didn't know, well, anything about geology, but he was pretty sure houses usually weren't built on stuff like this.

To the right, there was a small table with a single burning candle on it and two chairs, one on each side. Beyond that, Danny could make out a circle on the ground marked with chalk.

The cold feeling that had been plaguing Danny since yesterday was a hundred times stronger in this room. His core was alert, but the relief that his ghost sense usually brought just never came.

The strain was beginning to ache.

"Sit down," said Cordelia, indicating the chair closest to the chalk circle.

Danny complied, tense, and Cordelia moved the candle to one side, taking out a book and setting it on the table. The book was old and singed, the edges of the leather cover and several of the pages burnt and curled. Cordelia stroked it, reverently.

"This is all that Mary managed to salvage from the flames," she said. "Just this one book, out of so many. All that knowledge lost. Elizabeth was the last one to have it."

Danny heard movement in the dark corners of the room and turned his head to Sofia, Alison, and Morgan emerging, all of them in robes similar to his own, but in their own colors. They came close, and grabbed the back and arms of his chair.

"You asked me what I wanted. I want Elizabeth Nightingale."

A surprised laugh, almost a scoff, forced its way between Danny's lips. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't exactly have her in my back pocket. Do these pants even have pockets?"

"You might not have her," said Cordelia, annoyance creeping into her otherwise level tone, "but you can get her. Bring her back from beyond."

"Uh, not sure what's in your book, but, contrary to popular belief, not all dead people know each other. She might not even be a ghost. She might have moved on."

"She hasn't," said Cordelia, almost smiling. "Not with the summoning she was doing. We are going to send you to her, and you are going to bring her back." She tilted her head to one side. "We could do this with any blood relative. The original plan was to use Jack, but your condition makes you so much more open to this kind of thing. Your chances of success are much higher."

Danny crossed his arms. "And if I don't succeed, you'll make Dad and Jazz try."

"That's right."

"Why don't you do it?" asked Danny. "You're a blood relative, aren't you?"

"Sadly, the ritual requires four people."

"Yeah, that's the only reason, huh?" said Danny, because he liked to antagonize people he couldn't strike back against in other ways, and also because he was an idiot.

"As I said, we can always use one of the others if you do not cooperate."

"And you'll let us all go if I do?"

"If you bring back Elizabeth, yes."

"Fine," said Danny. "What do I need to do?"

"Very little," said Cordelia. "Give me your hand. Your right hand."

Reluctantly, Danny held out his hand. Cordelia took it and wrapped a thin, white cord around it.

"That will lead you to her."

"I thought you were sending me to her," said Danny.

"You won't be in exactly the same spot," said Cordelia.

Then she whipped a knife out from under the table and sliced deeply into Danny's hand. He pushed back, away, holding his bleeding hand close to his chest. The only reason the chair didn't tip back was because the other three witches were holding on to it.

"Go stand in the circle," ordered Cordelia.

In a fit of pique, Danny phased backwards through the three women holding the chair, not bothering to wait for them to move away to let him go. The shadow pushed uncomfortably against his shoulders, but did not otherwise protest.

The circle was simple, no runes or symbols, just a single line of white chalk on the dark stone. Danny stared at it for a long moment, before stepping over it and standing at the center, his elbow dripping blood as it ran down his arm from his hand.

"Alright, girls, you know what we need to do," said Cordelia.

Danny stood in a field of washed-out red grass. Overhead, the sky billowed with rolling, boiling gray clouds. They seemed too close. The air smelled of smoke. The horizon was blurred and warped, as if Danny were looking at it through thick, wavy glass, or as if in a dream.

This wasn't the Ghost Zone.

He took a deep breath, the smoke washing through him. Okay. He was here. Now he needed to find Elizabeth Nightingale.

He looked down at his hand. The white cord had been turned red with his blood, and it had grown longer, reaching back over his shoulder.

"Eat your hear out, Ariadne," muttered Danny. He looked over his shoulder.

A forest was on fire.

The tall, straight, slender trees burned from their tops, like candles. Their trunks were bare, entirely free of leaves, needles, or branches. Danny should have felt the heat, even at this distance. He didn't.

The bloody cord led between the trees.

"Right," muttered Danny, "because nothing can be easy."

Resigned, he started walking towards the trees and discovered that the 'grass' on the ground actually consisted of thin-walled ceramic-like tubes. Fragile ceramic tubes. The ones he stepped on shattered and cut into his bare feet. He hissed, resisting the urge to hop around and get even more shards stuck into him. The bottoms of his feet felt wet and hot. He tried to phase the shards out and couldn't.

"Is this hell?" asked Danny, aloud. "This has to be hell. Ancients."

He couldn't feel the shadow near him anymore, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Despite the 'grass,' he hesitated to try and go ghost to fly over it. He didn't want to pass out onto the tubes and break them even more. He didn't want those shards in his face or hands.

The squelching of his blood as he shifted his weight decided it for him. He couldn't walk over all of this.

He sent one last look around him for the shadow and summoned his rings. He was relieved when they flowed smoothly over him, transforming him into a ghost, into Phantom.

His normal hazmat suit did not appear, however. Instead, the white robes he had been dressed in turned black. Danny frowned at this. He was not a fan. He wanted his hazmat back.

Whatever. There were more important things to focus on. For example, both his blood and the cord had turned a lurid, ectoplasmic green. Much easier to see against the red-hued backdrop of this world.

He lifted up off the ground and flew on, occasionally pausing to pull shards out of his feet. His accelerated healing made the wounds scab over quickly. The cut on his hand, however, continued to bleed freely. This was beginning to concern him. He didn't have an infinite supply of blood. Or ectoplasm. Whatever.

As he approached the burning forest, he expected to start feeling heat, but even when he was right at the treeline, hovering midway up the impossibly tall, thin tree trunks, he couldn't feel anything. It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. The smoke didn't smell any stronger.

Even so, he knew fire didn't have to be hot to burn. Fire was a chemical reaction, and Danny had no intention of being one of the reactants.

That was, if this place obeyed anything like normal physical laws. Since the trees hadn't actually burned down at all, the fire staying at the same height, he had to conclude that they didn't.

Still. He was going to stay away from the fire. Briefly, he considered flying over the forest, but the cord angled ever so slightly down, and he didn't know how the cord would fare trailing through the fire. Nothing the witches had said made him think it was indestructible.

He flew under the fires. It was bright underneath the trees, in a sort of inverse of a real forest. Bright, dry, and somehow brittle. Danny flew cautiously. This might nor be the Ghost Zone, but he didn't trust it not to have carnivorous landscape features, and even Earthly forests had their dangers. Lions and tigers and bears.

Oh my.

The angle on the cord began to point down more sharply. Danny was getting closer. The forest was also becoming stranger. The tree trunks bled, and glowing eight-legged flies licked at the ichor. Flowers of sickly fire bloomed from the ground in intricate geometric patterns.

Then, amid the burning brightness, Danny saw a house. A big house. A castle, even, its sides built into the burning trees, its pennants alight with flame, smaller fires moving, no, patrolling the battlements.

Danny quickly went invisible. He had a horrible suspicion that Elizabeth would be in the dungeons of that castle. The cord was going to make him hilariously easy to see, not to mention that he was still dripping blood. This was going to suck so much.

But as Danny approached, the fire creatures did not appear to have noticed the cord at all. Some of them even passed through it without slowing down.

Okay. So, as shocking as it was, Danny had actually caught a break.

Slowly, relying on the fire creatures to open the doors, Danny made his way through the castle and down. Down. Down.

The walls down here glowed, as if with heat, but it was a dull, old, tired glow. A rosy cherry color that burned Danny's eyes and made his head pound. Doors in the walls were made of wood that burned from the inside, veins of embers streaking their surface. The bars set in them glowed white-orange.

The green cord snaked across the floor and wove in between the bars of one of these doors.

Danny stopped. He was quite sure Elizabeth was behind that door. But...

Was freeing her the right thing to do? He had gotten the impression that she was dangerous. At least as dangerous as those witches. Even to save his family, should he set someone like that loose on the world?

But Danny had made this decision and all decisions like it the moment he died in the portal. That was the essence of an Obsession.

Besides. Elizabeth was family, too.

He held out his hands, letting frost form on his fingers and palms and pressed them against the door. Once again, he wondered why he couldn't feel any heat. He should. His ice should at least be registering the pressure, the power drain, of something trying to melt it. It didn't.

Ice spread over the door, extinguishing the light and making the metal creak. Feathery tendrils wound up the bars and encased the hinges. The wood began to fall into ash, as if the fire had been the only thing holding it together, and the bars clattered to the ground.

The inside of the cell was incandescent white. The only dark spot was a huddled, burnt black figure in the corner. The cord let straight to it.

Danny, very emphatically, did not want to go into that room. He hovered at the threshold.

"Elizabeth Nightingale?" he called, softly. If the falling bars hadn't alerted the fire creatures to his presence, he wasn't going to ruin that luck by speaking too loud. "Elizabeth?"

The figure abruptly lurched sideways and fell. Danny flinched. Bit by bit, the figure clawed their way towards the door, dragging itself onward.

Danny could hardly bring himself to watch. Part of him wanted to help. Part of him wanted to run far, far away and never come back.

But, at last, the ruined and horrible body made it to the threshold. It reached up with a claw-like hand and grasped Danny's ankle. He cringed at the feeling of the flaking burnt flesh, but didn't try to shake off the hand. He bent slightly, unsure if he should try to help the figure up.

"You," rasped the figure, ash falling from its jaw, "not from here."

"Um," said Danny. "No. I'm not."

The figure began to pull itself up. As it did so, it sort of began to piece itself back together. Danny had seen similar things before, with ghosts returning to their base form, healing, after an unusually devastating attack. Usually, though, it was slower and usually-

Danny abruptly pulled away. Usually ghosts who were doing that were draining his energy to do it. He glared.

"One of mine?" asked the figure, that was now decidedly feminine. It finally drew itself to its knees. Her knees. "One of my," she coughed, "grandchildren?"

"I'm a descendant of yours, I guess," said Danny, cautiously. He wasn't quite pressed up against the far wall, but he was close.

"You came for me," she said. Her voice was still too rough and dry for Danny to detect any emotion in it.

"I was sent," said Danny, flatly. "If I pick you up, are you going to start draining me again?"

She didn't respond for a long time. "No," she said, finally.

"Great," said Danny. "Let's go."

Elizabeth wasn't hard to carry. She wasn't much larger than Jazz, and he flew her around all the time. The problem was, he couldn't seem to extend his invisibility to her. Any power he sent to cover her was simply absorbed.

"Okay," he said, finally. "We'll just have to be fast, then." Mentally, he began to map out the path he would have to take, and how many doors he would have to blow down. It made for a discouraging picture.

"They can't harm you," croaked Elizabeth.

"What?"

"Pure soul. They can't harm you." She reached up to trace his chin and cheek with her still-charred fingers. "You don't feel the heat. You can't. You can't be harmed."

"Uh. Yeah. I don't think that's how it works. I stepped on some sharp stuff when I first got here, and, let me tell you, it hurt."

"The fires can't burn you. Sending you was clever." Elizabeth seemed to have exhausted herself at that; her hand fell back into her lap.

Right. Well. Whatever. The fires hadn't burnt him yet, but he had stayed well away from them. He was going to continue to do so.

He took a deep breath and flew out of the dungeons as quickly as he could. As expected, the fire creatures spotted him quickly, and they began to shout and shriek in a language Danny couldn't even begin to understand.

They also threw fireballs. And fire spears. And fire chains. Just, a lot of things made out of fire.

It was a good thing Danny had ice powers. Otherwise he would have had a hard time combating all this. A few fireballs passed far too close to his head for comfort. His ice also seemed to be unusually effective on doors.

Finally, Danny was able to get above ground, and, no longer constrained to follow the cord around his wrist, he escaped through a window. He spiraled up, almost high enough to hit the underside of the flames licking at the trees, and then dove away.

"So," he said, "what now?"

"You don't know?" Elizabeth looked a lot better now. Almost human.

"I wasn't given a whole lot of information when they coerced me into doing this. They just said to follow the cord to you, and I did that." Speaking of which, what had happened to the cord? It had just vanished, without Danny even noticing. "I was half-expecting to just get zapped back the moment I found you."

"Coerced?"

"They said they'd make my dad or my sister do this, if I didn't, and they can't fly."

"They're alive."

"Yeah."

There was something like a frown on Elizabeth's face. "They shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah. You don't have to tell me that." More shrieks were approaching from the direction of the castle. "They did this with one of your books. Please tell me you know how to get out of here."

Elizabeth licked her lips. Her tongue was pink. "We go out where you came in," she said.

Danny looked at the trees around him. He only knew where the castle was because of the noises coming from that direction. Otherwise, everything looked the same in every direction. He was pretty sure that even if he went back to the castle, he wouldn't be able to tell which direction he had approached it from, and after that...

They were screwed.

"Follow the blood," said Elizabeth.

It was better than nothing, Danny supposed. His green blood did stand out against the red, but he's been high in the air when he shed it. Following that trail was going to suck, and it still required going back to the castle and avoiding all the fire creatures.

Some of this must have shown on his face, because Elizabeth said, "Not like that, boy, look." She pointed to the small puddle of ectoplasm that had dripped from his hand while they had been talking.

Flowers and vines were growing from it. Ghostly green and blue flowers and vines. As he watched, the vines grew longer, the flowers opened wider.

"Oh," Danny said. "I guess that makes things easier."

Easier was, of course, a relative term. Was following the trail left by ghostly plants growing out of Danny's blood easier than stumbling blindly around the burning forest? Yes. Was it easy? No. No it was not. Especially not with the fire creatures hunting them through the trees and how far apart the blood spatters could be.

Still. Danny was able to follow the trail for an hour before the fire creatures caught up to him.

When they did, they seemed almost, confused. They didn't attack. It was like they were waiting for something.

Danny would have run, but he was worried that he'd lose the trail if he tried to do that, and he didn't think he'd be able to find it again. He and the fire creatures stared each other down. Every few seconds, one of them would make a noise and another would answer.

Rapidly, Danny was becoming surrounded. He would have to make his move soon. He really didn't want to lose the trail, but he didn't think he could win this fight.

Too many enemies. Too much fire. Maybe if he flew straight up, he-

The fire creatures attacked. Danny ducked, wove, and conjured shields of ice and ectoenergy, but there was a limit to what he could do against this many attackers, especially while carrying Elizabeth.

He saw a ball of fire coming that he couldn't dodge and instinctively twisted to spare Elizabeth.

It splashed against him harmlessly.

Everything stopped. The fire creatures froze, even their flames going still, as though they were videos that had been paused. One began to wail, and then they all fled, disappearing into the brightness of the forest.

"A pure soul," said Elizabeth again. She patted his shoulder. Her skin was a burnt red, now. Her eyes were as blue as his were when he was human. Her frown was deeper, more obvious. "It was clever to send you... but they shouldn't have."

"Sure," said Danny, a little surprised. He scanned the trees, trying to see if any of the fire creatures were waiting in ambush. Seeing none, he continued.

They reached the field of tubes, and Danny followed his blood trail back to where he had lacerated his feet.

"Now what," he said.

"Land," said Elizabeth.

Danny grimaced, remembering what had happened to his feet the last time he had tried to walk here. He landed carefully on what looked like the thickest part of the vine growing from his blood-

-and was abruptly back in the chalk circle in Cordelia's basement.

The shadow pounced on him. Unprepared, Danny dropped Elizabeth and fell. Pain sparkled along his limbs as the shadow pulled at his ghost form. It was too much. The lack of sleep, the hunger, the stress, the energy he had spent finding Elizabeth and bringing her back, the blood loss and pain from the wound in his hand, his inability to protect his family, and now this attack. He curled up, trying to protect his head and hand, and abandoned his ghost form.

"Stop this at once!"

"Grandmother, I-"

"Call off this shadow."

A beat. "Very well." The shadow stopped its assault, and Danny stumbled up and out of the circle, scuffing the lines beyond all recognition. Cordelia and Elizabeth were the only women standing. The boarders were all kneeling, faces hidden.

"Grandmother, many times great grandmother, I greet you. I am Cordelia, the last descendant of your daughter, Mary, and I have labored long to bring you back to this world, so that your works will not be lost."

Elizabeth, Danny noted, was standing very straight, her skin sunburn-pink in all but a few places, her arms crossed over the burnt rags of what might have once been a shirt. She did not look pleased.

"So my works won't be lost," repeated Elizabeth.

"Your son betrayed you," said Cordelia. "He burned all your books, all your magics. This is all that survived." Cordelia held up the singed book.

Elizabeth pressed her eyelids together briefly. "And so, you forced your cousin, a child, into that place after me, rather than coming on your own?"

"There was no choice-"

"There is always a choice," said Elizabeth, cutting her off with a sharp gesture. "Better that book should have burned as well, and I was imprisoned forever. You were lucky in my captors. Others would have delighted in taking a pure soul as an ornament for their court, even if they couldn't have harmed him."

"You can't mean that-"

"I do. Is it true you have imprisoned the other members of this boy's family?"

"He would never have agreed, otherwise. Please, this is all we have left of our heritage. We need you. This was all necessary. I beg of you, teach us."

Danny began to back away, to the ladder. Maybe if he got out fast enough, he could trap them in the basement and look for Jazz and his parents.

"Do you know how I wound up there? In that place?" asked Elizabeth. "I went too far, and I ignored the rules. What's your name?"

"Cordelia."

"Cordelia. Cordelia Nightingale-Fenton?"

"Just Nightingale."

"I begin to see," said Elizabeth.

Danny was almost to the ladder. Maybe he could tap into his ghost powers a little bit and float up, quietly.

"If you had come to get me yourself, if you had even asked him-" Elizabeth gestured to where Danny had been. Both women did a double-take, and then their eyes traced up to where Danny currently was.

"What are you doing?" hissed Cordelia. This was the first time Danny had seen her visibly angry.

"Stop," said Elizabeth, grabbing Cordelia's shoulder. "What is your name, boy?"

"It's Daniel Fenton," said Cordelia, when Danny didn't answer.

Elizabeth considered Danny for a moment. "Go to your family, Daniel. Whatever curses or enchantments Cordelia cast on them should be lifted. Including that hate curse." She ran her fingers down Cordelia's arm. "Why on earth did you cast that?" Her eyes flicked back up. "Expect to receive my correspondence, Daniel Fenton."

Danny found Jazz and his parents in the attic. Their luggage was there, too, and Danny and Jazz's missing clothing. Maddie's cell phone was going off. Danny ignored it. He started shaking them. Slowly, they came awake.

"Danny?" said Jazz. She scrubbed at her eyes. "Ugh, what's that sound?"

"Mom's phone is going off."

"What?" said Maddie, groggily. "My phone?" She fumbled at her pocket. "Yes, what is it? Yes, this is Doctor Fenton. What? Well," this last word was a bit snide. "It's about time. We'll be there before the end of the day." She snapped the phone closed. "Jack, sweetheart, wake up, we're going back home. All the charges against us have been dropped, and they want us to look into a ghost attack. Apparently, Phantom didn't show up. As we knew he wouldn't."

"Huh? Ghost? Where?"

"In Amity Park, Jack."

"In Amity Park! Alright!" said Jack, jumping to his feet, and grabbing most of the luggage. "I knew they wouldn't last two days without us! Let's go, kids!"

He ran down the stairs. Maddie took a moment to look around, pursing her lips. "How did we get up here?" she asked. She shook her head, dismissing the question. "Do either of you kids know where Cordelia is?"

"She went out," said Danny. "To town. She won't be back 'til later."

"We'll have to leave a note, then. You two should get dressed before we go, or you'll have to try and do it in the GAV bathroom."

"So what really happened?" asked Jazz, after Maddie went down the stairs.

"Long story," said Danny, throwing on a pair of jeans, "and we really do need to leave. Fast." He took his luggage and rushed down the stairs.

Danny watched Cordelia's house shrink in the rear-view mirror of the GAV, right up until it shimmered out of existence like a mirage. He clenched his teeth. He had seen worse.

He turned in his seat and put his hands in his pockets, intending to brood over what had happened, but his hand encountered a stiff piece of paper that had definitely, absolutely, not been there before. Well. Elizabeth had said to expect her correspondence.

He pulled a crisp white envelope out of his pocket. On the front, in spidery cursive, was his name. He turned it over. On the back flap was written the name Elizabeth NF.

She was family. Distantly. He put his thumb under the back flap, and began to open the letter.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 209

209

The problem with supernatural senses was the ability to hear everything. Lance sympathised with Keith, cringing in second hand embarrassment for how his fiancé tried to talk to Pidge. Keith’s awkwardness was a thing of legend. There were a lot of “ums” in his sentence, and he’d twice assured Pidge “that it was okay if she didn’t want to”, before he finally asked if they could talk. The pair of them heading into the house as Hunk kept his eye on them.

“Catching” Hunk staring, Lance decided to say fuck it to manners. Hunk wasn’t upsetting Pidge on purpose. Shay wasn’t upsetting Pidge on purpose. They just weren’t quite clicking and though it wasn’t his place to say it, he didn’t want Pidge to feel left out because her best friend was dating the woman of his dreams

“Hunk, what’s up?”

“Pidge just went off with Keith... I thought they were going to check on Shiro and Curtis... I’m just... uh, I’m kind of wondering why they left”

Scratching the back of his head, Hunk stumped the other “adults” at the table. Allura and Coran both nursing empty tea cups, with Krolia kicked back and holding her half empty beer near her stomach

“It’s nothing to be worried about. They’ll be fine”

“Yeah, but... Dude, don’t you think she’s been acting weird lately? She doesn’t message me as much as she used to, and she didn’t defend how useful UV light could be to hunting vampires”

Hunk took the bait. Sure, Lance had been leading him

“Keith noticed Pidge isn’t happy and he’s gone to have a chat and make sure she’s okay”

Hunk gaped at him. Lance would have chuckled at his friend’s surprise if he hadn’t squashed his ego down. He didn’t want to hurt Hunk, nor did he particularly enjoy the conversation they needed to have. Shay pressed her lips together for half a moment in thought, before breaking her silence

“I can’t remember anything that would have upset her. Are you sure she’s upset?”

“Pidge is learning how much adulting sucks. We’re all in relationships now. We don’t do the fun things we used to do together. We don’t have games night anymore. We don’t hunt. Her best friend is moving in with his girlfriend and she wants to be involved. You guys haven’t done anything technically wrong, she just misses the old times. She’d decapitate me for the hell of it if she heard me. She’s feeling a little insecure right now, but Keith’ll calm her down”

Hunk immediately teared up. Nooo. Not Hunk tears. Whenever Hunk got teary, he did too

“I didn’t... I didn’t realise”

The first tear rolled down Lance’s cheek, causing him to sigh at himself mentally. He was so weak when it came to Hunk tears

“That’s because you haven’t done anything wrong. I’d be mad if you had and my face wound be all scary. Everyone grows and changes. Keith and I can hardly deny we’re very focused on each other. It’s really easy to do when you’re in love. Maybe at the end of the night you could suggest a games night? Or you could have her look at properties with you? She’d probably be able to blackmail the realestate agent into giving you cheaper rent...”

“I didn’t...”

“Dude, I know. I’m in no position to talk either. I let her down too. I let all of you guys down. I love you, bro. I love her, too. You guys are my family. Pidge just needs a little reassurance your still best friends for life... I kind of hope they’re not inside too long, I need to pee... I can’t wait for this pregnancy to be over... I want to meet them already”

Allura placed her hand on his shoulder

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. We all can’t wait to meet them. You and Keith shall be amazing parents”

“Yeah. It’s going to be weird not having them inside me anymore...”

Lance loved it when they moved. He loved resting his hands on his belly and feeling them moving. Already so full of life. He loved belly rubs from Keith, and the way Keith cuddled into his stomach, peppering kissed to his stretched skin as if trying to kiss their twins through it. But everything else was getting too much. The joint pain. The fatigue. The constant heavy feeling in his chest. The last week of feeling constantly ill. His stupid yoyoing ego that couldn’t understand how a pregnancy had weakened him so much. The fits of anger. His overly active sense of smell. He was tired... and tired of waiting... but he... he also wanted to wait until he went into labour naturally so he could keep feeling them inside of him. For years he’d wondered how it’d feel to be human again. To fall in love and do all the other amazing things humans did... He’d never felt more human than in the last month of his pregnancy. He wasn’t sure he could mentally cope with his ego if he and Keith did chose to wait much longer. Mums to be were amazing. Movies just didn’t do justice to all the ups and downs of pregnancy. Feeling a tingling in his skin, Lance looked down at his arm, realising he was starting to burn under the lack of cloud cover. He wanted to give Keith and Pidge privacy, but if he stayed outside much longer, he’d go up in flames... Then again, Keith did say he was “smoking hot”.

Lance’s living room had also been transformed. The same bunting that hung outside, hung from everywhere it could inside. Stopping by the bathroom, Lance waddled in on Keith and Pidge mid-hug. Keith probably didn’t know what to do with being hugged so fiercely, still, it was a nice moment between the pair of them

“Hey, guys. Got room for one more?”

Breaking the hug, Pidge moved to make space between her and Keith. Lance waddling over to drop himself down between the pair of them. Yeah. Keith had a point. Maybe it’d be better to deliver early rather than feel cramping when he sat wrong, or sat too fast. He’d recognised that with fatigue came pain sensitivity. Small cramps had been happening more often over the last week, and he’d been reduced to crying over them more than once.

Leaning in, Keith kissed his cheek, Lance smiling at the action because he was so grossly in love with Keith that even a small kiss still managed to make him feel a million times better

“I thought I left you outside?”

Lance moved to show Keith the start of the sunburn on his arm. He’d run it under cold water to ease the burn, but it was still warm and tender to the touch

“You did. Apparently too much sun is bad for vampires... who would have thought?”

“I did wonder if I should find you an umbrella...”

“I’m fine. Plus, I’ve got my two favourite people here, so I thought I’d come stock up on some love”

Excusing himself to the bathroom, Lance knew he’d upset Hunk yet Hunk had to figure out how to make things right with Pidge without his meddling. He probably could have been more tactful about things, and picked a better time to bring the subject up. This was supposed to be party, not a counselling session. Feeling the twins kicking up a storm, he took Pidge’s hand, placing it on his belly. His friends were good about not just touching his belly without asking first, Pidge the one who seemed to hesitate the most when it came to feeling him being bashed up internally

“I think they know that their Aunty Pidge is here”

“Either that or they’ve inherited Keith’s inability to sit still”

Keith pouted, Pidge poking her tongue at him causing the werewolf to huff

“Lance is just as bad as I am”

“Lance has changed a lot since you came into our lives. You both have. You can tell you two are dating. You’ve got that old married couple vibe where you finish each other’s sentences and sound the same”

Lance couldn’t deny it. Keith had picked up so many of the expressions he used. And Lance had definitely picked up Keith’s habit of swearing openly.

“That’s what happens when you fall in love. Actually, Keith and I have something to tell you. We’re madly grossly in love, not just in love”

Pidge rolled her eyes at him

“I already know that. One bite between you and you’ve both turned into idiots”

“You know what they say, “Once bitten, twice stupid””

“Dude, it’s “once bitten, twice shy”. But I like your one better. You bit Keith to save his life and you both turned into love struck morons with a shared brain cell between you”

Keith frowned heavily at Pidge’s joke, Lance snorting due to how true it was

“He really does feel like the other half of me. I’d be happy to share a brain cell with him any day of the week. I know you’re worried about the future, but you’re always going to be a sister to me, and an aunt to the twins. No more sad, Pidge, not when she’s a scary little ankle biting gremlin that we all love”

Pidge pulled her hand back, looking to her lap

“Hey, you know I’m proud of you, Katie. You’ve been through a heck of a lot, like the rest of us. Things might have changed and they might be scary, but you’ll always have a home here with us... provided you don’t bring your work home and destroy my house with your experiments”

Pidge groaned deeply

“You blow up a circuit board once and they never let you forget it. And, if you call me “Katie” again, I’m going to give you a dead arm to go with that dead body of yours”

“Oh no! The gremlin’s getting angry. Quick, babe. You’d better make her a coffee before her wrath descends upon us”

“Fuck you”

“I’m flattered, but I’m in a loving and committed relationship... I mean, if I were two decades younger...”

Pidge punched his arm to shut him up

“You suck”

Lance continued with his shit stirring mood

“Quite well, don’t I, babe?”

“I’m not getting into this, but yes”

“See, my skills have got Keith’s stamp of approval”

“You’re going to have my footprint stamped to your arse if you keep traumatising me like this”

Wrapping his arms around his gremlin, Lance kissed her hair. Pidge trying to shove him off

“I love it when you’re mean. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you”

“Keith, help. Lance is being weird”

Keith hefted him back so Lance was laying awkwardly in his arms looking up at his fiancé. Bopping him on the nose, Lance went cross eyed as Keith let his finger hover

“Babe, leave the bitey creature alone. She’s fine. More importantly, did you put cream on your arm?”

Lance didn’t really prescribe to the use of burn cream seeing he healed on his own. Cold water would forever be the best things for burns

“Burn cream isn’t always good for burns, aaaaand the aloe vera is in our bathroom. Which is upstairs, and totally too much effort right now”

“You can’t ignore it. Where else got burnt?”

“I don’t know. Stop picking on me. I thought we were picking on Pidge”

“We’ve done that. I’ll grab the aloe vera, and Pidge can get you some blood. We have the whole day to relax... provided no one’s gone and planned party games”

Pidge burst that bubble. That tiny bubble of maybe fitting an uncaught nap in... This fatigue thing was ridiculous

“Oh, dude. There’s totally party games. We’re going to set up penalty beer pong under lunch”

Keith scrunched his brow. From how he was positioned, Lance kind of wanted to poke his finger right up Keith’s nose. It was like his nose was staring down at him, begging to be poked

“Should I be worried?”

Lance didn’t like to brag, but beer pong was his jam. His first time through college not so much, second time, he was pretty much undefeated. With how long it took to set up, it wasn’t usually one of their party games. Poor Keith had no idea what penalty beer pong had in store for him, Lance would have to defend his fiancé’s honour

“Seeing it’ll be you and Lance facing off, you should definitely be worried. Buuuut I totally didn’t tell you that. If you two are going to keep being gross, I’m going to go back to the party”

Whelp. Keith was on his own then... It was nice knowing him

“It’s okay, Pidgeon. Go forth and abandon us. Leave us... be that way... We’ll be back out as soon as I’ve had some blood and this sunburn starts healing. Maybe I should change into something longer, I don’t want to burst into flames at my own baby shower”

Keith bopped him on the nose again, before helping Lance sit back up

“That’s probably a good idea, babe. You’re smoking hot as it is. That’d make you literally flaming hot”

Pidge was completely right. They really did share one brain cell. The idea leaving a stupidly huge grin on his face that Pidge called “creepy” before leaving the pair of them.

Penalty beer pong... of all the things they could have played, they’d chosen some kind of abomination that belonged in hell. After lunch, Hunk had taken Lance aside, while Matt and Pidge took Keith inside. Both of them forced to wear headphones so they couldn’t hear each others answers to the questions for their friends had prepared. Keith felt very very dumb. 20 questions on Lance should have been easy... but their friends had really wracked their brains being creative and going for the odd, mostly unknowable things that he was supposed to know about his “boyfriend”.

With the living area the only place big enough to fit all of them, the coffee table was covered with a thick piece of plywood where the cups were set up. Keith didn’t like to admit that he’d never played beer pong. He’d never had the kinds of friends that did, nor did he go to college. One of the more popular games at Blade headquarters was darts with knives instead of darts, and vampire faces for targets. You took a shot if you failed to stick the knife in the vampire when it was your throw. He’d never been invited to play with James and the rest of them... He and Shiro used to have shooting target competitions, but that was just the pair of them with the winner getting out of some mundane house chore, that Adam usually scolded them about.

Kneeling across from him, they’d both avoided the penalty cups so far. Keith thought not getting the ball in one meant not having to drink what was it in. No. Instead the penalty was played out for each question they got wrong about each other. Each cup contained some kind of condiment construction Keith really wanted to avoid. It started tame, first with chilli sauce, then soy, then vinegar... slowly progressing in quantity and combination. The last cup was a grotesque mix of what seemed to be a little of everything from Lance’s pantry. Having swapped questionnaires, Hunk and Matt were their quiz masters. They were fifteen questions in, Keith not feeling the effects of the vodka he’d had to chug when Lance got the ping pong ball in his cups. His fiancé, not able to drink, was delegated water. Keith wasn’t sure that Lance actually won anything from playing against him seeing he’d have to pee the moment the game was done.

“Lance. What is Keith’s most annoying habit?”

Throwing the ping pong ball, his fiancé landed it perfectly in the cup. That’s how it went. Question, throw, answer, shot...

“His amazingly lacking self confidence since turning into a werewolf”

His damn fiancé got that one right... like the rest of them.

“Keith. How many years, combined, did Lance spend attending University?”

How the fuck was he supposed to know that? He didn’t know how long it took to be a lawyer... he didn’t know how long it took, or if Lance had any recognition of prior training to drop the amount of time he was required to study, plus his fiancé was a smart little shit... Lance looked sympathies and smug at the same time. Yeah. His questions were far easier than Keith’s had been. Tossing the retrieved ping pong ball, it landed in one of the penalty cups

“Um... I’m going to with... um... 12 years”

Lance groaned, Keith knowing he’d gotten the answer wrong. Matt delighted in telling him

“11 years and six months. Apparently being a lawyer in the early 90’s meant less time in class... Your first penalty shot is chilli sauce. Bottoms up”

If a jalapeño’s had sex with another jalapeño, then their offspring continued in breeding, that would only explain the fire in Keith’s mouth. His eyes running as his throat burned. That wasn’t simple chilli sauce in there

“God... it burns... what the hell is that?”

“Ghost pepper sauce”

Lance shot Matt a glare

“That’s not very nice. You guys are dicks”

Matt shrugged at Keith fanned his burning mouth

“Then he shouldn’t have gotten the question wrong”

“We didn’t really talk about it. Babe, you okay? Rieva, can you get Keith some milk, please. You guys are banned from giving Keith chilli ever again”

“Chill, dude. He’ll survive. Right, it’s your turn”

Lance plucked the ball from what looked to be soy sauce, unamused Keith’s ego wanted to flip the stupid board of cups over. Their friends were slightly laughing at his reaction to the chilli and Rieva hadn’t gone to get him a glass of milk

“Okay, Lance. What’s Keith’s deepest secret that he’s hiding at he moment?”

Keith had answered “He’d always believe in mothman until his dying breath”. Lance hummed at the question

“That he doesn’t hate Lotor as much as he says... it’s either that, something to with me, or something to do with his crush on mothman”

“Correct...”

No. That wasn’t correct at all! The game was rigged

“You two didn’t bother telling us that you’re engaged! Which is a secret to do with Lance, so technically correct!”

Suddenly Keith got the feeling that beer pong was less about what they knew about each other and more about what the group suspected and wanted to confirm

“They’re what?!”

From Pidge’s yelling, she mustn’t have been in on it... So this was all Matt’s idea to get them to confess to their secret engagement?! He could strangle him for putting them both on the spot like this. Right. He could play it cool... yep. No secret here

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, dude. We found the empty ring box in your bedside drawers. Why didn’t you tell us?! Do you know how happy we are for you guys?! This is awesome... Maybe not as awesome as Rieva saying yes to me, but we’re supposed to be your friends! We need to have a party to celebrate this”

Ahhhh. Keith wanted to laugh in relief. They hadn’t been caught yet, and now it seemed like a pretty fun idea to mess with Matt for going through their things

“That’s was from Krolia. There was never any ring in that box”

“You expect us to believe that?”

Keith glanced to his mother, Krolia shrugging as the others also looked to her

“Miriam and I both thought they’d make the cutest grooms. It’s not my fault he hasn’t proposed yet”

“What makes you think I’d be the one asking? Lance could always ask me, right, babe?”

“Yep. I totally could have been the one to ask him”

Sharing a look, Matt and Hunk both chuckled. Their “Sunshine Teddy” shaking his head

“Man, we all know Lance is the romantic one. He’d spend everyday waiting for you to ask, rather than asking you. Then, he’d expect the whole fairytale night. Dinner at a fancy restaurant. A bouquet of red roses as big as him...”

Hunk counted on his fingers, Matt adding as Hunk stalled mid-thought

“Don’t forget the champagne and the hotel room”

Hunk quickly counted those two on his fingers

“Yep. Lance is too much of a romantic”

Matt nodded quickly

“He’d drop hints too... Romcoms. Jewellery brochures... Though you’d probably miss them like you missed Valentine’s Day”

The pair were ganging up on him, Keith depressed about the fact they were right. Lance would have loved all that, but his fiancé didn’t need all that. He’d proposed in a horrible hotel room...

“Keith is romantic. Sure, his idea of good date is a trip to a shooting range, or some other combat related activity, but he’s very romantic. I don’t need all the fuss, I just need him”

Hunk faked feeling faint as he grabbed Matt by the arm, Matt playing it up and acting as if he were concerned

“Hunk?!”

“I’m okay... I never thought I’d live to hear Lance say something so unLance like. Pregnancy has changed you, man. Next thing you’ll give up watching your soap operas... Dude, my heart can’t handle the changes”

Keith mentally thanked Lance for trying to stick up for him. He wasn’t the world’s greatest fiancé, yet he felt better that Lance thought he was good enough for him. His fiancé had more to say on the matter

“You two keep picking on Keith. He’s awkward and he’s a little emo, but he makes me happy. We could get engaged in a room so dingy that Jesus couldn’t save it, and I’d still be happy”

Hunk waved his arm, kind of weirdly and kind of as if he were trying to gesture “how big this was”. Keith felt his lips turn upwards as Lance pretty much told everyone they’d gotten engaged while away, yet none of their friends would put two and two together

“But as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always been a sucker for those big movie engagement scenes”

“Movies aren’t real life. Matt, that box wasn’t any of your business. What were you doing in our room?”

“Helping Shiro and Curtis build your present. We were looking for an adjustable spanner”

Lance leaned back to rest his weight on his hands, bottom lip wobbling

“You know the tools are kept in the laundry, and you know you’re not supposed to be in my room...”

“We were...”

No one messed with Lance’s room, or his bed. Lance washed and changed the sheets alone, swapping the blankets whenever the whim took over

“I don’t care. I’m sorry, but I can’t... I need air”

Keith jumped to his feet before Lance started started struggling to his. As Coran went to help the vampire, Lance slapped his hand away with a sad “sorry”. Moving to Lance’s side, Keith looped his arm around his waist

“You guys can take over playing. No listening in”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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