#I think because they’re both deities of darkness they wouldn’t really be that effective against each other

[shadelorde]

Vaatu from Legend of Korra vs the Shade Lord from Hollow Knight what do we think chat

no options for "they wouldn't fight" or "they would kiss", they are fighting and that is FINAL

[serendipityunho]

Cheat Codes (M)

❀ Genre: smut, angst, college au ❀ Pairing: dom!Seonghwa x brat!Reader (fem.) ❀ Word Count: 5.3k ❀ Warnings: explicit language, intoxication, brat taming, hair-pulling, fingering, biting kink, blowjob, teasing, clit play, dirty talk, begging, explicit sexual intercourse, a little bit of a fight between seonghwa and yunho, yunho got his feelings hurt :( 

❀ Synopsis: "This party's boring, wanna get out of here?", may have perhaps led you to make the biggest mistake of your life by sleeping with your best friend's other best friend, your best friend who happens to be in love with you.

Another year, another number changed on his age. Despite that change, Yunho would always remain a child at heart, getting excited and wide-eyed at the birthday cake you’d always bake him. But for the past couple of years, there’s been a twist, he was able to drink legally. Since then, parties and gatherings were always wild, bringing a new meaning to the word ‘celebration’.

You’d do anything for your best friend, and he’d do anything for you. Yunho was there for you since you could remember, he was the first to show up with a bandaid when you fell off your bike or when you tripped over the rock chasing him around his house. It was an unbreakable bond, everyone knew it, they could see it, how close the two of you are. 

“One time for the birthday bitch- Ow! What was that for?” Mingi shot Yunho a hurtful look as he rubbed his arm from Yunho’s warning punch.

“Call me a bitch one more time and let’s see where that leads you,” he was obviously kidding, who in their right mind would ever dare to harm Mingi? All he does is just vibe in his own little world, smiling at every living thing.

This year, it was a whole lot more different compared to his usual birthday bashes. The girls, the beer kegs, the rave lights, the party animals? Not a single one in sight. Yunho thought it was time for a change in the annual scenery, it definitely let the both of you breathe a little bit more.

To be honest, it felt quite unusual without the booming music and sweaty bodies sexually grinding against one another. Not that you were complaining, it was a relief not to witness any more wild scenes.

Last time, San had to get stitches on his head as a result of slipping off the diving board. And Mingi? Let’s spare the details and just say his chest was in pain from a Hennessy-drunk-Wooyoung trying to vacuum his ��tiddies’. Don’t ask how he managed to secure a vacuum in the first place. 

“Happy birthday, shithead,” was the first thing you say to him, pulling yourself onto one of the kitchen stools as you watch him gulp down a cup of whatever mix of alcohol he had swirling in there.

“Thank you, shithead, want a drink?” Yunho always offered you drinks whenever he had the chance, getting you drunk was always his favourite thing to do. Why? It was so he could freely express his feelings for you without the fear of you remembering it the next day. 

How did you know that? Yunho had once underestimated your drinking ability. It was quite a night to remember when Yunho mistook your fuller cup of alcohol for his, making him spew out the most cooing confession you’ve ever heard.

It honestly didn’t come as a surprise. One of you was doomed to fall for the other, he just happened to be the first. 

“No thanks, we’re keeping it calm this time, remember?”

“Right, right. Calm.” 

Several of his friends had been invited to Yunho’s little birthday gathering. They had just been as confused as you were when you were told there was no big party this year. But, of course, none of them questioned the birthday boy of his intentions.

You’ve familiarised yourself with their faces around campus, but San and Wooyoung were the only two you’ve actually brought yourself to talk to beside Mingi occasionally. The two were tight-knit, maybe even more so than Yunho and yourself. A pair who wreak chaos and havoc everywhere they go. No one could ever forget the time Wooyoung walked the walk of shame with nothing but a pizza box covering his lower region and San’s beanie on his head. 

“You never told me what’s with the sudden change,” no one had really asked Yunho, maybe that’s what he liked about them, the suppressed urge to ask a million questions. “No girls accepted your party invites? Shocking.”

“No, it’s not that,” Yunho sighed, leaning back against the counter with his hand wrapped on the edge. “I can’t have big loud parties for the rest of my life, you know?” 

“And what about it?”

“Don’t know, I just felt like having people I actually care about here,” it was rare to have a friend like Yunho, sure he was easy to talk to but that doesn’t automatically make someone his friend. “A time where I don’t have to fake a smile for an entire night because that shit just makes my face cramp.”

“Oh, please, don’t get all soft on me now. It’s your birthday, cheer up a bit, yeah?” You punched his shoulder playfully before hopping off the stool, grabbing his hand to lead him to the yelling boys in the backyard. 

“Pftt- I’m not getting soft, you know it’s the Vodka.” oh, the excuses always amazed you.

You could feel goosebumps poking out from under your cold skin, the night was chilly with a few waves of shivering breezes, you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself for forgetting to bring a jumper with you. Yunho probably had none left considering you’ve stolen almost all of them to bring home.

It was a mystery how none of these boys reacted the way you did to the cold, it was as if their skin was ice itself. They just continued yelling and throwing arms around each other like it wasn’t a single care in the world. The brooding effects of alcohol, you could say.

Yunho wasn’t particularly a wild drunk, but when he was, it was something that needed to be recorded and watched the morning after. He was never wildly drunk at his big birthday bashes but tonight was, as said, different. Drowning himself in bottles of soju until his pale skin flushed bright red, Jongho could probably mistake it for an apple and break his skull. God hopes that doesn’t happen.

Despite familiarising yourself with the new crew, there was one who you couldn’t help but pay attention to more. He wasn’t like the others, he didn’t give off San and Wooyoung’s chaotic behaviour, he didn’t carry Hongjoong’s talkative manner and he definitely doesn’t seem like he would replicate Mingi’s clumsiness or Jongho’s bright personality.

The best you could assume from this boy was that he would probably share the same bluntness as Yeosang. Cold and blunt. Nothing else.

Park Seonghwa.

There was something about him. Maybe it was the sense of mystery that caused him to occupy most of your headspace. He looks like he holds a lot of mystery, mysteries you were eager to explore. 

You didn’t even realise you were staring blankly at him until the brooding pair of dark brown eyes met yours from across the circle of fold-out chairs, making you choke on the cheap liquor before quickly snapping your gaze away from the boy and to the drunken group of boys looking like they were playing ring-around-the-rosie.

It was just the two of you. Sitting in the array of seating with live entertainment before your eyes. Entertainment as in watching Mingi trying to lick his elbow. You could’ve sworn the people in front of you were simply just children in the bodies of grown men. Where did Yunho even find these boys?

Amusement from watching the chaos unfold before you quickly washed away as you kept your seat warm, watching your liquor hitting the sides of your cup as you lazily mixed it. Laughter boomed recurrently throughout the backyard, something that was honestly keeping you awake for the night.

You hate to say it but, you were bored as fuck. 

Sure, it was nice to stray away from Yunho’s regular birthday bashes but a little more entertainment rather than alcohol and snacks would’ve been a little nice. The several bodies of young men seem like they’re having the time of their lives just dancing on the edge of the pool right now, one was surely destined to fall in and cause a chain reaction.

Seeing Yunho so happy and not actually fake smiling was enough to convince you to stay and not drag him to the closest nightclub. What the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.

“Hey,” the voice was nothing like you’d expect, soft and comforting but deep and brooding at the same time, making you snap your attention to the boy sitting down on the chair next to you.

“Hi,” was he as bored as you were? Looked like it. His cup was nearly as empty as yours.

“How long have you known Yunho?” Seonghwa asked, slouching back against the flimsy chair as he downed the last of his drink.

“Since we took our first baby steps. Childhood friend, and you?” 

“Known the big guy since highschool,” that’s weird, Yunho never mentioned a guy named Park Seonghwa once in his life till now. Let alone, you’ve never even seen him around school since the two of you went together.

“I don’t remember him telling me about you until now. Did you go to the same school as us?”

“I studied abroad in Australia, that’s why he never mentioned me. Thought our friendship wouldn’t last by the time I got back so there was no point in bragging about it.”

Well that explains it then.

“Huh, interesting,” despite sitting a few feet away from the pool, the lights had illuminated his face perfectly, showing off his sharp features you were able to admire from up close when he moved seats next to you. There was one thing you were captivated by the most. His eyes.

They were very alluring eyes, it was as if they were hand-sculpted by an almighty deity itself. 

His leather jacket framed his figure perfectly, a beautiful man with a sense of style? Makes you wonder if he has a girlfriend.

“Yeah, look,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his sleek black hair before inching closer to you. “I don’t know how to say this but, this party is getting boring. Wanna get out of here?” 

And so you were right.

“As much as I would like to, I don’t think I should keep him out of my sight.”

“We can just go somewhere more calmer like upstairs if you want?” You wanted to snort at his desperation. It was clear what his intentions were and he obviously wasn’t trying to hide it. Yet, you weren’t willing to hide yours either.

“Yeah,” you smirked, licking your top row of teeth before pushing yourself off the chair. “We can go upstairs.”

Seonghwa didn’t even bat an eye before taking a hold of your hand in his, literally dragging you back inside the house where he discarded his empty solo cup in the trash along with yours. The source of laughter grew quieter as the two of you descended further into the house, silently navigating up the staircase with nothing in mind other than the fact that both of you were obviously desperate for some sort of action.

Your easy agreement probably made it sound like you were one of people who slept with anyone they could, but that wasn’t the case. Turning down boys was practically your profession. But with Park Seonghwa? You wanted a taste of that. 

You wanted a taste of his mystery, you wanted a touch of that tattoo strip on the side of his neck and the ones on his fingers. You just wanted to feel the flexed bicep underneath the tough leather jacket and the alcohol kissed lips against your neck and preferably on every inch of your body.

Who could blame you for wanting to?

“I didn’t think you were the desperate type,” Seonghwa lows, pushing you against the bedroom door as he locked it. 

“I’m not,” your eyes flicker up to his, smirking as you place a hand on the side of his neck, tracing his tattoo with your finger. “You just happened to catch my attention recently.”

“I’m flattered, really,” Seonghwa smirked, eyeing your features with his arms caging you between his body and the door.

“Just fucking kiss me already.”

“Oh, you’re so desperate for me to just fuck you right now aren’t you?” Seonghwa growled, grabbing your waist and pushing you backwards onto the bed until you were flat on your back.

“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to beg for it,” patience wasn’t really on your side, you weren’t gifted with it at all. Especially when it came to fucking.

“Alright, bet.” 

A pair of luscious lips slammed against yours in a matter of seconds, Seonghwa was pushing your body deeper into the mattress as his knee pushed open your legs and hands sliding up from your sides to your hands. It was as if you were kissing nothing but mouldable chocolate that tasted of a faint strawberry chapstick, kissing it so hungrily.

“You think I can’t make you beg? Just watch,” Seonghwa’s lips hovered over yours, barely parted as he pushed your legs further apart with his knee, fingers popping the button of your jeans before pulling down its zipper.

“I don’t give in ea- shit,” your head lurched forward as Seonghwa pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing it slowly before guiding it down to your folds and cloaking his fingers with your wetness.

“Fuck, what was that? Starting to get wet for me?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t have a stiffy here,” you could feel Seonghwa’s hard-on underneath his jeans rubbing against your thigh, making you smirk before subtly moving your leg.

“Are you trying to make me beg? No, I don’t play like that,” Seonghwa lowered his face against your neck with a low groan, sinking his long fingers into your pussy with ease before pumping them in and out, earning a quiet whine from you.

“Tsk, tsk, I can do this all night, you know?” You could feel a smirk against your neck, the chilling inhales and exhales against your skin sent shivers down your spine as Seonghwa quickened the pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you, causing your knees wanting to shut close.

“Fuck- Seonghwanggha,” he wasn’t kidding when he said he could make you beg. You were literally on the verge of it. His fingers weren’t enough and he knew that, they were just enough.

“Aw, are you getting needy? Hm? Do you want more?” The tease sent your brain into a frenzy, cloaked with a thick film of haze as Seonghwa starts to rub your clit with the palm of his hand while still fucking you with his fingers. 

“Yes, jesus fucking christ- yes!”

“Yes what? Hm? What do you want?” 

“You.”

“I need you to say it.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod- I want you to fuck me.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”

“Fuck me, I want you to fuck me- ughhnah fuck,” a sharp pain brews against your neck, Seonghwa had caught the flesh of your neck between his teeth, biting it while pulling your jeans and panties down to the floor. 

A moan slips out of your mouth as Seonghwa licks the spot on your neck, kissing it before sucking on your jawline. The sudden idea of where you were and what you were doing left your mind like a flash, all you could think of was being touched, touched by Seonghwa and kissing his tattoos on his fingers that were knuckles deep inside of you.

“Told you I would make you beg.”

Underestimation was always your weakness, tonight was a clear sign you should probably stop doing that. 

“You flatter yourself too damn much,” you grit, flipping Seonghwa onto his back before lowering yourself onto the waistband of his black jeans, eyeing his bulging erection with a smirk.

“But was I wrong? I don’t think so,” Seonghwa sits up, holding the side of your face in one of his hands before sliding them up to your hair. Your mouth shoots wide open as Seonghwa suddenly grabs a hold of your hair, pulling it back to expose the bruised skin on your neck.

Oh, how much you wanted to just rip his tongue out for his reckless teasing. It was driving you wild, too insanely wild. But you love it.

His belt unbuckled with ease as you yank his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, freeing his hardened cock that just hit his stomach. Your shirt already found itself discarded onto the floor with the rest of the items pulled off your body, as if they were just another decorative piece on the floor.

The longer he watched you with a cocky smirk, the more you wanted to just slap it off. But you were so turned on. So, so turned on you could practically feel your wetness smearing between your thighs.

A small wince shot out from above you as Seonghwa hissed through his gritted teeth, staring down at his dick in the palm of your hands, squeezing it lightly before slowly pumping. You knew if you decided to tease him, it wouldn’t end well for you, what else could you expect from a man like this?

“Jesus fucking christ,” Seonghwa moans, head falling back as he props himself up with his elbows. The tip of his dick was itching to hit the back of your throat any second now, just waiting for him to buck his hip up into your mouth.

It was the brief groan from the back of your throat that sent Seonghwa’s thighs squirming and abdomen tensing hard. You could tell he was enjoying the way your tongue swirled around the base of his cock, pressing against his length with enough pressure to have him gripping your hair.

Just the sound of him reacting to your mouth sent your head into a cloud full of lust. You wanted more and the best you could do at the moment was just rub your thighs together in anticipation as your eyes shot up to Seonghwa’s, droopy and filled with nothing but desperation.

“Fuck, you’re good,” his scrunched up face said it all. “Come here.” 

You remove your lips from his throbbing length with a kissing sound before climbing on top of him only to be flipped right around, wrists pinned down on either side of your head. It was impressive how he could do that so nonchalantly with nothing but a cocky smirk.

“I should’ve guessed you were a brat,” Seonghwa hissed, brushing his tip against your clit. The urge to just buck your hips against his was killing you but you knew it would only do more harm than pleasure.

“Then I guess you better fuck me like one.”

The fire in his eyes was more than any sentence. His desire was fuming inside him, eager to cloud his judgement the moment your hole stretched from his length suddenly sliding into you.

He sure knew how to work his dick right when a grunt outed from your mouth as Seonghwa hooked his hips at an angle before thrusting. The eye-rolling pleasure only lasted a few seconds before Seonghwa quickened his pace, starting to snap his hips into you as he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him, but he knew what he was doing to you. He was doing it on purpose. There was no way he was going to let you kiss him. No way to busy your mouth as moans escape it recklessly.

“Ohffuck-” your head was growing lighter and lighter by the second, back arched off the mattress by now if it wasn’t for Seonghwa pushing your knees against your chest.

It was quite embarrassing hearing just your moans bouncing off the walls of this room as Seonghwa was pile-driving you deep into the bed, it only made you more desperate to crash your lips onto Seonghwa’s to deafen them. You really didn’t want to bite down on your arm, but you were more desperate than ever.

“Aw, why are you being so quiet hm? Is this dick not satisfying you enough?” Seonghwa smirks from above you, parting his lips so you could finally hear his staggered breathing.

“Y-Yeah, something like t-that- unghh,” sarcasm was undoubtedly your go-to method to cope with certain situations, but this time it was sarcasm that would get you more than you asked for.

“Oh? You really want to fucking play like that? You’re not going to be able to walk once I’m done with you.”

Emptiness looms in your heat as Seonghwa pulls out, latching either side of your waist before flipping you around on your stomach in a flash. A surprised gasp left your lips as he stingingly squeezed the flesh of your ass with a chuckle, hoisting you onto your knees.

“You really think you’re different from everyone el- mhmmh,” your snarky remark was cut short when you felt a hand push the side of your face against the mattress, legs twitching as Seonghwa thrust himself into you once again.

“You’re getting on my goddamn nerves,” Seonghwa snarls, keeping a tight grip on your hair in his fist as the other hand smoothes over your side.

The pumping pleasure coursing through your body felt electric, making you feel like you were above the clouds with each hard thrust. You could feel your ass bouncing as Seonghwa’s thrusts became sloppy, louder as the room echoed with nothing but a mix of your lewd moans and slapping skin.

“Tsk, I can feel you shaking underneath me. Regretting it yet?” 

“I can fucking handle it, shut up,” you weren’t raised as no weak bitch.

“I really hope so,” well fuck. You could feel your thighs quivering as Seonghwa slowly pushed your legs further apart, stomach falling closer against the mattress. Just barely above it. “Impressive.” 

It was a new angle that had you wanting to cry, with the way his cock hit deep in you and both of his hands either side of you holding him up. You couldn’t help but let your face fall against your arms, breathing as if it were your last and brows furrowed so hard you could feel your face about to cramp.

“Seonghw-aaahhmhm,” your legs twitched, pushing themselves higher off the mattress as your ass hits Seonghwa’s stomach with no choice. You couldn’t hold the position any longer unless you wanted to burst into tears from the burning in your thighs.

“What’s the matter huh? I thought you could handle it.”

“P-Please,” you cry.

“What do you want?”

“Kiss me- just please fucking kiss me,” your voice grew deeper and louder, desperation dripping from your tongue like poison as you push yourself off the mattress and flip Seonghwa onto his back with no time wasted in hoping your soaking wet cunt back on his length.

“Get your pretty lips here then,” your lips crashed harshly onto one another, teeth clashing as saliva coated your lips. The weak taste of his strawberry chapstick was still there and you loved it, love the way his lips moulded perfectly with yours each time as his hips snapped up into yours.

Seonghwa’s hands grip your hips roughly as he tries his best to hold them up with your legs quivering. His hips were snapping up briskly with a slap, shooting immense pleasure through your body like little sparks bottling into a ball in the deepest pit of your stomach.

“Oh fuck, right theremhmmgh right there,” you whisper a moan against his lips before letting your face fall in the nape of his neck, hand cupping the side of his face as the other grips the bedsheets.

Seonghwa just couldn’t control the loudness of his breathing anymore, grunting through gritted teeth as he shut his eyes close and glutes on fire with how rapid he was moving his hips. It was a breath-taking moment with your knuckles turning white and nails on the verge of tearing into the bedsheet as the pleasurable feeling of his cock pounding into you from below just pushing you to the edge of your combustion.

“Uggnghh- shitohmygod!” your fist loosened on the bedsheets before slamming them closer to your body, pushing yourself off of Seonghwa’s chest with a high-pitched moan and wide mouth as your brain turns into mush. Nothing but electrifying pleasure washed over you like a tsunami, making you clench tight around Seonghwa’s cock and gazing into his droopy lust-filled eyes. 

A white film casts over your vision as you lower your lips onto Seonghwa’s, giving him a slow intent kiss as his hips calm down. Legs still quivering with the slightest movement as you lowered yourself with him, making his length slide out of you with ease and just poking at your stomach.

Seconds which felt like minutes went by with nothing but silence. Just basking in your own silent thoughts in your own heads.

You should’ve felt anything. Anything but guilt.

Why guilt? Out of all emotions, why guilt after fucking a stranger you just met? A stranger who was brought to you by your best friend. Your best friend who once confessed he loves you.

“This was a mistake,” you didn’t think twice before scattering to get your clothes, rushingly putting them back onto your body as Seonghwa was left there with confusion written all over his face.

“Wait,” he booms, “what do you mean this was a ‘mistake’?” 

Seonghwa replicated your actions and started putting his clothes back on in a swift, still waiting for an answer after you responded with nothing but silence. He should’ve known, he was Yunho’s best friend too after all. 

“Listen, just forget this ever happened, please,” just thinking about this night would eat you alive, and it would definitely kill Yunho from the inside.

Before Seonghwa could say anything, you dashed out of the bedroom door, skipping down the stairs with your heart pounding like crazy, ready to jump out of your chest. It wasn’t long before you could hear footsteps following you closely behind, which made you even more uneasy as you could tell he was desperate for answers.

“Hey, what the fuck is your problem?” Seonghwa grabs you by the arm, halting you in your escape before letting go with a piercing stare. “You can’t just beg me to fuck you like that and say, oh, ‘this was a mistake’.”

You could tell he was mocking you, but you really couldn’t blame him. The only person to blame here was you. You should’ve known better than to sleep with one of Yunho’s best mates, especially when you knew the boy had deep feelings for you.

“Because it is a mistake,” you grit, “we can’t tell Yunho what happened… it’ll break him.”

In all honesty, it would break you more than him. Guilt was a more deadlier disease than heartbreak, it was worse when it came down to friendships more than love itself.

“Wha-”

“Can’t tell me what?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you snap your attention to the familiar voice behind you, already feeling a pang in your chest as your eyes locked onto Yunho’s innocent ones. Seonghwa kept quiet as you tried to choke out a few words to Yunho, flickering his gaze back and forth between the two of you.

“Um, nothing! Nothing, we were just getting to know each other, that all,” you try your hardest to make your fake smile not obvious, but it clearly wasn’t working with Yunho’s confused gaze turning into a suspicious one.

“Getting to know each other huh?” Yunho poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, running his eyes up and down the two of you.

“Yeah.”

“I could tell,” an octave drop in Yunho’s voice sent you breathing harder as his facial features hardened, soft brown loving eyes turned into a cold glare. “You fucking bastard.”

Yunho’s attention wasn’t on you anymore, it was focused on the person standing behind you. Everything happened so quickly, next thing you know, Yunho was pinning Seonghwa up against the wall by his collar, faces close in proximity with jaws clenched and fists balled.

“You fucking knew,” Yunho snarled, “and yet you still fucked her. I thought you were my best friend, Hwa. What the fuck happened to that huh?”

“H-How?” could he smell Seonghwa’s cologne on you? What the heck.

“Your shirt is inside out.” 

Well, fuck. Not only did he catch you lying straight to his face but he caught his two best friends fucking each other, his best friend and someone who he had poured his heart and soul to.

“Yunho, please. I can ex-”

“You can explain? Yeah, alright go ahead, let’s hear what you have to say and if this motherfucker has anything else to add to it.”

“Yunho, get your hands off of me or we’re going to have a problem,” Seonghwa tries his best to pry Yunho’s grip from his collar, standing on his toes as he faces his deadly glare.

“We already have a problem, Hwa,” Seonghwa drops down with a thud as Yunho finally lets him go, throwing his glare back onto you. “Go ahead, say what you have to say.” 

“I-I… we just… we were desperate, Yunho,” it wasn’t the best and most plausible excuse but it was honestly it.

“Desperate. Out of all people, you choose him? Are you serious? I don’t know if you got my hints, but fuck!”

“Yunho, I am so so sorry. Please, just-” 

“God, I hate being in love with you!” 

It was at that moment, you could see your world crumbling down as Yunho bites back a quiver. His eyes glossy and starting to frame with red as Seonghwa also couldn’t help but wear a remorseful face.

“Hey-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, Hwa,” Yunho aggressively brushed off Seonghwa’s hand on his shoulder, throwing him a side glare as he lowers his head. “Go home.”

“Woah, what is going on?” all three of your heads snapped up to a red flushed, drunk Mingi with a half empty bottle of soju in his hands stopping mid way with a questioning look on his face. Soon enough, the whole group of boys were here, standing behind Mingi with a replicated confused face.

“Everyone, go home. I’m not feeling good tonight,” Yunho pushed through the group of boys, passing to the kitchen where he grabbed a new cold bottle of soju from his fridge.

“Man, you sure? Want us to stay just in case?” Jongho spoke, brows raised as he was concerned for his gloomy looking friend.

“Mingi can stay, I don’t trust him alone at home while he’s drunk. Everyone else go home, please.”

“Yun-”

“I said leave,” you could barely even choke out his name before getting cut off again, guilt slowly but painfully chewing away at bits of your soul.

“Alright, you heard the man. Leave him be,” Yeosang took the liberty to usher everyone out with swaying arm movements, clueless of what had unfolded before everyone had walked in.

Mingi smiled brightly, waving his goodbyes and yelling his goodbyes as he joined a slouched Yunho in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but plaster a fake grin to fuel his happy hour before leaving out the door, embraced by the cold once more. But this time, you weren’t just cold on the outside, you could feel it inside of you. As if you had just turned yourself into a cold-blooded killer.

Murdering whatever trust and happiness Yunho had left in that big body of his.

Like everyone else in the entire world, you had to live with what you got, what you’ve done, what you can’t take back.

-

Copyright © 2020 by serendipityunho

    All Rights Reserved

[singing-till-the-end]

lonely nights

pairing: childe x lumine (chilumi)(genshin impact)

word count: 1319

in which lumine spends the lantern rite alone and childe comes to join her

It was a lonely night.

The city below her was filled with jubilant laughter and endless celebration, yet —

It was a lonely night.

It had been months, months, since Lumine had started her travels in Teyvat (in addition to the god-knows how long she spent in slumber), and still she was no closer than before in finding her brother. What if he was alone? What if he was in danger? What if...he’s dead?

She quickly shook her head, cursing her head for coming up with such absurd thoughts. Thinking like this wouldn’t help her; time wondering about what-ifs was time wasted.

But she couldn’t help but worry. Aether was all she had; it had always been just the two of them, jumping from world to world. Sometimes she allowed herself the fantasy of having parents who were out there somewhere, desperately awaiting for their return. But it was just that: a fantasy. And reality spent no effort humoring her.

She didn’t know what she would do if she never found him. Sure, Lumine always put up a confident front, but when she was alone, these awful thoughts always came back to plague her mind. Before, whenever there was ever some sort of trouble, she had always confided in Aether. Paimon was a more-than-competent traveling companion, but she wasn’t Aether; no one was Aether.

Looking up at the sky, its inky blackness glittering with bright stars, Lumine was reminded yet again of how they had once flown across those very stars. What she wouldn’t give in order to go back to those simpler times, where the only worries they had were finding a pleasant world to settle down in.

Under the darkness of the night, the traveler allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. Just a few minutes with a few tears, then she would be back to the festival. That’s what she had in mind, at least; she should have realized at this point that not everything went according to her plans. Actually, most things didn’t.

What was supposed to be a few drops of tears soon turned into a cascade of emotions. She buried her face in her knees and wept, wept for Aether and herself and the unfairness of this all. She hated this, resented this so much. She was so sick and tired of feeling powerless every night when the nightmares came to haunt her, of being forced to relive her brother’s horror-struck face and that outstretched hand, desperately grasping for something, yet meeting nothing but air.

Sometimes, she would wonder to herself if she could even save Aether even if she found him. If the two of them combined hadn’t been enough to defeat the Unknown God with the entirety of their powers, then how would she alone take down this damned deity?

It’s a never-ending loop of despair and regret, one which Lumine can’t ever seem to find the exit. Yet there’s still hope, buried somewhere deep inside, that drives her forward. It’s the promise that everything will be okay after this was all over.

Hope, she bitterly chuckled, is a dangerous thing.

The still silence surrounding her was effectively ended with the arrival of sudden footsteps that were most definitely heading toward her. Lumine instantly tensed, slowly turning around, readying her hand to summon her sword at a moment’s notice.

The enemy would have the cover of the dark while she was exposed in the open, but she would defeat it, like she did for all her other challenges. For all she had was herself, because no one would be there, defending her, not anymore; if she couldn’t even fend for herself —

She paused. Standing in front of her was none other than Childe, gazing at her with an uncharacteristically soft look in his otherwise dull eyes.

Lumine whirled around, suddenly aware of the tears still staining her face.

Yes, she and Childe were...friends, but he was a Harbinger first and foremost, someone who could and would betray her in a heartbeat if need be, just like what happened at the Golden House. In the end, he would only be an enemy, an obstacle in her path, and Lumine wasn’t exactly keen to show a foe how vulnerable and weak she really was.

Anything and everything could be used against me, she reminded herself, wiping away the tears.

Her walls were ready to emerge again, both protecting and isolating herself from the world. As much as it was painful, she knew better than anyone else just how necessary they were.

But in that moment, when Childe sets his coat upon her shoulders and lightly scolds her for being out here when it’s so cold, her walls crumble away to nothing but dust. It’s a little funny, really, how easily they manage to collapse compared to how desperate Lumine has been to keep them up. She was the one to blame, of course; it was her heart that fluttered and it was she who secretly welcomed the sensation.

Taking a seat on the ground beside her, Childe asked, “What are you doing here, ojou-chan? They’re releasing the Mingxiao Lantern tonight down in the harbor, you know.”

“I could say the same for you,” she replied, grimacing briefly when her voice cracked. Maybe he noticed, maybe he didn’t, but she was grateful all the same when he didn’t mention anything about it.

He smiled. “Couldn’t let my favorite traveler spend the night out here all by herself, now could I?”

Lumine found herself staring a little. Childe’s smiles were usually wide and mirthful yet painfully empty, just cheerful enough to fool the next person, but not Lumine; she doesn’t know when it started, but she found herself being able to differentiate between his fake and genuine smiles with relative ease. Even with all the time she’s been spending with the man lately, a genuine smile was incredibly rare. It was the type of smile that exuded warmth, one where his eyes shone with a light that made him look alive. The type of smile that she silently vowed to protect. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Ojou-chan, if you keep staring at me like that, I might be convinced you’ve fallen for me,” Childe lightly teased.

As a blush slowly crept onto her cheeks, Lumine hastily turned away, clearing her throat. Attempting to change the subject, she said, “Did you release a Xiao Lantern yet?”

It worked, thankfully. “No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t know how to make the lanterns, and I don’t think anyone down in the harbor would be exactly thrilled to teach me, seeing I did almost destroy their entire city.” He laughed it off, nonchalant about the whole situation. The traveler just rolled her eyes, feeling exasperated, yet fond all the same.

When had she become so relaxed around Childe? She tried to remind herself to stay more wary, but as she laughed and joked around with him, the warnings inside her head disappeared without a trace. It was stupid, so awfully stupid, to want to trust someone who, in the end, would only end up hurting her, yet with Childe, all sense of reason was thrown away in the wind.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Perhaps she was a little greedy, Lumine thought, cradling her lantern delicately, but it was fine.

Beside her, Childe held his own lantern, messily built but still viable. “What did you write?”

“Something a little ambitious. The gods out there probably won’t be able to grant it, but then again, even if they could, where’s the fun in that?” She smiled. “I’ll just make it happen myself.”

He laughed. A genuine laugh.

“Sounds just like you, ojou-chan. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

They released the lanterns together, watching as they slowly rose, illuminating the night.

Perhaps it wasn’t so lonely, after all.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

I wish to find my brother.

I wish to stay with Childe.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Plot? We have no plot.

Sort of just wrote this on a whim. Would have loved to publish it on the last day of the Lantern Rite in-game, but alas, my writing skills said no <3

yeah I also sort of gave up near the end

[lilhemmo]

can i get a geeta w/ the prompts #32 #12 #8 ??? i think it'll be really interesting to see what you do! love your geeta!

a/n: thank you so much for your request! i hope you enjoy it! 

prompts:32: “Keep your eyes on me.”12: “Don’t come near me or I swear I’ll kill you.”8: “Go to hell.”

here is the request list

Your knuckles are split wide open, your mouth trickling with the taste of iron. You shake your head, sweat pouring down your back, and you know that you look pathetic as you hold back tears. 

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else,” you manage, wiping your gloved hand against your bleeding mouth. You snarl at him, the one man you never thought you’d fight again - Vegeta. 

He smirks, tongue protruding just between the cupid’s bow of his lips, “Oh you putrid earthling, stop kidding yourself,” he lunges forward in midair, his hand clutching your throat, “As if you ever had a chance.”

There is one item left in your arsenal, something you watched the very man in front of you use to defeat the Majin Buu from years ago. Every fiber of your being screams at you as you begin to build up your energy, starting in your core. Your muscles feel like they’re tearing and you can’t keep the tears from your eyes as the ki swirls like a vortex in your soul.

A feral scream splits your lips and you tilt your head back, resisting the hold of his palm as you do so. You finally feel yourself charged up, every blood vessel in your body crying for relief. Your body can’t handle the stress much longer before it will be torn apart - and you know you’ll never recover. You will go to Other World and fight for your right to keep your body. You haven’t been a saint, but you hope you’ve done enough good to keep the one thing that reminds you of your time on earth.

“Oh, Prince, do me a favor, why don’t you?” your lower lip wobbles but you feel the steel in your gaze as your bright white ki energy swallows your pupils whole, “Go to hell.”

At that moment, you release your energy in a flash of light, that same bloodcurdling screech you hear in your nightmares echoing in your own ears as it tears your throat to shreds. The last thing you see before your body gives out from the stress and pain alone is Vegeta’s cold, dark eyes mirroring the look of betrayal in your own.

-

You did not expect to wake up in a hospital in Other World. You figured that when you were transported to the next plane of existence, your spirit would float down the line and wait to see King Yemma and his book of souls.

Your tongue is like sandpaper in your throat and your eyes are practically glued shut, but you manage to open them eventually. You sit up and suddenly a beeping sound begins to resound in your ears. The piercing noise hurts down to your spine and you try to plug your ears, standing to your feet as you try to get away from it.

Your body seems to be relying on its most primal instincts - you’re scared, so you run away. You push through the hall full of people, completely unaware of your appearance - hospital gown split down the back, the unclasped corners of the coat billowing in the wind you are creating as you rush through the hallways.

There are wires and plugs attached to you and you can vaguely hear someone who seems like a doctor calling out for you, but the ringing won’t stop and you can’t make out much of anything other than what’s five feet in front of you. The edges of your vision is blurred, and no matter how many times you shake your head, you can’t get it to clear.

A familiar pair of vocals calls you out of your rampage and you bare your fangs, the Saiyan in you bristling at the enemy you felled before you fell yourself.

Every muscle in your body tenses, but the Prince is walking ever so carefully towards you, as if you were a wild animal foaming at the mouth. 

“Don’t come near me,” you warn, holding your hands up in your standard fighting position. "Or I swear I’ll kill you!”

You’ve never seen Vegeta wince before, and it does something to your heart. You find yourself blinking hard to be sure he’s real - he must be, because you killed him back on earth. It’s strange that he has his body, though. He was always telling you how he’d done such horrible things that he’d go straight to hell. You suppose he didn’t take your final words literally, considering he’s stood in front of you.

“Hey,” he sounds almost tender and you swear you must be in some alternate dimension. Vegeta tilts his head and approaches you slowly, his hands facing you, palms up. It’s unlike the Prince of Saiyans to show himself as vulnerable, and you’re becoming more confused as the seconds pass.

You’re blinking hard now, your vision sparking. You see stars and you can’t blink enough to try and clear the path in front of you. A primal shout echoes in your throat and you grip your hands in your hair, crouching slightly at the knees.

Vegeta is closer to you now and you want to rip into him with your teeth, tearing him to shreds for what he did to you. You feel tears water in your eyes and it takes away even more of your vision. 

“Look at me,” his voice is rough and he’s now just in front of you.

You grind your teeth together and shake your head, hands pulling at your hair follicles until your scalp burns. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you swear it’s going to burst forth from the cage of your lungs.

Vegeta’s hand is on your shoulder, “Look. At. Me.”

Your eyes snap upward and the small pinpoints you can see allow you to look him directly in the irises. Something is different about him, something you can’t quite make out. He seems almost back to the way he was before you had to fight him to the death.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Vegeta is calm and quiet and his hands frame your neck. “You look like you’re about to transform.”

You shake your head, “Wh-What the hell. Why are you here and not trying to murder me? Just because we’re in Other World does not mean you get to touch me like this.”

Vegeta’s brows knit together and he tilts his head, “Other World? Silly woman, what do you mean?”

“I died and I killed you!” You grunt, a striking pain shooting up your spine to settle in the base of your skull. “Wh-Why are you being like this?”

The Saiyan Prince licks his lips and tries not to laugh at you for fear of you striking him across the face, “You’re not dead. You’re in a hospital. You killed my dopple-ganger, one created by an intergalactic deity. I was on another planet when you unleashed your energy.”

Your eyes go wide and you stumble forward onto your knees, hands gripping at his armor as the tears flow freely, “Y-You’re...this is real?”

Vegeta chuckles as he shakes his head, wrapping you up in his arms and effectively closing the gap created by the split in your hospital gown. His mouth is against your temple when he speaks next, “Kakarot told me you’d sacrificed yourself to save the planet. How noble.”

You sniffle and dig your nails into what skin you can reach at the base of his back, fingers clutching onto him like you might lose him all over again. You gasp out a breath, “I-I thought you’d turned. I...I had to kill you.”

“I know,” his voice reverberates against you as he speaks. “I’m so proud of you.”

Humans don’t understand Saiyans - your insatiable desire for pride and power, the way you speak to one another, and how the tail at the base of your back flickers to find another.

That’s why you know none of the human fighters would understand the weight of the words Vegeta has just spoken to you; how they settle on your shoulders and lift your spirit. Your voice breaks, “I almost c-couldn’t.”

Vegeta tugs you back to look you in the eyes, “Don’t tell the others, but I don’t know if I could’ve killed you either.”

Your eyes widen and your tail wraps around his waist, holding him close as you yank him forward to kiss him directly on the mouth. Your arms rest against his neck and you toy with his hair, feeling as his scalp pulsates with the threat of super energy.

“Was the hardest thing I had to do,” you murmur against his lips, the gentle prodding of his tongue making your stomach do flips. “I-I don’t know if I could live without y-”

Vegeta’s mouth bruises yours as he cuts you off, unwilling to let you finish your sentence. He shakes his head, “Don’t go there.”

You swallow and your lower lip wobbles but you clutch onto your Saiyan pride and tense your muscles, pushing the doubts away and replacing them with the desire to grow stronger, more powerful. Your body is throbbing with the desire to flex your fists, the inability for your Saiyan body to sit still making your toes curl.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this before,” Vegeta helps you stand to your feet, “but I think you need to take it easy for a while.”

You push yourself up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, “You just don’t want to get your ass kicked.”

The blush that burns into his cheeks does not go unnoticed, “I wouldn’t be so attracted to you if you were a weakling. Take it as a compliment.”

And you do show him your strength later, both on and off the training grounds.

[magaprima]

Okay, so my Lilith specific opinions about Part 3. 

Firstly, I have to say I was really worried they were just going to make her the out and out villain, and then have Sabrina stop her, so the fact Lilith, even with her crown gone and being treated terribly by both writing and the characters (via said writing), was still mostly on the ‘right’ side and spent the entire season allied with Sabrina, rather than against her, had been relieved and happy enough with the season. It gave me something to work with rather than something to dismiss entirely.

HOWEVER, this reprieve from being made the villain is not all good. They decided to make her the victim instead. In the way she was in the beginning in Part 1. Essentially undoing all of the character progress and narrative development in Part 2. Sigh.

The fact they only allowed Lilith to have the crown for one singular episode, and the fact that while she had the crown she seemed to be totally willing to kill Sabrina and her chums until she realised she needed them, was basically the writers establishing she’s not meant to be Queen, she’s not a good fit. Which is totally unfair, since even with in the writers’ biased writing, there is not a single person more qualified, more capable and more suited to the role of Queen than Lilith. 

However, I know a lot of Christian based mythology fiction have the rule that only celestials can be monarchs of a realm, so only an angel can rule hell, or someone with angel’s blood, like Sabrina. So, for the sake of mythology I will accept that and I do like that Lucifer freely says ‘They will never accept Lilith as Queen, no matter what you say or do’ because the court were biased against the idea of a non-celestial ruling. Lilith was created human, mortal, not even a witch originally, and she has no celestial blood. But that’s not the arguments the demon hordes use, they simply say she isn’t fit because she’s a concubine, she was ‘Lucifer’s whore’. This really pisses me off, but not from a writing perspective, because I feel this is an accurate way men condemn women; they use their sex lifes to decide whether they’re worthy or not, and we’re seeing it’s no different in hell. It just pissed me off because I hate those freaking plague Kings and I would like to see them roasting on a spit while being made to listen to the Baxter High Cheerleaders doing those terrible dance routines over and over again. 

So all this mythology, and Lilith acting as Regent (and, presumably, eventual adviser a la Sebastian for want of a better reference) was a scenario I was willing to accept. If a Morningstar has to rule and Lilith physically can’t due to stupid Celestial Laws, then her being right-hand to a female Morningstar, and one that respects her and doesn’t abuse her, along with Lilith getting to have a maternal role and realising being that way does not mean weakness, was something I would have enjoyed seeing developed and grow into something really interesting and meaningful.

Only it didn’t. Instead, Sabrina, doesn’t even tell Lilith that the Dark Lord has escaped, completely disregarding the safety of Lilith’s life, and sort of showing she has a tendency to be as dismissive as Lucifer about Lilith’s well-being, and then, despite Lilith trying her best to make Sabrina the best possible Queen, and even accepting her role as second-in-command (because, hey, at least it isn’t feet kissing handmaiden), Sabrina never listens and things go more and more wrong until the Dark Lord is free and sending Lilith threats by reminding her of torturous things he’s done to her in the past, such as killing Adam 2.0 and making her eat him. Seeing Lilith crumble with fear under this was heartbreaking, not because it made her weak, far from it, but because Lilith had come so far and the writers were shoving her right back to where she started, as if she never made the journey at all. 

They then have her being rejected by Zelda, which made no sense for Zelda’s character whatsoever. Zelda, who has always been about protecting witches, protecting their kind, who has always rallied to the idea of being stronger together, who knows everything Lilith has done for Sabrina, knows she helped trap the Dark Lord, who knows how powerful Lilith is and that she could sincerely help with the Pagans, and who has actively prayed to Lilith and even considered naming the church after her, and has always been respectful towards those above her in the hierarchy, especially deities, is suddenly being utterly disrespectful and dismissive of Lilith and refusing to offer her asylum. Zelda literally says ‘what good did that do us’ when Lilith reminds her that she worshipped her, but the Dark Lord never did Zelda any good either. So the Dark Lord didn’t have to prove himself, but Lilith does? Zelda spent all of Part 1 talking about how it is an honour to be visited by the Dark Lord, but it’s not an honour to be visited by Lilith? And even though we help witches and fellow women, Lilith isn’t allowed that? The writers have her condemned by everyone and always left alone and unsupported and I don’t understand why?

And then even Mary throws her to the wolves (because they decided Mary would be hyper religious and easily swayed by Lucifer’s whispers into becoming a witch-hating nut. But the destruction of that character is another matter)

And then we have Lilith being dragged by her hair by the Dark Lord, forced to bathe him, and then in order to save herself from being killed by him, she has to make herself ‘worthy’ of keeping alive, and the only way of being worthy is to be carrying his child (because that’s all a woman is worth) and she has to sleep with a man she hates, while possessed by the man who abuses her, in order to get pregnant. Now, my issue is not with the message here, I think this is a sad reflection of the world, of where a woman’s worth is, and I do think it is something Lilith would do, because she has said repeatedly that self-preservation is the most important thing and she has an attitude of survival at all costs, so this is in character for CAOS’ Lilith, definitely. BUT my issue lies in the writers putting her back in a situation where she had to do all this to survive. Why are we returning to the same old dynamics and Lilith having to pull the same old tricks? Wouldn’t it have been more interesting for Lilith to use Lucifer’s dependency on her to free him to her advantage? What if his time trapped weakened him but Lilith’s time as Queen and Regent strengthed her, so there was at least an equal footing. We could have had an actual telekinetic mini fight proving Lilith is not able to be crushed so easily anymore. Or, if we don’t want Lilith to be as powerful as Sabrina (because hell forbid anyone is more powerful than our hero despite being much, much older and having magic much longer), why couldn’t we have Sabrina arriving and defending Lilith and warning Lucifer that if he harms Lilith she’ll trap him all over again. Or something to that effect. Lilith being defended by a woman, a return of loyalties, having someone actually care about her, would have been a way to have Lilith still in a place of strength, still progressing, but with the writers still getting to keep there ‘Lilith is victimised and Sabrina is a hero’ habit. 

Like, I get the habits of the writers and I know what to expect from this show, and I will admit, I still enjoyed it, despite it’s many issues, but there seems to be so many easier and more satisfying ways for them to get the same results they wanted? 

Instead, at the end of Part 3, Lilith is almost exactly where she was in Part 1, under constant threat of Lucifer. The only positive change is due to the trials, Sabrina (well Sabrina 2) is ruler of Hell, not Lucifer, so Lilith has some degree of protection, and the speech Lilith gave to Sabrina, giving her all this advice, making sure Sabrina never makes the same mistakes she did, that she never gets trapped under a man as she did etc, is one of the best things to come out of the finale. Because it’s still women supporting women, and more importantly it’s showing they don’t intend Lilith to betray Sabrina or hate her, there is female solidarity here, and that is the one silver lining. 

Now, the pregnancy, while I hate how it came about and the reasons Lilith had to do it, as I’ve mentioned above, the storyline itself intrigues me. For one, Lilith is Mother of Demons, and we’ve seen her fulfil slightly maternal roles towards Sabrina, but we actually haven’t seen her in official Mother capacity despite her title, so it will be interesting to see what this means, but I fear they might use the pregnancy to make Lilith ‘soft’ and victimise more. 

Also there was a story I read once, a folk fairytale I think it was, that talked about a Daughter of Lilith, and basically it was some kickass ‘evil’ (because well the stories always portray Lilith that way, annoyingly) mirror version of the Daughter of Eve spiel. And even thought Lilith claimed it was a son, because she deliberately and knowingly played off Lucifer’s misogyny and his obvious desire for a male heir, it could turn out to be a girl. Also it’s Sabrina’s half-sibling, which means she and Lilith are now official tied as family which is also a nice silver lining. 

In conclusion, I feel Lilith was sincerely betrayed and abused by the narrative, but her character stayed true to herself for the most part at least, so I feel that’s a definite bright side, especially considering what happened with other characters. But I’m not making any final conclusion about storylines or narrative direction until Part 4. Because these writers sometimes make bad choices to very wrong journeys that end in great conclusions (i.e season 1 at the beginning was all ‘Lilith kisses the hooves of the Dark Lord and so weak for him’’ to ‘actual she’s going through shit and she’s going to fight back and take a crown’ at the end) so let’s see what the 2nd part of Season 2 brings. 

[the-endless-storm]

Nuzlocke Shield Part Four

Part Three

An we are off again. Three zones to go through to get to Hammerlocke, let's see what we get.

Stony Wilderness it is snowing, and we get Sneasel, which is a dupe so let's try for a second one. It's a Chubcoo.

Oreo - Chubcoo (m) Slush Rush Sassy (SDf up / Spd down) “It scatters things often!”

Giant's Cap is sunny (thank god) and we get Lombre! Wasn’t expecting this.

Pina Colada - Lombre (m) Rain Dish Docile (no change) “It's impetuous and silly!”

Lastly Hammerlocke Hills is raining and we get Pelipper. Meh.

Febreeze - Peilipper (f) Drizzle Modest (SAk up / Atk down) “It's very finicky!” Rainy Mark

This is the first Pokemon I’ve caught that had a mark on it, but it's not enough to warrant putting Pelipper on my team.

I see Bede and the Chairman in the middle of Hammerlocke, but let's do some exploring before story time. First up, a house with a Blakckbelt and a level 2 Cottonee. Um ok.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I forgot about Endevour. It left Snapper with 1 HP! That could have been a disaster!

I’m wary about going into the Battle Cafe. I know they're double battles against fairy types, and the only effective move I have at the moment is Acid on a baby Pokemon. So I’ll give that a miss for the moment, maybe come back when Toxel has evolved and I have some Steel moves somewhere.

Mmm, Chairman Rose knows exactly what he's doing walking around the city in those shorts. There's a guy outside the far left Pokemon Centre, trying to meet someone. Maybe if Chairman Rose spent more time on Grindr he wouldn’t want to resurrect ancient deities.

I wish we had a chance to explore more of the castle part of Hammerlocke. There are loads of paths and stairwells with gates on them that look like they should open up.

Anyway, let’s see what Route 6 has on offer, thankfully not another damn Ice type.

Oh wait, Team Yell first.

Yay, Jett is evolving into Toxtricity Amped Form!

Ah! Bullseye is evolving in Mudsdale too! Awesome sauce.

Ok finally back to Route 6 and our encounter is a Heatmor! Interesting, I have genuinely never used this Pokemon before.

Otis - Heatmor (m) Flash Fire Modest (SAk up / Atk down) “It takes plenty of siestas!” Rowdy Mark

I think I’m going to swap out Carcoal for Heatmor. It has better stats and isn’t four times weak to Water and Ground. There's a TM for Fire Spin in the Hammerlocke shop too, and whilst it's not the greatest attack it should cover Heatmor until it learns something else.

While I’m back here, I’ll check the Move Relearner for my newly evolved Pokemon too. Heatmor can relearn Incinerate, so Fire Spin isn't needed now. If money weren’t so easy to come by I might be upset about spending 10k.

Get to the end of Route 6 and the dumb fuck trainer has his Koffing use Self Destruct, good thing I swapped Otis out for Snapper otherwise that could have been a short career again.

I like Stow-on-Side, it's good a good look to it. No encounters here though, so I'll head up to the mushroom forest bit and see if I can catch a Psychic, Ghost or Dark type and not another useless bird or something.

Dammit Hop leave me alone.

Dammit Opal leave me alone.

Dammit Team Yell leave me alone. Can’t do anything I want these days.

Fine, Glimwood Tangle is out of the question until I beat Allister. Going to go train a bit.

Got everyone up to 35-36 and raided a few dens to get some TRs that really didn’t help a great deal with moves. A lot of my team have totally the wrong natures, boosting Attack when Special Attack would be better and vice versa (Toxtricity being a prime example). But we'll see where we go.

Also Drumroll has evolved into a Rillaboom. This play through is notably the first time I have used one of the starters, as I generally dislike all three in this game.

Time to hit the Gym.

The trainers didn’t put up much of a fight, but I’m wary of GMax Gengar doing a lot of damage because I don’t have anything that resists Ghost attacks. I hope Drednaw will be fast enough to get off a Max Darkness and survive anything Gengar throws at her.

Not faster than Gengar, but Gengar used Max Ooze which Snapper resists, and the Max Darkness KO'd it.

Ghost Badge get!

Dammit Bede leave me alone

If Rose disqualifies Bede in the name of keeping things fair, shouldn’t help also disqualify Marnie (or at least issue a warning) as a result of her supporters actively attempting to sabotage other gym challengers?

Dammit Sinistea leave me alo... oh no never mind. Sinistea you can stay :)

Chamomile - Sinistea (g) Weak Armour Gentle (SDf up / Dfc down) “It likes to fight!” Vigor Mark

Goodbye Machoke, Sinistea is on the team. I'll use the Cracked Pot I have to immediately evolve it into Polteageist, and as always check back with the Move Relearner.

I'm half way through the Gym Challenge. I have two zones left to explore in the Wild Area (Dusty Bowl and Giant's Mirror) not counting the two I need to cross water to reach. I’m in no immediate need for new Pokemon right now, so I’ll see what the weather is like on them going forward and visit when it's not snowing or raining.

I love Ballonlea, it's such an amazing looking town. This is the best looking location in the entire game, it's like all the design budget went here instead of being shared out elsewhere.

Got some eviolite, useless atm but you never know if I might need it in the future.

Let’s take on Opal and get that out of the way.

A trainer's Morgrem almost knocked out Chamomile with an attack, but luckily I was faster and able to take it down first. Close though.

Bullseye makes quick work of both Weezing and Mawile, and Opal's stat boosts certainly don’t go amiss. I was intending to use Jett here, but with Bullseye's Stamina boosting its defence, plus a speed and special defence boost from Opal she might not be needed.

It took three Max Steelspike's but Alcreamie fell to Bullseye. Opal only asked two of her three questions.

Fairy Badge get!

Back to Hammerlocke and Chairman Rose's Grindr hook-up is still waiting at the Pokecentre. I think now that I’m back I’ll do the Battle Cafe I skipped last time.

Oh fuck yeah, they're level 37 each. If I’d tried this back when I thought about it I would have been under level 30 and it would have been game over for me.

What a crap prize. An item that restores 20HP. Wowee.

Eww Bede is here again. Gross.

Let's do the two spots in the Wild Area now to get them done and out of the way before I head to Circhester.

Giant's Mirror gets me a Roselia. Not great tbh. Oops, knocked it out. Oh well.

Dusty Bowl gets me a Dubwool. A Dubwool!? Of all the Pokemon in the Wild Area I get the big goat!? Ffs.

Babs - Dubwool (f) Fluffy Relaxed (Dfc up / Spd down) “It's capable of taking hits!”

Back to Hammerlocke, past Sonia and the pointless bit of storyline that has no impact. Though it is refreshing to hear characters say “this isn’t for kids to worry about” instead of the fate of the universe resting firmly on your shoulders while the elite trainers sit and watch as is the norm in most Pokemon games.

God do I have to fight Hop AGAIN!?

“The way you battle, it kind of reminds me of Lee” you mean, well using proper strategy and skill instead that'a expected of someone aiming to be the champion, Mr “ive studied all my brother's battles, now wooloo use tackle on the steel type”?

“Now have a taste of our true power!” Water attack against a grass type. Ok.

Route encounter is a Corviknight, so another dupe. Next one is a Shelmet. Ok, I like Shelmet, but being unable to evolve it makes it pretty useless.

Kiniggit is a bad name I can't enter. I assume it's because the French used it as an insult against King Arthur during his quest for the Holy Grail.

G'night - Shelmet (f) Shell Armour Naughty (Atk up / SDf down) “It takes plenty of siestas!”

Ok, that's enough for today, this has been a long one. No deaths though so that’s good. Might finally have some balance to the team.

Current Team Drumroll - Rillaboom (lv 40) Bullseye - Mudsdale (lv 41) Snapper - Drednaw (lv 40) Otis - Heatmor (lv 40) Chamomile - Polteageist (lv 40) Jett - Toxtricity (lv 41)

Boxed Joltik Slowpoke Charjabug Croagunk Oddish Snorunt Sizzlepede Sneasel Chubcoo Lombre Pelipper Carcoal Machoke Dubwool Shelmet

Losses Bandit the Nickit - Knocked out by a fat squirrel Gumball the Tympole - Devoured by a centipede with a moustache Castlevania the Rookidee - Torn apart by a cute mole HaagenDazs the Vanillite - Murdered in an act of revenge by a smelly frog

Wild Area Tracker Rolling Fields West Lake Axewell East Lake Axewell South Lake Miloch Dappled Grove Watchtower Ruins North Lake Miloch Giant’s Seat Motostoke Riverbank Bridge Field Stony Wilderness Giant's Cap Hammerlocke Hills Dusty Bowl Giant's Mirror

Part Five

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 66

Title & Song: Your Sins Will Find You out

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 6100+

Summary:  ****IF YOU WOULD BE OFFENDED BY BLASPHEMY WITH CHRISTIANITY AND/OR CATHOLICISM...DO NOT READ THIS.**** Because this is all about a former Catholic letting out her pent up rage for it and her father by fucking her Jewish boyfriend in a confessional and having a nasty mouth while he role plays as a priest. Alfie and Gen are naughty. Let us never forget that. Amen.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content: Vaginal and anal play. Dirty Talk. Sex in a confessional. Role Play as a Priest. So, blasphemous if you’re into that sort of thing. A giant fuck you to her Catholic upbringing and dad. FLUFF. Talk of marriage. They’re so twisted I adore them. 

**Chapter song is Your Sins Will Find You Out by Eli Paperboy Reed.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You meet him at the church, a large and old cathedral that apparently matched the importance of the man who had passed. You hadn't known him but knew he was a big deal in the jewelry quarter, and if he was important enough for Alfie to feel the need to be seen at the funeral you figured it was important enough to dress up for. 

Granted, it certainly felt correct to walking into a Catholic church in all black for the first time in over thirteen years. As was your intention, heads turn when you walk in and you feel a tingling sense of naughtiness pass over you. Perhaps it was that Catholic guilt that had been beaten into you over the years through corporal punishment. The wild years you'd spent beating that guilt away with the same actions that put it into in the first place come to mind, you slink about the stone and stained glass in the entryway, looking for Alfie.

You watch his face change when he sees you, and it does more for you than endless heads turning in any room could. Your dress, a high necked, long sleeved and floor-length black gown. Sheer coverage over a solid black bodice and skirt clung to your filled out feminine form, your jeweled handbag clutched in your grasp as you sauntered over towards him, his eyes looking over you as the men he's speaking to turn to see what's caused an uncharacteristic silence from Alfie.

You looked like an angel of death, walking into the room the way you did. Your hair plaited and pulled around to one side, a jeweled clasp containing the soft mass of it. Your earrings sparkled, catching the light from the stained glass windows in their multitude of colors. He clears his throat as you approach, outstretching his hand to place on your back in a subtle statement of possession. "'Ello darling," he says softly with a mutual nod as you stand like a statue by his side as he introduces you. "Gentlemen, this is my lovely Miss Genevieve Durand," he spoke smoothly, you loved the pride you could hear in it in its gruffness.  "This is Mr. Doyle, Mr. Callahan. Jewelers both and Doyle is an old school mate of mine." he elaborates as you extend your hand to eldest first.

"Mr. Callahan." you give a polite nod and curtsy to them both as they shake your hand, seemingly unsure of the boldness of the gesture from a woman, and possibly hesitant to touch something seemingly owned by Alfie. "Mr. Doyle. Lovely to meet you both."

"Miss." they both respond politely.

"Might I say your jewels are pristine, Miss Durand." Mr. Callahan says.

"You may." you give him a friendly smile to break the tension. "And thank you. I take great pride in them." you return your hands to your purse in front of you.

"Would you excuse us?" Alfie says, a hand lightly on your elbow to pull you towards the large, daunting wooden doors that led into the arched peaks of the cathedral.

"Something the matter?" you whisper, recognizing the acoustics of the room would be awe-inspiring.

"No, no," he says with a shake of his head. "Just wanted a moment with you before..." he gestures vaguely with his hand to the pulpit. "...all this begins." he huffs out. You walk leisurely past statues and towering examples of art in the room as you speak softly, moving among the attendees with polite nods. "I must say you look stunning." he expresses closely to your ear.

"Thank you darling." you bat your lashes at him. "You look handsome as always. Did you trim your beard?" you ask, refraining from running your fingers through it.

"I did, ever the observant one." he chuckles. "You look like the angel sent down to retrieve the man in question today from his final resting place. A portrait of the angel of dark and light, love." he muses.

"You speaking of beauty in such a macabre way will do things to me Alfie, you know this." you smirk at him.

"As it should. Perhaps if death had looked like this I wouldn't have fought so hard to stay alive during the wars, eh?" he gives a cheeky grin and the thrill of the discussion in such a morbid way was causing your face to blush. "You've been paintin' me as deities but if I were a painter, yeah? I'd be paintin' you exactly like 'is. Like a female Abaddon, dripping in all black, joining with the abyss. Oh, what fire and destruction you could bring, my love." he whispers. "Never full so the eyes of man are never satisfied." he recites and you blush deeper shades as those soft lips seduce you with their silver tongue accomplice.

"If you keep charming me in such a way we both very well may burst into flames in this church." you hold back a giggle that threatened to break the solemn silence of the dark atmosphere. "Trying to seduce me at a funeral. My word, Alfie." you playfully scold, a gentle smack to his chest. "Have my lurid curiosities started rubbing off on you?" you question.

"More interesting in rubbin' off on you, love." he says without making eye contact, an entirely casual delivery that makes you cover your mouth to stifle the laugh.

"Alfie Solomons." you hiss with wide eyes and pursed lips to hide your smile.

"Wot?" he grins and it charms you entirely.

"You should stop enabling me, who knows what'll happen if you keep talking like that."

"I know what'll happen." he nods and leans in close. "And it has been nearly two weeks since I've been with you and I have to say I welcome whatever that aberrant brain of yours can come up with." he gives you cocky nod of his head.

"Is that a challenge?" you ask with raised brows.

"It's whatever you want it to be love." he coos.

You sit through the lengthy service and behave, the smoke and costume bringing back flashes of your childhood. Alfie quirks his eyebrow at you when you recite the readings, you ignore him, you couldn't help that they'd been engraved into your psyche by cold and brutal nuns that would lash at your hands if you didn't recite them properly. Your hands started to ache just at the thought. This all led you back to your father and thinking about the man that had spoken to you fills you with a deep annoyance you try to keep from turning into red hot anger. But the lingering effects of Alfie's cheeky words stay with you, you can feel it every time you shift your thighs. It brings back an old and familiar feeling, that naughtiness you felt so often when you were younger that couldn't be contained. That want to rebel, to be bad and revel in it. You let your anger fuel it, planning what you might do to indulge in it. It'd been so long since you'd gotten up to some good old fashioned naughtiness, perhaps it was time to get back in touch with your sexually adventurous side again since you had a singular man to cater to your whims now. And he certainly seemed enthusiastic to do so.

Alfie can see the tension around your eyes, the way they looked out far past the priest who was speaking. He wasn't sure what the cause of it was, but when he reaches out to put his hand on your thigh your eyes flutter out of their trance and you take a deep breath and smile at him softly. You scoot closer, he puts his arm over your shoulders and your cross your legs towards him. You let your hand rest on his thigh to plant the seed in his head that you might do more. But you resist. You rest against him, your thumb moving back and forth slightly on occasion, leaving him wondering about your motive.

It is announced the cemetery that the man will be taken to and it is asked for everyone to clear out, with instructions given on who to follow to get there. As the front moves out first, once the procession gets back to you, you reach out and takes his arm gently to keep him close and before you reach the doors, you step to the side and grip his arm, he looks to you and moves out of the stream of people. You say nothing and neither does he, nodding and waiting as the others filed out. Soon the room was empty.

"You alright, love?" he whispers, leaning into your side.

You shake your head, but your eyes don't read as upset and he lets out a low groan before a mischievous smile comes across your lips. You wait until you hear the front doors close, peaking around the doorway to see only one person left, a very elderly woman who was  making her way up the stairs.

"Gen," he whispers, getting your attention. "What are you doin'?" he narrow his eyes at you.

"Having a little fun." you say turning and letting a purposely seductive smile comes across your face. You walk up to him, hands sliding under his coat. "You want to have some fun with me Alfie?" you ask, batting your lashes at him, raising your chin to meet his face.

"What ya got in mind?" a deep, masculine chuckle escapes him.

"I'm feeling rather naughty." you begin with a pout. "Rather lustful. Sinful really." you purr. "You want to play a bit of pretend with me? I've never fucked in a church and I find myself feeling a bit devilish in here..." you grin. "Father." you let out a deep giggle and your tongue peaks out from between your teeth.

"Ah, child." he nods, catching on immediately, but of course he would. "What can I help you with?" he takes your face into his hands, speaking low and slow to you.

"I need to make a confession," you say, pulling away and walking towards the confessional booth that lay in a secluded hallway in a wing off of the main, highly decorated cathedral. "Would you hear me out, Father?" you ask, opening the door to what would be his side of the wooden booth, your back arched and pressed against the door.

"That I would." he says with that deep velvet tone that touches you in your most intimate places.

You move to the other side of the booth and sit, hands in your lap, the space smaller than you remember, the lights filtering in from the tinted glass top, a suited red wash over the cubicle. "Forgive me Father. For I have sinned. It has been... thirteen years since my last confession." you let out a chuckle that is purely you and not part of the role-playing you were partaking in.

He slides open the barrier, the lattice separating the two of you. You can see his intimidating silhouette also bathed in red light. He leans back against the wall. Trying to recall everything he knew about Catholicism. “Please tell me of your sins." He begins with simply.

“I accuse myself of lust, Father.” Your voice quiet and breathy, making the hairs on his arms prickle up at attention. “You see... there is this man.” He feels the corner of his mouth pull back into a smile. “He does things to me. Makes me feels things. Gives me the most perverse thoughts. Sinful and adulterous things, Father.” You whisper.

"What thoughts, I must know the nature of your sins." you can tell by his low and breathy tone that you're having an effect on him.

"Sodomy," you whisper. "I want him everywhere, Father. All the time. In the most unnatural of ways." your words and low tone travel over his skin and make his cock twitch to attention. "I get so turned on thinking about him wasting the gift of life in my mouth just so I can taste him that I pleasure myself to the thought." you run your hands down your chest, stimulating your hard nipples, listening to his heavy breathing just a short distance away. “I know it is wrong, Father. I know I should stay away from a man that makes me lose control the way he does. But I cannot. I know he’s bad. Not only for my salvation but he is a criminal, Father as well. Bad for me because he inspires such lustful yearning. Bad for himself for what he does. And oh... does it makes me wet thinking of the evil he does.” you practically moan, hearing him shift next to you.

“Why would you associate with a man like this, child?” an almost dopey smile on his face, he grunts and move his hips to undo the button on his trousers.

“Because I like being bad.” You purr. “I like that he’s a criminal. A thief. A liar. A murderer. All these things are sins I must also ask for forgiveness for. But none as much as my sins of the flesh. I’ve never met a man like him. When he touches me it makes me so hot it’s as if his fingers were the licking flames of hell come up to devour us both in our sin. I find myself at worship of him instead of Christ." you bite your lip and start the pull your skirt up your thighs with a low hum.

“A man who inspires blasphemy is no man to be with.”  he groans, his hand moving under his clothes to rub at himself.

“But that is what makes it so delicious, Father. I am a filthy sinner and I’ve come to confess it. I love him and I love how he possesses me. He makes me his whore,  Father. And I must confess these sins because they consume me mind, body, and soul just as he has.”

“And you are looking to be cleansed of your sins?” his head rests back, eyes closed as his hand moves slowly up and down his hard cock.

“Yes, Father. Cleanse me of my lustful sins.” you whine, your hand rubbing yourself over your knickers.

“You know I have the power to absolve you. And your sins are grave, child.” he says through gritted teeth, the filthy words still floating around his lust hazed mind.

“They are Father. I feel I must be punished for them.” you hear him grunt and you slip your fingers under your pants, sliding them down your legs.

“You must repent. Then I will forgive you and you will be cleansed.” he smirks, his tongue flicking out over his open lips, hand unintentionally tighter now around himself.

“What must I do Father?” You play up, a wicked smile on your face as you spread the growing wetness up and down your soft slit.

“You must kneel.” he says in a demanding tone that makes you whimper

“To pray Father?” you ask innocently.

“To worship.” He states certainly and you shut your eyes with a heavy exhale. “You must come here, child. Your sins are so grave I must lay my hands on you to see the proof of your sin myself.” you let out a low growl of pleasure for the demand.

“Anything you say, Father.” You slip out of the booth, a quick look around to find no one around before you slowly back into his side of the confessional.

He sits with his cock out, hand loose and teasing around it. You turn and act surprised and he is smitten with by your acting once again.

“Father!” You say with an accusation, your lips and tongue moving slowly, eyes fixated on his hand, shaking his cock at you.

“You’ve told me of what a whore you can be. I want you to embrace it, purge it all here and now. Show me what a whore you are so I will know what punishment will serve you.”

You drop to your knees and take his cock out of his grasp. ”Will this grant me forgiveness?” you whisper licking your lips only a breath away from him, looking into his dark eyes, mouth set in a wicked smile.

“Only I have the power to make that decision.  And if you truly wish to be absolved, I will know through your actions." his eyes stare into yours as you ghost your lips across the underside of his cock. "So show me."

"What a whore I am for him?" you ask, lips moving back down his length.

"Yes." he nods and rests his hands at his sides, a challenging look on his face.

You close your eyes and stick out your tongue, a broad lick across his balls as his nostrils flare. You do as he asks, the thrill of the crude words, the power he was holding over you in this scenario all drove you forward. You take his balls into your mouth, humming as your lips suck at the soft flesh. You return your gaze to him, a long open-mouthed lap up his cock before taking him down and into your throat. He releases a noise that tells you you're doing well. He brushes a few fallen pieces of hair from your face, his hand waiting, resting lightly on your head. You keep quiet as best you can, knowing the door was latched, but that was all the protection you had against any intrusion. You bob on him deeply, lips gripping and tongue swirling, the wet sucking noises, and your gasping breaths as you popped off him the only sounds. The heat started to build in the small location, you could feel the sweat starting to form on your spine and between your legs as they were pushed together in the small space.

He grips you by your braid at the base of your head, pulling your head back and tapping his cock against your lips that were set in a wicked smile before extending out your tongue and panting for him. "If you want my forgiveness and my absolution, you must do what I ask of you." his tone was deep and dark, eyes giving you no reason to be drawn out of the fantasy.

"Am I not proving what a whore I am?" you ask with batting lashes, such a juxtaposition to how you were gagging on his cock just moments before. "Forgive me," you whisper, taking his hands and placing them on either side of your face. "Use me." you ask of him, "Fuck my face. I want you to." you say with pouted lips before your long lashes flutter shut, casting shadows as you take him down again, shaking your head once you reach the base of him.

"Fuck." you hear him groan out, trying to stay quiet. He grabs your head, fingers in your pulled back hair, as his hips begin to move himself in and out of your mouth, feet pushing hard into the floor as he picks up speed. You welcome it, keeping your lips taut and your throat relaxed, still sucking at him, breathing through your nose and making gagging noises as he ventured far into you. He stops as he feels the saliva follow a hard gag, lifting your head up to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

"Don't stop." you say with the tip of his cock in your mouth and he growls, you moan as he goes right back to it, swearing under his breath. He doesn't want to finish in your mouth, even if you'd confessed to loving it. He wants to give you something more, up close and personal to thank you for what was one of the more twisted fucks he'd ever had. He pulls you off of him again, this time one handed with a fist full of hair.

You look a mess and you know it, your eye makeup smudged with watery eyes, lipstick nowhere to be seen now except at the base of his cock. With spit strung from your mouth to his cock, hanging from your chin he swears at the sight. "You shouldn't swear, Father." you say through heavy panting and he gives your cheek a firm but not even stinging slap. "Am I being punished?" you ask with half lidded eyes and a smile that makes his balls tighten in its naughtiness.

"Not yet." he snarls out, moving you both in the small space. "Up." he says, hand still on your hair and pulling you to your feet. You both circle, switching spots in the booth as he reaches behind you to grab the chair he'd been sitting in after peaking outside to the body of the church to check for anyone being around. He knew with what he planned to do to you, that you wouldn't be keeping quiet on your own.

He shut and latches the heavy wooden door behind him with a daunting and echoing sound. He presses you against the back wall, the sturdiest and most quiet of the four offered to you. He presses himself against you, holding you tight by the chin. "Do you believe yourself to have repented enough, child?" he gruffs out, nose grazing your jaw as you hum in excitement as you lick your lips.

"I do not." you shake your head and give him the largest and most innocent eyes you can afford given the state you were in.

"And do you think you have shown me the extent of your lustful sins?"

"I do not." you answer the same.

"Then lift up the lovely dress." you gather it in your hands, fisting handfuls of black fabric to your hips. "Such a modest thing only a lady would wear. And you are no lady." He shakes his head and hums in a low register "I think your sins deserve more punishment." he grunts, yanking your leg up around his hip hard, a rough grasp on your thigh.

"Yes." you breathily whisper. "I still feel the lust controlling me." you purr.

"Is it? You're being awfully well contained." he whispers back, judgmental and scolding, the back of is hand running up your thigh to your hip.

"Then I will act upon it," you state clearly. "I'm aching for your cock. This little cunt is dripping for you, Alfie. I want your hands on me to be bruising, to show me how naughty I've been. To mark me as your property. I'm here to serve your lust and be shamed for mine, aren't I? Then treat me like some little strumpet. Use me. I'm your little whore, Alfie. Treat me as such." you whimper and whine, your lips ghosting against his. You reach down and stroke his cock, pushing the head against your soft wet folds.

His nostrils flare, a bull emerging with broad shoulders and punishing hands to wrap around your neck, giving it a squeeze as you play up trouble breathing. "I love that filthy mouth you have Genevieve. You dirty girl." he groans. "The things you make me want to do to you, love. Worth going to hell for." he rasps. "You make me more beast than man." he huffs air out of his nostrils and you feel the heat of it across your skin.

"Show me." you rasp out, beckoning him with wet, parted lips.

A sharp slap to your cheek surprises you. "You aren't the one making demands here," he whispers sharply. "You are here to receive me. Receive my forgiveness."

"Fill me with your love and light. Cleanse me with your forgiveness, please." you ask of him, lashed batting at him with innocence to the motion, but the way your tongue flicked across your lips show it to be anything but. "Free me." you whisper, rocking your hips against the head of his rock that had been teasing at your clit. "Show me what bliss your forgiveness grants."

"What a debauched creature you are." he moans, giving in to a harsh kiss. You feel him move fast, a sharp slap to your lips before grabbing your hips and pushing your front against the wall. You hear a brief rustling of your dress before you feel him hard and hot between your cheeks. He gives you a few stern slaps with his cock, a single run down your folds before pushing into you. He groans at the feeling, being able to sense how much you were enjoying this taboo romp as well, as he slid inside you with hardly any resistance.

Of course, you moan and it as always one of the most gorgeous sounds he'll ever hear but he slaps his hand over your mouth, the other hard on your hip, keeping them pulled away from the wall with your back arched as he pumped into you. "Gotta keep quiet, can't have the other's knowing of what a sinner you are, can we little lamb?" he hisses before a sharp slap to your arse. You let out little whimpers against his palm with each thrust, your tongue lapping at the hot skin. "Can't have one bad girl lead the rest of the flock astray can we?" he whispers before taking your earlobe between his lips, looming over you.

You murmur a response against his hand, but it doesn't matter now. He scolds you for making noise, grunting with every pound into you. He hits hard, only breaking to pull you apart, your mouth gaping open from the release, both his hands on your arse and wobbling it, watching himself move in and out of you, seeing himself slick with your wetness. "Oh fuck." you whisper, pressing your hand flat against the stable wall.

"No swearing from you, Genevieve. Naughty girl. Else I'll have to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours again." You respond with a noise of want, his fingers tighter now into the bouncing flesh of your lower half. Your tongue lolls out, the pressure building inside you, this angle always fulfilling you, especially with his adept hands and mouth to accompany it. "That what you want? Wash that hot, pink mouth out with my spunk, eh?"

"Want you to-oh, please come inside me." you whine and his eyes roll back in his head.

"That what she wants?" he lets out a devilish deep chuckle. "Full this little cunny up with me? Make your take all 'a me? Eh?" he spanks you hard and you tense and squeal, his mouth open and panting. "Leave you drippin' with it like the little whore you are for me, yeah? Gettin' fucked like this... by a man like me. You are fuckin' filthy and fuckin' love you for it." he rushes out, pushing his hips out. "Could watch me cock fuck you like this all fuckin' day love. Fuckin' perfect little flower innit ya? And this tight... little... arse of yours." He swipes his thumbs over the tensing hole and you shudder. "Fuckin' dirty girl." he whispers. He leans over you, teeth on your earlobe as he pants hot and heavy against your skin, his fingers pushing into your mouth to silence you, but you moan and starting sucking away and spanks you again. "You were askin' for it, Genny. What kinda woman would you be, eh? Gettin' buggered like this? Ought to just to teach ya a fuckin' lesson." his thumb presses against your arsehole again and your thighs shudder, moaning around his fingers again. "And you want it? Fuck me..." he rasps out, picking up speed and making you whimper, wet swollen lips around his fingers as he held your chin. Thumb circling, spreading your abundant wetness to allow his thumb to slide into you.

"Oh fuck." you moan out against his fingers.

"I 'eard that one, yeah?" he lets out a deep groan into your ear, you hear him huff into it, voice growing rougher. "All your holes filled little one." he taunts. "Showin' me what a whore you are for me... good fuckin' girl. Ya tight as fuck 'round me Genny, you gonna come, yeah?" he whispers, still hitting into you, as you hold yourself off the wall to receive as much of him as you could. "Come hard all over this cock, Gen, all fuckin' over it." he groans through gritted teeth. "You've got me so fuckin' hard, love, jesus christ." his voice cracks with the inflection. "Want you fuckin' drippin' down me fuckin' bollocks Genevieve. My lovely little whore innit ya? Just for me. A missus and a whore. Lucky. Fuckin'. Me." he snarls pressing his nose into your ear.

As it always did, his filthy mouth takes you where you need to go. He watches your eyes flutter and roll back, your hips buck, stuttering against his and it only fuels him to fuck into you harder. He wanted to have to muffle your screams, wanted to make you his by making you come so hard you cried out for him.

"Alfie." you murmur with his fingers in your mouth. He presses them farther in still.

"Don't you fuckin shout now. Else I'll have to gag you won't I?" he threatens and you moan. He thinks he hears a please to his threat and he growls, pressing his thumb in deeper, bending his knees to go as hard and fast as his body would let him.

If he didn't know your body, he would've thought something was wrong. You let your face push against the wall, drool running down his hand as he held your tongue, dripping down your chin, past those pinked lips as you made inhuman noises when he'd leave you with space to breathe. Your knees give, he presses you flat against the wall, still thrusting into you as you shake and convulse. He can feel your rings of muscle so tight around him he whines, feeling your cunt soaked for him, another wave of slick now running down his shaft and over his balls, making him throw his head back and grit his teeth to control himself. He feels your orgasm through every bit of you, your stomach spasms, thighs shivering, cunt seizing and your hands trembling against the wood they rested on. "Fuckin' 'ell Genny, yes, fuck, ya make me so fuckin' greedy for it love. Give me every last drop before I fill you back up." he pants out into your back before he can't hold back any longer. His hand moves from your mouth with a wet slick pop, a gasp from you as you bubble spit through your lips with clenched teeth to not cry out for him. He holds your hips roughly. A string on swears, you can make out "Gimme... ya... fuckin'... cunt." hissed out as he finishes inside you, a hard hit and grunt with each spasm.

You keep your noises minimal, your breathing the only loud thing in the confines of the wooden booth. Your eyes blink open with new clarity, the lust no longer blurring your vision. The red wash over your skin felt appropriate. As he came down, forehead pressing into your back, you feel him lose his tension against you, you can feel the small twitch of him inside you and you hum contently. You're hit with a moment of artistic inspiration. You envision bodies with a red wash over them, limbs against the dark grain of the wood, crosses between heavy breasts, the ends being sucked on by wet and swollen lips. Hands in prayer, pressed to bare breasts, a strong hand wrapped around the praying neck. It'd been a while since inspiration had struck you in such a way. Alfie interrupts your thoughts by clearing his throat.

"Ya okay love?" he asks, as considerate afterward as ever.

"Yes just, help me turn." you let out a huff of a laugh. He does, putting himself back into his trousers and straightening your skirt. He studies your face, licking his thumb, and wiping away the running mascara, using his handkerchief to finish the job and clear the drool from your chin.

"You look glorious in this light, Genevieve." he whispers, gentle fingers trailing down your jaw.

"You look so villainous and... beastly." you smile, tilting your head and pushing the stray strands of hair behind his ears, evening out his collar and vest. "But handsome all the same." you say with a pucker of your lips and he meets them without hesitation.

"You are a fuckin' wonder, my love." he whispers against them, now tending to your hair. "I'm the luckiest bastard alive. I know that for certain." he nods. "You are bloody brilliant. You look so fuckin'....absolutely sweet and then the things you do... oi vey Gen they're gonna kill me and I'll die with a fuckin' smile on me face." he chuckles and kisses you again.

"As long as it's me that kills you." you grin and stroke his beard. "No one else gets to kill you but me." you say with a playfully scolding tone and he lets out a deep rumbling, deeply content sound.

"No one but you, love. No one else but you." he exhales in a happy sigh.

"Because you are mine to do with as I please aren't you darling?'

"Fit to call me your whore instead." he gives a boyish chuckle.

"As long as we're only whores for each other." you nod and return the contented sound.

"Only for you." he kisses you softly. "If you feel absolved, I believe I can give a look out and see what trouble we're in." he laughs and nods his head to the door.

"Forgiven," you say with a nod. "Let's face it shall we?" you ask with a tilted head.

He opens the door and holds out his hand to you, getting a good look at each other to make sure you don't seem too disheveled. You take a deep breath and leave the confessional booth open so the smell of sex isn't so obvious. He walks quietly behind you and you stand by the pulpit, looking around and considering how you'd thought about marriage before. Within walls like these, under all that Catholic guilt you'd never wanted marriage. It was ownership to you, a cage and a sentence of servitude. But now, finding yourself, your heritage and religion all crossing paths to point you to the man in front of you, you felt so entirely the opposite about it.

"Ya alright love?" he asks, taking both your hands. "You gettin' the spirit?" he chuckles, looking up at the stained glass windows.

"I feel... yes... yes I believe I feel Christ's love." you nod and look up and he let's out a laugh.

"Well 'at's a problem for a Jew there innit?" he snorts, shaking his head at you.

"We'll just have to see how I feel after fucking in another religious place won't we?" you say with a smile.

"Genevieve..." he scolds. "I can't rightly agree to goin' at it in such a way at Temple." he scoffs.

"Not even for our Yichud?" you ask with a sparkle of innocence in your eyes and his heart melts at the mention of it.

"Ah!" he says, taking your face into his hands. "There is my sweet little Chanah again at last." he grins and kisses you softly. "Of course we will for our Yichud, my love." he hums against your lips. "But I wouldn't refer to such a thing as fuckin'." he shakes his head and you feel a flutter in your stomach for the sentiment.

"Do you plan on making love to your darling wife Alfie?" you coo, your hands on his wrists that held your face.

"I do. You will be my most precious jewel, little Chanah." he lets the romantic sentiments fall out of his mouth and into yours as he kisses you softly. It was fitting how you both felt soft after such perverse things, it opened you both up, let you feel things and inevitably it lead to romantic notions. A breaking down of one wall to push on through to another. It reflected your dual natures and he found it comforting in an odd way; knowing he had both a devil and an angel.

"Then what of the wedding night?" you ask playfully.

"I'll be so tired I'm guessing you'll be on ya own on that one." he lets out a loud laugh that you can't help but join him in. You watching his face laugh, and at his own joke nonetheless, corners of his eyes crinkled, his laugh lines deep as you smile warmly at him. Even if it did turn out that way, you didn't even mind. What a hopeless romantic you'd turned out to be.

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi   @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories   @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

[jinjikook]

peach blossoms (m)

❥ word count: 46k

❥ genre: fluff + smut + very minimal angst ; magic au + school au

❥ pairing: reader/jimin

❥ warning(s)/kink(s): tons of immature humor, teasing, dirty talk, riding, dom undertones, hickies, slightly rough sex, grinding, admissions of feelings, (honestly the sex is fairly vanilla, this is mostly fluff)

❥ summary: as your best friend tries to help you create a potion for a project, you end up making a mistake that changes jimin and you have to turn him back before anyone sees and fix things in time for your project presentation. the catch? feelings are stupid and annoying and they happen to mess with your head as you try and return jimin back to normal.

❥ a/n & music can be found here

masterlist

“And that class, is how to treat the poison from a Pheonix Dart Frog. Don’t forget to complete the rest of the worksheet, it’ll be due at the beginning of class tomorrow.” Your First Aid instructor mused before pointing her manicured finger in the direction of a lazily outstretched hand, a student laid back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk, robes dragging on the ground by his seat. “Yes?”

“Do we have to do the homework?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of nose and muttering something in her mother tongue, the murmur too low and intelligible for anyone to decipher but no doubt she was probably praying to some deity to give her strength and not beat this kid and lose her job.

“Yes Mr. Kim, the homework must be done otherwise you get an F, something you’re far too familiar with at this point, young man.” The whole class snickered at the pointed insult, the student slack-jawed at his teacher’s brazen words but he quickly shook the expression off his face, not wanting to melt the cool façade he had. He shrugged as if he didn’t care and pulled his robes back onto his shoulders, a mocking air of indifference around him.

Jimin—your good friend and his desk partner—gave him a little nudge and smile, his sunshine warm grin making the boy, Kim Taehyung, beam out in his usual goofy demeanor, insult long forgotten. Jimin had that effect on people, able to melt their troubles away with a single golden look. It was scary really, and on countless occasions you’d asked him if he’d been born from magical creatures instead; possibly a mix of an enchantress and siren, or maybe the work of some gods and mages. Regardless, Park Jimin was stunning in every way imaginable.

You’re beyond proud to call him your best friend. Even though he is an annoying little shit most of the time.

“No Jimin, you can’t come in with me. It’ll look weird.” You sighed as you shifted the textbooks in your arms to lay a little more comfortably in your hold, the inner part of your elbows sore from the sharp corners digging into them combined with the unsavory weight of the stack. You could easily use a levitation spell, save yourself the suffering, but this school frowned upon “reckless and recreational use of magic without purpose or reason”, it made things so much more difficult than they needed to be. Granted, it did save from nasty mistakes with rookie students, still unskilled and overconfident in their abilities in magic as they tried to look cool with their wands but ended up making too many messes for staff to clean up. But still, it sucked for senior students such as you and Jimin, already harboring enough knowledge that you should be allowed to work a little magic, if to at least ease the soreness in your limbs from carrying books for multiple classes a day, every day.

“I’ve come into your room before, what’s the big deal?” Jimin pouted and you had to turn to shove the ancient key into your shared room, knowing that if you kept looking at his puffed out lips and puppy dog eyes, you wouldn’t be able to resist. Your best friend knew your weaknesses a little too well for your liking.

“It’s nearly past dusk, not only will we probably be beat by one of the preppies that watch the halls but Yuju is probably inside studying right now and I wouldn’t want to bother her.” Yuju was your roommate at the Academy, unbelievably sweet and studious and far too beautiful for your heart to handle sometimes. She’d only ever been kind and considerate to you so why should you impede her night with an armful of Park Jimin? Sure, he was nice too but he knew how to annoy the hell out of you at times and you weren’t sure if Yuju would appreciate a boy being in your rooms, especially since she already felt like you two were a “thing”.

“Aw c’mon, she could watch,” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows, lecherous tongue sticking out in between his pretty white teeth. You pushed him away, his face getting too close for comfort as you turned to put your back up against your door, the lock already undone and the slightest push away from opening and letting you put down the hefty books you already spited.

“Watch what? You get rejected by me yet again? Go home Chim, you’re drunk.” The two of you shared a laugh and Jimin tried once more to flirt his way into your room.

“Only drunk on our love, though I’d prefer a taste of those lips.” His eyes dropped down to your mouth and you forcibly stifled a giggle, knowing Jimin was just being the ridiculously flirty, touchy friend you’ve grown to love and hate consequently.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast?” Jimin nodded and said his goodbyes, turning on heel to walk away and wave once more over his shoulder, passing by one of the aforementioned “preppies” and proceeding to mock him behind his back after getting out of his sight, leaving you to laugh in his direction at his silliness.

Once you shut the door behind you, you greeted Yuju who was indeed on her bed, cross legged and working on some scientific study of unicorns or something of that sort as you caught a peek of a marked up anatomical sheet. She waved back but only gave a small smile, not letting her focus wane from her work for very long. You shucked off your robes and hung them on the hook by your bed, reaching to place your phone on its charger and toe off your shoes while you’re at it.

“I’m surprised, you didn’t let your boyfriend in. He seemed pretty adamant today, really thought you would’ve caved in ages ago.” Yuju piped up, still not looking away from her book, only proceeding to mark something red on the side of the animal’s hind leg.

“Who? Jimin? C’mon Yuju, you know we’re not a thing.”

“But you want to be.”

“Who says that?”

This prompted her to look up, giving you the biggest ‘you’re kidding me right?’ glare, unfamiliar on her usually bright and bubbly face.

“Sometimes, things don’t need to be said when they’re clear as day, Y/N.” You scoffed and tugged at the hem of your shirt, before suddenly choosing to shower tonight instead of early tomorrow morning. You’d rather sleep in before meeting with Jimin; so you figured you could deal with the eerily dark halls and echo-y shower chambers for the night.

“Girl, you are delirious. There is totally nothing between us, we’re just really great friends. People naturally get this chummy when they’ve known each other as long as Jimin and I have.”

It’s true, you’d grown up pretty close to the blond young man, having been from the same town and gone to the same schools, even as far as having both your parents enroll you in this magic academy only to be revealed that you’d share the majority of your classes together all throughout your several years in attendance. There was no way to avoid Jimin even if you’d wanted to, so you instead clung to him like a magnets do, and he’d happily obliged and in turn, befriended you more so any of his other acquaintances. Not even Kim Taehyung could come between you and Jimin’s bond.

“You know, there’s an entire genre of chick flicks with this exact trope, females eat this shit up like chocolate during their monthly visits.”

“Yuju!”

She giggled and shrugged, flipping a page in her textbook and marking yet another line along the spine of the creature this time.

“I’m serious though Y/N, this is pretty predictable path you two are going down. People say they’ll just be friends because you don’t see each other that way but it’ll click eventually; you already see their good sides, probably have seen some of the bad, and yet you’ve still stuck around. That’s bound to form some sort of comfort between the two of you, and when you get comfortable, you get intimate. Intimacy is key in a relationship, so boom; attraction has formed and suddenly you two have heart eyes for each other and tagging each other in things that remind one of the other.”

“Well, I think that’s a load of bull. And for your information, Jimin and I already tag each other in things.”

This peaked Yuju’s attention, her pretty eyes looking up from her textbook to give you a prying leer, eyebrows already reaching her hairline.

“Yeah, memes.” You responded proudly.

She sighed exasperatedly and threw herself down onto the bed, forgoing her work to rub at her tired eyes.

“Why are you such a hopeless romantic, Y/N?! I just want to vicariously live through you, and yet you won’t ever make a move on this guy who’s literally head over heels for you and willing to do anything and everything to stay by your side like some lost puppy! I’d kill for Yerin to look at me the way Jimin does with you.” She continued to cry, pouting cutely at the unfairness of the situation.

“Maybe you really are delusional, Yuju. I mean, you never know, maybe this exact thing is happening between you and Yerin.” She shot up from where she laid, eyes bulging at the thought. She chewed on her lip, deep in her thoughts as she tried to replay all the times she’d been around her good friend, trying to see if any of the flirting criteria she puts you and Jimin under fit with the two of them.

“While you stew over than some more, I’m gonna hit the showers. Don’t wait up!” You shouted over your shoulder as you took your usual basket of toiletries, sure to check that you had your favorite body wash and loofa before locking the door behind you. You began to hum as you roamed the halls, the sounds bouncing off the paintings and ancient gold plated lanterns gently. The giant windows along the way blew in trickling breezes, causing some of the nearby chimes to ring softly, another melody to tie into your hums.

Sometimes, this was the creepiest part of the night, where the sun was just dipping under the horizon and only soft tangerine and rose hues ghosted over the hallways, barely enough light to see past yourself let alone down the seemingly endless corridor. But sometimes, it was also calming; soothing even. Just the warm wind tickling your cheekbones and the taste of the impending night was enough to melt some of the stress from your body, even before you stepped into an even more lulling, hot shower.

Luckily, it was a Tuesday night, a usual “date night” for couples and friends alike, since Tuesdays were the assigned days that extracurriculars and sports weren’t allowed to hold practices or events. It was meant for students to socialize, keep their minds from fraying too much in this unusually strict school.

Classes weren’t that hard and only a handful of teachers and staff seemed to have poles up their asses, but you knew that at the end of the day, it was because this school was teaching something so fragile, so dangerous, that sometimes people have to be strict. Otherwise, chaos ensues and a lot of innocent people could get hurt.

It being Tuesday meant that the bathing chambers tended to be fairly empty, save for a few of the single females or the odd couples that start their shenanigans later in the night.

You walked into the room, greeted with some billowing steam much like a sauna at a swanky spa. Though this was obviously not a spa and instead just a regular tiled room with shower stalls and too many mirrors to make an insecure girl feel comfortable.

The sounds of running water shut just as you were setting up your basket in one of the further back stalls, not too close to the creepy dark corner where the light doesn’t really hit right nor not too far from the front entrance, should anything try to creep up on you and you needed to make a hasty escape. A shower curtain sounded from the same direction, being flung from being closed shut on one of the stalls and a stunning blonde stepped out, her towel wrapped tightly around her torso and her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, swishing behind her as a few strands stuck to her wet shoulders.

She flashed you a gentle smile and you smiled back, wondering what a girl as pretty as her was doing showering instead of going out and being with someone to hold her hand and tell her how fucking gorgeous she is.

“Y/N, right?” She spoke, her voice just as melodious as you would’ve thought it’d be. You nodded and she smiled a little wider, teeth just the right shade of white to be on a toothpaste commercial or something equally as corny. “You’re Yuju’s roommate, she’s told me about you. But honestly, she never mentioned how pretty you are!” Heat flushed to your face from the compliment, a muttered thanks being all you could scavenge up, since someone as radiant as her shouldn’t be thinking you, an average straight-B student that hasn’t gotten laid in months, as pretty.

“Only good things, I hope?” You finally formulated a decent sentence, her reply being a soft nod before she continued.

“Yeah, no complaints so far! Except, she’s always saying how you refuse to take things further with your boyfriend, though I think that’s sort a personal call on your end if you ask me.”

“Oh god, she discusses Jimin and I with others?!” The girl giggled and reached for her own basket of toiletries that hung inside her stall, sauntering over to the mirrors to wring out the final drips in her hair over the wide sink. As she spoke, she made eye contact with you through the mirror.

“Jimin, as in Park Jimin?” You nodded. “He’s a dreamboat, forget what I said before, you should totally go for it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name…?”

“Yerin.”

“Oh, you’re Yerin?”

“Should that tone worry me?”

You shook your head vigorously, hoping it wouldn’t snap right off your neck from the force alone.

“No, no! Just, she’s told me about you too, only good things as well. Really good things…”

She seemed to smile at that, something proud and almost knowing in her eyes as she looked down into her basket, pulling out some skincare products to use.

“Actually, can I be honest for a second? Since she seems so keen to play ‘Love Doctor’ with my best friend and I—which by the way we are not romantically involved, no matter what she says—I think she needs a little push in the right direction too—not that Jimin and I need one, stop looking at me like that.” Yerin laughed and you stifled your own laughter at how that sounded, a little too on the defensive side to be all that innocent. “You and Yuju… is there anything happening there?”

That seemed to make Yerin’s expression fall, her eyes looking sadder than before. She took a moment, pausing to sift through her things and pop open some cream before sighing and turning to you to speak, finally meeting your eyes face to face.

“I don’t know. It feels like we’re right there, but every time I try to take a step forward, she seems to take two back and it leaves me in a really confused place. I feel like she doesn’t want to reciprocate but then she gets so touchy and shy, in ways she doesn’t with anyone else, and it’s just really frustrating. I’m too scared to say anything but God, it’s getting harder and harder to act like I don’t feel anything.”

You took everything in, trying to absorb what she was telling you but before you could come up with a decent response, she turned back to the mirror, crestfallen expression still on her face.

“Listen, forget I said anything. Just don’t worry about it, sounds like you’ve got your own issues with Mr. Park.” Her delicate hands rubbed lotion on her face and you wanted to shout at her that Yuju did have feelings and that this could all be remedied if the two of them would just grow a pair and make a move, but Yerin seemed to be done with the subject, no longer regarding you in the room with her.

You made sure to take your time showering, not wanting to extend the awkwardness with Yerin any longer and have to come out with her still there. The definite shuffling of her getting dressed sounded through the room and the loud iron door slammed shut, signaling that Yerin was gone and you were all alone with your thoughts in the chambers.

The water was scalding, the way you liked it, and it helped clean out your pores along with your mind, letting it wander to simple thoughts, like how your parents were doing, the weather for the rest of the week and when your next assignment was due for Potions class. That broke your bubble of tranquility, eyes shooting open to realize that you’d forgone doing an important project for the said class. You’d put it off because you were sure you would get around to it eventually, the long assigned period for it being mostly because of the slower kids in the class. You felt like you could come up with something decent in half the time, and here you were with only a few days to come up with something astounding to show the teacher and the rest of your class.

The project was you had to create your own potion that caused a physical reaction, nothing too complicated but it couldn’t be something basic either. So out the window were the easy choices of making someone invisible or giving the class rat a second tail.

Tonight you’d have to forego a relaxing night’s sleep to stay up and brainstorm on the recipe, and you might have to reschedule breakfast with Jimin since you’d have to go to the lab first thing in the morning to actually test out anything.

Now you rushed to clean yourself, getting all the important bits and sure to not forget anything in the stall before hurriedly patting yourself dry and getting dressed in a loose shirt and shorts, your usual sleeping attire. You coughed awkwardly as you exited the chambers, catching sight of a couple making out far too heavily for your liking by the door, no doubt were they headed inside to make use of the darker corners. As long as they cleaned up after themselves, you could live with it.

In an admittedly less serene state than when you first came, you made your way back to your room in record time, fiddling with the lock to return to what seemed an empty room. You flicked on the light switch and looked around, calling for Yuju before finding a note on your bed, her curvy handwriting lining the page.

Had to find out for sure, if I’m not back by midnight, celebrate for me. Love, Yuju ♡

You laughed and shook your head, proud of her for finally doing something about her crush. Grabbing some books and your Potions notebook, you set off on getting something done for the night, hoping you’d find a simple solution to your issue soon.

Unfortunately, Park Jimin had other plans.

All it took were three swift knocks to your door to completely derail your plans for the night, his voice hurriedly whispering against the mahogany door.

“Y/N! Y/N, let me in! Pleeeeeeeaaase?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and finding yourself in a similar position to your First Aid teacher’s earlier sentiment towards Taehyung, only this time it was towards Jimin.

Opening your door just a fraction, you catch sight of Jimin, clearly fresh out the shower as his shirt still clung onto the wetter parts of his body and his hair dripped lazily down his face.

“What do you want, you leech?” You deadpanned, not in any mood for his shenanigans.

“Please let me in, Y/N. I’ve been sexiled,” He pleaded, pout back in full swing and it didn’t help that his watery puppy eyes were being lined with actual drops of water from his hair, making him look that much more pitiful. “I had to get dressed so quickly because I wanted to get a good night’s sleep only to come back and find Taehyung almost completely balls deep in that girl from Creature Anatomy.”

“Oh God, too much info, Park.” You audibly groaned and grimaced at the detail, not wanting to imagine Taehyung going any further inside the girl than Jimin had already so vividly painted. He tried to pry his way past your door but you wedged your foot on the other side, making sure it wouldn’t budge. “Where do you think you’re going? I don’t care who Taehyung is fucking, it doesn’t mean you can come here and bother me!”

“But that’s what best friends are for, Y/N! You’re supposed to be my solace, my sanctuary against all things evil and impure; which is basically what Taehyung having sex equates to so, just let me in already!”

“No! I’ve got stuff I need to do,” You looked back into your room to see your notebook and textbooks still woefully opened to useless pages, the few minutes you had before Jimin interrupted bearing no assistance in your dilemma.

“Do you have a guy in there?” Your head snapped back to face Jimin, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?! No!”

“A girl? I don’t judge, if that’s the case.”

“No Jimin, there’s no one else here. Not even Yuju, she went to go take care of something. Which by the way, imagine if she had been here, you would’ve been such a nuisance to her.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, trying once more to push past you with no luck.

“I don’t think so, I think she secretly likes me.”

“As if, don’t flatter yourself.”

“C’mon, I’m sure whatever you’re doing can wait. I’m more important, always.” He smirked and puffed his chest out a little.

“And who assigned you that priority?”

“I told you, it’s a best friend thing!” Jimin chirped and you couldn’t help but laugh at his cuteness, a little too chipper for being sexiled from his own room.

“I really need to focus Chim, it’s Professor Jung’s Potion Project. You know, the one from like a month ago?” Jimin nodded but he still seemed confused, as if wondering why that was relevant. He must’ve assumed you’d finished it already, since you hadn’t mentioned it before and you were always an exemplary student when it came to due dates. “I didn’t do it.” At this, Jimin looked shocked, his eyes widening to the size of the moon.

“Y/N, that’s due by the end of the week! And it’s Tuesday!” He runs a hand though his damp golden locks and looked at you in disbelief. “Well now you gotta let me in! You need all the help you can get!” And with that, Jimin used all his (surprisingly powerful) strength to push past you, making himself at home in your room.

“Jimin, I can’t have you in here distracting me though,” Jimin turned quickly and flashed you a smirk, throwing himself against the dresser at the front of the room and posing “seductively”, leg halfway up onto one of the drawers.

“I know I’m quite the distraction Y/N, but you’ll just have to hold off your burning passion for me for a while longer, until we get this done. Then we can get you done,” He wiggled his eyebrows and you gagged, pushing him from his pose. “If all things go right, you just might be doing that later on.” You grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it, not knowing how you’ll manage with the ultimate pervert that was your best friend.

A few minutes later, you two were on your bed, knees knocking into each other and thighs touching, the two of you wearing cozy shorts meant for sleeping.

“So, what did you do for your potion?” You asked, palm cradling your face as you try and scan the newest page you’d opened up to for something to spark the slightest bit of inspiration.

“Just a simple matter-changing potion. You add a drop to anything liquid to make it into a solid and another to make it back into a liquid. It’s really easy but I fine-tuned it so it takes the form of whatever the liquid is made of.” You silence boded Jimin to continue, needing to elaborate on what made his potion so special. “So like, if I added a drop to orange juice, it’ll turn into an orange. Or an apple from apple juice.”

“What if you put it on milk?”

Jimin stopped for a moment and looked equal parts intrigued and disgusted at the idea, shaking the thought straight out of his brain.

“Don’t give me that kind of power, Y/N. I don’t want to even imagine that.”

“What if you used it on someone’s come—”

“Why are you like this?”

You laughed loudly and slapped Jimin on the shoulder; this being payback for his thirsty ass constantly bothering you on the daily.

“Anyways Chim, it’s a good idea. I like it, if it works then you should get an A, no problem.” He smiled and returned his focus on looking through the book he had in his lap, trying to find something you would be able to make in a short span of time. “Ugh, I hate this, I can’t think of anything and I’m not even sure I’d be able to make anything work if I even had an idea where to start.”

“You’ll be fine, you’re like… a star student. There’s no way you won’t pull through.” You disagreed but Jimin continued to encourage you, staying up to look for ideas for half the night. It was when the two of you were half-asleep, faces mushed against books and eyelids drooped down past halfway when you suddenly shot up, scaring half the life out of your best friend and making him fall off the side of the bed to clatter loudly onto the floor.

You peek your head over the edge, watching him recompose himself while your hair dangled past your face. When he finally looked coherent enough to understand you, that’s when you animatedly began to spit out your idea.

“What if I do a size potion? Like, change the size of someone or something!”

Jimin looked unimpressed and unenthused, clearly upset that that’s why you scared the shit out of him.

“That’s so first grade, Y/N. Plus, what use would that be good for, other than for guys in bed?”

“God, even when you’re dead tired, you still only think about sex. And I don’t know, it’ll be something easy enough that I think I could manage in the short time I have; it’s better than the whole lot of nothing you came up with.”

“Hey now, I came up with the dissolving clothes idea. All you had to do was fine tune it so it’d only disintegrate undergarments.”

“Fuckin’ perv.” You straightened up and began to shuffle through your documents, searching for anything to do with size alterations. Regardless to his reaction to your idea, he still got up and sat next to you once more, helping you organize some notes for the morning. “I’ll go to the lab first thing, try out a few test runs and see what I can work with.” Jimin tiredly nodded and just acquiesced with what you were saying, wanting nothing more than to lay back down and get back to the sweet dream he was having of a girl that smelled of peaches and tasted like them too.

“Maybe you were on to something though—you aren’t all nasty, Park.” He mumbled out something that sounded like ‘what’dya’ mean before you continued, waving him off from your notes so he could lay back down against your pillows. He gladly obeyed, eyes already sliding shut from being back in a comfortable position. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet, hear me out. So like, what if I did make it so only one part of a person changes size? Like maybe hands, it’d help you out for sure.” You cackled as Jimin tiredly kicked at you from where he laid, a smile still toying on his lips regardless.

“Seriously though, maybe I could just make it so someone’s features change? Like their eyes got bigger or something.”

“So like, magic plastic surgery?” Jimin mused.

“Yeah! But like, it’ll be temporary, so if someone wanted to change something about themselves for a night, they could. I mean, there’s all those things to change the color of your hair or your height already, so why not be able to give yourself a little makeover in the blink of an eye?”

“Sounds cool, honestly. Think you really could give me bigger hands? Tae is always giving me shit about them, comparing our pinkies and stuff. He never thinks to compare the sizes of the real things that matter though.” You shoved at the thigh that was resting by yours, tittering at his joke before finalizing your thoughts on paper, moving some of the books away from your headboard so you could snuggle up next to Jimin.

“For now, let’s sleep. Unless, do you think Tae’s done?”

It was a lost cause though—Jimin was already fast asleep on your pillow. His pout was opened slightly, the smallest dribble of drool slipping out onto your bed. You’d give him shit about it later, but for now, you wanted to get some shut eye. It’d take some time to perfect the formula but with Jimin’s help and now clear and concise route, you’re sure you’ll make some good progress in the morning.

○ ◐ ●

The morning was warm, soft sunlight flittering in past the pastel blue curtains Yuju insisted on putting up. You stirred slowly awake, stretching only to find too many things getting in the way of your limbs. Cracking open your eyes, you find your books at the foot of your bed, stopping you from stretching your knees out and the one and only Park Jimin next to you, stopping you from stretching your arms any further.

“Morning sunshine, nice to see you two in bed together.”

You shot up, much like last night when you had the sudden epiphany, and looked to the sound of the voice, finding Yuju there brushing her hair while facing the mirror. The way she looked at you reminded you too much of Yerin last night, cocky and knowing while using the mirror to make eye contact. The similarities were jarring.

“Nothing happened!” You shook your hands in front of you, still feeling slightly disoriented from getting up so quickly. You’re sure you’ll have a headache in a bit, being woken up suddenly always made your head throb for ages.

Yuju looked unconvinced, rolling her eyes and catching her brush on an unsightly knot.

“Sure, and I’m not a raging homosexual.”

“Yuju!” She snickered and pointed her chin in the direction of Jimin, his body shifting the bed as he slowly arose as well. The noise and movement must’ve woken him up, hopefully leaving him in a better state then yourself.

“Mmm, what’s going on?” Jimin blearily spoke, his voice tinged with the rasp he always got when he woke up early or stayed up late. In all honesty, it was sort of hot whenever he spoke like that. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud or anything.

“Gotta go to the lab soon, Chim. You coming?”

“What, did he not last night?” Yuju joked from where she was slipping on her shoes, fixing the strap on her Mary Janes before standing up straight.

“Yuju, I told you, nothing happened! He’s slept over before, you know this!”

She shrugged, giving you a sly thumbs up.

“That was before I had my eyes opened properly; now I see through all these little charades of yours.” You brushed her off and turned to Jimin once more, trying to shake him awake as he tried to lay back down to sleep some more. He tried to shove you off but you were one persistent fucker when you wanted to be, and soon Jimin was toeing on his own shoes, tugging on the jacket he left last time he’d stayed over.

“ ‘m cold.” He mumbled, eyes still eighty percent shut as he basically slept while walking behind you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have slept with your hair still wet. You’ll probably catch a cold soon.”

“That’s an old maid’s lie, it has no correlation.”

“Are you calling me an old maid? I’ll leave your ass to freeze, Park.”

“What, here in your comfy room with a soft bed and peachy bedsheets? No way.”

“Peachy?” You stopped and faced Jimin just as you were about to head out the door, books and notes in hand minus the one textbook Jimin so “generously” offered to carry.

“Yeah, you and your stuff always smells like peaches. It’s nice.” You tried not to think much of it, not thinking there was such a pleasant scent associated with you or why Jimin would know it so fondly. Jimin seemed to want to brush it off as well, pushing past you to open the door and step out into the even colder corridors, already clutching at his sides in hopes to contain the little body heat he had.

Making sure to lock your door, you set sights on the potions lab that was open to all students. You needed to try out some recipes and do some test trials before you could put your ideas on paper. The assignment required the student to write down every detail of the formula—the ingredients, steps, all nine yards—and then describe the test trials and any outliers in the experiments, all with explanations for their results. Then at the time of presentation in class, you can either show a video of the reaction or show it first-hand, which is preferred because unless your paperwork is spot on, Professor Jung is going to judge harsher since a video could easily be doctored.

“Hey Y/N, do you have any idea where we’re gonna start?” Jimin mumbled, pushing open the creaky door to the lab to reveal it was as empty as ever, most kids probably already done with their projects or at the very least, far enough along that they don’t need to come in at the ass crack of dawn to get some work done.

“No idea, I have some ingredients I researched last night so I guess maybe we could start mixing some up and seeing the results?” Jimin shrugged and sat at one of the stools, kicking one out from under the table for you to sit at next to him. After opening up all your notes and spreading them out on the table in front of you, Jimin began to skim the ingredients you had listed and the possible reactions written next to everything, nodding along with some of the musings.

“By the way, Yuju came back late last night obviously but like, what was she doing getting up so early? Looked like she was going somewhere…”

You paused where you were re-reading, thinking back to when you’d heard her originally shuffle back in. She awoke you for half a second, her footsteps breaking you from your slumber long enough to see the time on your alarm clock, it had been around four in the morning. You’d fallen back asleep fairly quickly, too exhausted to think much of it.

“I don’t know… She went to go talk to someone—”

“Past midnight? Sounds like a booty call if you ask me.”

“Jimin! God, I swear you and her are way too similar; you should try being friends.”

“She is cute, maybe I could give her a call—”                

“She’s gay, Jimin. And as you said yourself, busy with ‘booty calls’.” Jimin snapped his fingers, muttering about how it was just his luck. You just laughed it off and moved on, though your mind still clung onto why Yuju had returned so late and left so early. Why not just stay over if that was the case?

From here on out, it was just simple conversation between the two of you, like always. He’d hit on you or say something flirtatious and you’d shoot it down with a snarky remark, earning laughs from the both of you. All while making decent progress on figuring out theories on reactions.

“Okay, so we don’t have long until we need to grab something to eat and then head to our first classes, but should we actually test out a couple of these?” Jimin nodded and you went back to the supply cabinet, inspecting the labels and rubbing your chin thoughtfully. “Read out what we need for me, please?”

“Dragon scales, four of them to be exact. A vial of Unicorn Horn powder—of the Celestial breed. Elf tweed, Cream of Witch, Angel Ashes, one wolf tooth, Vitality Root and a couple of leaves from the Northern Forests.” Jimin read out the list, going down one by one and tacking off once you’d grabbed what was needed.

Returning with your arms full of ingredients, Jimin began to sort them by formula, placing the tweed with the roots and one dragon scale, making sure not to put the Angel Ashes or Unicorn Horn anywhere near that for fear of accidentally mixing the two.

You appreciated Jimin taking all this time to help you out, going as far as implementing the formulas with you.

“Chim, if you want, you can go get breakfast. I’m okay here, I’m grateful for all you’ve done so far.”

“I’ll go but only because I need to bring you back something. I know if I leave you to your own devices, you’ll stay until the first bell chime and you won’t eat until lunch. Can’t have my favorite girl fainting on me.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“I’m trying to compliment you here, Park. Don’t ruin it.” He giggled and waved you off, heading out the door to the dining hall. He knew what you liked, you trusted him to bring back something decently edible.

It was halfway through your second trial with the first formula when Jimin returned, a tray full of yummy smelling goodies in his hands. You gave him a quick smile before putting your focus back into measuring the perfect amount of ashes to put into the already mixed solution of root and cream. Jimin settled next to you, careful not to jostle where you worked for fear of messing you up in such a delicate situation. You were immensely grateful, mixing potions was a dangerous game and you weren’t exactly the most confident in your skills of potion forging.

Jimin rested his head on his arms, taking a single bite out of the plump red apple he brought in with him and letting his eyes slide shut. His breathing even against your arm, you let him rest his eyes as you finished the formula, watching the small puff of smoke turn green, indicating that it was complete.

You took the dropper on the right of your hand and filled it up to the first line, careful to keep any excess from slipping out. Once secured, you hovered the dropper over the small sunflower you’d picked to test on earlier, the first trial flower next to it, withering away pitifully as a show of its failed attempt.

The fluid dropped in two solid rivulets, landing once on a bright yellow petal and the other falling onto the thick stem. A slight sizzle sounded and you braced for the worst. Jimin’s head perked up and he watched in awe as the flower’s petals began to grow, blossoming out into gorgeous vine like leaves.

“It worked!” You shouted, Jimin’s smile spread from cheek to cheek, the chubby fat there making his eyes form into half-moons. “I can’t believe it worked!” You laughed incredulously, fists in the air as the vines continued to grow and swell with emerald vibrancy. “O-okay, you can stop now…” Your eyes widened as the leaves continued to grow, further than you ever wanted or expected them to.

“Y/N, maybe you should use the reversal potion…”

“I haven’t made one!”

Jimin looked at you with wide eyes, no longer the sleepy shell he was before as his senses were on high alert.

“You what?! What are you thinking, making a potion without having the reversal ready beforehand?”

“I-I wasn’t! I was so tired and the first time didn’t work and I was just so frustrated, I’m sorry!”

Jimin scrambled to assemble the reversal potion, reaching for the ingredients and trying to work off your notes to make something that stopped the growing, and hopefully kept from anything else happening. You watched in horror as the potion made the plant sprout more leaves, along the stem as the clear green of it became more yellow-tinged; looking sad and sickly compared to what it used to be.

“It’s killing it, Jimin! Oh my god, my potion is a disaster!” You cried, Jimin mixing the concoction he had in his hands as fast as possible. The stirring changed the color from a faded purple to a lighter, almost pearlescent color. It meant that the reaction had bonded successfully, the shimmery fluid looking like liquefied gems in the small pot Jimin used. He quickly dipped his hand with a silver spoon to scoop out some of the potion, sparing no time to toss it onto the plant. It took a moment, but the vines finally stopped growing, the gnarling and twisting of the branches finally coming to a halt and bringing the room back to the gentle silence it was in before.

You both sighed in relief, shoulders sagging and you tossed yourself onto the workbench, mad at yourself more than anything.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid!” Jimin patted on your shoulder reassuringly, rubbing circles there as you tried to fight off tears of frustration.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“But I should’ve known better! Everyone knows that you shouldn’t apply a potion without having a reversal or cancelling potion prepared first!” You felt pathetic, being so irresponsible and reckless.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s really okay, at least you didn’t set fire to the building or anything like that. Leave that to Taehyung.”

You bubbled out a small laugh, grateful for having Jimin here to reassure you and comfort you with his presence alone. He smiled at you and you two collaboratively worked together to clean up the mess, setting up for the second formula.

This time, Jimin mixed up the potion while you prepared a reversal. Before you two could apply anything, Jimin nudged you with his elbow, motioning to the tray of now-cooled food he’d brought for the two of you. Silently relenting, you both reach for something to stave off your hunger for a little while longer, letting the solutions fester.

“See, this toast was crunchy before—if we had eaten earlier, it would’ve been better.” Jimin chewed on the soggy bread, looking at you smugly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. I messed up your morning, shut up you trash bag.” Jimin tossed a grape in your direction and you expertly dodged it, laughing at his attempt. He tried once more and managed to hit your neck, leaving a glistening spot where the moisture from the fruit landed. You gaped at him and reached for something off the tray, anything to toss back and retaliate in this little war he’d begun.

Soon you two were flinging all sorts of things at each other, Jimin giggling adorably at everything while you tried to keep from soiling yourself at the sight of Jimin with jam smeared across his cheek. In the midst of it all, you’d blindly reached for something off to the side, from where you’d hid behind a further off desk for protection. You tossed it in Jimin’s direction, hoping you’d get a square hit until Jimin shouted and you jumped up to celebrate.

You stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of what was happening.

Jimin was doused in a mixture of liquids, the pearlescent white reflecting off one shoulder, and a grainy-blue over his torso. The several containers of mixed potions, botched and not, all over Jimin’s body. You were terrified, not knowing what would happen to your best friend of many years as he was completely exposed to a clearly violent potion, alongside a non-tested one—large quantities of them, to be exact— now on him.

“Jimin!” You ran to his side, trying to help him but still at a standstill as to what to do. “Quick, get it off you!” You scrambled to rip off his jacket, noticing that it soaked through and forced him to strip off his t-shirt as well.

“Damn Y/N, when I pictured you stripping me, this was certainly not the circumstances I was expecting to be in.”

“Now is not the time for jokes, Park! I don’t know what’s gonna happen or how to reverse anything that does—you could be dying!” You cried, unable to fight off tears as you imagined the worst. You’d be responsible for the death of your best friend, all because he threw a damn grape at you and you couldn’t let it go without going too far.

“Well, in that case, mind giving me something before I do?” You stopped patting down Jimin’s body to look up into his eyes, your vision blurred from your misty eyes. He looked at you thoughtfully, before dropping his gaze to your lips and back up. “I think I wouldn’t mind kissing one last girl before I go. Guess I could settle for you.” He smiled and you knew there was no venom to his words, your own smile fighting past your distraught expression.

Fucking Park Jimin, what am I gonna do without you?

You step forward and crash your lips into his, not caring at the clash of teeth or how he certainly wasn’t prepared for that. His hand snuck around your waist and you melted into his plump lips, ignoring the pull in your chest because no you most certainly did not have feelings for your best friend, and now was not the best time to be thinking that anyhow.

Before you could savor the kiss for long, you felt him pull away and suddenly the warmth was gone, his hand no longer around you and the feeling of a person devoid in front of you. You opened your eyes to see nothing in Jimin’s place, just thin air.

You began to sob uncontrollably, unable to control your tears now that your friend disappeared right before your very eyes. You’d done this, you’re the reason Park Jimin no longer exists.

How will you tell his mother? His little brother? Oh God, his grandma is gonna have a heart attack.

All the sudden, you heard something penetrating your sorrowful sobs. You stopped to sniffle and try to hear closer. Behind all your sniveling was a small voice, one much like that of your late best friend. You looked left and right, seeing nothing and deeming yourself delusional. Already the stress was setting in, you were hearing things and soon you’d hear his voice in your head twenty-four seven.

“Hey! Down here!”

You perk up to look in the direction the voice spoke from, finding a small boy dressed in only red shorts and sneakers, waving his arms frantically from the pile of clothes he’d shed earlier.

“Jimin?” You crouched down, finding your best friend perfectly intact, otherwise harmless besides the fact that he was the size of a pixie. “You’re okay!” You wanted to smush him in a big embrace but you settled for picking him up and holding him against the side of your face, Jimin’s arms outstretched to hug the fat of your cheek.

“If by okay you mean I’m like the size of Tae’s dick, then yeah I am!” Mini-Jimin chirped, his already fairly high-pitched voice sounded a little higher.

“I don’t even care about how that’s way too much info, I’m just so happy I didn’t kill you!” You pushed Jimin further into your cheek, ignoring his sounds of protests muffled there. “We just gotta figure out what happened…”

“I think the combination of the reversal that spilled on me plus that new formula I made fused to adjust my size like planned, but they didn’t exactly do what we wanted. Also, the extra exposure probably didn’t help. God, Jeongguk already makes fun of me for being short. Imagine what he’s gonna say now.”

You immediately pulled Jimin away, making him eye level with you as you tightened your grip on him.

“You cannot tell anyone about this!”

“What?”

“If a teacher finds out I recklessly endangered you with magic, they’ll suspend me, take away privileges and I’ll automatically fail the assignment! Please Jimin, I’m begging you. Just keep quiet and I’ll help fix this, we can get you back to normal in no time!”

Just as you said that, the first bell chimed and marked that the lab would soon fill with students who had class here in the morning and you and Jimin had your own classes to go attend.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I’m sort of not in the best place to be doing that, so can I take a rain check?” You fixed Jimin with an unamused glare, putting him down on the desk to hurriedly clean up your messes. “Y/N, what are you gonna do about me?” He shouted as you ran to the back of the class to return ingredients and throw things away, erasing all evidence that you’d been here.

“I don’t know! I don’t have time right now, just… just keep quiet, okay?” You pleaded Jimin before taking him and putting him onto your books, trying to shield him from view.

“Wait, my clothes!” Jimin yelled and you groaned as you picked up after him, hoping no one caught you with men’s clothing running down the hall. You bolted out the lab and made your way to your room, dodging all the student blearily heading to their morning classes. You garnered quite a few odd stares but you couldn’t care less, having too many things on your plate right now to worry about what people thought of you.

Once back inside your room, you put Jimin down and hurriedly grabbed some clothes for the day; jeans and black tee to go under your usual school robes. You’d nearly forgotten about Jimin until a tiny wolf whistle sounded from your desk.

“Wow Y/N, a private show all for me? You really know how to make it up to a guy.” Jimin leaned back against your lamp, hands behind his head and a smug grin plastered on his face.  You rolled your eyes and quickly grabbed a sticky note from a pad off your desk, letting it dapple down and land on Jimin’s tiny figure. You giggled a little at his sporadic reaction, the adhesive sticking to him and keeping his vision blocked.

Taking advantage of the moment, you quickly changed and by the time you had slipped your robes on, Jimin had finally unglued himself from the slip of paper, looking severely disheveled and his hair sticking up adorably in all directions. You snickered and caught his tinier-than-normal hand flicking you off.

“Okay, I have History of Spell-Binding to go to but I promise, the minute it’s done, I’ll be back and we can figure things out until I have to go to Tongues.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re not actually gonna leave me here, are you?” Jimin exclaimed, flattening down his wild locks. “Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

You shook your head, “No way, I’ll get caught!”

“What, with a five inch man in your pocket? They won’t even know! What if I fall off the desk, or accidentally get strangled by a staple?” You rolled your eyes, coming closer to crouch and meet Jimin eye-level.

“Stop being so ridiculous, you’ll be fine. Just don’t be stupid, simple as that.”

“Y/N please! Put me in your pocket or something, I promise I’ll behave. I don’t want you getting in trouble, what would I do without my bestie?” Jimin pouted and you hated to admit that it look several times more irresistible when he was so cute and petite like this. “C’mon, don’t make me kiss you again,”

You scoffed at that, choosing to shut him up by dropping him in the breast pocket of your loose-fitted robes, much to Jimin’s chagrin. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, proud that he got his way—like always.

“Hey, for your information: I kissed you. Anyways, are you really gonna go around shirtless like this? I mean, not that your body isn’t bangin’ Park, but I don’t think I feel very comfortable knowing I have a miniature person in my pocket; let alone a half-naked one.”

Jimin looked down at himself, as if he’d forgotten about the lack of attire on his body. Unfortunately, his jacket and shirt hadn’t shrunk with him, having been picked up by yourself and thrown haphazardly in a plastic bag, for fear of the concoction still soaked in it affecting anything else.

“Well, not like you’ve just got clothes for tiny people sitting around, now do you? Unless you feel like fashioning me a shirt from paper or something…” Jimin gnawed on his lower lip, trying to find a tangible solution that could be manageable within the short time frame you had before you absolutely had to bolt to class.

“I’ve got it!” Your booming voice made Jimin jump from where he clung on your pocket, falling inside onto his back. He grunted as the wind was knocked out of him and he was jostled heavily as you ran to somewhere he couldn’t see, still not aware that Jimin was tumbling around you coat pocket like clothes in a washing machine. “It’s not exactly the most fashionable, but it should do for now!” You announced cheerily as you held up a tiny Hawaiian shirt, covered in flowers and a dark navy base color. The red flower print matched his pajama shorts pretty well, and you wished you had a pair of tiny flip flops to make him look like the vacation doll you stole the shirt from, a souvenir from when your parents went on a tropical vacation.

“It’s… cute. Makes me feel like I should be lounging by the beach with a Piña Colada in one hand and a ukulele in the other.” Jimin took the shirt and inspected it before deeming it good enough. Luckily, the dolls are handmade so the buttons were actually functional instead of just sewn together. Mini-Jimin got dressed quickly, trying to stand steady on practically no solid ground in your pocket, but you were nice enough to refrain from moving so Jimin could get dressed with minimal issues.

He nodded adorably when he was clothed, beaming widely and you couldn’t help but smile back, fighting the urge to pinch his cheek in fear that you might pinch his whole head on accident instead.

Finally regaining some sense, you gathered your things and set off for class, once again forgetting of the precious cargo in your pocket as you dashed off and Jimin rolled around in your robes. He felt nauseous from all the tossing and turning but you’d arrived to class quickly, settling in your seat and trying to not look suspicious; not at all like you had someone chilling in your front pocket.

Jimin knew he couldn’t show his face so he laid down, using the bottom of the pocket much like a hammock, closing his eyes and trying to see how he got himself into this strange situation. He lulled himself to sleep to the sweet melody of your voice, letting himself get lost in how you answered questions, how even your robes enveloped him in such a soft, peachy aroma. Like being cuddled to sleep by your aura, Jimin felt content.

By the time he awoke, it was by the sound of your voice once more. It’d roused him, but in no way was your voice projecting like it had been in class. No, this was more close quarter speaking; someone was here in a room with you and Jimin, and he was helpless as he tried to figure out what state of limbo he was in.

“Yuju, could you please like… go away for a bit? Pretty please? I never try to kick you out, it’s just this one time, I’m begging you.” Jimin rubbed at his eyes and tried to hear clearly, the slight muffle from the fabric of your clothes combined with how sleep still clung to him made it hard to understand what was going on. “I’ll let you kick me out whenever you want, I pinky swear.”

“Are you sexiling me, Y/N? Finally got around to messing around with Park, huh?” Yuju grinned, eyebrows raising high and making you want to run your face through a wall. This was a game you’d just have to play into, if you wanted to get Yuju out soon without raising any more questions and possibly revealing the very compromising person you had in your pocket.

“Yes, okay? He and I got to talking and we… we kissed.”

“Oh, I have to hear all about this!”

“Later! I promise, I’ll tell you all the chick flick moments later, I just really need the room.”

“Alright, I know when kids need their space to do the do, I’ll get out of your hair. I expect a full disclosure later on though, make sure he respects your boundaries and all that.” Yuju grabbed her purse and phone from where it was charging, pointing at you before closing the door behind her. “Use protection!”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair before Jimin finally climbed up to the top of your pocket, clinging on for dear life as he shouted up to you.

“So, we’re fucking now? Kinda hard in the state I’m in, don’t ‘cha think?”

“Oh my God, I could throw you to the owls, you know that right?” Jimin shivered at the thought, never really liking the eerie birds that flew around the academy. He swore they were out to get him, beady eyes and all. “Didn’t think you’d want that. Anyways, let’s get some work done. Professor Choi cancelled her class, something about the snakes getting loose or something like that. Better make sure you’re not around there, otherwise they might mistake you for a mouse!”

Jimin shivered once more, crying out for you to stop threatening him with being devoured. It was scary enough being tiny, let alone in a world full of hungry predators that could gobble him up in a heartbeat without so much as a second thought.

You placed Jimin on your desk, letting him settle where he wanted while you fished out your notes. You tried to work on them a little in your earlier class, getting as far as fine tuning what was actually in the concoctions that spilled on Jimin but not having anything else to work off of from there.

“God, I only have two days to turn you back to normal and get my project back on track. Why not just end me now and save me from all the misery?” You scanned over your notes over and over again, ignoring tiny Jimin who was now leaning on your stapler. He seemed to want to sit and he hopped up on the object, scaring himself when it dropped with his weight and released a staple; a loud clap compared to the small click you heard that had you peeking over. “What’s the matter Chim?” You saw Jimin with his hand clutched over his heart, eyes bulging out.

“Shit sounds way louder when you’re small. Never thought a stapler would scare the hell out of me.” Jimin shook himself out of the stupor and looked around for somewhere better to sit, somewhere that didn’t scare the crap out of him whenever he shifted.

You watched as he wandered over your desk, aimlessly searching for something, though you didn’t know what.

“Jiminnie? Did you need something?”

He shook his head, not looking away from where he eyed a bottle of nail polish—Yuju’s that she used the other night.

“You know, you actually look pretty adorable in that shirt. I think I made a great choice, don’t you think?” Jimin nodded and smiled, making eye contact with you. Despite the oddness of the situation and how Jimin basically got all the short (no pun intended) comings, he seemed to be awfully grateful for all you’ve done so far to try and make it up to him. You had to give him props, you’re not sure you’d be able to keep your cool as well as Jimin had if you were put in his shoes.

You finally caught on to what Jimin was looking for and you reached into the drawer of your desk, pulling out a little box where you kept your index cards. Placing it by your notebook, Jimin’s eyes lit up and he ran over to the box, shimmying his small body and hauling himself up to the top to seat comfortably there. His feet dangled over the edge, and you couldn’t help but poke him with the end of your pencil. He giggled, as if it tickled him, and tried to push the eraser away from him. A valiant but futile effort.

It was a few minutes in of just you quietly scribbling down notes and observations, trying to draw a conclusion as to what happened so you could work backwards and fix the issue, when Jimin began to sing.

He’d sung around you before, his voice was stunning and soft and breathy in all the right places. It wasn’t uncommon for him to sing you to sleep, or when he felt at his most comfortable. When you’d brought it up to Taehyung and Jeongguk, they’d simply looked at you in awe, not knowing that Jimin could sing. It seems you were the only one he felt safe enough to let go with, and that thought alone warmed your heart and helped you sleep at night.

Since he was smaller, his voice was higher and fainter; it traveled more like a breeze but it still tinkered in your ears, like small bells inside your brain. A few times, Jimin would look over and see you swaying to his melody, something so simple yet so soothing to him. He’d love to sing for you more, if only to see that soft smile he loved so much more often.

“Hey, ‘Min?” You stopped yourself for a moment, barely containing your giggles before continuing. “Haha, Mini Minnie, that’s you!” Jimin pouted at that, though you could tell he hadn’t actually been off put by the nickname. “Did you want something to spruce up your style a little more?”

He looked at you with a knowing smile, teasing eyes toying with you.

“Don’t you have something to work on?”

“Just a five minute break, no biggie.” You flipped your notebook to an empty page, tearing it off the spirals and reaching into your drawer again for scissors this time. Jimin looked worried, clearly not enjoying the size of sharp, metal scissors compared to his own small stature. You made sure the keep the blades far from Jimin as you made the slip of paper smaller, putting down the pair to then focus on the paper. You stuck your tongue out in focus, something Jimin found adorably endearing, and worked on folding the paper neatly and smoothing out the creases between every fold.

In the meantime, Jimin jumped down and saw an opportunity to try something. He’d reached your pencil, which was about three times his size, and he bent down, eager to attempt an idea he had. As he grunted, he finally managed to get the pencil up, albeit in a shaky grip. He tried to balance it upright, as if to write, but it quickly toppled over, nearly smashing him underneath it like a tree freshly cut down in the forest. He had half a mind to call timber before you’d noticed and saved him from an unfortunate doom.

“Try not to hurt yourself, okay?” You looked at him reassuringly before finalizing your little craft. You held up a small folded paper hat, much like a sailor’s, and you gently brought it towards Jimin, watching as he patted his hair flat for the hat to sit comfortably there.

Jimin proudly puffed his chest out with newfound machismo, smiling a grand grin with his hands at his hips like a ship’s captain. You giggled at his pose and pulled out your phone to snap a quick picture, something too cute to pass up. He laughed and the bubbling giggles sounded even more precious when they were fainter, lost in the sounds of his hat crinkling.

He ran over to the little cup you had by your lamp, where you had colorful paper clips and other stationary goods like tape and packs of pencil lead. Jimin pulled out a striped paper clip, colored yellow and royal blue, and tried to bend it straight, the effort alone making him red in the face and sweating like he’d just ran a good mile. After a moment of watching him struggle, you willingly helped him out, handing him the freshly straightened clip only for him to hold it like a fencing sword, aiming at you with a parry and lunge.

You grabbed your own paperclip, this one being white and pink, and straightened it much like Jimin’s own. Beginning a small sword fight, the two of you laugh and clack paperclips until Jimin surrenders by default, unable to keep his weapon up as he collapses in a fit of giggles, clutching his midsection.

When the two of you had finally recomposed yourselves, Jimin wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, you decided it was a good enough break but it was due time to get back to finding the solution to Jimin’s “little” issue.

Jimin pouted, crying about how he wanted a rematch but you simply gave him the smallest of nudges, causing him to fall back on his prime ass. He rubbed at it, acting like he’d hurt himself more than you know he actually did.

“Ouch Y/N, way to go. I’m pretty sure you bruised my ass, it’s one of my most valuable assets. Haha, assets.” You rolled your eyes at Jimin’s immaturity. “Anyways, I expect you to kiss it better. I’m waiting!” He tapped his foot impatiently, standing back up and pointing at his rear from the corner of your notebook.

Deciding to throw Jimin for a loop, you reached for him and turned him around to press your lips against the plump muscle on his ass, his little yelp sounding simultaneously adorable and hilarious at once. You were halfway tempted to take a bite of the flesh there too, but you weren’t sure if you’d manage to take a small enough nibble to only capture a cheek; you felt like you’d end up with his entire ass in between your teeth and that was something you’d honestly never be able to backtrack from.

“There, happy?” Jimin looked affronted, rubbing at where your lips pressed before. The phantom feeling had him in shock, standing on shaky legs once you’d put him down. “You always talk about me being peachy but you’re the one with the real peach, if you catch my drift.” You flashed him a wink and returned to your writing, not realizing how Jimin curled more into himself and how one of his small palms covered the front of his pants, hiding a pretty interesting tent there.

You didn’t have long, the class that was cancelled only spanned an hour so you tried to make most of the time, making good headway and a theory formed for what occurred, leaving you to solely create a reversal solution. You liked to think that it was because of mini Jimin cheering you on with tiny papier-mâché pom-poms and his chipper little voice that helped you manage to get so much done in such a short amount of time.

The corners of your papers were lined with tiny, black footprints from when Jimin accidentally got ink on his shoes and ran all across your desk, a small reminder of his form before you inevitably were to change him back to normal. You made sure to get a couple of videos and few more photos of him before the bell chimed to signal lunch time.

“Okay Jimin, let’s go to the lab and get you back to normal.”

“No way, you need nourishment Y/N. I won’t be responsible for you not eating.” Jimin stamped down one foot, arms crossed over his chest. It was meant to be stern but you couldn’t help but want to pinch his little cheeks instead.

“Did you want to come with or…?” You motioned to the desk, seeing if he’d catch onto what you meant. He nodded, already stepping up for you to grab hold of him and put him in your robe pocket again, but before he reached it, he motioned for you to listen.

“Why don’t you let me ride in style this time, since it might be my last time?” You furrowed your brows and Jimin’s lecherous grin spread, his tongue darting out to wet his pink lips. “I think it’d be very enlightening to sit in the backseat, you know?” You fought the urge to face palm, feeling annoyance pricking under your skin and if you weren’t as close to Jimin as you were, you’d halfway consider dropping him from where you held him.

“The last time you wanted something because it could be your last chance, you got a kiss from me. Isn’t that good enough?”

“While it was very lovely, I’m still a man of many needs, Y/N.”

You muttered, “Yeah, like you need to shut up.”

“I heard that.”

You scoffed and dropped him back into your pocket—the robe one since you surely didn’t want to feel Jimin burrowed by your ass anytime soon; whether when he’s big or small.

○ ◐ ●

Yuju had invited you to eat with her in a spot with Yerin, since you didn’t have your usual lunchtime with Jimin. At least, they thought you didn’t.

“So what happened with your boyfriend again? You’d think after he hit it he’d at least treat you to lunch afterwards.” Yuju commented around a bite of her sandwich, crumbs going flying and while you were disgusted, Yerin looked love struck next to her. It really was true when people said love is blind.

“I told you, he didn’t hit it nor did he leave me because he wanted to. It was a family emergency, he had to leave school for a couple of days. He should be back by Friday.”

“Oh great, just in time for the formal!” Yerin piped up from where she was dazed by Yuju’s eating habits, finally meeting your eyes. “I’d assume Jimin is taking you, so I’m glad he’ll be back for it.”

You’d completely forgotten about the spring formal, in the midst of everything. The formal was essentially a school dance, held on the upcoming Saturday and was everything glitzy and glamorous that came with the power of magic. It was all show-and-tell really; a way for students to unwind and hang off the arms of their significant others. The dress code was completely black tie; girls dressed to the nines and boys sharply cut in suits and dress shirts. Normally you’d look forward to the chance to have some fun and wear a pretty getup but this time, you’d clearly had other matters that took up your mind.

“I really hope Eunha can make it, she said she was worrying about her project grade for Professor Jung’s class. You know, if you don’t pass, you don’t get to go. It’s an academic probation thing, they put a hex on your door’s lock so you can’t sneak out or anything. It’s supposed to teach ‘discipline’ but I think it’s plain cruel to deprive a young student of such an experience.”

“Calm down Yerin,” Yuju wiped at her mouth and turned to look at her friend/girlfriend type thing, whatever they decided to be. “It’s a spring formal, not their wedding. There’ll be more if they miss one.”

You weren’t particularly worried about the formal, wanting to go, sure, but you were more concerned about making sure your best friend would get to normal soon. His size was no doubt a threat to his safety, too many variables that could cause him to get hurt, or worse.

“Y/N, Jimin did ask you, right?” Yerin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, making you quirk your eyebrows at her to repeat herself.

“If he didn’t, allow me to be the one to deck him for being so un-gentlemanly.” Yuju raised a fist for good measure, though you know she couldn’t hurt a fly. She was just being a good friend, one that you never thought you’d be able to count on but she’s been nothing but nice throughout your odd shenanigans with Jimin. Clearly, she was appreciative of your help in getting her and Yerin together.

Before you could answer, Yerin squealed gleefully, head tilted up and hand pointing up to the sky. You and Yuju both followed her sights to the now dappling peach blossom petals that began to descend from the sky, with the aid of the warm breeze that trickled in.

Jimin peeked in from where he’d been quietly laying, eavesdropping on everything you three ladies had been chit-chatting about. Including thinking his own thoughts about the formal and how he’d never even thought to ask anyone, let alone you. He was just planning on going stag, maybe joining Taehyung and Jeongguk as The Three Musketeers until they each found a companion for the night; parting their own ways for the time being.

The petals were dazzling, soft and creamy against the pale blue of the sky. The sun flittered in between branches and illuminated the petals that would step into its warm rays. You couldn’t help but close your eyes as they reached where you three (four) sat, letting them caress your cheeks gently and land amongst your hair and legs. One particular petal set sights on the tip of your nose, balancing precariously and making you go cross-eyed looking at it. The girls giggled at your silly expression and you huffed out a small laugh before blowing a sharp puff of air, dislodging the petal and letting it fly away.

Jimin had been entranced by the sight—of the petals and of you. The pink suited you well, touching your skin like silken ribbons billowing down from the clear skies.

He’d been too carried away with watching you that he hadn’t seen Yerin, her eyes now locked on the small boy in your pocket who looked suspiciously just like your maybe-boyfriend. Jimin finally looked over to find her eyes, fear filling his own as he’d failed you; he’d revealed the secret you’d been so keen on keeping. You should’ve left him in your room, so he couldn’t spoil what was almost a perfect getaway.

It seemed like Yuju was slowly making her way to seeing him too and he was still paralyzed from shock that he hadn’t hidden away. Luckily, in that moment Yerin smiled and reached for Yuju, tugging her back into a passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

“What was that for?” She whispered breathlessly, still surprised by the action, especially in public since they hadn’t really come out to anyone about the status of their relationship.

“Let’s go back to my room for the last few minutes,” Yerin winked, Yuju agreeing in a heartbeat and quickly saying her goodbyes. You sat there puzzled as to what happened but Yerin looked back at you as they left, smiling and giving you a wink. You’d assumed it was because she was going to go have some fun with Yuju, but at the feeling of Jimin slouching in your pocket, you’d looked down to find him out of hiding, in plain sight.

“Jimin! What are you doing?!” You whisper-shouted, hissing at him to get back into hiding despite the fact that the only two people who had been in your immediate vicinity had already left, hand-in-hand.

“She saw me.”

You sat frozen, looking at Jimin worriedly.

“Yerin saw me. But she… she kept Yuju from seeing and winked at us. At me.”

You slumped against the trunk of the peach blossom tree and looked up, watching the last few petals shake from the branches to calm your roaring thoughts before you confronted the issue.

“So you’re saying, she let it slide? Do you think she’ll say anything, to Yuju or anyone else?”

Jimin clutched onto your robe pocket, the fabric wrinkling slightly and he chewed on his lip, debating whether or not that wink meant good news.

“I-I don’t think so. Either way, I’m so fucking sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to come out like that. I should’ve stayed hidden, I just—”

You awaited for the tail end of his sentence, wanting to know what made him lose just enough of his senses to just come out and expose himself like that. When nothing came, you prodded.

“Just… nothing. Wanted to see the peach blossoms, got ahead of myself. They were so pretty I didn’t realize she’d been watching or that I’d been out far enough to be seen.”

“Jimin, you can’t be that irresponsible! Imagine if someone else had seen, someone less considerate. I’ll have to thank her later, if she does keep her mouth shut that is.”

“I think that’s Yuju’s job actually.”

You sighed and picked him out of your robes, putting him down next to you on the grass. The blades nearly towered over him, making him feel like he was in a temperate jungle rather than just outside on the school grounds. Making sure no one was around—not like anyone from a fair distance could even see the miniature boy on the ground amongst all the grass and petals—you let Jimin relax and stretch his legs for a bit.

“Y/N, just a warning: there’s a ladybug on a leaf here that’s like eighty percent of my size. And it’s kinda freaking me out.” You giggled and cooed, trying to push Jimin towards the scarlet bug.

“Aww, Minnie it just wants to be friends! C’mon, give it a little kiss!”

“What, like the one you gave my ass earlier?”

“I didn’t hear any complaints, plus you asked for it.” You shrugged and started to eat the French fries you’d gotten with your food. As you nibbled thoughtlessly, Jimin decided to walk a little, to explore what the world looked like down a magnitude—he’d seen dew that could’ve easily drowned him, rocks that would look like specks of dirt to you and anyone else and a very active line of ants trailing up the side of the tree trunk, their features magnified for Jimin’s eyes.

“Don’t stray too far, okay Chim?” Jimin nodded and looked up the trunk from the base, forcing his neck to crane all the way up just to catch a glimpse of some of the peach blossom petals swaying down, slowly. They dragged through the air, being the final few and Jimin had been trained on watching one specific petal descend that he hadn’t seen the second that was approaching faster. It startled him as it landed square on his hair, covering his entire head and part of his shoulders. The petal stayed in place as Jimin made his face visible, the pale pink framing his visage.

You laughed around the mouthful of food you had, careful to swallow before you choked. Jimin looked absolutely adorable wearing a peach blossom petal on his head, like a second head of hair.

“Chim! Pink’s a good look for you!” Jimin scowled from under the petal, too precious to be menacing and you only giggled more at his expression. You rose three fingers straight in a line and touched your heart, chin pointed high. “Scout’s Honor!”

“You’re not even any kind of scout Y/N, not even the kind that sells cookies and makes knots.”

“I don’t think there’s one kind that does both of those, Jimin.”

“Whatever!” He shook the petal off and ignored how you compared the natural blush of his cheeks to the color of the flower, his skin only turning a deeper shade of rose as you continued to coo at him.

The bell chimed and you gathered your things, sure to get all the litter before scooping up Jimin into your palm and cradling him gently and letting him jump back into your pocket. You hadn’t realized that a few petals followed him in but Jimin didn’t mind, the aroma was nice and he made use of them as makeshift blankets.

“Hey, Y/N?” You hummed and started to walk, letting Jimin stay peeking out for a little longer before you stepped back into the halls, where he’d inevitably have to stay hidden away for hours on end. “Let’s just wait ‘till tomorrow to turn me back. After all, I’m theoretically excused until Friday and I’ve kinda been having fun as your little cheerleader.”

“Aww, Minnie, you just want me to kiss your ass again, don’t you?”

“Yup, you caught me. Please Y/N, kiss my ass.”

You cackled loudly and it made heads turn your way, Jimin quickly ducking down as you tried to recover from the awkward solo laugh by snatching your phone out from your jeans and pretending to be talking to someone, hoping that it didn’t look like you just laughed by yourself out of nowhere.

You could hear Jimin chortling inside your pocket, the fabric bunching and crinkling as he was throwing himself with every laugh. A few not-so-inconspicuous flicks later, he’d finally finished his thrashing; though you could still hear a few muffled giggles and snickers every now and then as you settled into your next class.

For your first class of the day, Jimin was quiet. He’d slept through the majority of it and any time he had been conscious, he simply laid there and listened intently. This time though, he was clearly restless. Having had the opportunity to stretch his legs earlier now made him itch to move around, feeling far too cramped in the confined space of your robe pocket. You hoped Professor Jung wouldn’t point it out.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?” You perked your head to look over to your left, straight at your classmate, Minhyuk. Raising your eyebrows, it cued Minhyuk to continue. “What’s up with your pocket?” Snapping your head down, you see the fabric in a similar state to when Jimin was dying with laughter, obvious movement behind the silken wall that shielded Jimin from the public eye. Your eyes bulged and you tried to look as normal as possible with some—one—thing squirming around in your clothing.

Minhyuk looked at you as you awkwardly laughed, pointing at where Jimin just wouldn’t stay still.

“Oh this? It’s just my um… my project! For this class!” You continued to laugh and smile, hoping it conveyed a breezy attitude instead of the wildly anxious pit you had growing in your tummy. “I made a potion that makes your clothes feel emotions, so like right now, my robe is excited! See, it’s dancing!” Your smile hurt your cheeks at this point, feeling like you should be on a dental billboard or on the set of a really bad infomercial.

Luckily, Minhyuk beamed and watched excitedly at your clothes, until it stopped to move and his smile faltered.

“That’s so cool! But why’d it stop?” He pouted and clapped a little—quietly of course, you’re still in class—hoping to entice it like a small puppy to move once more.

“It… has stage fright?”

Minhyuk nodded like that made perfect sense and you couldn’t help but wonder how naïve he could be, looking expectantly for your pocket to start “dancing” again.

“C’mon little guy, don’t be afraid!” He hummed along to some overplayed pop tuned and you swore you heard Jimin snickering and muttering ‘can you fucking believe this kid?’ before beginning a miniature mosh pit in your pocket, making Minhyuk burst out in a bright, sunshiny smile. “Oh yay! Look at him go!”

You let Minhyuk have his fun, trying your best not to laugh loudly despite Jimin most definitely dying of laughter himself inside your robe, egging you on. It took biting on your knuckles and shutting your eyes tight to refrain from mocking Minhyuk, letting Jimin finish his dance number. Minhyuk gave you a thumbs up and turned back to the front of the class, dopey smile still plastered on his face. With the lack of eyes on you, you opened the top of your pocket to peer inside, Jimin’s hair sticking to his forehead and panting wildly. Even as exhausted as he seemed, he still managed to smile; though with the sweat glistening on his face and his shirt sticking to him, it made it look more like a smirk more than anything else—you tried not to focus on how hot it looked.

The rest of the class was uneventful, save for Minhyuk cooing at your pocket before leaving class—making people look at you strangely because it looked like the white haired boy was talking straight to your breasts. You hoped it would be quickly forgotten and you shuffled off to your final class of the day, groaning at your body starting to fray at the edges, exhaustion from the past few days starting to settle in uncomfortably.

Unfortunately, your final class was a complete fucking snoozefest. The professor was ancient and old fashioned, making you guys read from dusty old books and there was basically minimal to no hands on activities. It was just reading and worksheets. Nothing made you want to collapse into a mini-coma more than this class.

“If you turn your pages, you’ll see a picture of long-famed spell caster…”

God, if only you had a spell that could press mute on Professor Kang, it’d be a blessing. Jimin snored from your pocket and you envied the little guy, wishing you could nap as easily. If you even did so much as lean your head on your palm and rest your eyes for merely a second, Kang takes his staff and bangs it loudly on the ground. For an old fart, he sure knew how to make a lot of noise.

It wasn’t fair that Jimin got to sleep the hour away while you toiled in this private hell so you nudged him awake, subjecting him to the same torture you were put through. Jimin blearily looked at you through the gap of the pocket, hair falling into his eyes cutely. You fought the urge to ruffle his blond locks to instead pout at him, a little mad at yourself for waking him up now that you saw how sleepy he looked.

Luckily, the hour had passed faster than you thought and the bell chimed, most of the class making a mad dash for the door. No one wanted to be here more than they had to be. Including yourself as you followed suit, trailing behind the other students like herded cattle.

Once you finally reached your room again, you sighed loudly and put down your things. You were about to let Jimin out of his silken prison when Yuju made you jump out of surprise.

“Hey Y/N,” You clutched your heart and looked at her, though her expression made no move to change. Then when you looked down, your eyes widened at what you saw in her hands. “Do you have any idea why there’s a wet dude’s shirt and jacket in a plastic bag?” Her eyebrow quirked and you wanted to tell her anything but the only lie you could formulate. Unfortunately, your expression made Yuju think ahead, already tasting the story on her tongue. She smirked smugly.

“Ah, these must be Jimin’s. Looks like you two got pretty wild if he got soaked and left only half dressed.” You felt a tension headache settling in, ignoring Jimin who was pressed up against your pocket, hoping to squint his eyes just enough to see past the fabric and get a front row seat of the action. No doubt he was smirking too, at the idea that Yuju thought you and Jimin did something alone.

“It’s not what you think!”

“You said that this morning when I found you two in bed together. Cuddling, I might add.”

“Nothing happened then too! Why are you so sure Jimin and I are messing around?”

“Okay, you want the whole truth?” Yuju deadpanned, finally putting the plastic bag back where she found it before returning to sit on the edge of her bed, motioning for you to sit across from her on your own mattress. “I’ve been watching you two do this little dance around each other for far too long. Yerin and I were the same way until you made me realize that we both have feelings for each other, and honestly I can’t thank you enough for that. She’s always made me happy and it makes my heart sing knowing she’s mine. I just want you two to have that epiphany too; you’re happiest whenever you’re around Park Jimin or talking to him or just talking about him. I swear, when you say his name, it’s like he’s hung the moon and the stars for you.” Yuju stopped to finally look down, seemingly more shy than before. As if she was talking from personal experience.

“They say that there’s a line between friends and something more; it’s what stops everyone from making a move on a person. They’re afraid of messing something up, ruining a friendship by pushing past that seam. But honestly, there really isn’t any line at all. You notice when you go past it, when nothing changes except now you kiss and hold hands without having to hide it. There’s no more denying it, just embracing just how in sync you two are.”

You just sat there, trying to take in everything but failing as your mind kept screaming that there was no way you had feelings for Jimin like that—no way he’d felt that way about you. He was just a mindless flirt that you happened to always be around. All it was between you two was jokes, never anything serious whenever you held hands or cuddled or the time you two just made out a little in junior high.

Little did you know, Jimin was also stewing through some very similar thoughts.

He’d heard everything, his mind a whirlwind at the thought of dating you, being with you. It wasn’t like much would change: you two already ate almost every meal together, constantly in contact and each other’s personal friend to confide in. Yuju had a point, you two were already basically there minus the public displays of affection and even more private displays.

Jimin tried to keep his thoughts of you pure, but as you two grew up, you’d only grown more beautiful. He’d had trouble resisting when you’d ask to practice kissing with him in your youth, claiming it was for whenever you two would go to a boy/girl party and inevitably have to participate in spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven.  It’d gotten so bad back then that he’d get hard from kissing you, and he just assumed it was because he had a warm, willing body up against him, swapping spit but in reality, when he’d made out with other girls (and some guys) he’d had a much harder time getting it up.

The first time he jerked off to the thought of you, he worried you’d somehow find out. Like you suddenly gained the ability to climb into his mind and pick at his most private thoughts until you discovered the dirty, nasty, filthy things he’d come to with you in mind.

“Y/N? You okay?” Yuju reached over to touch your knee, making you jerk out of your thoughts. You tried to keep yourself under wraps but Yuju had thrown you for a loop, not knowing how to take all this information at once. And worse off, Jimin was right there. He shouldn’t have had to sit there and listen to this, as if any of it could make him suddenly want you. Not that you wanted that, not at all.

Hopefully he’d dozed off again or something.

Maybe it went right over his head, his lecherous mind going to dirtier places and hopefully not in the deeper meaning that Yuju was trying to iterate.

“Yeah, just… shook up, that’s all.” Yuju looked like she understood, having been in a similar position just the other day. It felt like she was eons older than you, a sage full of wisdom to impart on you. But in reality, she was just as fresh to all of this as you, still fumbling in the dark with her maybe-sort-of-girlfriend like a newborn fawn.

“Don’t worry, things will start to make sense soon. Don’t be afraid to test the waters, or just jump straight in. It’s what worked for me.” Yuju shrugged and her nonchalant attitude returned, picking away at her nails as if she hadn’t just challenged every thought you’d had for the past decade of knowing Jimin.

She got up and made her way to the desk, probably to work on some homework or something. But her voice broke you from your thoughts once more, a hurricane of ‘what if’s’ replaying in your mind.

“Woah, what the heck are these?” You craned your neck to see what she was bent over inspecting diligently. When you caught sight of the little Jimin sized footprints that marked parts of the desk, you scrambled to get up and make up an excuse. “They look like little shoe marks! Like the footprints of a pixie!”

“What? No, that’s ridiculous! Why would a pixie be here?” The room was filled with your awkward laughter, your face hilariously scrunched up in an anxious smile. Yuju looked at you strangely, especially with the odd reaction she’d garnered from you all the sudden.

“I’m not saying there was a pixie here—just that it looks like it. What’s got you so tense, Y/N?” Scratching at the back of your neck, you try and portray being aloof despite already being clearly strung out about the situation. Yuju wanted to press further, but a buzz from her phone and the designated ringtone she’d chosen for Yerin specifically binged from the bed. She abandoned her studies and the subject to check and see that Yerin wanted to see her, as soon as possible. That translated to ‘pack your shit up as quickly as humanly possible and run the fuck over to her.’ to Yuju. She barely even said goodbye before the door shut behind her, priorities clearly in play for her.

“Holy shit, that was so close.”

“Explain to me how you were gonna finesse your way out of that one,” Jimin crawled out of your pocket as you placed your palm in front for him to step out on. “Because it looked to me like you were struggling, Y/N.”

“Shut up, I was doing just fine.” You let Jimin walk out onto the desk and he immediately ran over to his foot prints, getting on all fours and trying to rub the ink away. That obviously was going nowhere so you reached for a small bottle of hand sanitizer and pumped some onto the desk where the ink was smudged, returning with a tissue for Jimin to wipe it away with. Might as well let him clean up the mess he made.

“Really? You were like a fish out of water, eyes bugged out and mouth doing that open/close thing.”

Fighting the urge to flick Jimin, you instead chose to sit down on your bed again, head in your hands. So much had happened in too short of a time and you couldn’t afford to let your focus wane; you still had Jimin to worry about and getting him back to normal tomorrow. Why he chose to stay small for the rest of the day and remainder of the night instead of being able to sleep comfortably in his own bed tonight, you had no idea.

Apparently you said the last part aloud because Jimin readily replied, standing up from where he was furiously scrubbing away ink stains.

“Because, this is kind of fun. And it’s been a blast watching you try and hide me.”

“Don’t push me, Park. I could still open up the window and whistle for an owl.” That shut him up completely, face draining of all color as he turned back to cleaning. You’re sure the ink had been soaked up into the tissue at this point but it kept Jimin busy and you weren’t going to complain. Not when you had so much in your mind right now and were in desperate need of a breather. You wish you trusted Jimin to stay safe in your room while you stepped out—a brisk evening walk would help clear your head for sure—but there were too many hazards, too many ways Jimin could end up squished like a bug in your room; forever a reminder of your irresponsibility.

Jimin probably finished a millennia ago but you couldn’t pay attention to him, still knee deep in thought about everything you’ve ever had with Jimin.

All the shared stares and long nights, road trips and phone calls. All the times you’d cried in his arms and how he let his walls down around you and showed you just how vulnerable he could be behind his quirky and flirty façade. The secrets you’d shared, when he came out as bisexual to you before anyone else—before his mother whom he loved so, so dearly. When you’d told him about the boy who you’d gone to third base with, hushed whispers in the school locker room and how you couldn’t keep up.

How Jimin had offered to help you out, let you practice on him as ‘friends’.

You’d refused, too afraid of what it meant to suck your best friend off for practice.

Sure, kisses in the middle of sleepovers were fine; ones after a particularly sucky day in between choked sobs were understandable. But that was a whole other level—a line you were sure you couldn’t cross for the sake of your friendship, years and years of dealing with Park Jimin just to be flushed down because you couldn’t say no to his dick. A line that Yuju decidedly admitted was non-existent; just a marketing ploy by movie directors and chocolate vendors.

Every barrier was now dissolved like ice melting into water, crystal clear and yet still so foggy because you’re looking for what was there before, the safety of what those walls meant but it’s a futile effort because who can make ice solidify with their bare hands? You’re left wading in the water, searching for something that’s seemingly not there. Making it more and more believable that you’re insane—delusional—seeing things that aren’t there.

“Y/N, I can hear your fucking thoughts from here. Mellow out, why don’t you head to bed early?” Jimin inquired from the edge of the desk, sitting down and letting his feet dangle. You’d find it cute if you weren’t so messed up, every little detail of Jimin now clear, no longer rose-tinted with your hidden desires; hidden affections now open for you to see.

You didn’t even think of it when you dropped your robes, letting them lazily slide off your arms and pool in an inky blob on the ground by your feet. You just reached for the hem of your t-shirt and tugged it up, pulling it off in one swift move. Jimin’s eyes were glued to your body, unable to keep his attention off you as you literally stripped in front of him. Half of him was aroused while the other half just gazed in adoration, finding even more of you to fall in love with.

Not that he was in love with you or anything.

He watched as your body moved with a certain fluidity, like smoke off a candle. It was mesmerizing, that and the pretty lace of your bra that you probably hadn’t planned on wearing for anyone to see but here he was, lucky enough to have a front row seat to the one thing that ran in his fantasies for the past few years. He was sure you’d ruined everything for him, he’d no longer be able to get off without the mere thought of you, let alone with someone else entirely.

You huffed as you threw your shirt in the general direction of your laundry basket. Jimin’s eyes followed the article of clothing for a half second before the sound of your zipper snapped his head back to you, heartrate picking up from what he was about to see.

There’d been times you two had changed around each other, in early youth when it didn’t really matter because cooties were real and girls were icky and it was no big deal. A few times in your junior high years, when you’d face opposite walls and shut your eyes tight, acting like you weren’t halfway naked just feet away from each other. Prepubescent hormones raging along with whatever stirred in your respective bottoms all in one confined space, a breeding ground for things to spark and stick in young minds for longer than either of you would ever admit.

His breath hitched when you began to bend down, pulling the tight jeans off your legs with the motion. They were stuck on your ankles so you had to shuffle some to kick them all the way off, the action just giving Jimin more a of a view. He could taste his heart in his throat, spit as thick as the air in the room. He felt like he could touch the tension as if it was a solid entity in the air, a tangible cloud of steam.

The inside of his throat just got tighter, hotter. His voice betrayed him, even the smallest whimpers coming out rasped and weak and all he could do is grip the edge of the desk harder with his small hands and hope it kept him from falling in a daze.

Was he asleep? Was this all a dream? He must still be slung in your pocket, dead to the world and nonexistent as he snores another class of yours away.

But you turn around and even dreams couldn’t materialize your face, no matter how powerful his mind was. Even the strongest sleeping spell couldn’t make him imagine the crispest details of your visage, not a freckle out of place as you looked at him with eyes that said too many words and not enough. Your breath was just as hard as his and he swore if you stared long enough, he could see the harsh thumping of your heartbeat against your ribcage, making your chest rhythmically bob up and down.

“C’mon Chim, you need to get to bed.” Jimin barely registered your voice, his own blood pumping too loudly in his ears and muffling everything around him into white noise. It was a surprise he had any blood left to go to his head, the clear situation in his pants showing where all his blood was situated. It seemed like you barely glanced at it, picking Jimin up and mindlessly putting him inside a dresser drawer.

You left it a crack open, slipping in a glow-in-the-dark bracelet you had to give Jimin a little bit of light, other than the small bit that peeked in through the crack. Jimin tried to recollect his thoughts, the idea of you stripping in front of him like that sounding insane and impossible but it had just happened and he had no choice but to face reality; that you’d willingly shown yourself to him.

Whether it was intentional or not, meant to be poetic in some way, he wasn’t sure. But Jimin’s mind was both devoid of thoughts and completely cramped and stuffed with them simultaneously, not knowing how to shut his brain up for the night long enough to sleep.

With the small glow of your bracelet, he’d assessed his surroundings. Clothes around him, definitely, but a closer look seemed to garner the information that he’d been placed in a drawer full of delicates—all sorts of lace and patterns surrounding him. It seemed like he was most definitely not getting any sleep tonight, the image of you wearing each and every one of these pairs of underwear haunting him too much to close his eyes, for fear of what his imagination was planning on cooking up with his little friend around to help out.

Deciding to bode his time a little more efficiently, he chose to take a trek around the drawer, careful not to trip over waistbands and straps. It was when he had to climb a mountain sized mound of fabric that he realized he was stepping on something solid, not soft and pliant like the other articles of clothing he’d stepped over.

His hand pulled away the few pieces that covered the hard surface, until he was met with something sleek and dark colored—possibly black or a deep purple or maybe a navy blue. It was hard to tell in this lighting but it was definitely big and dark, meant to be discreet and easy to hide. There was probably a reason why you’d kept it hidden in your underwear drawer; the obvious place to put something private is with your other private belongings. Still, it didn’t help melt the shock from his bones as he finally realized what it was he stepped on, what his eyes were taking in. The switch told him exactly what it was, a little vibrating toy for your solo occasions.

Hours ago, he’d have probably drank this up, using it as a perfect gag whenever he wanted to mess around with you, tease you to no end. But now it was just a crutch, something that inhibited his inhibitions but also fueled him to be even stupider, open his big mouth and get himself in trouble like he used to just for the sake of clearing some of the tension. He hated how dry his cotton mouth felt, how tight his shorts were on his already muscled thighs.

“Y/N! Nice friend you got here!” He shouted with all his might. For a brief moment, Jimin felt like you hadn’t heard him, the low hum of lights and fans being all he could hear until a rustle of sheets alerted him that you moved, coming closer with padded footsteps. The drawer jerked for a second, scaring half the shit out of Jimin before he realized you’d opened it and revealed yourself. You were now wearing an oversized tee, an off cream color. Jimin was infinitely glad you’d clothed yourself, for his sake more so than yours.

“What is it? Make up your damn mind, either let me sleep or risk me staying up stewing in my thoughts all night.” You rubbed at your eyes, clearly having already nodded off. Probably from all the exhaustion of today’s stress, all piled up and making you far more tired than you usually were. Jimin hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should pull at this thread, not sure if he could handle it once he’d unraveled whatever this held together.

Fuck it.

“I knew you had to have one of these, you’re too much of a lone wolf to be sexually healthy.” Jimin pointed at the dark vibrator he’d just been perched upon, trying his hardest not to let his joke formulate any images in his mind. You rolled your eyes but the heat that flushed your cheeks was unmistakable, impossible to mask behind your nonchalant attitude.

“Yeah I have a toy, so what? Most girls do, just like guys either have one or they make one.” Jimin grimaced at the fact, not too content as to how you were flipping his harmless joke to backfire on him.

“Or we get laid, simple as that.”

“Forgive me for having standards and not fucking the first warm body that offers itself up. If that were the case, I’d have lost my virginity way sooner and probably it would’ve been to you.” You simply shut the drawer back to where it was before, not giving Jimin a chance to give you a snarky retort. Not like he could, he was frozen in place thinking about how he might’ve been the one to have popped your cherry if you’d have given him the chance. If things had been different once upon a time, he would’ve been there to fuck you for the first time, all awkward limbs and over-lubricated bodies. Jimin suppressed a shudder of how many more times he’d would’ve had the opportunity to repeat the performance, each time getting better and better until he reached where you were now; old enough to sneak away and fuck inside shared bedrooms, experienced and in control of what you wanted.

He probably would’ve been familiar with your body by now, kinks and all. The thought killed him, and he cursed at himself for not seeing it before.

Jimin was completely, irrevocably head over heels in love with you.

He never thought about it before, chalking everything up to familiarity and proximity but here you were, lying in bed so close yet so far and all he wanted was to be next to you, curled up like he always used to when you craved the warmth, the safety. He wanted to make love to you, be enveloped by the smell of peaches and cover you in the petals he saw you so beautifully being cascaded in today.

His dreams were of you, his desires were about you. His mind knew long ago that he loved you, maybe before you’d even met. He’d bit into the fuzzy fruit of a peach and tasted heaven and knew that it was going to be his forever, his always.

He just never thought things would end up like this.

Awkward—it’d never been like that for you two. But when he had heard shuffling after a restless and fitful night, morning light filtering in slowly through the crack of the drawer, he couldn’t even stomach looking you in the eye. He knew too much, felt too much. It was like starbursts behind his eyes, leaving him dazed and confused. Just two days ago, if you’d had asked him where you two would be, he’d easily say wrapped up in one another, a basic morning after a long day.

Instead, it was a late Thursday morning and he felt sick to his stomach from the thoughts he’d had of you, the long hidden desires now slowly but steadily rearing their ugly faces; impossible to hide. He couldn’t look at you without returning to those dirty thoughts, ones of his hands selfishly enveloping yours and kissing away your fears, completing your passions.

“Alright, c’mon Chim. Time to be big again. Though, not like you ever were to begin with.” You let out a breathless chuckle and Jimin felt himself laugh, robotic. He crumpled inside, withering away like ashes off a burnt scroll.

You pointedly ignored the uncovered vibrator and how Jimin took one last glance at it before returning to your palm, throat still dry and scratchy. He avoided all eye contact, choosing to suddenly find his fingernails much more interesting.

“You’ll have to stop by my room, get some clothes. I’m pretty sure this stuff is ripe at this point.” Jimin peeled his (the doll’s) shirt away from his body, trying to ignore how he hasn’t showered for two days at this point.

“Oh God, can I just not deal with Tae?” You groaned and pulled on a hoodie, one that smelled too much like Jimin to be yours but your achy heart could deal with it, you didn’t feel like searching for one that you actually owned. If Jimin noticed, he hadn’t said anything and you thanked whatever deity or guardian angel you had for that. The less tension, the better. Jimin muttered a grumbled ‘tough’ and you had half a mind to tug at his blond locks before deciding against it.

“Can I ride in the hood or something? I don’t think that jacket pocket looks safe, I feel like I’ll slip out one of the sides.” Jimin shuffled his feet and you pondered for a moment what it’d look like if Jimin fell out. You stifled a giggle and Jimin gave you a pointed look before you raised your hand defensively, reaching behind you to let him walk onto your shoulder and jump into the inky hood of the jacket.

You could hear him giggling and the hood shuffling non-stop. It was clear that he’d been tumbling around back there and while you would worry about people seeing him, you’re sure no one else is up at this hour. Taking a look at the empty, unused bed on Yuju’s side of the room, you wondered if Yerin kept her all night because she wanted to or because she knew about Jimin. Either way, you were eternally grateful for that stroke of luck. Especially after the heavy talk with Yuju yesterday that turned your entire world upside down.

It was cold and the air was biting, spring still clinging to its early morning freeze. You enjoyed this weather the most, able to dress warmly for the early hours and slowly peel off layers by midday, the sun out to play for the remainder of the day. It warmed you all the way down to your toes and settled the chills that came from the cool breezes, the perfect temperature to be out and about in.

Taehyung and Jimin’s room was nearly on the entire other side of campus, where the boy bedrooms resided. Dreading even the most minimal interaction with the boy, you tried to avoid any extra conversation by murmuring what you’ll say beforehand, simply asking to get a pair of clothes for Jimin. If Taehyung asks, you’ll say he came back from his family early and was holed up in your room needing some fresh clothes, as he’d ran through all of the ones he’d brought already.

A couple of knocks later, Taehyung blearily opened the door. He was clearly dead asleep, his bedhead wild and face puffy with fatigue. His voice was barely there, masked with more of a grunt more than anything else. You stated your reason for being there and pushed your way through before Taehyung could extend this encounter any more. You knew where Jimin kept his clothes so you simply grabbed a t-shirt, jacket, jeans and underwear—pointedly avoiding the black tube against the far wall, the fleshy pink of the tip slightly visible and you suppressed the thoughts that hid in the dark, secluded parts of your mind. The ones that you refused to face last night when you tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what you said to Jimin when he found your vibrator.

You heard some shuffling and murmured voices, figuring it was Taehyung but when one sounded a little gruffer and albeit angrier, you turned to find Taehyung kneeled down, talking to a man in his bed. Your eyes grew to the size of saucers and you swore you knew the guy who was naked in Tae’s bed, solely covered by a thin plaid bedsheet.

Gripping the clothes tight against your body, you let out plenty of apologies and tried to get out as quickly as possible. But someone called for you, someone with the voice not of Taehyung and not of the man in his bed. You turned to find yet another man in the room, this one in the bed Jimin normally slept in.

“Hey, aren’t you Jimin’s girl?” The boy spoke, his voice a lot warmer and not at all gruff like the other two boys. He sat up from where he lay and revealed a toned chest, seemingly as naked as the day he was born as well. Luckily, the sheets there were also providing him the modesty he needed to shield his dick from your prying eyes.

“W-what? I’m not his girl!” You spoke in a high pitch, clearing your throat as you realized how horribly defensive it sounded. “I’m his friend, if that’s what you mean.” Trying once more, the sunny orange haired boy smiled lazily, looking far too chipper for this early hour. He was the complete opposite of the other two who were now blinking away sleep while huddling for warmth in Taehyung’s bed.

“Yeah, his friend who he wants to bone.” The dark haired boy in Tae’s bed spoke up, clearly lacking a filter. Taehyung snorted and the other boy reprimanded him.

“Ignore Yoongi, he’s always crabby in the morning. But hey, he’s not exactly wrong.”

“Listen, can we not get into this? I’ve kinda got a lot going on, and this isn’t really a priority.”

“But he always makes you one,” Taehyung spoke slowly, mind still catching up with everything. “Dude will literally drop anything and everything for you. Really surprised you haven’t realized yet, Y/N.”

“Y/N? That’s a pretty name! Listen gorgeous, I’d love to get to know you in a better environment,” The sunny boy chuckled while gesturing to himself, clearly aware at the stunning lack of attire in one room. “My name’s Hoseok, maybe Jimin could introduce us properly when he gets back?” You simply nodded and let him think whatever he wanted, while you wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of there. Clearly, something occurred last night while Jimin was ‘absent’ and you weren’t thinking clearly enough to deal with it.

You waved goodbye to the three guys and shut the door hastily, ignoring the gruff voice commanding ‘Hobi’ to get over to him and cuddle his ass. Something was going on between the three of them and while your curious mind wished to eavesdrop and get a little dirt, the shuffling in your hood followed by Jimin standing by your ear and holding himself steady by the lobe had grabbed your attention.

“Damn, Hobi, Tae and Yoongi? That’s fucking wild. And here Yoongi swore he was straight as an arrow.”

“Haven’t you seen Robin Hood? Arrows are meant to bend.” You winked but realized that Jimin couldn’t see it where he stood and you tried to shake off the awkward realization. Jimin simply shrugged and jumped back into your hood, making himself comfortable for the remaining ride to the laboratory.

When you pushed open the heavy door, the lab wasn’t how you pictured it to be.

Inside was another student, a boy already messing with some mixtures and grinning wildly at his result. You tried to shut the door behind you as quietly as possible, but the boy still noticed you, head snapping up and a smile spread across his face.

“Y/N! Fancy seeing you here so early. You look like shit,” Changkyun beamed, another person too happy to be up at this hour. You grumbled and took a seat at a desk, a far enough distance to try and convey the proper body language to Changkyun that you weren’t in the mood to talk. Unfortunately, Changkyun didn’t get that message.

He started some small talk, about why his roommate kicked him out and his crush on one of your friends and his plans for the spring formal, not understanding that you weren’t even dignifying his talking with proper responses, just nodding along.

How were you supposed to take Jimin out to fix him in these circumstances?

“Hey, do you mind keeping an eye on my stuff for a second? I got to take a wicked piss but I don’t trust leaving chemicals and ingredients out like this.” You nodded and waved him off, his stool scraping the floor loudly as he sprinted out the room. This was your chance.

Reaching for your bag, you tugged out all the notes you needed and let Jimin walk his way down your arm to the desk, his eyes already scanning the notes you’d made. You didn’t have much time to waste so you quickly gathered the ingredients you needed and began to stir everything up, hoping and praying that this was going to work and not kill your friend.

“You can do it Y/N. You’ve always impressed me, I know you got this.” Jimin encouraged you from where he hung off a beaker, his soft eyes making you want to melt despite all the anxiety that rattled your bones. It felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest, from adoration or nervousness, that was still unconfirmed.

He formed his tiny hand into a little fist and gave you one last punch of encouragement, hoping that his trust in you extended to the accuracy of your research.

Once the potion had been thoroughly stirred, you quickly put Jimin down on the floor and prayed that this was the solution. A final glance to the door later, you bent down to take the dropper and let a little of the potion drip onto Jimin.

The solution was of a pink hue, reminding you of the peach blossom petals and the rose-tinted glasses you wore whenever you looked at Jimin. It made you think of soft, warm summer sunsets and cotton candy at country-side fairs. Of ripe peaches and cheeks that seemed to match the color to a T, especially whenever you were around the wearer of the flush.

Jimin jokingly began to rub the liquid into his skin, like he was bathing in it. It made you laugh though it came out dry and humorless, still too scared to let relief wash over you just yet.

Any second now, Changkyun could burst in the door and see tiny Jimin on the ground, covered in a suspicious pink fluid and the thought horrified you. But before you could stay on that much longer, you turned back from the door to see Jimin slowly inching up in size, his head reaching your knees and deliberately climbing up in height with every passing second. Jimin’s face was shrouded in awe and excitement, having felt something odd in his muscles before he’d realized that he was no longer as small as he was before.

The process felt like it took ages but in reality it spanned probably the majority of a full minute. It seemed like the reversal took longer to kick in than the activator and even longer to work its magic. Soon enough, Jimin was looking at you eye to eye, his sunshine smile warming his cheeks and radiating inside the room. It wasn’t the morning light that made your eyes sparkle, it was Park Jimin’s grin.

“You did it! I knew you could!” Jimin ran forward to trap you in a hug, the liquid seemingly all gone as he pressed himself closer. You assumed it absorbed into his skin or evaporated or something but honestly most of your thoughts were wrapped around how warm Jimin felt, how you longed for his touch because this whole time was the longest you’d ever gone without proper contact with the boy since you two had first met. Usually you’d have already cuddled the shit out of him during the night or spent some time studying with him in the grand library of the school, wrapped up in his sweater and peering up to him from where you sat, nearly completely in his lap.

It made you so unbelievably self-conscious, noticing just how touchy you two had been all your friendship and only now have you realized that it brewed feelings inside of you, unbeknownst to the two of you. Would it disgust Jimin if he knew the thoughts that ran in your mind as his arms encircled your waist, hips flush against his own? Here you were, fantasizing how it’d feel to have this every day, without question or hesitation or every single ‘what if’ because you two already were and Jimin was just innocently hugging his longest friend, his supposedly “closest” friend. Some friend you were, huh?

Changkyun barged in rather ungracefully, forcing you two apart as you looked over at him, startled.

“Oh, hey Jimin! Nice seeing you here too, you working on your project for Jung’s class?” Changkyun sauntered back into his seat, facing the two of you instead of back at his own work.

“Actually, I’m helping Y/N out with hers. She needed a little encouragement,” He looked over to you and smirked, as if it didn’t make your knees weak already. “So I decided to be a pal and give her some.” Of course, just a pal.

Changkyun nodded and pointed behind himself, at where his work still stayed stagnant. “I’m just putting the finishing touches on mine, wanted to make sure it was still working how it should.”

You peered past him at his ingredients, seeing a couple of familiar choices and wondering just what his idea was. Jimin beat you to the punch as he inquired what Changkyun had chosen to do and he beamed with pride, as if he was hoping one of you would ask that very question.

“It’s a vanity potion! So the person ingests it and they’re able to manipulate the features of their face! Think of it like plastic surgery but temporary and less pain. Well, no pain, I wouldn’t want it to suck for whoever wanted to change up their look for a night.” You looked at him in shock, Jimin in a similar state. “Are you two okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Changkyun asked but you waved him off, mumbling about needing to work on your project. He shrugged and turned completely to face his potion, the two of you no longer in his peripherals.

Jimin’s hand had landed reassuringly on your shoulder but you couldn’t help but push it off, feeling completely destroyed. All of that work, for nothing. Because Changkyun had already applied the idea, and clearly he had done it more accurately and safely. You dropped your head in your hands and tried to fight off the moisture prickling at your eyes.

“I’m gonna head to the cafeteria, I’ll see you two around!” Changkyun waved as he finished cleaning his table up and headed out the door, the resonating click of the knob matching the crack of your heart.

“Jimin, I’m so fucking sorry. I put you through all that shit for nothing, I can’t believe this is happening.” No longer could you hold back the tears as they clumped your eyelashes and ran down tracks onto your cheeks, your face already blotchy. The arms of the hoodie were dampened from how many times you’d passed the sleeves over your face, trying to clear your blurry vision.

“Y/N, it’s okay…”

“It’s not! I’m gonna fail Jung’s project and I won’t be able to go to the formal which already sucks but I can’t believe I jeopardized your life and made you go through hell for nothing! It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have procrastinated and tried to do it last second and—”

“Woah, woah, time out Y/N.” Jimin formed his hands into a T shape. “You’re like one of the most hardworking, studious students I know. So what if you decided to take your sweet time on a project, not like we all haven’t done it. Seriously, you can’t beat yourself up about this so much. I’m not mad at you for what happened. Honestly, I’m sort of glad.”

You looked up at him and he couldn’t help but click his tongue at how small you looked, wanting nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and hold you until the tears dried up.

“You see, this entire experience was exactly that: an experience. How many people get to say they ran around as a tiny version of themselves for a couple of days? It was pretty interesting to see the world differently. To see people differently.” He pointed his chocolate-y eyes towards you and your hopeless romantic of a heart fluttered thinking that he maybe was talking about seeing you in a way that was more than just best friend; more than just platonic love. Jimin sighed before continuing, “What I’m saying is, I don’t know where I’d stand if it wasn’t for all this. I mean hell, I wouldn’t have had any idea about Tae and his harem of lovers that apparently sleep over from time to time if it wasn’t for you. It made me realize a lot and in the end, I had fun. Who knew that paper clip swords and giant lady bugs could be fun?”

Your laugh left you bitterly, still not believing that this could’ve been as pleasant as an experience as Jimin was painting it to be. Jimin couldn’t accept that as a response and he lurched forward, pulling you up to shove your head into the crook of his neck. Your tears were like a broken dam, coming out all at once. You muffled your pitiful sobs into Jimin’s shirt—the Hawaiian looking one from your souvenir doll, all sized up to match his now-normal height—and Jimin just cradled you, softly stroking your hair and letting you release all the tension in your body.

Jimin never wanted to lose this, how you were with him and no one else. It killed him to even think that someone else could take his place one day, to be the one to hold you at night and make your tears and fears go away. This was his last chance, or at least that’s what he saw it as.

“Y/N, I need you to look at me for a second.” Jimin gently tugged you away from him, revealing your tear stained face and his thumbs soothingly rubbed circles on the apples of your cheeks, trying to wipe off the residual sadness that glistened under your eyes. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, we’ve always been close and I don’t ever want to lose that. Just because Yerin and Yuju figured things out easily doesn’t mean we will but, I can’t stomach going a day without seeing you smile and make my life brighter and worthwhile.” You could only look at him silently, eyes jumping back and forth from his eyes to his lips to the images of sunny warmth radiating behind him and rose colored petals drifting down into his hair, into his eyes.

“So what if we hold each other at night and kiss a little on rainy days, as long as we’re happy, isn’t that all that matters?” You felt your head nodding and Jimin’s thumbs came back full force, tears starting back up again. “Just, let us have this. Even for a little bit,” And with that, Jimin’s eyelids drooped down, his pupils following suit as they looked down to your lips. You passed your tongue over them in what felt like anticipation but you didn’t move a muscle, still unsure if you were misunderstanding this completely.

Luckily, you weren’t.

Jimin’s soft lips crashed onto yours and it was gentle and firm at the same time; a diamond pillowed in soft pink velvet. His hands remained on your face, cradling it like you were fine china and he was afraid of letting you break, afraid of you shattering into pieces and taking his heart along with you. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding your breath until Jimin pulled away for a half-second, eyes locked onto yours as he filled his own lungs with oxygen before diving back in, submerging himself in you completely. It was his turn to be selfish, to take what he wanted for once.

Your shuddering breath gasped into Jimin’s mouth as you finally sucked in a greedy helping of air just before his lips met yours again. He’d pushed further this time, tongue at the seam of your lips before you parted them to allow him access. Licking inside your mouth, you brushed your own tongue against his and whimpered at the feeling.

This was so much better than when you two used to make out in junior high, for sure.

He pulled away once more and you chased after his mouth, not wanting to stop feeling his lips on yours. He’d giggled at your reaction, cooing at you adorably wanting to keep kissing him. You tried to return the sentiment but it just came out as choked hiccups, sobs still locked deep inside you as all of your relief burned and ached to come out at once, still not fully recovered from both the tragedy and fortune that all seemed to come together in a shakily wrapped bow.

“Baby, breathe. It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.” Jimin let his hands slide down to your waist, continuing to rub circles there. As he waited for your breathing to even out, he only took the opportunity to appreciate your beauty properly. Even flushed from crying, you still made his heart race like no one else.  His soft smile pushed further as you began to laugh, at everything. At how fucked you two were, maybe drunk already off each other. It’d explain your strange antics, how the two of you always seemed to be in your own bubble. It was always blamed on the fact you’d practically been raised together but now you saw past the veil, finally seeing Jimin as more than just a friend and Jimin seeing you as his other half, as he’d always had, only now he was ready to shout it from the rooftops.

“How are you—I mean, how can you—God Jimin, isn’t this crazy?” You stuttered and stammered, tripping over your tongue as you tried to formulate the million rampant thoughts running in your mind. Jimin breathed a small titter over your lips, pressing a peck there before responding.

“It’s always been there, under my skin I guess. Never thought I needed to hold and kiss you so much but now that I have, I don’t ever want to stop. It’s like you’re a juicy red apple and I can’t get enough of your taste.”

“I thought I was a peach?”

“Yeah, that fits you better.” Kiss.

“So, what now?” Kiss.

“What do you mean? With us or…?” Turn heads slightly, tongue.

“No, I’m talking about today’s lunch; of course I mean with us.” Jimin seemed glad that your sass was back full force. It meant that everything was okay, that you were back to your normal self and the terrifying awkwardness that Jimin feared so much last night was null and void, nonexistent because how could you two ever not be perfect for one another?

His hands slipped to cradle the small of your back, fingers softly pressing into the aching muscles you didn’t know you had. It reminded you of all the “platonic” back massages Jimin used to give you, how he’d beg for you to reciprocate but it was always laced with flirtatious intent, something you’d always pegged was just a personality trait of his and not something intended for you, specifically.

“Let’s just play by ear, like we always have. I’m cool with continuing our usual cuddling sessions, as long as I get to keep my hand on your ass for longer than two seconds at time without being slapped away.”

“I think I could manage that. But I want my end of the deal too,” Jimin ooh’d and you stifled a snicker, choosing to press your lips on the corner of his smile. “I expect to feel the wrath of the legendary Park Pout—patent pending—every day, no exceptions. Do you consent?”

“I could definitely live with that, c’mere and claim your payment for the day.” Jimin muffled his own giggles against your mouth and soon the passion from before was back at full force, minus all the tears and self-doubt.

Your hands snaked around Jimin’s neck and you gripped at the hair at his nape, finally tugging at the blond locks as Jimin’s mouth worked harder on yours. You’d wanted to get lost in his crashing waves, not afraid to be forever in the sea that was Park Jimin but the bell inconveniently chimed and you were unfortunately reminded of where you were.

Jimin reluctantly pulled away, trying to snag a few more kisses before disentangling himself completely from your warmth. Suddenly it wasn’t the sun that you craved, it was only Jimin. Though, in your books, they were one and the same.

“Guess that’s the universe’s way of saying to break it up.” You playfully batted at Jimin’s shoulder and his eyes softened at the sight of you looking so happy, a look he put on your face. He couldn’t be more content. “Y/N, could I take you to class?” You nodded gleefully with a stupidly dopey grin on your face, unable to hide your joy. His hand moved down to caress the top of yours for a moment, before taking it into his palm and raising it to his lips, pursing them to plant a small peck on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. You mock swooned but in reality your heart was doing somersaults, restless energy brimming at your fingertips—energy you didn’t know you had.

Jimin and you made quick work of cleaning up your area before he nearly tore your arm off, taking you by the hand and rushing you out the door. “I really wanna show you off already, c’mon!”

Even if he tried his damned hardest, Jimin couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he continually glanced at you all throughout the walk to your first class. You tried to keep from being focused on the boy whose warm palm cradled your own with an inherent softness you knew you’d feel imprinted in your skin for the rest of the day, even when he wasn’t with you. Taking in everything around you instead, you noticed how it seemed brighter, creamier at the edges. The sun wasn’t as intense flittering through the floor to ceiling open windows of the corridors, the people less abrasive as they made room for you and Jimin to walk past, the scarlet carpets looking plush to the touch despite being ancient, years of students moving to and fro on it rendering it tough like crushed velvet.

“God, I wish this class was a longer walk.” Jimin relented, looking at you with big fat puppy eyes. Usually you’d pine and reluctantly accept that it just wasn’t okay for you to kiss him, but now that dumb rule was pointless.

You selfishly lunged forward to kiss Jimin, the lack of surprise on his end making you think that he’d been waiting for you to make a move all this time. The thought both excited and angered you, wanting to know just how long Jimin had been wanting this. Had he been thinking it was one-sided all this time?

“I’ll see you after class? I’ll be right here, don’t be late.” He winked and gave you one last kiss, a press of lips before smacking away loudly. It was strange to be on this side, having always been the one watching bitterly as couples took part in PDA before and after classes.

You couldn’t fight the smile off your face even if you tried, ignoring how everyone seemed to take notice of your contentment. A few whistles and ‘way to go’s’ from some classmates had you feeling warmth creep up your cheeks at a rapid pace, trying to ignore the relentless pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

Sitting at your usual seat, somewhere in the middle of the lecture hall, you’re surprised to find someone sitting next to you within an instant, usually you had some personal space where you sat. Faced with a familiar face, you felt your fears dissipate.

“Hey Y/N, you look pretty chipper today!” Yerin grinned, acting like the cat that got the cream. You tried to nonchalantly shrug but she already beat you to the punch, hanging off you excitedly. “I saw you and Jimin kissing! Hell, the entire student body saw. It was super cute, I’m really happy for you two.”

“Thanks Yerin, but it’s not that big of a deal,”

Yerin nearly toppled over in her seat, blonde locks flying wildly as she spoke animatedly.

“Are you kidding me?! This is huge! Not only have Yuju and I been betting on when it was gonna happen, but you two are like, lowkey the biggest ship of the school.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She grinned and pulled out her phone, opening up to twitter and scrolling for what felt like ages before reaching a thread to show you.

“See? Everyone ships you two! They think you look super cute together or that you’re already in some secret relationship. One person,” She pointed at a username who’d responded a couple of times to the original tweet. “Had a theory that one of your parents didn’t approve of the two of you so you had to hide your relationship.”

“That’s ridiculous, our parents don’t even know anything about us here!” Yerin shrugged and continued to point out other people’s submissions—from pictures, to observations. It was sort of crazy, if you had to be honest. “This is creepy, they’re just obsessively watching us? And waiting for something to look even remotely couple-like?”

“They don’t have to! You two are always all over each other, you practically write the fanfictions for yourselves.”

“There’s fanfictions?!”

“Alright class, let’s get started…”

○ ◐ ●

“Baby, you’re okay with me calling you that, right?” You nodded and felt Jimin’s hand get tighter in your own, the edge of his long sleeved sweater ticking at your interlocked fingers as it practically drowned Jimin in its cottony goodness. “What about honey? Sweetie? Sugar lips?”

“Not sugar lips, that’s weird and it feels outdated.” Jimin agreed and continued to spill out name after name as you leaned against him, by the tree Yerin and Yuju had eaten with you at yesterday. When Jimin rattled off variants of ‘babe’, ‘boo’ and ‘baby girl’, you had to suppress a shudder. These were things you’d never thought you’d get called, let alone by the center of all your recurring and repressed wet dreams.

“Oh, I see. You like baby girl, huh?” Not dignifying him with a response, you felt more than saw his smirk as you burrowed into his neck, hiding your face from embarrassment.

“Well, well, well, are we interrupting the love birds?” Yuju teased, approaching with Yerin in tow and a tray of food in her hands. After telling Yuju for the millionth time that day that you weren’t lovebirds, she cackled and sat down, folding her legs under her and hiding away her pretty, smooth legs much to Yerin’s chagrin.

“I would say I don’t know a single pair of friends that call each other baby platonically, but that was legitimately you guys before so,” Yuju let her sentence trail off as her girlfriend settled next to her, placing a hand on her thigh to steady herself as she sat but you could clearly see it was just a ploy to get her hands on Yuju. It was cute, and you wondered if Jimin would pull that sneaky shit with you now that you two were embracing this whole ‘let’s just do us’ spiel.

“All jokes aside, I’m really happy for you guys. I wanna say that I was a huge part in this union since I gave Y/N ‘the talk’.” Give it to Yuju to make a heartfelt sentiment into another argument about getting you two together.

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. After all, she kinda did help you two realize your feelings, though it was more like throwing someone into the deep end of an ice cold pool and expecting them to swim than a friend gently easing two people together.

“Did you hear?” Yerin began to speak, swallowing a quick sip of her water which left her lips wet and shiny. “Eunha finished something for Professor Jung’s project! She thinks it’ll at least score her a C so she can go to the formal! I’m so happy for her, I wanted to see her in a pretty new dress. Her mom always sends her something gorgeous to wear, it’s so unfair.” Yerin pouted a little and Yuju kissed it away, smiling grand when Yerin cheered up. She couldn’t care less about what she was wearing, just glad she was going with Yuju.

Holy shit, the project.

You shared wide-eyed stares with Jimin, the both of you realizing that you had absolutely nothing to present in class tomorrow. You hadn’t even thought about it, being so wrapped up in Jimin and all these new-fangled feelings.

“Something the matter?” The girls gave you twin looks and while it was pleasantly adorable to see them with their eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed and heads cocked to the side, you didn’t have time to explain as you ran off, Jimin following right behind you while apologizing profusely to Yerin and Yuju. The two of them looked at each other and raised their brows, simultaneously using telepathy to convey the same perverse thoughts.

“Ah, young love.” Yerin sang, leaning to kiss Yuju as the wind began to pick up.

○ ◐ ●

“Y/N! Just hold on a second, Y/N!” Jimin panted behind you, barely able to keep up as you sprinted all the way to your bedroom, nearly slamming into the door full force as you struggled to unlock it. He stopped in the hall to put his palms on his knees and hunch over, trying to catch his breath. He wasn’t necessarily so out of shape, he’d just hadn’t been prepared for a mad dash all the sudden.

Once he joined you in your bedroom, he watched you scramble in your textbook, flipping pages and searching for something, anything, to have prepared for the following day.

“Y/N, it isn’t that big of a deal. We can just stay in on Saturday, watch a movie or something.”

“No! This was something important. You told me it was going to be our first official date, something special. I want this for us, not just me.” You cried, trying to muster up something tangible to work as a potion. Pondering on the idea of a potion that whitened teeth, you threw the book in frustration as you realized that Mark Tuan had already taken that idea, applying it himself earlier in the month to test it out and show off his results.

“Baby, I said it could be our first date. But a movie night could be too, or how about a midnight picnic? It doesn’t have to be big and fancy, as long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” You pouted at Jimin and reached out grabby hands for him, Jimin relenting instantly to envelop you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on your head. “Seriously, do you just want me to dress up and meet you here? If you want me in a suit, all you gotta do is say please.”

What angel were you in another life that allowed you to be granted the companionship of Park Jimin? He was so utterly perfect and you sure as hell didn’t feel like you deserved him.

“When did you become such a sap?” Your voice was muffled in his chest but you still continued to speak. “You’re no longer the Park Jimin I’ve known since grade school, the Jimin I knew would’ve said something about us fucking and making a potion out of it or something.”

He hummed, the vibrations soothing on your scalp. The two of you closed your eyes for a moment, letting just your breathing be the only things heard, slowly becoming in sync.

“You make me a sappy person, I guess. I always flirted that way, not noticing that I sort of meant it sometimes. I just always hid behind the humor in it, it worked for me.”

“Well, I love both Jimin’s. They’ve made me happy so far, minus the night you totally abandoned me after Leo broke up with me to go fuck that girl with the orange hair.” He couldn’t see, but you were definitely pouting against Jimin.

He nodded, “Okay, you’re right. That was a definite asshole move, but I’ll never do it again.”

“I would hope so, if you left me to go have sex with someone else, I’d probably be devastated.” Jimin giggled and nuzzled your hair, small hands cupping your cheeks before kissing you breathless.

“Fine, do what you will on Saturday. I guess, I’ll just take the failing grade.” Jimin puffed out his cheeks and told you it was okay, that one grade wasn’t gonna kill you. As much as you wanted to agree, it just looked super sucky on you to not even have notes or at least something to show Jung. He’d think you hadn’t even tried, despite having spent the past two days wrapped up completely in potions, paperwork and problems.

“So, in the meantime…” He pulled you far enough to make eye contact and his eyebrow quirked up. You knew this only meant trouble coming from your blond best friend.

Shaking your head, you let him lead the way to your bed, mouth already on yours. It was the first of many, many lazy make out sessions.

○ ◐ ●

“C’mon baby, let me stay.”

“No Park, I may not have a big presentation to make tomorrow but you most certainly do. Gotta rest up to keep your mind sharp,” The two of you had skipped the rest of your afternoon classes to spend the day with each other, lazily kissing and talking in between breaths. You sat up against your headboard, wiping the back of your hand against your mouth to clean off the excess saliva on your lips, the skin puffier than normal there. You’re sure it was redder too, Jimin hadn’t been afraid to show you how much he enjoyed employing his teeth during a good make out session.

“Still, how am I supposed to sleep like this?” Jimin gestured to the hard outline in his pants, his cock straining against the material.

You pushed him away as he tried to latch his lips back onto you, his own pout in a similar state as how he left yours.

“Uh uh, that’s enough, you leech. Yuju already texted me that she’s coming back, you have to go back to Tae and his gay harem.” Jimin giggled and gave in, not without stealing another kiss before getting up and adjusting himself. He griped about how hard it was to walk with an erection but you simply patted him on the ass and wished him luck, asking him to text you when you got back to the room.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, first thing.” Jimin promised and you blinked tiredly at him, a lazy smile stretched across your lips as you looked at what was now yours. Park Jimin was yours to wake up with and kiss and hold. Little did you know, Jimin was going through the same thoughts in his own mind, looking at you like you were his stars and his whole world.

“Baby girl?” You hummed but didn’t make eye contact, focused on fixing the places on your clothes that Jimin tugged on as you kissed earlier. “I know I never formally asked you so,” Jimin kneeled by your bed, much like he was actually proposing to you. Your eyes widened at the sight, heartrate picking up significantly. “Would you do me the honors of being my girlfriend?”

“You fucking loser, of course.” You hid your face in his neck and he smiled, his eyes hidden by the fat in his cheeks. His face was glowing with the moonlight from your window along with the rose blush that creeped over his cheeks, but nothing compared to the warm hue you got from his smile. He mouthed ‘thank you’ and you responded by sealing your lips over his, happy to have been the one to put that smile on his face.

The door was thrown open and the two of you snap over to see Yuju in the doorway, hand covering her eyes. She peeked in between her fingers and smirked.

“Are you two decent? If not, I expect a full floor show!”

“Yuju, we just kissed a little.” Yuju frowned and tsk’d at the two of you, stripping her robe off and sitting on the edge of her bed as she toed off her shoes.

“God, you two are so boring. Poor Jimin here has been trying to get his dick wet for months and you’re still holding out on him.” You hissed your roommate’s name and both Jimin and her shared cackling giggles, the fist bump the two of them exchanged made you get up and show Jimin the door.

“Good night, love.”

“Good night, Jimin.”

“Really? He calls you ‘love’ and you just say his name? Get creative, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, not one to back down from a challenge.

“Good night, peaches.”

“Peaches?! Is that a play on his ass? I need to know these things, Y/N!” The door was shut and all Jimin could hear were the muffled exclamations of Yuju as your voiced droned on in the background, probably telling her to calm down. Jimin smiled to himself and huffed a small laugh, incredulous that he could be this lucky to be with you.

“Hey, Y/N, you know, you never told me what you did for Professor Jung’s project!” Yuju changed into her pajamas as you settled into you bed, exhaustion already creeping over your body.

You froze, not knowing how much to tell Yuju. Would it be easier to lie through your teeth and simply say you didn’t do it? No, you couldn’t because she’d seen you diligently working on it the past couple of days, and she knew you well enough that you weren’t the type to just not do things.

“It was hard, huh? I was wracking my brain for days until I finally figured something out. Yerin helped, did you know?” You shook your head as Yuju continued, fixing her hair into a loose bun and wiping away the remnants of her makeup in the vanity. “I wasn’t sure on an idea until I saw her and something just clicked.”

“What’dya mean?” You took your place next to her, reaching for some skin care products and following suit in your own routine.

She hummed, tapping her pursed lips for a moment.

“Well I’d been stewing over a couple of concepts but when she and I—pre-relationship—were studying in the library one day, the idea just kinda hit me. She was talking about how tough it was to paint her nails, how she wished someone would just do it for her every time without having to pay for a salon visit. While I was dying to tell her I’d be honored to hold her hand for extended periods of time, I remembered I’m pretty shit at painting nails too. So then I thought, ‘what about a potion that only changed the color of one’s nails?’” Yuju stopped to dab some lotion over her cheeks, rubbing it in a circular motion.

“My whole endgame was to have her head over heels for me out of thankfulness so I went through with it. I was gonna surprise her with it after the presentation tomorrow, so she could have her nails all pretty for the formal. Turns out, with your advice, I didn’t need some potion to bring us together after all. But the idea was still grand, and I still plan on surprising her with it. To commemorate our coming together.” Yuju beamed, and you sat and smiled at the purity of her adoration for the blonde female.

“Wow,” Pausing for a moment to spread a cream onto the more troublesome spots of your face, “That’s so adorable, Yuju. I never knew you had it in you.”

“I won’t take offense to that, mainly because I’m just too excited about it tomorrow. There’s nothing more meaningful than showing your significant other how much you’ve thought about them. I can’t even look at a bottle of nail polish without having her pretty smile and bright eyes creeping into my mind. Yuju sighed lovingly as she finished in front of the mirror, nearly leaping into her bed before announcing she was going to sleep.

‘Going to sleep’ meaning she was going to stare at her illuminated phone screen for approximately an hour, mindlessly scrolling social media sites and texting back gross, lovey-dovey messages to her girlfriend who is undoubtedly in the same position as her.

As you prepared to head to bed as well, going as far as getting comfortably situated under your sheets without worry about charging your phone or forgetting something since it was all already done, you couldn’t stop your eyes from shooting open as you gnawed on your lower lip. You mind was rampant with thoughts, ones that you just couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried all day. Thoughts of the project and your grade and Jimin Jimin Jimin; it was insatiable to the point where you wondered if this was even healthy. Even in the ugliest, fattest parts of your slowly growing crush on the boy, you still never were kept up with thoughts of him for long.

Granted, you were thinking of other things but it all always came back to Jimin—how it affected him and the two of you, if it mattered to him as much as it did to you.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself still distractingly awake at the slim hours of the morning, minutes crawling by at a snail’s pace as you tried everything known to man to naturally make yourself succumb to slumber. It was all a futile effort, even the barest of second when your eyelids began to droop and your heartrate slowed, all it took was one single thought to begin a whole train; derailing any hint of sleep coming your way.

You cursed your pillow, the damn thing smelled of Jimin and his oak-y sweet scent. His natural musk tangled with the soft mists he liked to spray on his shirts, for the sole reason to drive you mad. You had half a mind to toss the damn thing out the window and sleep on the rugged floor, if to at least escape the traitorous smells that swirled in front of your nose tantalizingly.

Was this how Jimin felt every time he spoke hushed murmurs of your peach scent? Something you had no idea was tied with yourself yet it was something Jimin’s innate nose picked up and associated with you in a heartbeat.

Peaches.

Peach blossoms.

The tree; the petals swirling down slowly, dragging through the air and landing softly amongst Jimin and yourself. Tiny Jimin with a head of pink, petal hair.

Your breath caught in your throat and you all but threw yourself into a standing position, roughly pushing your hair out of your face as you scrambled to put yourself together. Yuju eyed you curiously from where she lay, having been woken up by your sudden movement. She was clearly too drowsy however, not commenting at you shoving your feet into two different shoes and barely shrugging on a jacket over your pajamas.

It was well too late past curfew but you certainly didn’t care, ignoring the biting morning chill and the risk of getting some form of punishment—probably cleaning owl cages or magical stains out of the student body’s robes for a week—because this was too important to you, Jimin be damned.

The library was surprisingly easy to sneak into, you’re guessing it was because what nerd would sneak into a library?

That was where you spent the rest of the night into the blurring morning when sunlight began to flitter through the large paneled windows, making you squint less and less as the darkness ebbed away.

One cryptic text to Jimin later, you were off to the laboratory where you’d reside until thirty minutes prior to Professor Jung’s class, when you return to your bedroom a hollow shell of who you were the day before. Exhaustion hung off you but you had too much fire alight in your bones to keep you from collapsing right then in there. You had to grab your clothes, head off for a quick shower and return in time for class, the most important class.

Jimin of course responded to the very vague message from you with a litany of question marks and queries, a constant slew of vibrations from your pocket distracting you throughout the day to the point of turning the damn phone off. Sure, it was sort of mean because Jimin at least deserved the dignity and respect of a response but you couldn’t wane your focus for even a second, for chance of losing progress.

It was just a few minutes until the class was due to start, thoughts furiously fighting for dominance in your mind but only the next hour would take priority, for once you were both anxious and thrilled for a project presentation. Usually you just mulled over the usual fears of most students: choking, messing up, not being prepared or losing your pants while in front of dozens of students. But this time, your fears were much bigger, darker but your anticipation overcame each and every one of them. You’d perfected your formula, tested it a multitude of times and your evidence was spot on.

It was all going to go swimmingly, it had to.

You snuck past the shutting door of Jung’s classroom, just a breath shy of late as the bell chimed. Keeping your head down, you slid into your seat and the professor began to explain how presentations were going to go, giving the option for those who wanted to volunteer to go first and then after all volunteers were cleared out, he’d begin to go from alphabetical order.

Despite trying to keep your thoughts even and mind clear of distractions, it was a traitorous thing that just needed an eyeful of your boyfriend, like a gulp of heady air after being submerged underwater for far too long. So you snuck a glance, just a tiny one. But it was long enough that Jimin was able to catch you, hold you with a single gaze as his lips formed around a couple of words, ones you prided in being able to inaudibly read.

The pink of his mouth told you: hey

You managed a small wave, anxiety starting to render your limbs useless as you felt the blood rushing out and leaving them numb.

Jimin picks up his phone, gesturing to the bright screen: the text?

This you had no response to, other than to mouth exactly what you’d texted him around seven-forty that morning:

You [7:43 AM]: do you trust me?

To which Jimin had of course sent a slew of ways to say yes, undeniably and irrevocably head over heels with you in such a way that you could tell him to dangle off the grand staircase in the common’s chambers and he’d do it without hesitation.

As you mouthed the words to him, Jimin nodded dumbly but his eyebrows were furrowed in such a way you wanted to chastise him for, not wanting him to form wrinkles and lines on his pretty, pretty face. Just trust me, was all you could leave him with, as Jung chose the first volunteer with their hand shot up like a beacon to showcase that they were beyond prepared.

One by one, students shared their findings and experiments. From one kid turning a male rat into a female one, another having come up with a potion to hide a person’s natural blush, you found yours to be more and more comforting. Not only had it come from the heart, red with a burning passion, but it was also significantly more original than that of your peers. It was out of the box, both creative and a huge risk because it was just so not textbook.

“Alright, who wants to go next?”

You couldn’t hold back any longer, needing this off your chest for fear of it bursting straight through and announcing itself without so much as a little grace.

“Great, Y/N come on down and share with us your experiment. Did you bring a sample to show the results to the class or do you need me to put up a video?” Jimin’s head cocked straight to you, wondering why you were willingly going to present if you had nothing to show for it. You simply motioned for him to calm down, the words still ringing in his head.

Trust me.

“I have something prepared, no video needed.” Professor Jung smiled and nodded, leaning back onto his desk to rest. His arms were crossed but his face was peaked, clearly interested in how confidently you were coming down to the front of the class, despite the clear nerves displayed in your face.

“So, I think I should begin with a little preface. We are all people, that unfortunate as it ma ybe, are critical of ourselves,” You started out strong, the class listening and nodding along as you spoke. It was going well so far. “We stand in front of mirrors and beg for them to change, for our noses to size down or our waists to get slimmer. We poke and prod at our skin and hair and appearance so much because we just want to look like the people we see on magazines, on TV. We want to be the ‘perfect person’, if at least for yourself.” At this point, just about everyone had their eyes on you, even the burnouts and bored slackers who usually have their heads down or eyes shut.

It seemed that this was a rather touchy subject, personal enough for everyone to be able to relate to at least once in their lives. Yuju and Yerin were smack dab in the middle of the crowd, encouraging smiles on you much like proud mothers. Though they had no idea what you were going to present, they were ready to support you wholeheartedly.

“What we don’t realize,” One glance at Jimin, who’s eyes gleamed as they met yours. “We’re already perfect. To someone—whether you realize it or not—you’re perfect. You may not have the most in-shape body, your eyes may have bags underneath or your hands just feel too small to you, too inadequate. Know that there is most certainly someone who loves you for you, even if that person is yourself.”

“Excuse me, but how does this relate to a potion project, Y/N?” Professor Jung interjected, a single brow quirked.

“It’s relevant, I promise.”

“Then proceed.”

You cleared your throat, approaching where you’d set up your potion, ready to use.

“I was originally going to make a potion to basically change your features how you saw fit, basically plastic surgery on a budget.” The class laughed, mood lightened significantly. “But, after some very interesting revelations by some of the most unexpected of friends, I realized that not only was that terribly unoriginal, but it was wrong. I wanted to give people the tool to change who they were, to give myself that tool. For hopes that I could change for someone, something I’d wanted. After quite an incident,” Jimin’s lips quirked up in a knowing smile, a secret between the two of you.

“I realized that I never needed to change, I just needed a new look on an already beautiful picture. I needed to tear off the blind goggles that have been strapped on since I was young, to finally see that the sun shone on me every day. It took a damn tree to tell me that I didn’t need to make myself into a different person. That they didn’t have to be a different person. They just needed something to finally show me that, and what did was a beautiful flower.”

You outstretched a picture you’d quickly snapped and printed out, of the peach blossom tree on the school grounds.

“I’m sure plenty of you have seen this tree, how beautiful it looks just at the prime of bloom.”

A jeer shouted from somewhere in the back, the voice deep but not husky enough to be threatening. “Yeah but it’s ugly as hell every other day.”

“Precisely. That tree inspired me, among some other variables. We are not beautiful people every minute of every day; we all wake up with boogers in our eyes and morning breath rancid on our tongues. We are capable of being our best and our worst, but we only seem to dwell on the worst.”

“Y/N, the potion please? We don’t have all day,” Professor Jung motioned with his hands, looking a little too exasperated for your liking. With a rapt nod, you continued.

“We don’t need to change ourselves to be someone else, to look like they do. Instead, we need to follow in the eyes of the tree and be the most beautiful part of ourselves. We need to make ourselves bloom.”

And with that you rose your potion, showing off its shimmery color. It was like mercury, with a rosier tint. With your eyes on Jimin, you finished your phrase and left him frozen and mouth agape.

“A very important person once told me that actions speak louder than words, so let me show you what I mean. I’ll need a volunteer to demonstrate: Jimin, would you so kindly help me out?” One look at his expression—along with the rest of the class turning in their seats to look at him—you tacked on some puppy dog eyes and hoped he’d remember your text. “Please?”

He nodded and slowly rose from his seat, anxious no doubt. As he wiped his now sweaty palms on the front of his tight blue jeans, he made his way to the front of the class.

Under his breath, he tried to smile to the students while simultaneously trying to save his skin.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He hissed, eyes wide while you hadn’t ever felt so at ease. You simply patted his shoulder and motioned to the beaker of solution. You made a show of pouring it into a glass, the shimmery fluid slinking in much like a snake. It looked thicker than water, thinner than a malt. It still looked wildly unappetizing to Jimin but he swallowed his pride and remembered how you’d asked him to trust you, though this truly felt like a stretch.

This could easily be a repeat of a couple of days ago, or worse.

“Now, Jimin will drink the potion and you’ll see what I’ve concocted.” Your eyes softened on Jimin and for a second you swore he held his breath, before relenting and reaching for the glass. A little shake of the contents inside along with a sniff—always the fragrant type—preceded his lips finally touching the glass, the contact causing the slightly chilly chalice to fog up from the heat of his now open mouth. He downed it all in one go, begrudgingly not enjoying how the thick solution seemed to crawl down his throat but the taste was virtually non-existent, minus some small hint of the scent mixing in.

The whole class waited with bated breath, eyes scanning all over Jimin after he drank. Some watched his face, others his body.

When nothing occurred in the first minute, someone called out that it was a dud. Someone else pointed out that it was a whole poetic display, that nothing is going to change on him because he’s already “someone’s perfect”. While enlightening, it wasn’t entirely true.

“Look!” Yerin pointed at Jimin’s scalp, where a lone petal emerged from his tousled blond locks and dislodged itself, dappling down where Jimin’s went cross eyed keeping track of it, opening his palm to cradle it.

“Woah…” Jimin eyed the petal, a pale pink much like the ones from the peach blossom tree. But that wasn’t it.

Once the first began, the rest seemed to follow. More petals peeked through and slowly cascaded as Jimin shook his head more, not realizing his golden hair was now blending into a peach pink.

“Jimin! Your hair, it’s pink!” Yuju pointed out, Jimin instantly reaching for his phone to open up the front facing camera, eyeing his new dye-job curiously. His face was utter awe, fingers softly petting his head of hair, as if it were to shy away if he were to give it any harsher of a treatment.

“Y/N, what—how—when?” Jimin stammered, looking at you in both utter disbelief and complete pride, having some feeling inside him somewhere that you’d pull through; because it was you.

Professor Jung stood from where he leaned to come closer and inspect Jimin, his mouth broken out in a wide grin.

“This is remarkable! Truly inspired, and completely one-of-a-kind. The speech behind it shows you had true motives as well, such wonderful intentions and even more astounding results!” Jung gave you a thumbs up, collecting your paperwork to inspect further later for your evidence.

“Is this temporary?” Jimin asked, though his eyes weren’t on you as he pulled a longer strand past his forehead to inspect further. You nodded and explained how it only lasted twenty-four hours after the initial drink unless the reversal is taken beforehand. The petals kept sneaking out, though there were considerably less than when they first appeared. They were like accessories—accentuating the golden skin and pearl white smile of Jimin, making his cocoa eyes pop that much more. It seemed like his blush matched the color to a T, making his pink look like it suited him perfectly.

You thought so.

“Excellent job Miss Y/N, you should pass with flying colors!” You were elated, as was Jimin. So much so that Jimin forewent any thought and pulled you in for what you thought would be an enthusiastic hug until you felt his lips press against yours, the class letting out cheers, whoops and whistles. You pulled away, eyes wide and face hot and Professor Jung tells you two to wrap it up and find your seats

After returning to your seats, Jimin toying with his hair longer and letting those around him poke, prod and pet as they pleased, Professor Jung resumed class as normal. No one else after that really stood out, in a positive way at least. The others paled in comparison, being basic or uninspired. Nothing quite like yours, it seemed.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you forgot that you’d turned it back on, having selfishly checked the other messages Jimin had sent you just prior to your presentation; a temptation you couldn’t resist. One you hadn’t regretted because seeing his several heart emojis, a pouty selfie and a meme of a celebrity with a photoshopped sign in their hands had made you feel so much more ready for your presentation. Seeing his pure adoration towards you confirmed that this had been the right choice, something that had to be done.

Chim Chim [11:37 AM]: where tf did that come from?! :O

You giggled, knowing Jimin would have some questions.

You [11:37 AM]: I told you to trust me, do you regret it?

Chim Chim [11:38 AM]: OFC NOT

Chim Chim [11:38 AM]: you always blow my mind idk how you do it but you do

You [11:38 AM]: Flattery will get you everywhere Park ;)

Chim Chim [11:39 AM]: including to the formal, with you on my arm I hope?

You [11:39 AM]: I’d be honored ♡

You were going to put your phone away, save the rest of the conversation to be verbal after class but one last vibration had peaked your curiosity, having the pull to at the very least check the message before putting your phone away completely.

Chim Chim [11:40 AM]: peach blossoms, huh?

Chim Chim [11:40 AM]: nice touch baby ( ^ 8 ^ )

Those little ducky emotes always had you smiling, finding them both ridiculous and endearing. It was one of the things that made you realize how whipped you were for Park Jimin and all his antics.

○ ◐ ●

“Why aren’t you drinking it now?” You nudged Jimin, his socked toe digging into the carpet of your room thoughtfully.

“Because… I like the color. It’s nice, plus I smell really good. Gotta entice the ladies somehow,” Jimin smirked and you pushed him completely off your bed, his form curling up in a fit of giggles. A few kicks to him—ones that weren’t meant to hurt, of course—only made him laugh harder. You pouted and crossed your arms sitting back down on your bed.

“Oh c’mon babe, you know I’m kidding.” Jimin tried to coo at you, but every time he approached a side of you, you’d turn the other way and deepen your pout. “Baaaaaaaaabe,” He drew out the word, still fighting to make eye contact with you. “You’re the only one for me, always have been.”

You muttered under your breath, “Shut up you cheeseball,”

“That’s my girl. Can I get a smile? Pretty please?” After no response, Jimin only served to poke and prod further. “I let you shrink me and force me to sleep where you keep your vibrator, I think I deserve at least a smile.”

“Oh fuck right off Park, you’re never gonna let me live any of that down, are you?” It wasn’t intended to have bite behind it but the words seemed a little packed, like you had some hidden feelings that you tamped down to mask your unease with the topic.

“Y/N, baby, I forgive you for everything that happened over this week. I know none of it was on purpose and you did a really good job of keeping me safe and hidden all that time, turning me back quickly and effectively. I’m just playing around, I promise.” Jimin held out his smaller-than-normal pinky and you fought a smile as you interlocked it with your own, unable to resist a good pinky swear with Jimin even if you tried.

“Kiss me?”

Not like you could resist that either, especially not when the words were paired with such warm, chocolatey eyes that had a certain wet shine to them.

“Besides,” Jimin licked his lips, chasing after the remnants of your lip palm that transferred onto his mouth. “I always wondered what your toys looked like; always thought you’d be the freaky type with a ten inch dildo or something, to be honest.” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and smacked him on the top of his head, making him duck down and rub at where you hit. His pout pursed and you knew he was trying to make you feel guilty so you looked away, knowing better than to fall victim to those tempting brown eyes of his.

“So, what time should I pick you up for the formal?” Jimin made himself comfortable in your bed after finally rubbing away the pain; something that was nothing new for as long as you’d known Jimin, platonically or romantically.

“Mmm, how about we just meet there?”

“Isn’t that bad practice? It’s the ‘gentlemanly way’ to pick up a date at their door.” You snuggled up to Jimin’s chest, listening to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat coupled with his breathing.

“Not necessarily. It’s not like you’re picking me up from my parent’s house, unless you’d consider Yuju my mom or something.”

“I feel like she’s your dad. Something tells me she’d be the type to wait on her bed with a shotgun in her hands, telling me not to hurt you or else.”

You shuddered, Jimin’s description a little too uncanny.

“I believe that, one hundred percent.”

Jimin kissed you breathless for the umpteenth time, making your heart beat so hard against your chest you swore you felt your ribcage start to bruise.

○ ◐ ●

“Y/N! I need you to tell me how I look!” Yuju screamed at the top of her lungs, readjusting her dress to support her chest better. She fiddled with her necklace and toyed with her earrings, an anxious action meant to ease some tension but only made her more critical of herself in the mirror, eyebrows scrunched together in frustration. Yuju wanted—no, needed—everything to be perfect, to go as smooth as possible.

As if you weren’t a ball of tense nerves yourself, coiled tighter than a defensive boa constrictor. The last thing on your mind was how Yuju looked, despite it sounding so harsh, you really were anxious about the night. There was so much riding on tonight, even though Jimin kept insisting it wasn’t such a big deal, you were an old-fashioned sap. You wanted to look the part, act the part and have the night go wonderfully.

Though that last part would happen seamlessly thanks to Jimin, he always made things go well.

“Yuju, I promise you, you look drop-dead gorgeous.” You shouted from the closet, tossing about things.

Unfortunately, being so wrapped up in Jimin and the project, you had failed to prepare beforehand for the formal. All you had on hand were simple sundresses, nothing of value in the eyes of an event such as tonight. Not only was it not up to your standards, but you’re sure none of the chaperones would allow you inside the Grand Hall wearing Hawaiian flowers and sandals.

Yuju peeked into the closet, watching you curiously as you groaned out loud. There was nothing—absolutely nothing—for you to wear, the fact leaving you as hopeless as you were frustrated.

“Girl, what the fuck are you doing in here? Your dress is hanging off the curtain rack?” Dress? What dress? You voiced this query to Yuju who simply stepped out of the way and pointed where the curtain billowed, a black garment bag dangling from a hanger. Why hadn’t you noticed that before? And where the hell did that come from?

“Did you not know about that? It was sent to the room earlier, I had to sign for it and everything! I wanted to take a peek but there was a note that said I would get rats in my bed if I did so… I guess Park prepared for the worst, huh?”

“Park? Wait, Jimin sent me a dress? Me?”

“Um, you are his girlfriend? Figured it was a gift, I thought you knew about it, honestly.”

You shook your head, still dumbfounded as you slowly stepped towards the outfit. You touched the bag gently, afraid that it might disappear in a flurry of butterflies or something, a figment of your imagination. At the top, where the shiny zipper lay, was the aforementioned note, tacked and marked with a heart and your name in swirly script. There’s no way Jimin wrote that, he’d had to have found someone with calligraphy skills to have done that.

The off-white parchment opened with ease, revealing a small litany of words that strung together to make you smile unconsciously.

It read:

“My dearest,

Okay even I know that was over the top, so here’s the low down babe:

I’m beyond blessed to have you—my meme friend, my partner in crime and porn—accompanying me to the spring formal. I know you’ve been pretty fucking busy and your mind has been clouded with your insatiable lust for me, so I thought I’d take pity on you and get you something equally as gorgeous as you to wear. If only to make me look good too, of course.

I know this wasn’t an easy feat, but hopefully you love it all. I had a friend help me pick out sizes so everything should fit. I can’t wait to see you shaking that thang on the floor.

Love, Jimin (The best boyfriend since Romeo—minus all the death and stuff.)”

God, was that an eyesore or what? You giggled at Jimin’s ability to try and sound corny and loving all while keeping his lecherous reputation. You had to give it to him, he did a pretty good job at making your heart do quite a few leaps, coupled with some good laughs of course.

Turning the paper, you see the note clearly meant for Yuju and you snickered, knowing that Jimin was too soft to even think about pulling a prank so elaborate.

Finally succumbing to your curiosity, you reached for the zipper and pulled it down slowly, each tooth snagging with a click as it dragged down the seemingly endless track.

“Hurry the fuck up and open it already! I’ve been dying since this afternoon!” Yuju jumped impatiently in place, the motion forcing her to readjust her dress once more around her bust. Damn strapless dresses and their non-existent boob support.

You huffed in annoyance at your roommate but continued nonetheless, watching the bag give with the zipper now open. It revealed a gorgeous ink-black dress, adored with white rhinestones mimicking diamonds all across from one shoulder down the underside of the breast. It was one-shouldered, the rhinestone path shaped like flowers wrapping all the way around to peek out the other side, mirroring where it led away from the other breast.

As you tugged out the dress from the bag to expose the rest of it, your mouth only gaped wider. It was floor length, the entirety of it just as dark as the top. No more rhinestones appeared, the only decoration being at the bust. It kept it tasteful and balanced, as the risqué slit up one side where your leg would be revealed would combat the jeweled look from your torso.

“Jimin, holy shit—” You whispered, in awe that Jimin had picked out such a gorgeous dress, no doubt on short notice. How he paid for it or even found something to be delivered by today was beyond you, something you’d have to ask him later on for sure.

On the floor underneath the bag was a black shoebox, on top of it lay a purse detailed much like the top of your dress with clear, white jewels. You pulled on the silver chain of it to pick it up, inspecting the small bag for a moment with glittery eyes before moving onto the box, mind already blown and yet there was more. The shoes were just as glamorous, if not more so. They were silver, strapped and at a slight incline as the heel was neither too short nor too tall, so that when you were them the dress wouldn’t drag too much but you weren’t damned to walk around like a newborn fawn on wobbly legs trying to manage stilettos.

“Damn Park, you sure know how to go all out. Why didn’t I think to do this for Yerin? I would’ve gotten major points in bed, she might’ve even gone down on m—”

“I don’t need to hear the rest of that sentence!” You hushed your roommate to which she snickered, going back to adjusting her makeup in the mirror. While you continued to inspect the outfit, Yuju spoke up once more.

“I’d get dressed soon, Y/N. The dance starts in an hour and you wouldn’t want to be late for Prince Charming now, would you?” The thought made you gnaw at your lip in worry, thinking about how you’d have to strut out in this amazing dress. You really didn’t think you could pull off such an ensemble, the entire thing billowing with grace and beauty—more so than you thought you could ever muster. “Quit stewing in your self-doubt, you’re hot as hell and you’re gonna look even hotter in all that. You’ll have all the boys quaking in their rental tuxes and Jimin wetting himself in his.” Yuju smirked at you and you thanked whatever higher power out there for her humor, settling your restless stomach for a good minute.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and made a move to get undressed, having already showered earlier before coming back to get dressed.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” You looked over, only clad in your undergarments, to meet Yuju’s eyes, her finger pointed at your choice of underwear. “Aren’t you trying to get laid? You gotta wear something sexier, I’m sure you’ve got some lingerie hidden in that drawer, right Y/N?”

Face heating up, you instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, though you know you two had seen each other in your skivvies before so it wasn’t that fact that had you feeling self-conscious. Instead, it was your roommate trying to dictate your delicates, assuming that Jimin would catch sight of them at some point tonight.

“Oh I know!” Yuju lunged—as best as she could in her own pair of heels—for your dresser, tugging open the top drawer and sifting through your clothes. You scoffed at her inability to give you privacy, to which she raised the black smooth toy and bucked an eyebrow at you, prompting you to shut your mouth tight much to her pleasure. “Wear this!” She held open a pair of pink lacy panties, the sight of which made you squeal in embarrassment.

“Yuju!” You charged for it to snatch out of her hands but she kept it from your reach, teasing you. “I am not wearing that! Besides, I have nothing that’d match it so ha!”

Yuju’s prideful smirk stayed put on her face, if not deepening more so.

“Precisely, you’re not supposed to wear anything else. Not with that dress, you’ve got an exposed shoulder! If you wore a normal bra, you’d see the strap and it’d ruin the style.”

You held your chest in horror, the idea of going bra-less out in public, much less to a formal event, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Oh calm down, stop being a goody-two-shoes. The dress will give you enough support and it has some padding, so no one will even know. If anyone even cares that much, you can easily say you’re wearing a strapless bra.” The whole idea still felt really risky, especially thinking about how you’ll probably be pressed up against Jimin, slow dancing and swaying gently across the floor. It would turn a pure moment into one of embarrassment; what if he felt your nipples through the dress? Would he comment on it, all flirty and cocky like usual or would he feel just as embarrassed?

“Tick-tock, sweetheart. Get dressed, I’m leaving your ass to walk alone to the Hall if you’re not ready in time.”

At her words, you sprang into action, following Yuju’s instructions and taking off your bra, slipping into the lace underwear and pulling the dress on over. You made sure to apply enough deodorant and perfume to the point where you swore you had a cloud of fragrance following you everywhere, the coughs that Yuju would fake as you swept passed only made you think that further.

After styling your hair and doing your makeup, you looked at yourself in the mirror, outfit in full yet still feeling… empty? Like it was missing something, a key component to tie everything together in a neat little bow.

Yuju went to hand you the purse Jimin included in the care package when you voiced this, saying that it was probably because you weren’t bearing the bag. Swinging into onto your shoulder, it did make the outfit look nice but you still grimaced, feeling incomplete. When you patted at the bag, you felt an odd bump inside. The opening snapped and you peered inside, finding something strange.

There was a neat little square box, clashing with the black silken lining of the purse as its stark white exterior nearly gleamed in your bedroom’s lighting. You inspected it curiously, Yuju peeking over your shoulder in just as much awe as yourself. When you pulled open the box, the top rearing back on its hinges, your jaw nearly dropped.

Nestled inside some dark crushed velvet was a set of earrings and a necklace to match.

It was simple, nothing too loud but still gorgeous nonetheless. Studs that matched the ones on your dress and purse and shoes, the light catching them in every direction. The necklace matched it, a silver chain holding together the strings of white stones. The only distinct difference was the piece in the middle, the center of the cascading gems.

Pink.

A pink diamond—or five of them to be exact—expertly arranged in the shape of a flower. A peach blossom, you noticed. The center was another white diamond, all six of the jewels clearly the real deal. They weren’t cubic zirconium or falsified diamonds with the aid of unicorn horns and fairy dust pulverized together; no, the shine alone told you that Jimin had actually paid to custom create you a diamond necklace.

How in the holy hell could Jimin afford such a piece? And on such short notice?

“Put it on! It’s exactly what your outfit needed,” Yuju reached for the necklace, wanting to clasp it around your neck herself. As she did, you took the opportunity to put in the earrings, eyes constantly catching the pink formation that now lay perfectly in between your clavicles. “Wow, Y/N, it’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, I think everyone’s eyes are gonna be on you tonight. Jimin’s gonna have some stiff competition, that’s for sure.”

You were breathless, speechless as you couldn’t help but look at your reflection.

“Time to go, princess. Your prince is waiting, as is my queen.”

“Hey wait, why is Jimin a prince and Yerin a queen?” You shouted, snapping out of your reverie to return to the usual bicker and banter with your roommate.

“Because I said so! Now c’mon, get your heinie in gear!”

Out the door the two of you went, and behind you, a trail of perfume—smelling of peaches and freshly blossomed flowers in the early spring morning.

○ ◐ ●

“Jimin, please stop pacing. You’re making Hobi anxious.” Taehyung bellowed with his unfairly deep voice, fixing the lapels of his suit jacket in the reflective surface of one of the pillars outside the Grand Hall.

Inside, music was already booming. The night was starting with some common pop hits to get the students pumped, though it was already common knowledge that at some point the tempo will slow down for couples to dance together as if it was a real ball.

“Hoseok can suck it up, he’s been to like, twelve of these,” Yoongi hissed from where he sat on a marbled bench, stare never leaving his phone as he held it far too close to his eyes to be healthy. Hoseok next to him gently pushed it down closer to Yoongi’s lap, trying to preserve the inky haired boy’s eyesight for a little while longer.

Jimin lapped to the end of the corridor once more, nervously chewing on his plump lower lip; he swore he’d been sweating bullets from the minute he woke up this morning. So much to do in such little time, having only a half day to get all the goods in order for the following day after you’d made your presentation.

“Pink’s a good look for you Chim, she’s gonna love it.” Hoseok tried to lighten the air, knowing Jimin was seriously freaking about all the things that had to go right today. Unfortunately, the compliment flew right over his head as he thought about all the variables, the things that could go wrong.

The dress might’ve not gotten to you—no wait, he saw online that it was signed for, so it most definitely arrived. But what if it didn’t fit? Or worse, what if you hated it? Jimin had Yerin’s help but there was only so much he could do without having you right there with him. He hoped all the years knowing you meant something as he’d made selections for your attire, down to the jewelry he had handpicked and had crafted at the last second. It all but drained his savings account, but he wanted this to be as special as you’d wished it to be.

A fairytale night, meant for his soulmate.

Taehyung stepped away after staring and winking at his reflection long enough to make Yoongi gag, followed by a lewd comment from the other boy about him doing just that the other night. It made Jimin shudder, already having been filled in enough about the three-way relationship Taehyung had been hiding with the other two upperclassmen.

He made eye contact with Jeongguk who arrived just a moment after, a girl on his arm. At the last second he scored a date with Seulgi, holding her close as she greeted the others with a warm smile. The red dress she had on hugged her curves and brought out her dark hair and eyes, perfectly matched with a lip color that popped.

“Don’t wait up boys, we’re gonna go party the night away.” Jeongguk smirked and sashayed away with a giggly Seulgi, the girl clearly excited to let loose for a small while. Seeing her made Jimin ramp up anxiously again, wringing his hands together as he wondered if you’d be as excited as her.

“Shouldn’t we be inside? What if Y/N is already there and you’re leaving her hanging?” Taehyung reached for Hoseok’s hand and pulled him to his feet, Yoongi following suit on his own. Jimin’s eyes widened in horror at the prospect, your poor beautiful self, standing there all alone and having been waiting for him this whole time.

“Shut up Tae, Y/N’s not in there. She said she’d text when she was near because Jimin wanted to meet her out here, so they could walk in together. Stop trying to mess with his head just so you could get inside and get to dancing sooner.” Taehyung scratched at the back of his neck and apologized, making his way to Yoongi’s side to throw an arm over his shoulder, eyeing his phone and what he was doing on it. “When did she last text you, ‘Min?”

Jimin reached into his sequined suit jacket—the whole ensemble looking straight out of a celebrity’s closet; yet another hit to his bank account—and pulled out his sleek black phone, the screen illuminating with the change of brightness to indicate it’d been taken out of hiding. The time read eight-fifteen, the formal having just begun. His eyes bulged at the sight of a text from you still glowing on the home screen, indicating he hadn’t read it yet. It was sent just a minute ago, the text telling him that you were rounding the corner now, and would be there in just a second.

“Fuck, she’s coming! Get the hell out of here!” Jimin shooed his friends, Yoongi shrugging with indifference and taking himself to the doors while Taehyung and Hoseok looked more affronted.

“All this work with us helping you and you kick us out? Why can’t we stay?” Taehyung pouted, matched with Hoseok’s own. The dual puppy eyes would usually work on Jimin but tonight he was not having any of it. There was too much on his mind to be derailed from his goal all because of four too-wide, too-wet hazel eyes.

“No, get out! I can hear someone coming, please just go!” Hoseok whined but ultimately reached and tugged a non-complacent Taehyung, opening the Hall’s doors to let the loud music trickle into the corridor before it became muffled as the door shut behind the trio.

The sound of heels clicking down the tile lined floors got louder, amongst some high pitched chattering. Jimin could clearly hear your voice, identifiable to him like his own heartbeat in his ears, accompanied by two other females. Yerin and Yuju, Jimin thought.

“I’m telling you, I saw Min Yoongi kissing him! I thought it was a mirage until Hwasa started squealing about it too; I hadn’t been the only one to see it!” Yerin chittered cheerfully, smile wide on her face as Yuju looked on with the deepest affection, her hand intertwined with Yerin’s own clearly manicured one. Thanks to Yuju’s potion.

You nodded along, not really listening to the conversation as your own pulse roared in your eardrums. Had you been paying attention, you could’ve divulged the details of finding Taehyung and Yoongi together, along with Hoseok. It would’ve surely made for good gossip, had you cared at the moment.

The walk down to the Grand Hall wasn’t much longer, the doors nearly in sight and you wanted to pull your phone from your purse—the one Jimin graciously gifted you—and bury your face in the apps and games you had, for fear of finding Jimin and making eye contact with him.

It was beyond bizarre, you thought, how in less than a week Jimin went from your pervy best friend whom knew too much about you to someone you were too nervous to even make eye contact with, a boy who wanted—and partially succeeded—to give you the stars in the sky, no longer afraid to say it without a lewd joke following to hide his motives.

“Well, he’s all yours Y/N. Have fun, use protection!” Yerin purred and you looked over at her in shock, mentioning how that was something you’d expected from Yuju and not herself. The pair giggled and held each other close as they walked past a frozen figure, eyeing him curiously before dipping past the doors. The music repeated its amplified sound before going nearly dead silent once the heavy door shut behind the two girls.

There you stood, eyes locked on Jimin.

Jimin in a shiny looking suit. Jimin with pink hair. Jimin, the boy that you’d fallen in love with, unbeknownst to you initially.

“Your hair…?” As ungraceful as it may have been, the first thing that came to your mind after it got over its initial shock induced stupor was that Jimin’s hair was still rosy pink, though the potion you created should’ve worn off by now. You’d seen Jimin drink the reversal, having left with his hair starting to fade and creep back to its platinum status.

“I may have taken your notes and made some more, for the aesthetic. Though instead of a nasty drink, I just made it into a spray. It doesn’t last as long but it makes less petals so I don’t make a mess everywhere and I can just reapply whenever,” Jimin produced a small rose tinted bottle from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, revealing the dark lining that matched the rest of your black ensemble.

“Wow, you look incredible.” Jimin’s eyes trailed all over your body, eyes resting on the necklace now nestled neatly onto your sternum. “I see everything got to you safely, and it all fit? I hope.”

You nodded, not really trusting words to form as you took in Jimin’s own appearance.

His suit jacket was eye-catching, while the rest of his outfit was fairly tame with a white flowy dress shirt, paired with dark black slacks and freshly shined loafers. He looked absolutely regal, almost unreal with the hair color making him look that much more like a fairytale character rather than a magic school student who liked to browse pornography websites on his downtime.

On his neck tied in a perfect bow was a white strip of silk, thick and opaque as it functioned as a fancy choker. On anyone else, it’d look bulky and strange but on Jimin it just made his features look that much more prince-like. Something or someone straight out of a high fashion magazine, more than just the regular black and white rented tuxedos with bowties that the majority of the male student body opted for tonight.

“I’m really glad to have you by my side tonight, Y/N. I know I said tonight wasn’t that big of a deal, but once I heard you could come, I couldn’t help but think of how I could make this the most magical night for you. No pun intended.” Jimin peeked up at his pink locks before suppressing a smile. “Okay, maybe a little of the pun intended.”

You giggled and felt all your nerves melt away, seeing the boy you’d come to love with time and growth. The boy you’d played in puddles with and sang long nights away at foreign beaches before your parents would huddle the two of you up in raggedy towels and take you back home.

“Shall we?” Jimin extended his arm and you glided forward, slipping your arm in the loop of his and at this close proximity, you could see his natural blush and the light bouncing off his cheeks and the tip of his nose; cupid’s bow highlighted like marble glistening off moonlight. “Take it all in baby, it’s all yours.” Jimin murmured, the words nearly lost in the low thrum of the bass against the Hall doors.

“Wait, Jimin.” You stopped in place, holding back Jimin from opening the doors and stepping inside the party. For a second, concern crossed Jimin’s features, thinking the worst and that you didn’t want to appear with him. That he’d done wrong somewhere in this meticulous equation and he’d screwed up not only tonight but your relationship together forever, as friends and as more.

“I just wanted to thank you. For everything. You’ve always been such a good friend and someone I could trust. You’re the shoulder I’d cry on and the friend to keep me from drunkenly sleeping with a guy just because he grazed my ass trying to reach for the booze.” Jimin thought back to that party, smiling subtlety at the fact that you’d remembered his kind gesture that one time. “I’ve had a lot of firsts with you, you’ve been a big part of my life and I’m really glad to still have you around. Not just for the free stuff and occasional ass squeezes,” The two of you shared a laugh.

“Just seeing all the effort you put in for tonight, after all the shit from this past week I put you through, makes me feel a sort of warmth I’ve never felt before. So thank you, Park Jimin, for making me feel this way. And for giving me the fairytale night I never knew I wanted so badly.” Jimin smiled softly before caressing your cheek, thumb running across the apple of your cheek where light makeup laid. He pulled you in gently, kissing you chastely and making your heart leap to your throat.

“Let’s dance, love.”

○ ◐ ●

Taehyung swung his arms around wildly and Yoongi looked on strangely before Hoseok held one of his hands so he could do the wave with him, the other reluctantly relenting and taking part in the ancient dance move before Taehyung linked himself on the other side and continued the dance chain. He’d never admit it, but Yoongi’s gummy smile came out to play on that dance floor, with a little coaxing from his so called “friends with benefits”.

The four of you looked on, laughing at the trio’s hijinks as you indulged in some of the formal’s refreshments. The dance had been thrilling so far, lots of high intensity songs to make you jump and dance your heart away, Jimin joining every step along the way. Sweat dotted his brow and you worried if your deodorant was strong enough to combat such a night as this one but you didn’t dwell on it long, Yerin pulling you into a conversation as you sipped on the fruit punch that you’re sure wasn’t tainted with. The earlier bowl had been disposed of quickly when a staff member saw a student looming precariously over it with a silver flask, clearly lacing it with something; whether it was for good fun or to harm a large population. Either way, he’d been escorted out and the drink replaced with a fresh bowl.

“So Jimin, how’d you afford all this stuff for tonight?” Yuju gestured to the two of your outfits, the question having gnawed at your mind for quite a little bit too. You turned to face Jimin, taking a drink of the punch as your eyebrows raised for him to answer. “Cause, I’m down for a sugar daddy, if you catch my drift.” Yerin looked scandalized and Yuju quickly retracted her statement at the sight of her face, telling her that Yerin was all she wanted, whether she had money or not.

“Sorry ladies, I’m a taken man.” Jimin’s grip tightened around your waist and you smiled, giving him a quick peck.

“That doesn’t answer the question though,” You pointed out, still wondering how Jimin could afford such an expensive shopping list at the last second. Jimin looked at you, trying to mentally communicate the words ‘don’t worry about it’ but you weren’t having it.

With a sigh, he relented.

“I’ve been saving up a lot of money. Hoping to get out of here with a good recommendation and find myself somewhere nice to live with a good job.” Jimin shrugged, as if it was no big deal. The motion caused a few of the minimal petals that poked out from under his hair to shuffle down, one landing on his shoulder and causing him to take the hand off your waist to brush it off.

“Jimin! You shouldn’t have wasted your hard earned money on me like that,” You chastised the boy, feeling nothing short of guilty for taking his money, and so much of it in so little time. You imagined how long it’d taken him to ramp up all that money, working odd jobs and selling things in hopes to save up just a little more, only to drain it all for one night.

“For you, it’s never being wasted.” Jimin smirked and you knew that smooth and smug motherfucker had your heart under lock and key, whether you liked it or not.

“Gross, could you take your love elsewhere?” Taehyung shoved himself unceremoniously in between Jimin and yourself, an actual wedge as he stuffed his face with finger sandwiches and downed two tiny cups of punch. You felt revolted at the sight and Jimin snaked around the hungry individual to pull you back to him, your hand on the middle of his chest, just inches from where his heart beat underneath.

Hoseok came to collect Taehyung, apologizing profusely for his manners or more like his very clear lack thereof. Yoongi even went as far to apologize for him too, though his version of ‘Sorry for Tae cockblocking you’ was a little more rugged than Hoseok’s.

Taking your eyes off the few around you, you looked over into the thrush of the dancefloor.

It was fairly packed, bodies jumping and grinding everywhere. You spotted Jeongguk with Seulgi up against him, coyly looking over her shoulder and through her pretty eyelashes, only enticing him further as he placed his hands on her hips. Nearby, Minhyuk was doing ‘the sprinkler’ with Jooheon in tow, their other friend Changkyun filming it all on his phone. It looked like maybe Snapchat, though from this distance it was hard to tell. You’d have to check everyone’s stories tonight to be sure. There was bound to be plenty videos, all about the formal, minus the few from friends that stayed in for a quieter night.

“I love this song, let’s dance!” Yerin and Yuju jumped into the heat of the crowd, tugging Jimin and yourself along for the ride. The trio of boys stayed behind as Taehyung continued to scarf down food, the other two standing by and idly talking, Yoongi trying to disguise how much his hand yearned to tangle with Hoseok’s own.

With a bright pop song, full of strong beats and electric synth runs, the four of you go wild. You swore you were going to lose your voice by how loud you belted out lyrics, Jimin hitting backup vocals while Yerin and Yuju work their own duet. It was a beautiful cacophony, a mess like no other. There were tons like you, all shouting and shaking, bodies in full movement against one another. Experienced or not, everyone’s feet were moving to the rhythm the DJ had set up, a resident student who had a knack for clipping and cutting music tracks together.

Hyungwon had his headphones on, bouncing to the heavy bass beat of the current song and playing looped snippets to give the song his own spin. The lights bobbed around and you’d catch glimpses of Jimin illuminated by streaks of greens, blues, reds and yellows. Sometimes the white strobes would start to flicker and everything felt like it was in slow motion, like your mind was running though clear honey and your movements dragged on with every thump of the music.

There were songs that had you all singing in place (‘What Do You Mean?’ was a hit), ones meant to throw yourself around (‘Clarity’ was made for that) and some that people just swayed with, letting themselves get lost in the electronic rhythm (‘Lean On’ left quite the impression).

Soon the music took a turn for the slower, everyone sweaty and panting, catching their breath. The girls in the shorter, cocktail style dresses enjoyed the cool air that breezed past their legs, while those with strapless ones were furiously tugging them up, the constant amount of motion from before having garnered a hell of a readjustment to keep themselves modest.

Hyungwon—known tonight as DJ H.ONE—told everyone to grab a partner and to enjoy some sweet tracks. It was slow R & B, of beautiful vocals and simmering bass that had everyone gentle on their feet. Heads were on shoulders, arms around waists, as people began to pair off to slow dance. Dates and couples were set, while those who were dancing in pods now had to do an awkward shuffle, either breaking off into pairs or submitting to seclusion off to the sides of the grand ballroom, to watch and envy those who held each other close.

Yoongi pulled out his phone and tried not to dwell on how Hoseok’s feet moved with the beat where he stood, how Taehyung drifted closer and rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder as if they were dancing already.

They were three, and you know what they say:

Three’s a crowd, and crowds weren’t meant to slow dance.

Your mind was elsewhere as Jimin’s hand cradled the small of your back. The cool, thin fabric of your dress made it so you could feel the warmth of Jimin’s palm, in all of its entirety. You had your arms draped around his shoulders, fingers nearly interlocked at the base of his neck, just fractions away from bumping noses. It worked out that Jimin was so compact, giving you no issue to hold him close as the two of you mimicked a row boat, slowly rocking and careening side to side, a gentle sway with the music.

Jimin lowered his face, bringing himself even closer and pressing up against you in ways that had you feelings chills despite nearly breaking a sweat from the proximity alone.

Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ began to play, low and droning from the speakers. You figured Jimin was nearing you to share a kiss but then he bypassed your face completely, moving close to whisper into you ear.

“Are you having fun?” As if that was even a question, you nodded and pulled back to switch with him, to reach his ear instead. Despite the song being slow, it didn’t stop it from being loud and Ed Sheeran’s singing wasn’t easy to overpower, even as close as you were to Jimin already.

“Thank you, I know I’m saying it a lot but—”

Jimin halted your train of thought, letting his hand hitch a little higher up to wrap the doughier part of your middle, where the last of your ribs lay. His lips were pressing dry against your exposed neck, his breathing heavy and despite not being audible, you still felt his body heaving the air as it puffed over your skin. It was chaste, a million words being branded into your skin instead of uttered into your ear. You knew that sometimes it was hard for Jimin to convey his feelings, why he always used the front of being a joker to mask his vulnerabilities, his humanity.

You used to find it charming but now that you’ve seen so much naked exposure of him, you’d grown to love the Jimin that was cheesy and quirky and so, so charming. You hadn’t lied when you said you loved both Jimin’s; being able to laugh and grow up with one and stand beside the other as you two realized that there’s more to your relationship than just jokes about asses and late night texts.

It was more than just the days where you two would tinker along the line, the boundaries of your friendship. Where you teetered between friends and more, too afraid to really go any further for fear of going too deep, too fast and falling victim to drowning.

His lips curved up your jawline, to your ear where he took a moment to tug on your earlobe, just a gentle nip meant to play. He huffed a laugh that blew air directly into your ear, making you curl in at the sensation. It tickled you and made the hairs at the nape of your neck stand but it was so completely, utterly Jimin that you could care less. It was funny, cute and awkward and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Jimin pulled back and you swore, amongst all the slowly flittering lights, his eyes were gleaming; wet almost. All you could do was press closer and kiss him on the lips that were on you just moments prior, the lips that had told you secrets and scandals and sweet nothings.

It felt like the dance lasted forever, just a constant one-two shuffle where you alternated threading your fingers in Jimin’s soft, pink hair and watching petals shake and settle, and leaning your head on his shoulder, letting him hum into your ear and make his own harmonies for the melodies that played in the background; the music nearly completely forgotten under the sound of the blood pumping in your ears and Jimin’s heart thumping against your own.

You’d pulled away, given him one last look and watched a singular petal cascade down, landing on his low-sloped button nose you were so jealous of. He went cross-eyed to look at it, the expression adorable and all you could think of was when he was tiny; vulnerable in your pocket and you’d taken care of him then. You wondered if you could continue to cradle the glass Jimin you held in your arms, afraid to break him or for him to cut you with hidden sharp edges.

But Jimin wasn’t glass or porcelain; he was pink-tinted marble, swirling with color and gleaming in the pale moonlight and reflecting even the warmest rays of sun.

He blew the petal away but you couldn’t help and reach for it, keeping it in your palm. Jimin watched you, taking the petal from you and pocketing it, as a reminder.

“Alright y’all, let’s get nasty!” A voice shouted, suspiciously male and suspiciously like a certain Taehyung before H.ONE started up with the fast tempo music, angry bass to combat the now heavy clashing bodies. What was once a peaceful sway now became a battlefield, every man for themselves as hungry eyes prowled for victims.

Jimin clutched onto you tightly as Rihanna came on loud, ‘Rude Boy’ giving plenty of people room to work with, body’s gyrating and grinding. It was no surprise to see Jeongguk plastered against Seulgi again, you weren’t sure if they had been slow dancing innocently before but they clearly left behind any inhibitions as they worked against one another.

There was twerking everywhere. Minhyuk and Changkyun doing it animatedly against the DJ Booth, upside down and right-side up, catching the attention of H.ONE. You swore you saw Yoongi even twerking a little bit, his smile out to play as Taehyung and Hoseok goaded him on for the few seconds it occured.

Jimin smirked at you and demonstrated his own ability, the plump roundness of his ass jumping and jiggling up and down with his movement. It was impressive, to say the least. He won a couple of smacks to his ass from you—and one random girl who thought she had the right to touch him, she got quite the earful from you—before the music began to go from rowdy to sensual.

It was slow, raunchy and low down; dirty and gritty. Just what hormonal teenagers needed to release some stress and tension, bodies rolling and lolling to the beat. Slow like molasses and dripping ice cream, it was sweet and sexy and thick. You could taste the tension in the air, palpable as breathing got heavier and less noise came from the crowd, giving H.ONE the opening to turn up his bass a little more.

It reverberated inside everyone’s bones, making them move that much harder against each other.

Jeongguk and Seulgi kept their game going, of how hard could they go at it while still clothed and in the public eye.

It was a train with the trio of boys, Taehyung pushing back against Yoongi and Hoseok at the very back—a caboose of sorts—leading the other two in the way he moved his hips like an expert, garnering several stares and glares: some jealous, some judgmental. Regardless, the boys hadn’t had a care in the world, even Yoongi who kept himself so tightly closeted. It seems like tonight was more than just the loss of inhibitions, it was the loss of cares and of defenses. Everyone was open and vulnerable out in the dancefloor, where visibility was minimal and eyes were kept on those who mattered.

You honestly didn’t expect any less when you spotted Yuju tugging Yerin close, face to face as they pushed their pelvises together. They let themselves move to their own rhythm, barely caring for the vocals and bass that easily could’ve guided their movements. They were lost in their own world, happy to have each other then and there.

Jimin brought you tight against him, pulled taut like a bow waiting to be released. You let yourself be guided by him, his way-too-warm hands on your hips and his mouth found the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way as he pressed kisses there. It was wetter than before, his tongue grazing the skin every time he meant to lick his lips but misjudged just how close you were to him and instead brushed slightly against you.

His body ran hotter than his hands, making every part that touched you sear like scorching fire. His brushes against you licked fire up and down your thighs, against the small of your back and your ass where he pushed the hardest.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Jimin was clearly enjoying himself, getting lost against you as you did the same; dancing back against him and letting the lyrics of ‘Wild Thoughts’ run through your system, thrum through your body and into Jimin’s. Channeling inner passions, Jimin gripped harder, his fingerprints practically tasting the skin of your hips and flesh of your ass as he touched where he pleased. At this point, you didn’t care how hard Seulgi was going at it or if Yuju was on beat or not or if Taehyung was on all fours on the dancefloor.

It was just you and Jimin, just like it always has been.

He pulled you and turned you around, face to face with his blown pupils and bitten red lips. The tips of his blond peeked through, needing a reapply of the spray to keep the pink tinge any longer than a few minutes.

His mouth was slightly agape, breathing heavy and his hands came around to rest on your behind as you pressed every inch of your bodies against each other. It’d be considered parallel had the two of you not been touching. His fingers etched blind bruises with his grip, mind clouded with the thoughts of you and you only. You’d had a similar agenda, the permeating scent of Jimin being all that swirled in your waterlogged brain.

Jimin’s lips pressed against your ear again, speaking in rasped, hushed tones as hips moved on their own accord. As he spoke, it was a constant grind, feeling his hardness on your hip and his thigh kept brushing tantalizingly close where you needed him most.

“I know I spent a lot on tonight—that tonight is special for you; for us. But would it be totally wrong of me to ask to leave?” You pulled back and looked into Jimin’s eyes, scanning for the answer to a question you weren’t sure you could ask. His eyes garnered very little response, being open and dark, yes—but they forced you to verbalize your thoughts, your desires.

“With me, I hope?” You finally mustered up the courage to ask, to which Jimin simply grabbed your ass tighter, pushing you nearly all the way onto his groin. His low, resounding growl was more than enough of an answer and he had ripped you out of that ballroom faster than you could breathe ‘yes’.

It was dizzying, maddening, having to make it all the way to your room, nearly across the campus. Luckily, hallways were empty and open, giving you plenty of room to push each other against walls and pillars, one dangerously close encounter where you swore it’d been too much for Jimin and thought he was going to take you right then and there.

Once the two of you—finally—reached your room, too many hickies and exchanged kisses later, you had your back pressed up against your door, Jimin fiddling with the front of his belt already as he kissed you passionately, open mouthed, hot and so, so wet.

“Oh—oh fuck, right there!” You stopped where you were, Jimin frozen against you as the two of you strained to hear. It was there, you know it was, but maybe it’d been a figment of your imagination—already overactive with fantasies brewing from wanting Jimin so long, needing him in your space like this. “Y-Yerin! Shit, so good,”

You shared equally surprised looks with Jimin, stifled laughter behind palms as the two of you tried to slip away unnoticed, shutting the door from where you opened it a crack. After running an ample amount of distance away, you broke into a fit of laughter. The sexual tension hadn’t dissipated but it eased, returning to the calm you were used to with Jimin. A slowly boiling heat index next to the boy, wanting, willing and wishing but now you had more than hope and unsuccessful pining—now you knew that all these thoughts would come to fruition tonight.

“Figures she’d get laid tonight, though you think they’d have gotten enough so far. Not even giving me the courtesy to have the room first,” You grumbled, Jimin leading you with an arm around your waist.

“No worries, Tae already told me that he’s bunking with Hoseok and Yoongi in their room tonight. Lucky that their roommates, huh?” You nodded and let Jimin lead the way, stumbling slightly from your more than sore feet. It’d been hours of endless dancing, both slow and fast, hard and gentle. Not to mention all the time spent standing as you snacked and took selfies and posed for “candid shots”.

Instead of the hungry desperation from before that had you two on top of each other and throwing yourselves against every hard surface in your vicinity like some savages, you were now capable of entering Jimin’s room calmly and quietly; the lights flickering on as you eyed the room. He’d cleaned it, probably expecting the company. It should’ve offended you—just a little—that Jimin was sure he was going to score tonight but then again, this was a long time coming and you’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t cleaned up your room earlier either.

“Should I be worried if we fuck on your bed, since I’ve seen a way too naked Hoseok on there before?” Jimin chuckled and told you he’d made Taehyung wash his sheets, disinfect the area and still buy him a new comforter because he didn’t trust his friend to have been thorough in removing the evidence of his shenanigans.

“I’m pretty sure eighty percent of the stains in this room are from his jizz alone. I don’t know how one guy can have so much come in him, let alone have the indecency to litter it all over a room.” The thought brought too many horrid images to mind but Jimin quickly pulled you out of that jumble by kissing you; slow and languid, feeling like his lips were cradling your own.

His hands drifted down to your hips, fingers tight as he guided your body against his own how he wanted, feeling like you were back in the Grand Hall, grinding against each other amongst flashing lights and a pounding beat. The bass was no longer audible but you still felt the heavy thrum in your blood, heart pounding hard against your chest. Jimin’s hair was in your clutches, the pink fading quicker now that the elixir was wearing off; in its final life.

“I don’t know if I told you,” Jimin interrupted you with a tug of your bottom lip, making you whimper at his teeth sinking into the plush flesh. “But pink is a really good look on you, makes you look soft and sweet. Like cotton candy or something.” He chuckled against your mouth and pushed you back against his door, latching his mouth against the sensitive spot under your jaw, right by your ear. You squirmed under his hold, the action causing you to put friction on your core thanks to Jimin’s toned thigh pressed up against you.

“You think I’m sweet babe? Interesting…” Jimin hummed against your skin, feeling like a feline on the prowl. His hands wandered, caressing here and there and making you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. He continued down the column of your throat, sucking bruises so deep you’re sure they’d stay visible for days after. The thought of being dappled with his lip’s brand made you shiver, wanting nothing more than to give Jimin the same treatment all the way down his body, until you’ve properly worshipped him and shown him just what has been driving you nuts all this time.

He hissed when you snuck your hand down, too distracted with suckling down to your chest to have noticed you reaching down to palm him in his slacks. Jimin finally felt the heat reaching states of an unbearable status, shucking his suit jacket off and tossing it somewhere in the room. The slight moonlight that peeked through his ratty blinds (the cheaper option than curtains like Yuju and yourself had chosen) landed on the mound of fabric, the millions of sequins reflecting the pale light and leaving flickers and spatters of white dots across the room. It was a low-budget disco ball, fake stars that were a step up from the cheap glow-in-the-dark ones Taehyung had already plastered on their ceiling, against Jimin’s wishes.

His name slipped from your lips as he kissed your skin even harder, with more fervor. He swept his hands across the exposed back of your dress—something Jimin hadn’t been able to take his eyes off for the majority of the night. The small of your back was still covered in the dress but just a few centimeters higher had held no barriers for Jimin’s soft palms, the gentle caresses from the dance floor gone as he pushed his fingernails in and gripped tight, moving you hot and hard against him.

You tried to give Jimin the same treatment as he had done to you, but that damn bow choker thing was in the way. You angrily tugged at one end, loosening the bow and watching it come undone. It lay on either side of his now exposed neck, the skin smooth and unmarred. Something you were about to remedy.

As much as he’d protest, you wouldn’t dare to ever let Jimin live down the noises that came out of him when you kissed and nibbled down his neck; whimpers and high-pitched breathy moans that had you shivering. It wasn’t processed, watered down noises from a stock video that every other guy tries to emulate—no awkward grunts or even worse, complete silence. Jimin was unabashed and unafraid to show you just how much you’d affected him, his length heavy and hard in your palm as you let him grind into your hand.

You made your way up to his ear, neck now littered with petal-sized hickies that were light enough for the time being but would soon darken as they matured throughout the night.

His jewelry was simple, just small hoops and his helix being a stud, the size of a pearl. You tugged on the earring, feeling Jimin’s cock jump in your hand as he let out a shuddering moan and tried to bury his head in the crook of your neck. You hadn’t let him shy away, your mouth moving to hover over his lips again, breath intermingling as you two shared a moment before locking lips and rocking against each other.

Jimin mumbled in the kiss, muffled by your own lips and you had to pull away to hear him properly. It seems like enunciating isn’t an easy feat with another tongue inside one’s mouth.

“I said, do you want to keep the pink?” Jimin looked up to his head, as best as he could—he literally just rolled his eyes up, going cross eyed to look at some of the strands that stuck to his sweaty brow bone—and you contemplated how you wanted your boyfriend. The pink was beautiful, stunning even. It accentuated his natural glow and made him look ethereal, unreal. But you’d also grown fond of his bleach blond hair, the platinum you remembered hearing him freak out about before finally going through with it. It’d been a big change from his usual cocoa brown locks but it was something he’d always wanted to do, a tamer option amongst the list of things he’d wanted to do to show his independence.

(On that list included getting his nipples pierced, having an orgy and baking a cake from scratch. Jimin was surely an enigma, no doubt.)

You thought about the petals, how pretty they’d look slipping out of his hair only to tumble down onto your body as he fucked you, a reminder of all the cheesy movies and TV dramas that’d have the man line a bed with dozens of red roses and petals—a symbol of devotion, so it seemed.

“Pink, please.” You pressed three kisses in succession against his lips, chaste and fleeting but Jimin nodded, peeling himself away from you reluctantly. His cock was hard, clearly straining his slacks and his head rolled back for a moment as he touched himself to adjust the length. It was a mouthwatering sight, and it nearly made you give up the need for him to reapply the spray to instead have him take you right then and there; maybe even just fuck your throat until he came, just for the sake of how much you’d wanted to taste him on your tongue, fresh on your palate.

As Jimin turned, he bent over and rifled through his pockets for the small spray bottle. His ass was up and it pushed against the seam of his pants, making you want to cross the room just to squeeze his ample bosom. But you’d thought you could make better use of this distraction, Jimin focused on spraying his hair evenly and liberally.

With one hand, you slipped under the shoulder of your dress and let it drift down your arm, gravity tugging it down until it cinched at your bust. Eyes still glued on Jimin, you pushed the dress past your chest and let it fall in one go, a soft whump of the fabric hitting the floor. The gem details must’ve weighed it down some, making it clatter a little louder than you would’ve liked. Luckily, Jimin hadn’t noticed because he’d been too busy trying to keep the spray from getting into his eyes.

Your hands felt numb, suddenly anxious to show Jimin such a vulnerable side of you. But tonight was the night to let go, to show Jimin you had just as much to give as you had taken.

Steeling your nerves with a deep breath, you exhaled slowly and let your fingers rake through your hair, giving it a more ruffled appearance. You hoped it made you look sexier, hair mused as if Jimin had been pulling on it for hours.

He turned around, a lazy smile on his face as the pink came back full force—petals were already reappearing around his scalp. The smile quickly faded as he realized how you looked, eyes widening and jaw slack. There you were, nearly bare in front of him with only a pair of lace panties, pastel pink with a tiny black bow at the top.

It’d come to your attention that you had unknowingly matched your lingerie with Jimin’s choice of jewelry for you, along with his hair. It was like fate had this all planned out, to fall on course like it was supposed to.

This was the second time this week Jimin had been rendered speechless because of your body, the first being when you thoughtlessly stripped in front of him—as his miniature counterpart.

As regret began to seep in, due to Jimin just staring and not saying a damn thing, you wrapped your arms around your chest to at least provide some modesty. The minute you did however, Jimin ran forward and took your hands in his own, pulling your arms away from your body.

“Don’t you dare hide this from me. I worked too damn hard and spent too much to not get to love you properly.” Jimin hissed, his eyes traveling further down your body now that he was closer. He picked up on the minute details, things he’d etch into his memory.

He took in the dips and curves of your body, the small stretch marks and dotted moles. Every single freckle like a completed constellation in his eyes, mentally connecting all the lines and letting them take his eyes further along the expanse of you.

Jimin settled on the lace of your underwear, the light color sharply accentuating your features and making you look that much more tantalizing to him. He bit at his lips, processing that you were right there, in his room—in his arms—looking like every single dirty fantasy he’d ever had since he was old enough to jerk off.

“Love, how are you this gorgeous? This can’t be real,” He breathed, eyes finally meeting your own once more before he kissed you. It was slow, too slow for how much you wanted Jimin.

With a graze against his still prominent bulge, you urged Jimin to strip as well, feeling far too naked at the moment. The two of you worked together to unbutton his dress shirt, lips melted together like soft caramel and sweet toffee, the distinct taste of mint under Jimin’s tongue. You pulled away, Jimin’s shirt hanging off his shoulders, as you cocked an eyebrow.

“Park Jimin, did you really pop in a mint while I was getting naked?” Jimin began to laugh and you joined, his shirt slipping off with the motion. He nodded and returned to kissing you, letting you explore the fresh taste of his tongue further. You nudged something along the bottom of his mouth, what you assumed was the fading remnants of the small mint. It wasn’t very strong but it was crisp, a biting touch to your taste buds.

Jimin’s body was lean, packed muscle tight and hidden away from eyes with the baggy sweaters and loose tees he’d wear. But you knew that he was deceptively built, having spent too much time working out and watching what he ate too not have any results. You’re glad he’d given up being obsessive over his image, letting his frame fill out a little more and his hair grow longer than he was used to. It showed in how he walked, natural confidence exuded as he no longer felt the need to put up such a front, especially around you.

Stepping over the white pool of his shirt by your feet, your palm didn’t return to cup his length like it had been prior to Jimin reapplying the pink. No, now it was teasingly gliding over the bump in his bottoms, just a taste of a fingertip breathing over the sensitive head where it lay just under his belt. Jimin’s breath hitched, caught in his throat, as he tried to grind his hips further into your hand, into your grip. You couldn’t help but breathe a laugh against Jimin’s lips, the skin so glisteningly wet it enticed you to dip in and claim them for yourself once more.

Jimin grumbled against your mouth, angrily tugging open his belt in retaliation to your playing.

“Fuckin’ tease, I’ll show you,” His aggression came to fruition in the way his muscles tensed, visible now that he was shirtless. That one vein in his neck was prominent, looking good enough to sink your teeth into but Jimin had stepped away, granting himself the distance from your tantalizingly devilish hands. His eyes looked darker, more volatile as he popped open the top button of his slacks, your eyes following his hands and where they were leading.

“On the bed baby, I’ll fuck you against the wall another day.” You were stunned, to hear your best friend talking like that. Sure, he had his forward flirtatious quips but they were never taken with a grain of a salt, always just banter between you two. But now there was deep intention drawling alongside his tongue, no trace of a smile or laugh or tittered giggle amongst the command. You felt a pull, a deep need to acquiesce to his desires, for they were just like your own.

So you obeyed, sitting on the edge of his bed and awaited further instruction. He prompted with a quirk of his head—a point of his chin—for you to move up the mattress and make yourself comfortable among the pillows he had cushioning the cherry wood of his headboard.

His eyes never left your body as he finished undoing his belt, yanking it out of its loops almost angrily. He tossed the offending accessory off to the side of the room, the buckle clattering loudly as it landed. With one final tug to pull down his zipper, he watched you for a reaction, anything, as he began to fully disrobe.

It was like a show to him, channeling his inner stripper to mesmerize you.

First came the shoes, toeing them off and pushing them away, bending down to pull his socks off and dispose of them much like the rest of his clothes so far.

You couldn’t help but let a hand make its way to your chest, mindlessly playing with your breasts to keep yourself immersed in the moment, eyes still engrossed in the sight of Park Jimin sensually making himself bare—all for you.

Jimin was caught off guard by the bold move, eyes glued to where you were touching yourself. Half of him wanted to tear your hand away, growl and say that you were only his to touch. But he wasn’t a patient man, and as much fun as the little back-and-forth teasing was, it was high time that this game came to an end.

After all, you two had been running circles around each other for way longer than just this week. This has been years in the making, slowly brewing as emotions stewed in secret. Too many nights with your hands and the images of each other in incriminating positions, ones that should never be pictured by a loyal best friend and kept quiet.

“Do you know what you do to me? What you’ve done to me?” Jimin asked, his voice a phantom of what it normally sounded like. It was robust, scratchy with how raspy it’d dropped down to. All you could do was shake your head, breaths labored as Jimin lowered his slacks to reveal the final piece of clothing that separated him from being bare-all nude in front of you.

“Just look, doll.”

He looked down, past his heaving chest that had a slight sheen of sweat already glistening on the surface. Down at where his arousal strained at his ink black briefs, the same tar color as his dress pants. Even in the darkness—moonlight and glow-in-the-dark stars aside—you could make out the solid shape of his cock, where you had pressed down on earlier to rile up the other. If the fabric of his underwear were any lighter of a color, you’d be able to see the dark, damp patch of pre come staining over the head of his cock. Hell, it’d be trailing all the way down. He was more than wet from just the sight of you, let alone all the added stimulation from dancing, grinding, kissing and your sweet, sweet hand providing him friction.

He was more than ready to show you just how badly he wanted you, how badly he has wanted you for ages now.

“Jimin,” You beckoned for the peach haired boy to come to you, one hand making its way south to cup at your core. The action made Jimin nearly spring from where he stood, pouncing on the mattress.

Deft, ring-adorned hands slipped under your waistband and his eyes met yours, soft as he begged for permission with the dark irises surrounding his swollen pupils. When granted, his eyes fixed on your clothed core, fire licking through his fingertips as he dragged the fabric of your panties down. With the aid of his teeth part way down your thighs, he managed to pull them off, noting just how heavy with your dampness they��d become. Those didn’t go too far, just off the side of the bed rather than against the corner like the other clothes he’d thrown around.

With his eyes on you, his hands pushed at your inner thighs and guided them apart, opening you up for him like a blossoming flower, his breath burning his lungs with every inhale and exhale. It felt like time crawled by at a snail’s pace with how long Jimin stayed staring, stunned at the visceral beauty your body was to him.

All it took was one hand carded into his hair, the pink locks slightly damp but still soft and light as feathers in between your fingertips, for him to finally move forward. His lips made contact before his tongue, the swollen, plump skin pressing along you followed by his tongue. He tasted all along your folds, groaning at the unadulterated scent of your arousal, his very being shaking with the flavor of you on his tongue.

From there on, Jimin couldn’t hold back.

He ate you out like a man starved, the most plentiful bounty of ice cold water in the hottest, driest desert he’d been stranded in for so long. His tongue made its way up, down, forwards and backwards; pressed inside you and rubbing against your walls as you quivered and clenched around him. He gladly let you grip him by the hair and lead him where you needed him most, wanting you to feel as good as he’d always dreamed he would make you feel. Jimin moaned and growled with every squirm, not caring that your thighs were locked tight around his head as he snuck one hand up to knead at your breast and tug on a peaked nipple, making you cry out even louder. His other hand just helped him hold on for the ride, until you finally slipped one of yours out of his hair to hold his hand. Your fingers intertwined and it was a sign of intimacy, of how this was more than just two young adults carelessly spending a night in one another’s arms. This was the means to an end, the shared beginnings of two life-long friends that have found forever in each other.

“Baby, ah—Jimin,” At the sound of his name coming out wrecked from your lips, he looked up from in between your legs. His lips were glistening with your slick and the sight was too enticing. Before giving him the satisfaction to smirk up at you from your clear reaction to his ministrations, you instead gripped his hair tighter and shoved him back down, his tongue gladly returning to where it was sheathed earlier. You could feel his laughter bubbling, breathed against your folds but you couldn’t care less, as long as Jimin kept doing what felt right.

But finally, Jimin decided to pull himself away, much to your chagrin. He smiled lazily at you as he kneeled up, tongue chasing after the taste of you on his bruised lips. Even when you whimpered and tried to tug him back to finish you off, he pried your hands off and crawled his way up to lock lips with you, tongue pushing your flavor into your mouth for you to taste as well.

With bare intent, his fingers caressed your thigh, something akin to a gentle breeze before they gripped tight, leaving light bruises in their wake before sliding up and applying pressure onto your core; two fingers barely meeting any resistance due to his tongue having stretched you open and left you sopping wet.

“God, who would’ve thought you could get so wet for me?” Jimin drawled, tongue heavy after fucking you with it. He latched onto a nipple and began to suck and nip along your chest as his fingers continued to thrust languidly in you, a pace that was agonizingly slow in your opinion but coupled with Jimin’s skillful tongue circling your sensitive nipples, had you going mind-numbingly insane. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into your skin, breath fanning where he hovered and making goosebumps rise all along your arms. “Just tell me when you’re ready love, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“You, Jimin—now, I’m ready. I just—c’mon,” You could barely muster up a semi-coherent sentence, having been on edge from his tongue for too long, let alone able to handle his fingers inside you and filthy mouth skillfully making your skin pebble up. With a breathy chuckle, he removed his fingers from you and gave you one final peck in the valley between your breasts, where your sternum rose with every heady inhale you gulped in the far too hot bedroom.

He reached past you, pawing at the matching cherry wood nightstand he had next to his bed and returned at your legs with a condom and a small bottle. You eyed it suspiciously, while Jimin busied himself with making a show of opening the condom with his teeth, the barest hint of white peeking where the bit at the loose corner of foil packaging.

“I thought you said I was so wet for you, hmm?” You pointed at the lube he brought along with him, feeling slightly offended thinking that Jimin was just speaking to say what he thought you’d want to hear, and lying through his teeth.

“That is true, babe. But you know, I want this to be as comfortable for you and lube is the best way to make sure that happens. Plus, I like the sex to be pretty messy, sue me.”

“You would, Park.” You laughed and tipped your head back with the action, giving Jimin the access to the long column of your neck to which he couldn’t resist leaning forward and latching onto for a quick mark.

His breath and voice whispered over your skin before he pulled back, eyes half-lidded as he effortlessly seduced you with a few words.

“You know it.”

With the condom now freed from its confines, he placed it onto your stomach as he tugged down his briefs, finally giving into the pleasure of wrapping his hand around himself and tugging. The head was practically dripping, having been steadily leaking for too long now, especially after humping the bed a little while eating you out. He couldn’t resist the bit of friction to try and ease his madness.

“Care to do the honors, love?” Jimin’s eyebrows quirked and he motioned at the condom, the rubber sitting on you still. With shaky hands and a quickening heartrate, you took the item in hand and sat up, momentarily hiding away your arousal from Jimin’s hungry eyes. A small price to pay for what was to come.

As you pushed the condom down, Jimin couldn’t help but let his head loll back, groaning at your hands on his bare member. Taking advantage of the situation—once the condom was sealed tight at the base— you began to pump him, feeling the weight of his cock hot and heavy in your palm. There wasn’t any barrier of fabric to keep you from playing with him this time, thumb able to push against the beading head and rip moans out of the other effortlessly.

“That’s enough, c’mon,” Jimin nearly whined, needing the control back in the situation but now the ball was in your court, the reigns tight in your grip. You pushed Jimin back, his head nearly dangling off the edge of the bed where you had him laid across. He looked up at you, breathless and confused until he took in how you straddled his waist, scooting back until your ass met his cock, just a slight bump until you readjusted yourself. “Baby, what’re you up to?” As if that needed an answer. Jimin and you weren’t stupid—you may act it sometimes but the two of you were plenty competent to know where this was going.

You reached for the bottle that made its way closer, due to all the movement on the bed, and popped open the cap, slyly meeting Jimin’s eyes before reaching behind and turning it over. The clear liquid flowed generously, drizzling onto Jimin’s cock and the cold sensation made it jump, Jimin hissing in response. You paid no mind, continuing to lave lubricant over him until every pull and jerk of your palm against him made dirty, filthy squelches.

Once you were satisfied, you closed the bottle and rolled it away, turning back to look at Jimin as you raised and lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch.

Jimin’s expression morphed into one of extreme pleasure, his mouth agape as you slowly engulfed him with your heat. The moisture, the pressure, it all built up and made Jimin want to pull you down and ram into you over and over again. He settled for gripping the bedsheets until he was sure he was tearing holes into the fabric, not wanting to dip into temptation and possibly hurt you in the process. This was supposed to be for the two of you, not just him.

You were already panting, lip tight in between your teeth as you felt Jimin fill you up, impossibly snug inside you. Once you were fully seated in his lap, you took a second to breathe and adjust. The fit was incredible, like a lock and key finally meeting their match. While your head hung forward, Jimin’s was hanging off the bed as the two of you breathed hard, begging whatever higher power there was to not come early at this feeling.

When you felt that it was time, your hands pried Jimin’s from the death grip he had on the sheets and this prompted the boy to look up, eyes dazed and drool almost dripping from his still-open mouth.

“What, all this talk and Park Jimin is gonna go easy on me? C’mon now baby boy, don’t be gentle.” You teased, placing Jimin’s hands on your hips before rolling slow, a circular motion that the two of you felt igniting sparks inside yourselves. With a growl, Jimin tightened his grip and let his hips move up, pressing himself further inside you.

You couldn’t suppress a gasp at how deep Jimin was, and he took this moment to take over completely. Giving into his urges and your request, he was certainly not gentle as he fucked up into you, completely bypassing the easy grind you’d initially began.

The springs of his mattress were painfully audible as Jimin thrusted into you harder and harder, the soundtrack of tonight being the louds slaps of skin against skin, wet, sloppy squelches and your high pitched moans. Not often would you be this loud in bed but Jimin was ramming into you just right, punching the breath out of you and he was faring no better.

His skin was dotted in perspiration, his breath coming ragged as he continued his punishing pace, arms rippling with the tight, taut grip he refused to release on your hips. All you could do was brace your hands across his chest and hold on for the ride as Jimin took you for all you’re worth. And much more so, as he proved.

Broken sentences stuttered from your lips, whimpers and whines as he pulled you down closer, melding your torsos against each other and you rested your forehead against his, feeling him pull out only to slam back in twice as hard.

A few times, he’d pull out too far and he’d slip from inside you, but the two of you would laugh it off—as well as you could with how driven by lust you were—and keep going just as intensely, the tense air never dissipating despite the moments that weren’t usually illustrated in the horizontal tango.

Jimin had had enough, he grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you down once more, forcing you to muffle a scream against his neck before he pushed you back, where he’d originally had you laid out to eat alive. While recovering from the initial shock, Jimin took the moment of vulnerability to plunge back into you, the sudden intrusion had you gasping and arching, back bowed and Jimin slid his arm underneath to hold you at that position.

He fucked into you harder (if that was even possible), the bed shaking with every forceful thrust and Jimin had you as putty in his willing hands. He himself was beginning to wane as his thrusts became more erratic, his grip leaving your body to grab at his headboard if only to drive into you stronger. There was a delicious sting to every snap of his hips, something that continually made you clench harder and harder on Jimin’s length leaving him groaning from the tightness.

Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him down closer to you but he still held tall, hovering as he slowed himself down to give you deeper, more languid pumps. The pace made everything so much more electric, like swimming in a crystal clear pool and everything was sharp and slow and tangible.

When one of your hands carded in his silky smooth locks, it ruffled the mop of hair and released a few petals that had been nestled; hidden away. It made your small fantasy come to life, the petals coming down in what seemed like slow motion and you arched when a few cool ones touched your skin. They littered over you like the mottled marks Jimin had made with his mouth, the pink amongst every other color that surfaced onto your skin.

One landed between your breasts and Jimin’s eyes caught it, head lowering down to press his lips against it chastely, eyes looking up into yours like a cat looking up as it drank from a water bowl. With a beautifully sly smile, he blew the petal away and returned to fucking you with fervor.

Now he had his sights on a means to an end.

Jimin wrapped your legs around him and pistoned his hips into you. With every punch you felt your mind slowly start to wander, thoughts that you shouldn’t be having in the middle of a very passionate and intense sex session with your young love.

But you couldn’t help and think about the times you’d looked at Jimin and felt warmth bloom inside, the sun in his smile and stars in his eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Jimin felt similarly; though he thought the moon was in your smile, radiant and underappreciated. Something that was always there, without fail. He could rely on the moon, as cold as it may seem at times he knew it was only because your beauty hadn’t yet been loved the way it should—something Jimin was going to remedy even if it killed him.

You were nearing your climax, words intelligible as they tumbled out of your mouth. ‘Jimin—come—gonna—please—I—need—can’t—’ Each and every one spurred Jimin on further, his lip snug in his teeth as he dove down to kiss you, wet and messy and completely uncoordinated yet it was so perfect as you cried out into his mouth, one thrust having hit you so dead-on, so perfectly, that you could’ve sworn there were starbursts inside the room.

Jimin breathed heavily, hips slowing but never stopping as you tightened to an immense amount of pressure around him, clenching sporadically and making his life very difficult; as usual. You took note that he’d yet to come, and you looked up at his pained expression. He was holding back, not wanting to hurt you from the oversensitivity but you pushed back onto him, making his eyes fly open and his grip drop from the headboard to your hips, halting your movement.

“Baby, please. Keep going, I want you to come.” Jimin’s eyes were wet, swimming with devotion as he looked down at you. At your face, glowing from the sex and the small petals that framed it. You licked you lips and reached down, stroking the small of his back before dipping lower and taking a good grip of his ass, the rotund muscle tightening in your grip as you held on and pushed, hoping he’d understand the very bold move.

Thank God, he did.

It was slow but he managed to work back up to his original speed, the tempo working up to the grand grandioso you’d tried to pry from him. Jimin was moaning unabashedly, praising you and calling you beautiful to sexy to perfect to everything in between. It was when his arms couldn’t support his weight anymore, when his head crashed into the crook of your neck and set up camp there as he breathed heavily that you knew he was nearing his impending orgasm.

You’d been holding on tight, hissing through the slight pain and trying to hide how much you were enjoying it, loving every second of it. Not wanting to spur on his pride and inflate his ego, you tried to keep your noises quiet to refrain from signaling that you were just as close as he was, a second wave coming for you at a concerningly quick pace.

Jimin’s moan came out broken, face pressed up against your neck as you dug crescents into his shoulders, biting back your own cry as he’d made you come a second time. He whimpered your name and his hips stuttered with their final pumps as he filled the condom. Part of you ached to have him inside you, raw, so you could feel everything unfiltered but that’d have to come another time, your safety and futures came first and foremost.

It seemed like Jimin was completely drained, his body on top of yours weak and boneless as you caught your breath. His own would be fogging up your neck if it’d been a mirror; his hot, wet puffs of air making your feel the heat in the room dial up. You hadn’t realized when it gotten so steamy inside but you did have quite the distraction on your hands so it was only natural.

“Chim, fuck, you’re heavy—get off.” You mumbled against Jimin’s shoulder, trying to wiggle and worm your way out from under his weight. He groaned painfully before finally shifting himself to lay next to you, eyes on the ceiling as he regained some composure.

It was relatively quiet, minus your hearts slowing down and your panting but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Rather, it was quite the opposite. You two were in thought, about how that just happened and how it was better than either of you could’ve ever imagined. And you imagined a lot.

Jimin turned his head to face you and you looked back at him, waiting for him to regain enough oxygen to speak.

“Do… do you remember when we went to the beach?”

You furrowed your brows, not finding the relevancy in his question but humored him regardless.

“We went to the beach a lot Jimin, you’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

He licked his lips, eyes searching for the words he was trying to string together.

“That time, we had to be like, sixteen maybe? It was one of the last times before we came here, right after you and Mingyu had broken up. You were really sad and I was scared because I’d never seen you so down, I thought I wouldn’t see you smile ever again.” Jimin looked downcast, revisiting a memory he was only partly fond of remembering. “When we were swimming and playing around, you started laughing and I didn’t think I’d be so happy to see it but I was and I couldn’t figure out why. When we sat on the rocks as the waves got a little crazier, I looked at you. You were looking off into the distance, maybe you saw something, I don’t know.”

“Jimin, where are you going with this?” He put his hand against your cheek, the one that wasn’t against the mattress as you turned to fully face him. Jimin stroked your cheekbone with his thumb, eyes everywhere but on your own.

“In that moment, I looked at you and I saw something that made me infinitely happy. At the time, I figured I was just being a sap but I almost said something and I think it’s something you deserved—still deserve—to hear.”

“Okay Jimin, you’re scaring me.” You sat up and Jimin followed, both hands now cradling your face as you finally made eye contact. Part of you thought he looked sad but the other half just couldn’t pinpoint what it was. It was too much swirling in your mind to figure out what was happening unless Jimin would outright explicitly say what he was thinking and feeling.

“Baby… I was gonna say ‘I love you’ back then. Maybe you would’ve just laughed it off or thought I was saying it as a close friend, to cheer you up after Mingyu but God, I meant it; I still do. I mean it in every connotation possible, take it as you want but I love you Y/N.” You looked at him with your mouth agape, unable to form thoughts let alone words at his blatant admission.

You were, for better lack of words, speechless.

Sure, you had feelings for Jimin, maybe more for a lot longer than you wished to admit but at the end of the day, you two liked each other enough to still want to speak everyday even after all your antics on a day to day basis. But love? You didn’t know Jimin loved you, let alone loved you that far back as well.

Did you love Jimin?

He did make you happy, quite effortlessly if you had to say so yourself. He was the only person who was always there for you; when you had family issues or when you got bullied at school, when Mingyu broke your heart amongst a few other guys. Jimin held out his hand on so many occasions, being your wingman on dates and your shoulder to cry on lonely nights. Or what you thought were lonely, but Jimin had always been there, all along.

“Y-you don’t have to say it back, if you don’t want.” Jimin stuttered, your extended silence bearing only the worst news for him and he mentally cursed at himself for opening his big mouth in the first place. You know what they say, you give ‘em an inch, they’ll want a mile. “I just felt like it needed to be said, I didn’t want to keep going with this without telling you. It’d feel like lying, and you know I never lie to my best friend.”

His best friend, right.

“Jimin…”

“Right, so thanks for the great sex, really it was the best. In fact, I kinda think you ruined it for me and nothing will ever feel the same but hey, that’s what porn is for!” Jimin started to get up, seemingly searching for any way to keep his hands busy as he searched for his pants and began to slip them on, backwards and devoid of underwear.

“Jimin, can you wait for like, two seconds?” Jimin paused, mid-way through putting his foot through a pant leg, eyes up. It looked ridiculous, his dick was just hanging out. You weren’t even sure when he’d pulled the condom off but you hadn’t had the mind to question it, there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Okay, so I don’t know if I can just straight up admit that I love you right now, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t,” Jimin looked like a cross of devastated and confused so you powered on. “What I mean is, you’re really important to me. You’re the person I always have had with me, and I think I seriously took that for granted. I don’t want to lose you and I certainly have loved every minute of being with you, platonically and romantically. But—I’m scared. Admitting something like that is big and you’ve clearly had a lot of time to think about it; having a better grip of your feelings than I do, that’s for sure. I already had one mini crisis because of how I felt about you this week, I don’t know if I could handle another so soon without combusting.” You gulped in a heady breath after letting that all tumble out without restraint and Jimin just stood there—frozen, with his dick still limp and out.

“Chim? C’mon, say something, anything.”

“I love you.”

You rolled your eyes and watched a giant grin stretch across Jimin’s face, his pants long forgotten as he pounced on you and gave you the sloppiest kiss to date, competing against those of tiny puppies.

“That’s more than enough for me, Y/N. To know that you feel something, even if it’s just that, makes me feel like the whole world is in my reach. And would you look at that,” He gestured to you, palms upturned. “It is.”

“You’ve been a cheeseball this whole time, how did you hide it?” You giggled and Jimin attacked your face with kisses, finally releasing all his pent up affections.

“It wasn’t easy but when you look this good, it’s not very hard to distract the opposite sex. And the same sex, on occasion.”

You hit his shoulder and let him lay down with you, engaging in what you thought was the most enlightening bout of pillow talk you’d ever been a part of.

○ ◐ ●

“Did you really have to bite my ass?” Jimin hissed, rubbing at where he had quite a sore bruise from your teeth sinking into the supple flesh the morning after the formal, a promise you had made to yourself once he’d grown to his original size. You muffled your laughter into your sandwich and focused on what Yerin and Yuju were talking about.

“Do you think they’ll ever get a grip and realize what they’re feeling?” Yuju gestured towards where Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok were all eating, at a lone picnic table out back just a good few feet from the peach blossom tree you’d four become acquainted with fairly quickly.

It was the Monday after the formal, classes and everything else seemingly back to normal. Except now Jimin and you held hands in between classes and you called him your boyfriend and when he dropped you off every night, it was with a goodbye kiss and sometimes a promise to come in another time for him to stay the night.

Hoseok was laughing at whatever Taehyung was saying, arm draped over Yoongi as the inky haired individual tried to look aloof, despite the smile tweaking at the corners of his lips. Taehyung looked over at Yoongi, probably trying to gauge his reaction and he poked and prodded at the older, trying to elicit anything from the boy.

The orange-haired boy tightened his arm around him and pulled him closer, speaking nearly against Yoongi’s lips and the action made him break out in a grand smile, gums and all. Taehyung seemed elated at the reaction, clapping wildly and pointing at the two of them.

“Maybe he isn’t ready to come to terms that he’s in love yet,” You spoke, softly but with purpose. Jimin looked over at you and gave you a small smile, to which you pressed a chaste kiss to the said smile.

“I dunno, Yuju literally blurted out her love for me the minute I met her.” Yerin giggled, turning towards her girlfriend.

“And I meant then and I mean it now, I love you sweet cheeks.” They eskimo kissed before actually locking lips, a little cruder than you’d wanted to see in the moment.

Jimin and you shared an incredulous stare before saying at the same time, amidst some stifled laughter:

“Sweet cheeks?”

All four of you broke out in raucous giggles, Yuju trying to convince Jimin and yourself that it was about her ass and not her face but it didn’t stop the tears from flowing out as Jimin slapped his thigh and you clapped like a dying seal.

Once the laughter died down, and you all were regaining your breath along with wiping away the moisture from your eyes, Yuju spoke up once more. Though this time, it stopped you all in your tracks, and not like she usually managed to make you.

“So, all things aside; when did you plan to tell me why Jimin was tiny once upon a time?”

“W-what do you mean? Is that a joke about my height?” Jimin sputtered, trying to save face though as flustered as he was made it a little less convincing.

Yuju looked over at Yerin, to which she garnered no response so she looked over at you.

“In that pocket right there,” She pointed to your robe pocket, “was a tiny Jimin, no more than a few inches tall. He looked cute, don’t get me wrong. But something tells me there’s a story behind all this, one that explains those tiny foot prints that were on our desk.” She raised a freshly manicured brow and you shared a glance with Yerin and then to Jimin, eyes concerned.

Finally, you cleared your throat and felt the petals that were still in your robe pocket settle as you moved into a more comfortable position.

“Well, it all started when we took a trip to the beach…”

[puppetwritings]

Burned at the Stake || Minghao || Oneshot

Word Count: 2108

Genre: witch!au, fluff

Summary: Minghao wasn’t usually one to meddle in other people’s businesses. But he also wasn’t going to stand by when someone was being innocently murdered.

Woozi // Mingyu // Wonwoo // Seungcheol // Junhui // Hoshi // Joshua //

You couldn’t place how you felt in this exact moment. Was it hatred? Terror? Anger? Sadness? Or perhaps it was betrayal. Whatever it was or however many mixes of negative emotions it was, there was one that that was clear–you were in pain. Of course, being tied to a stake and having your skin seared off did that to you.

Now, how had you ended up in this position?

It started off simply. A girl was jealous. Or, rather, envious. You had what she couldn’t have and that was your boyfriend. One thing led to another and she had accused you of coming into her dreams at night and attacking her. You tried to kill her and you almost succeeded. On top of that, she told your boyfriend that what he felt wasn’t real love–it was witchcraft. Who, in this day and age, she asked, could love someone that deeply? You thought it was absurd. They felt that she was correct. You were a witch.

Witches in this area were not revered like they were in other parts. In other parts, they were gods and deities in mortal form, come to save and protect the humans. Here though, they were the Devil’s helpers. And you had committed the greatest sin of all–you seduced a man and made him a slave to you and your love.

Of course, you knew this was all lies. You knew that you weren’t a witch. You were born and raised the daughter of a baker who had unfortunately passed on now. You were born human, raised human, and if you had not been met with this untimely incident, you would remain human for as long as you lived. Now, you would remain dead.

It was strange how the human brain worked though. You were dying and it was obvious. Your skin was slowly burning and you could smell yourself, like an unappealing meal being cooked at the homeless shelters. Your hair was at your chin and as the flames rose, it was slowly being burned off as well. However, no matter how much pain you were in, you still managed to cry. Screams still managed to leave your mouth. Even at the point where you should have accepted the inevitable, your body rejected it. And your mind rejected it. You were begging for help, praying and hoping that someone–anyone–would come save you. You were lucky the gods felt generous today.

Your savior, or future savior rather, was in the crowd. He stood among them as a human because that’s what he looked like. Hanging from one ear was a long earring that nearly reached his shoulder, an infinity charm dangling from it. On his other ear was two piercings, both simple crystals though a little higher up was a cuff that looked like a dragon. He wore a cloak. An odd attire for this part of the world. And crawling up his neck was another image that looked suspiciously like the dragon on his earring. On his face, he wore a mask of disgust. But not disgust at you. Disgust at them.

No matter what you had done, this was unwarranted punishment. It was cruel and disgusting to treat a human like they were an animal. In fact, your savior didn’t even think humans would treat animals this cruelly.

At first he had wanted to walk away. He was a busy person and he was just passing through town. He had somewhere else to be. He was going home after a several month trip but he had arrived here when they began tying you to the stake and he had stayed to see what they would do. He was not disappointed.

A sigh left his lips as his brows furrowed with trouble. Should he save you? The answer was yes. But did he want to? Also a yes. So the obvious conclusion was…

A dark mass suddenly covered the sun. The people of the town looked up as a heavy storm doused the flames. In the commotion, the young man stepped up to the stake. You weakly turned your head over to him, barely able to focus. You were able to take in his impish features for a moment and registered he was slashing your bondages with…with nothing, before you fell from the stake and slumped against him, losing your consciousness.

The townspeople all gasped in terror and moved back at the sight of this young man. He turned menacingly towards them as the clouds began to gather further.

“Because of a stupid accusation, you were going to kill a human girl,” the young man said.

“She’s a witch!” the girl who had been envious of you proclaimed.

The young man turned towards her and she suddenly felt her limbs freeze up. “Shut it, girl. I know a witch when I see one and she is definitely not. If she had been, do you think she would have allowed you to tie her up?”

There was a murmur through the crowd. The young man turned back towards you, carefully lifting your chin up so he could see you clearer. You poor thing. The young man turned back to the crowd, “I will take her back to my town. Await your punishment from the Heavens.”

And with that, he was gone–a black Chinese dragon taking his place.

“I can’t believe you brought a human into the Witch’s Den. Of all people, Minghao, I thought you were the sensible one.”

Minghao turned to glare at his friend who stood, lazily slumped against the doorway to his room. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung shrugged, shifting against the frame and resting his head against it. “Many people don’t. I give it anyway.”

“Can you leave?”

“No, I came to look at the girl,” Soonyoung pushed himself off the frame and walked over, his arms still crossed across his chest. He clicked his tongue, “Look at those burns…do you think you can heal them?”

“If I can’t, then I’ll just ask Jun,” Minghao murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, “Good idea. Except Jun is out of town.”

“She’ll be fine until then. He’s coming back tonight anyway,” Minghao sighed, sitting back down and getting off his knees.

“Why’d you rescue here? Or rather, where?”

Minghao glanced up at Soonyoung and sighed, folding up his cloak and his jacket. “I passed by that one town–the one that vilifies witches. And I saw her being burned.”

“They burn witches there?”

“It’s an excuse, I think,” Minghao reached over, carefully brushing your hair away from your face. “Someone was just trying to kill her.”

“She’s not even a witch.”

“Exactly.”

Soonyoung shook his head. He nudged Minghao, “So, what are you going to do?”

“They’re going to have a taste of Divine Punishment.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow and then tugged at the collar of Minghao’s shirt, looking down until Minghao swatted him away. “Is that why your dragon isn’t here? Did you leave it in that town?”

Minghao nodded. “And it won’t leave until the place is flooded.”

Soonyoung shook his head, shuddering, “I never want to make an enemy of you.”

“Then get out of my room right now.”

Soonyoung jokingly saluted and marched out, closing the door behind him.

Minghao turned back to you with a sigh and a frown. He was afraid to touch you. Healing magic had never been his strong suit and he didn’t want to forever scar your appearance. If he waited for Junhui, he’d be able to do something. He would be able to fix you better than he ever could. But if Minghao messed up now, the effects would be irreversible. It was just a matter of what to do with you before Junhui came back. If you woke now, there would be panic for sure. He would have to put you into a coma. Not that you would really need his help but just in case…

At least you were safe now, Minghao thought as he watched you breathing softly. But what you would do after this, he wasn’t sure. Would you be willing to live with a bunch of witches if they allowed it? Being raised in that community, would probably be against it–thinking that they were agents of the Devil…Minghao found himself worrying about you. It was odd to think he hadn’t even exchanged a word with you, yet he was fretting over your wellbeing. Was it because you were pretty?

Minghao chuckled to himself. Maybe you were an enchantress like they had claimed.

It wasn’t long before Minghao was beginning to nod off, his hand holding yours as if to reassure you that you were fine now even if you couldn’t feel him.

Junhui came home later that night. He was greeted by several people, all telling him that Minghao needed his expertise. This was new. Minghao needed him? Minghao hadn’t needed him since he acquired his dragon, why would he need him now?

Nonetheless, Junhui rushed up the stairs to Minghao’s room and knocked once. When no answer came, he knocked again and then one more time for good measure before he entered on his own. The sight surprised Junhui more than the request for help. Minghao sat beside his bed, his hand holding some random girl’s and this random girl looked charred. Her skin had splotches of scarred tissue and it shocked Junhui to the point he couldn’t move for a second. It wasn’t until Minghao groaned in his sleep that Junhui moved forward, shaking him awake and the first thing Minghao heard was “Who is this?”

Minghao sat up immediately and turned to look at Junhui. He stood, removing his hand from yours, and stepped aside. He nudged Junhui forward, “Can you save her?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously,” Junhui nodded. He vaguely waved a hand, “This sort of thing is a piece of cake. I wouldn’t even need to use my phoenix.”

“Then can you,” Minghao gestured towards you.

“Alright,” Junhui shooed him further to the side and held out his hands over you.

Minghao turned away as a quiet chant began to come from Junhui’s lips. It wasn’t even a minute before the chanting stopped and Junhui mumbled a “See? Easy.”

Minghao turned back around and he couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. Junhui glanced at him, “Um, we might have to give her a haircut but other than that she’ll be fine…she should have woken up though.”

“Oh, I put her in a coma,” Minghao waved a hand over you and turned back to Junhui, “Thank you.”

Junhui nodded, “No problem. No problem…is she your girlfriend–”

“Please leave.”

“Okay,” Junhui turned, leaving without an answer.

Minghao turned back to you and sat down next to his bed again. He watched you silently and noticed your breathing even out. He smiled a little to himself again until you shifted, your eyes fluttering open.

“You’re awake?”

“Am I dead?”

Minghao laughed and your eyes drifted towards him. He shook his head, “No, you aren’t. I managed to save you before any damage was really done.”

“You saved me?”

Minghao nodded.

“You…” you remembered the vague outline of a young man standing beside you as soon as the fire was put out. “Who are you?”

“Xu Minghao,” he said with a smile. “I’m a witch.”

“A witch?”

Minghao smiled, seeing the fear in your eyes. “I’m not going to do anything bad to you.”

“Of course not,” your voice trailed off despite yourself. “You saved me. I should be thankful.”

Minghao nodded and then he reconsidered before he shrugged. “I did save you but Junhui was the one that restored your body. I’ll take you to go thank him once you’re feeling better.”

You nodded shyly.

Minghao shifted on the ground, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” Minghao smiled. “What is it?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Minghao murmured under his breath. He smiled and held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand timidly and then turned to him, “Where am I?”

“You’re at the Diamond Witch Den,” Minghao replied. “You can stay with us for as long as you want. You can’t really go back home, can you?”

You pursed your lips. That was true. You were accused of being a witch and then you were subsequently saved by one.

“It’s fine,” Minghao reassured you. His cheerful tone made you look up. “This place can be your home now.”

You felt your cheeks warm and your heart flutter. You nodded, a smile lightly gracing your lips. Maybe this place wasn’t going to be so bad.

[briangroth27]

Thor Ragnarok Review

Full Spoilers…

Thor Ragnarok is a fun, enjoyable movie, but I didn’t love it.

I absolutely admire the willingness of writers Eric Pearson, Craig Kyle & Christopher Yost and director Taika Waititi to go all-in on the scope of the Marvel Universe, from Surtur’s (Clancy Brown) fire pits to Asgard’s glittering spires to the Grandmaster’s (Jeff Goldblum) universal junk heap. The world-building was well-done, whether on the scale of introducing new planets and “deities” or smaller, funny bits like revealing the Asgardian Infinity Gauntlet is a fake, and I loved how inspired by Jack Kirby’s design aesthetic the film was. More MCU shows and movies should be unafraid to dive into the outlandish facets of the comics instead of remaining totally grounded. The score is also very fun, taking a lot of inspiration from the 80s with its electronic distortion. The biggest problem for me lies in the humor: there’s too much of it. Don’t get me wrong; I love fun superheroes and think there’s far too much praise heaped onto grim and gritty heroes, as if they’re more “realistic” or “worthwhile,” especially from adult comic fans and teens who think violence equals maturity. However, there’s a difference between having a sense of humor and allowing the humor to overwhelm the stakes of the film, and that’s Ragnarok’s issue. There’s hardly a dramatic moment that isn’t undercut by a joke, robbing those scenes of the impact they should have and undermining any sense of danger or gravity. Even Hela, the Goddess of Death (Cate Blanchett), laying siege to Asgard never felt like an urgent threat. It felt like the movie was afraid even a bit of seriousness would undermine the comedy, instead of using the comedy to break the tension of the impending apocalypse. Also, everyone seemed to have a slight variation of the same sense of humor (or no variation at all), making them all sound the same.

Thor didn’t have much of an arc in the movie, but Chris Hemsworth was certainly game for anything this time around, and he—and Thor—seemed to be having a great time. The problem is, the sense of bemused fun undercut scenes as important as Odin’s (Anthony Hopkins) death. It’s not that Thor was laughing when his father died—and I did like the peaceful resignation and acceptance of his death from everyone involved—but (as I’ve seen pointed out elsewhere online) Hemsworth had a much bigger reaction to his belief that Odin died in the first Thor than he did to his actual death. Perhaps that could be chalked up to him being more mature now or this death not being his fault (plus Odin’s death was followed immediately by Hela’s return), but he hardly acts like it’s Loki’s (Tom Hiddleston) fault either beyond calling him on his culpability once or twice, even though his brother has robbed him of at least a year with his father by usurping his throne. That said, there were several good brotherly bits between Odin’s sons and I’m glad they finally reached an accord by the end. I also enjoyed the wisdom Thor got to impart to both Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) and Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) about what it means to be a hero: running towards your problems to deal with them instead of running away. It was very odd we didn't see Thor react to the deaths of the Warriors Three (Tadanubo Asano, Ray Stevenson, and Zachary Levi); as Thor’s best friends, the movie leaving it open as to whether he even knows his compatriots are dead or not was downright bizarre. In fact, Thor's relationship with Mjolnir got more focus when its importance to him was awkwardly spelled out. I did like that Thor discovered his powers aren't primarily fueled by his hammer, though prizing it over his relationships with actual people in yet another joke felt cold.

It was nice to see that Loki really just wanted to belong in a family, as evidenced by the highly entertaining dramatization of his death in The Dark World (provided by Matt Damon, Luke Hemsworth, and Sam Neil in great cameos as Asgardian actors). I also love that this performance made Frog Thor canon to the films! Thor's story about Loki turning into a snake to trick him was another great nod to the complexities of their brotherly relationship. Loki’s inferiority complex over not belonging or being treated as Thor’s equal was well-depicted in the play; he wasn't really evil, he just wanted respect. That also reflected in the way he ruled as Odin: he wasn't a cruel or evil king, just a lazy one. With that in mind (and the fact that they've done the plot so often), Loki's inevitable betrayal fell totally flat for me. He's gone back and forth so many times that it felt like the writers were afraid of committing to making him good or evil, stagnating him as a character. Plus, he’s totally toothless as a villain: we now know that if he does manage to rule again, he won’t even be a threat. My friend also pointed out that it was odd an advanced alien such as Loki was so effortlessly dispatched by Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch). I did love Loki's reaction to seeing the Hulk again for the first time though; that was perfect!

Valkyrie was my favorite part of the movie and Thompson made me a fan of the character. She brought a great sense of disaffected badass fun to the character, who also came with enough pathos in her backstory to give her depth the other heroes lacked. Thompson said that her character is bisexual and it would’ve been nice to see that reflected onscreen. I also think they should’ve given her more of a moment against Hela during the final battle, especially since her fall from grace was the Valkyries’ failed attempt to stop her initial onslaught. As my friend pointed out, the depiction of that battle with Hela looked classical and beautiful. Whether Thor falls in Infinity War or not, I’d love to see Valkyrie’s adventures continue; perhaps she could even team up with Sif (Jaimie Alexander)!

Hulk’s arc was essentially the same as in The Incredible Hulk—Banner accepting that he can point Hulk at worse problems than his alter ego—only with him being the Hulk more often beforehand. Incredible Hulk is one of my favorite MCU films, but I didn’t need to see him circle back to this point; the character regression to once again loathing himself that started in Age of Ultron was unnecessary, so getting him back to the point of accepting himself like in the first Avengers felt like more wasted time. It also doesn’t help that I’ve never been a fan of the “Planet Hulk” storyline, so the gladiator stuff wasn’t too thrilling to me (Thor’s “he’s a friend from work!”, inspired by a kid visiting the set, was still funny though). Banner was understandably completely thrown by “waking up” on an alien planet, but that’s really all the movie gave him to do beyond repeating old character arcs. Hulk enjoying being a gladiator was fine, but I really want them to find some way to repair the rift in Banner/Hulk to finally and permanently move him into a new direction; I’ve long thought a She-Hulk team-up would teach him to do just that, since Bruce’s cousin loves her transformation, and I hope we get that sooner rather than later. Maybe Bruce could start tinkering with his mutation to keep his brains as Hulk or his brawn as Banner. Hulk also gets one of my least-favorite modern superhero jokes in this movie—a huge buildup to an epic moment that’s immediately undercut by the weapon or whatever not working—so that was another strike against his character here. I did think Thor saying Black Widow's "the sun's getting real low" line to calm Hulk was funny, but it also felt like they ran the gag into the ground.

Hela was a great villain and I really liked her motivation: she was cast aside and locked away by Odin after she’d helped him bring the Nine Realms under his control because she wanted to keep conquering and killing (this was also a good explanation for why there are only Nine Realms but thousands of different planets). Odin deciding he didn’t need her anymore—despite her actions bringing him to power—played well as an example of men exploiting women until they aren’t useful anymore. Hela’s anger at Odin for this disrespect and imprisonment felt totally justified, even if she was an insane murder-obsessed villain. I'd say she's the Thor films' best villain and Blanchett was excellent in the role; I hope she returns. That said, she didn’t get much to do. Her army of dead Asgardian soldiers was cool, but for some reason the film trapped her in Asgard without providing her with a real obstacle or giving weight to her attack. The Asgardian forces felt like nothing more than faceless cannon fodder rather than people being slaughtered; even the Warriors Three were dispatched largely unceremoniously. They didn’t have to send her to Earth—there’s no reason she wouldn’t set out to continue her path of conquest elsewhere first—so there wouldn’t have been a need to create major ripples in the rest of the Avengers’ lives by sending her to Midgard. As effective a killer as she was, I expected her to be a bigger problem with more to do. I definitely think she survived Ragnarok—Thor triggering the Norse apocalypse on purpose was an inventive solution to the Hela problem and great twist, by the way—since “Asgard is the people, not the place,” so she should still have a power source. I think she'll be the Death that Thanos (Josh Brolin) is obsessed with.

Jeff Goldblum’s Grandmaster was a very memorable presence! While at first I thought his character would play a bigger role in the movie, he didn’t feel as underutilized or confined as Hela and he certainly served his purpose of uniting Thor, Hulk, and Valkyrie. Grandmaster was entertaining and the film’s style of humor fit Goldblum best out of everyone. If you want to see complete, unfiltered Jeff Goldblum, this is the movie for you! I loved his reaction to the uprising in the second post-credits scene, even if it left me wondering where all the rebels had come from. In all the other scenes—save one moment of the arena audience booing Thor getting zapped to prevent him from defeating Hulk—it seemed like everyone loved the Grandmaster and his contest of champions. Even the junkers who Valkeryie attacks to retrieve Thor seemed more concerned with claiming property than voicing discontent with the way things are. All the gladiators, who are the only ones who talk of rebellion, left with Loki. So who was left to dethrone the Grandmaster?

The other rebellion, led by Heimdall (Idris Elba) against Hela, was cool. I would've liked to see him using his sight to evade Hela's troops a bit more—that could've made for a tense sequence—but what we got was great too. I was surprised there are apparently only a couple hundred people in Asgard, though. With both this and Inhumans, it seems the MCU has set up parallels to the refugee crisis and I'm interested to see how that pans out (and where it will be dealt with). All these Asgardians have powers too, right?

I liked the effortless cameo Doctor Strange was able to make and appreciated his power prowess, but his mastery of all magic over even "gods" was a little jarring given where he was last time we saw him. The joke of making Thor ill/confused from the constant teleporting got a little old, but I did like Mjolnir slowly flying through the Sanctum Sanctorum demolishing things. That it was disguised as an umbrella was a nice reference to the classic comics' concealment of the hammer as Dr. Donald Blake's walking stick too. I expected a bigger role for Strange given the conversation they used as a post-credits scene in his film, but I feel like using him any more would've overshadowed Thor if they were going to make him so much more powerful and competent than the title character.

Korg (Taika Waititi) was fine, with many of his jokes landing, but he was also a major culprit of the film's habit of undercutting nearly every dramatic moment with a joke. I didn't like Karl Urban's Scourge—he was too much of a fool to take seriously—but I was surprised he got an arc. His fascination with and the film's spotlight on semi-automatic guns as "cool" things was bizarre and didn’t fit the film at all; on a purely technological level alone, surely Asgardian weapons are more powerful than AR-15s. Surtur was cool despite Thor's jokes in the opening scene robbing him of any trace of menace, but I expected him to be harder to defeat. Jane Foster's (Natalie Portman) absence was awkwardly explained: how would random civilians on Earth know about her dumping him unless she made it public, which feels way out of character for her (and even out of character for someone like Darcy (Kat Dennings)). The film's focus away from Earth and lack of scientific explanations for anything made her absence less glaring, except for the romantic relationship disconnect between the second and third films. I wouldn't mind seeing Jane again in a future MCU film. I would've liked to see Sif again, but it probably would've resulted in her death, so I guess it's good she wasn't included.

Ultimately, Ragnarok is a fun, likable movie, but not one of my favorites. I wish they'd struck a better balance between the jokes and losses the characters faced, and that Hela had more to do. Hopefully they’ll achieve that balance going forward.

[terezisexbuttpyrope]

the ladies

“So what exactly do we know about these....Ladies?” Shiro asked as they approached Il’rea, arms crossed over his chest as he looked it over.

“They’re very powerful, and one of them is rather reckless.” Allura said as she pulled up the files on them from Unipeace’s database. “They are priestesses, they rule the planet alongside a king...but they’re the um...” she frowned, not sure if she was understanding the next part correctly. 

“What is it?” Shiro asked, turning. 

“It says they are reincarnations of deities of some sort. But that’s absurd, this must be some kind of local folklore or something...”

“Honestly, with everything I’ve seen these past few years...I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.” 

“But literal goddesses, thats a ridiculous notion.” 

“Allura, literal gods control the internet.” he replied, smirking good-naturedly. “I don’t think these priestesses being actual goddesses is all that ridiculous.”

“I suppose you have a point there.” she chuckled. 

The entire team watched the green planet Il’rea grow in size as they made their approach. A few minutes later they were hailed-by a Galra. 

“May I ask who is entering Il’rean space?” he asked formally.

Shiro and Allura shared a wary glance before she replied. “I am Princess Allura of....the late planet Altea. I believe we are expected?” 

“Ah yes, of course. I’m sending coordinates for where you should land. The High Generals are eager to meet you.” he said as he tapped away at something off-screen. “I am Ulrich. I will greet you when you land.” he bowed before signing off.

“The High Generals are waiting for you in the conference room. If you will follow me...” Ulrich said after Allura, the Paladins, and I’ntayn had departed from the castle. The shell-like temple he escorted them through was gorgeous and mesmerising. Shiro tried to imagine how Sarah would react, smiling wistfully as he pictured her getting so adorably excited. A pang of the now all-too-familiar loneliness struck him. 

Three months. It had been three months since Haggar had taken his wife. Three months of meditating with I’ntayn, sleepless nights, and barely holding himself together for the team. Three months.

Whether Allura could tell he was about to break down or she was just snapping him out of his thoughts he didn’t know, but she squeezed his shoulder as they approached the conference room. 

When they entered two women aliens were whispering to each other at the other end of a long table. When the Voltron crew entered they looked up and suddenly Shiro felt an overwhelming, confusing, mixed wave of emotion flood his senses. Conflicting feelings were conducting a haphazard waltz that washed over him and sent a chill down his spine. 

“My apologies.” Ulrich said. Shiro looked around and found his crew to be in a similar state of distress. “The High Generals’ pheromones can have...peculiar effects on people who first encounter them. It will pass momentarily.” 

Sure enough after a moment the strange concoction of emotions faded. The woman with silver hair smiled warmly. “Welcome, please, sit.” She gestured to the table, prepared for a feast. “So may I ask what brings you to Il’rea?” 

“The uh....Valencian Prime Minister sent word, I believe...? He was surprised we had not met yet, considering we are both resisting the Galra Empire.” Allura answered, taking a seat near them. Shiro sat across from her as I’ntayn sat next to him and the other Paladins hesitantly sat next to the adults. 

“Oh, yes, of course. You had just freed his system from the Galra, correct?” 

“Yes, with the aid of Unipeace and the Blade of Mamora.” the Altean Princess said with a nod. “Combining our forces has really expedited the process of freeing planets and systems from Zarkon’s grasp.” 

“You’d think you’d  lost the battle judging by grief and sadness radiating off you.” the red-haired woman commented shrewdly. 

“Um-what?” Allura asked, confused and looking between the two generals. 

“We’re ah....slightly psychic, I suppose you could call it.” the silver-haired general answered. “There’s a great deal of masked grief coming from your team, it’s odd.” 

Shiro felt the Paladins’ eyes flicker to him, only slightly, but the red-haired general noticed. She frowned in concern and he could feel himself on the verge of losing composure. He made to excuse himself, so he could calm himself down, but I’ntayn rested her hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stay. He didn’t understand why, but obeyed.

“I’m afraid we have suffered a grievous loss.” she said, addressing the generals. Shiro felt his eyes begin to fill with tears.  “Shiro’s wife-a White witch, you may have heard of her-was abducted and taken into a dark realm by Zarkon’s witch three months ago.” 

There went his composure. “I-I’m sorry,” he cried, resting his head in his hands as his shoulder’s shook. “I shouldn’t-we’re just meeting you and might want to combine forces-I just-” I’ntayn stood and awkwardly hugged his shoulders, gently shushing him in comforting whispers. 

The generals shared a wide-eyed look before the red-haired one stood up slowly to walk behind Shiro, making him jump as she placed a cold hand on his other shoulder, bringing him into a rather awkward three-person hug as she sat on the arm of his chair. “I am...sorry for bringing up such sad thoughts. I’ve been told I’m rather tactless and don’t think before I speak.”

The silver haired woman snorted and her sister shot her a glare before placing a hand on Shiro’s head, like one would to comfort a child. “But...if you’ll forgive my transgression? Good! I promise, I’ll try to ignore your feelings. Just don’t throw them out there into the wind, because then they’re fair game.” A wink and a pause before she seemingly remembered why Voltron was there in the first place, “Ah! I do believe we’ve forgotten to introduce ourselves! I am Selena, High Priestess of Fear and HIgh General of the Il’rean Alliance.” She smiled and Shiro could see how pointy her teeth were.

“And I am Arcadia, High Priestess of Harmony, High General, and so on,” her smile was much warmer, less pointy, “But please, call me Arkh. We are friends and do not need to hide behind titles.” She reached over to pat Shiro’s shoulder and give it a warm squeeze as her sister resumed her seat beside her.

“Ah...it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I am Princess Allura of Altea, and these are the five Paladins of Voltron. I’ntayn is...ah...” Allura trailed off, not exactly sure what to call her. 

“I am...Shiro’s mentor, of sorts. I helped create the Lions, my kind were highly skilled in geomagic and geotechnology. They were....obliterated by Zarkon....” she trailed off to a murmur. 

“Oh my sincerest sympathies,” Arkh said, her eyes saddened. “The Galra are most treacherous.” 

“We were...curious...” Allura began tentatively. “You’ve been fighting the Galra and keeping them at bay for many years. We’re curious how you’ve accomplished this, and if you would be interested in joining forces with us and the rest.” 

“The Blade of Marmora...what is that?” Selena asked, her piercing eyes watching Allura carefully. 

“It is a group of Galra resistance fighters. They give us precious intel on the inner workings of the Galra military, and have spies inside the empire.” 

“Interesting...” Selena murmured. 

“We’ve heard of Unipeace,” Arkh began. “But I was under the impression their sole focus was cleaning up the universe-wide child slave trade?” 

“They accomplished that.” Shiro said, his voice steady again. “From my understanding, they had grown so much in size they now had the resources to take on the Galra Empire. They’re headquartered on Stiea K2 now.”

“Interesting...” Arkh murmured, sharing a glance with her sister. 

“Of course we wouldn’t expect an answer from you immediately.” Allura said. “We understand this isn’t a matter to take lightly. I’m sure you would want to take many things into consideration and perhaps reconvene later to further discuss and perhaps reach a conclusive answer.” 

“Of course.” Arkh said, smiling as she nodded. “We can set you up in rooms here, if you’d like?”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to intrude.” Allura assured her. “Our castle ship is more than adequate. In fact, I’d love to give you both a tour if you want.” she finished brightly. 

“Oh, that’d be lovely!”

Sarah felt darkness encompass her as she was pulled into god-knows-where by Haggar. It was an endless void and all she could feel was fear. Her head was spinning and she gasped for breath. 

Suddenly she was thrown against something cold and jagged. Opening her eyes she saw Haggar leering over her, a strange cage door between them. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. Everything was black and jagged, almost like the halls she had run through just moments ago. But there was something sinister slithering down the walls, like evil, burnt tree roots. 

“It matters not where we are. You will succumb to the darkness soon enough. Nothing can resist It.” 

We’ll see about that. Sarah thought, her brows furrowing in defiance. “What’s ‘It’?” 

“You will know soon enough.” Haggar said, a cruel smiling growing on her lips. 

The witch left her, and she was alone in the otherworldly cell. It felt like the cold fear was seeping into her and she panicked slightly. She created a small white orb, the only thing she could think to do, and to her surprise the chilling fear dissipated. She felt warmth and hope emanate from the orb, and she knew what she had to do. 

Haggar checked on her at irregular intervals. Luckily, Sarah could hear her when she approached and hid the orb inside herself somehow. The Dark Witch didn’t seem to notice anything, but became increasingly suspicious as time went on and Sarah was obviously not succumbing to whatever “It” was. 

“What tricks are you playing?” she hissed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sarah said defiantly. 

“You should have succumbed to fear and darkness long ago. It is getting impatient and angry.”

“Well I guess It is just going to have to deal, huh?” 

“It is more powerful than you assume,” Haggar snarled. “It will consume you eventually, just as it did.....” the witch trailed off, staring at Sarah for a moment before stalking off. 

“What was that...?” the small human girl wondered. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she found it was getting harder and harder to maintain her white orb. She knew she had to find a way out, and soon, lest she actually succumb to...whatever It was. 

She focused on her hope and faith that everything will turn out alright, making the orb bigger and bigger until it encompassed her. She stared in wonder as she absorbed it, her skin glowing white. The dark roots dissolved into ash at her touch and she smiled. Standing up, she lightly touched the cage door, jumping over it as it became dust. 

She ran through the twisting, almost Escher-like halls, covering her ears as several things roared in anguish and frustration. Sarah didn’t know how to escape, but she knew she had to keep running. She didn’t know what was in front of her, but she knew what was behind her, and decided the odds were more favourable ahead of her. 

As she kept running, flashes of other places startled her, almost making her trip. Sarah wasn’t sure what this meant, but the other places....they were actual places, she saw cities and farms and mountains. She didn’t know what it meant or what she was doing but she picked up speed, and the flashes lasted longer, a full second, and then two, and then five. 

Sarah heard Haggar and something huge and monstrous roar in anger, a guttural roar that sent a chill down her spine, making her run faster. There were a few split second flashes of cities and towns she recognised! 

Suddenly she was thrown forward, stumbling and falling onto cold, damp....it felt like concrete! She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in an alley somewhere, she couldn’t tell where, she just knew she was in a city somewhere. 

She reached inside her hiding place and pulled out her phone, calling Shiro. 

“Sarah…?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Shiro!” she cried. 

///co-authored by @savetheblackpaladin

[silvasboys]

The Hand That Feeds (Part 6)

Days passed, and Marcos never quite surfaced again.

It was too easy to let himself settle into the track of this room with its four white walls. Learning Giovanni’s rules was terrifying, and painful, but once he learned them, things were – for the most part – simple. He was allowed to sleep more frequently, if he followed the rules; he’d been gifted four hours per night for the past three days running. A new record. Rewards for managing descriptions of some of Shade’s crew members, and for information regarding the so-called deity Perro and his shrine. Giovanni was visibly unimpressed by the latter, but had seemed to put some small value in the difficulty with which Marcos conjured the words up. He’d made quick work of another cue, as well; three days after a new tone was introduced, Marcos was quick to get to his feet at the sound of a low-arcing whistle.

The Exterminator was getting impatient, though. Marcos picked up the signals without realizing it most of the time: a tightness to the man’s shoulders, a tiny jerk of his chin, a brusqueness in his words. Subtle signals, carefully controlled and meant to be invisible, but after more than a month Marcos had learned to read them. He’d had to, as the mouse has to learn the signs of the owl.

So he wasn’t surprised when the session deviated from the norm, one numberless day. He dared not try to guess what pressure leaned on Giovanni’s mind, but it had only been a matter of time before something changed. Now he knelt in silence at the center of the room, his shadows reaching out in four directions from the lights overhead, and stared warily at the sleek black dog sitting before him.

“They’re sisters,” Giovanni said. “We will only need one of them today, but they get very anxious when they can’t see each other.”

Diana sat patiently at his side, her posture relaxed though her eyes were as fixed on the pair in the center of the room as Giovanni’s were. Athena was visibly poised; she could smell the cumulative fog of fear in the room, and it smelled like Marcos. She watched him like she watched a treat Giovanni might put on her snout. She wouldn’t move. Not without the right whistle.

Marcos was looking back at her, which Giovanni took special note of; the contact lenses performed as they were meant to, thank God. The lights in the room were dimmed enough to deactivate them and allow Marcos to see. Easily reversed with a brighter light. He would have to thank Bethany later, buy her dinner perhaps. He thought it was strange, suddenly, how far removed that world seemed from the world in here.

“Don’t be afraid of her.” Giovanni’s voice was almost gentle. “She’s very well trained.” And now it was time to see how well Marcos’s training had gone.

Giovanni released the whistle that prompted Marcos to raise his arm, and Athena’s docked tail twitched in anticipation.

Marcos followed the directive without conscious thought. His vision was still dim, to his understanding only partially recovered from whatever procedure Giovanni had had done, and the difficulty with which he picked out the doberman's minute movements only amplified his tension. Lips pressed tightly together, he held the position. He'd never feared a dog without provocation before, but Athena felt like something different. Less of an animal, more an extension of Giovanni. And he certainly feared Giovanni.

“Prendilo,” Giovanni addressed the dog, immediately followed by a sharp “Ay,” when she lurched forward too eagerly. Teeth snapping shut barely an inch from Marcos’s arm, Athena released an impatient whine. “Prendilo,” Giovanni repeated firmly and slowly. The dog’s mouth opened again and her teeth closed gently around Marcos’s wrist. She watched Marcos’s face as if she could hardly stand waiting for him to make the wrong move.

Marcos didn't meet her gaze. His eyes went wide, every muscle tensing, and two reflexive jerks were just barely contained: his left arm, pulling away from the dog, and his right, moving to shove her off. But no - he was not supposed to react. He was sure of that. It was hard, though, with the dog's breath hot on his skin, jaws quivering with repressed aggression. He barely breathed, eyes drifting out of focus.

“Athena’s a bit of a bully,” Giovanni was saying. “Quite impossible to teach her to bite down any way but hard, and once she tastes blood she can be stubborn. But we’re not worried about it, you and I, because we know that she won’t bite unless I tell her to.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the disciplined silhouette of the dog. “She’s the alpha of the two, do you know what that means?”

Marcos shook his head, then had to remind himself to stop doing so. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t, but if Giovanni was willing to explain, he’d rather take that than risk a wrong answer.

“It means you are the most inferior animal in the room right now. Not a member of the pack, just something that might taste good to her. She’s expecting you to fuck up, Marcos.” But this was all redundant. Marcos knew his place in this room by now. He knew how the power was distributed and he was learning how to take little pieces.

“I want to talk about Midnight Massacre again today,” Giovanni stated. Athena’s ears swiveled towards him as he spoke, searching for a familiar word. “It’s been some time since we talked about our friend. Did you know he used to be an Exterminator?”

Another negative. It seemed unlikely to Marcos, but he took Giovanni at his word. He didn’t have to believe what the man said, so long as he accepted it as true so far as it had any bearing on himself.

“Mm. He deserted years before I was hired, so I never knew him. But a person like that running off into the desert with an arsenal of company secrets must eventually be marked up on the priority list, you can imagine. And he’s gone and died before he could make himself useful, as you know. Did Midnight ever say anything to you about his time in Battery?” Athena whined quietly again, like a spring of steam. Diana’s ears twitched from where she sat spectating. “Anything at all.”

Giovanni didn’t have to say he would not be taking another ‘no’ for an answer. His tone spoke for him.

Marcos shut his eyes tight, trying hard to forget about Athena’s grip on his arm, trying to order his memories enough to pull something useful from them. Quick, though – he needed to find an answer before Giovanni became impatient. His conversations with Midnight were a jumble, but then –

“He – he stopped taking the m-meds.” It was obvious; he should have remembered immediately. “He was – they’d just started, when he was – when he was on them, they were just s-starting. That’s why he – why he could tell me. About it.”

On another day, a better day, Giovanni might have let that sort of answer slide. He hadn’t refused to answer, even seemed to have given it his best attempt. But they were pressed for time. Giovanni couldn’t afford to be merciful.

“Mordi.” Almost before the entire word had left Giovanni’s mouth, Athena’s jaws flexed open and snapped closed again around Marcos’s arm in a dark flash of movement. Teeth broke skin, a kind of mindless force almost to the point of bending the bone beneath. She growled deep in her chest. “Attento!” Giovanni snapped, making them both flinch. The pressure plateaued.

Marcos was bent nearly double, biting down himself on his right arm to keep from screaming. The dog’s movement might have stopped, but the deep, tearing pain was still spreading, pulsing deeper and deeper with each throb of blood in his ears. Even now, though, despite reflexive jerks and spasms, he kept his left arm raised. He knew what rule he’d broken – not a good enough answer - but the solution wasn’t as easy.

I don’t know, I don’t know anything else –

“H-he – he w-worked with bombs – “ Dangerous. A guess; only one step removed from a lie. But he needed to come up with an answer, any answer, and begging would have been no more effective than pleading ignorance. Both of Marcos’ arms were bleeding now, though his teeth were far less efficient than Athena’s.

“What do you mean, ‘bombs?’” Giovanni’s brow furrowed. Athena continued to snarl, her breath coming out in waves of heat. “Are you saying he was involved with terror attacks against the city? There’s no evidence of that,”

“Mmm.” Marcos shook his head once, quickly. “Ex – explosives, in the ground, he knew – he knew about them, he t-told me to st-stay away from the bridge –“

“Lasialo.”

Athena’s teeth reluctantly released Marcos’s arm, but it was still caged by her mouth. She was stock-still and quiet again, waiting for the next word of permission.

Giovanni slowly folded his arms and paced a little ways, forehead creased slightly in thought. He scrutinized Marcos’s face.

“He knew about military explosive mines? SCARECROW agents planted those, who could have informed him?”

Marcos shuddered at the sensation of the dog’s teeth sliding from his flesh, eyes flicking up to the Exterminator as he tried to read his expression. Surely Giovanni didn’t think Marcos would know something like that.

“I – I thought maybe he – found them –“

“We would have known if he set a mine off… no. No, there must have been an informant.” A glint caught in Giovanni’s eyes like a smile and they bored into Marcos as if he were really addressing him. But he wasn’t anymore; Giovanni’s mouth quirked. His eyes shifted again and he looked at him now, as if he were seeing Marcos for the first time and had only been looking through him before.

“He had an informant.”

Giovanni straightened suddenly. “Tell me everything you remember about the conversation.”

Marcos flinched, though no punishment was forthcoming. What had Midnight said…

“I was – I was biking – I was coming back fr-“ He stopped, closing his eyes and taking two quick breaths. Slow. Get it right.

Another start. “I – was biking back. From Vista. I s-stopped because the bridge was out. Broken. Over a canal, I couldn’t – there were chunks missing. So I asked, just – just over the radio, if anyone knew what happened.” The more he spoke, the easier it was to recall the rest. His eyes opened again, but he wasn’t seeing the room. He remembered the sun, and the dry air, and the chipped plastic of his handlebars. It felt like something real. “He answered. Said I shouldn’t try to cross there, because he thought he knew what was going on, and the city was laying mines. Said I should try somewhere else, and call him if I saw anything that looked like an explosive.”

Marcos had almost forgotten about Giovanni, his words coming more smoothly than they had in weeks. “Didn’t matter, ‘cause when I saw the van I panicked and tried to run. My bike rolled over a mine further up. I’m lucky I wasn’t on it.”

“He wanted you to report back if you came across more? Did you?” Giovanni leaned against the counter as he watched for Marcos’s reaction. He seemed excitable somehow, under the surface, and oblivious to the blood running over Marcos’s arm in rivets, dripping from Athena’s mouth, collecting on the floor.

Marcos blinked at the question, pulled back into the present with a wince. He didn't answer at first, though, distracted by the memories he'd pulled up, trying to reach for them again. "No, I - I set off the mine -" an explosion of sand and rocks, the whole world ringing around him, and then unfriendly hands on him, pulling him up. "They took me back. Lindsey..." the distant look left his eyes, and he bit back a whimper as Athena's jaws twitched. City thoughts just looped him right back to Giovanni.

Giovanni’s gaze snapped back suddenly to the room. He drew closer to Marcos, stopping behind the dog, and leaned down a little so he could peer into Marcos’s eyes. Giovanni’s were like hard, sharp chips of glass. Like the unfeeling lens of a camera.

“Look at me.”

Marcos’ immediate reaction was to do the opposite. His gaze shot to the side, avoiding the challenge inherent in direct contact, and only returned slowly and with concerted effort. His eyes widened, unblinking. The desert faded in his mind; the heat of the sun couldn’t compete with the chill in Giovanni’s dark pupils. He shivered. Athena growled.

There was raw, naked fear in Marcos’s eyes. But Giovanni saw no uncertainty there, no haze of doubt. They were wide and clear in his otherwise cadaverous face.

“I want to know that you’ve told me now about every single interaction you’ve had with Midnight Massacre. Tell me.”

Again Marcos looked away, but in a desperate sort of thought now, eyes tracking in miniscule darts as he searched his memory for anything he might have left out. The homework, the pills, the follow-up when he almost gave in. The mines. What else. He thought that was all, but what if it wasn’t – what if he forgot something, and Giovanni knew –

“It’s everything,” he whispered, meeting Giovanni’s gaze again, his nervous rocking halted immediately by the dog’s grip on his arm. “It’s – I think – it’s all of it-“

“You think?” Giovanni interjected softly. He repeated a command and Athena’s jaws snapped down hard once again, displaced a bit from the first bite mark. She lurched a little as if she could barely restrain herself from shaking Marcos’s arm like a toy, disjoining bone from ligament, ripping muscle–

“I want Better than that, Marcos.”

“It’s everything, it’s everything-!” Marcos nearly screamed the words, doubled over again, arm still raised high though his pinned hand was spasming. He could feel her grinding down, tearing through already-inflamed flesh, a red-hot flash of nerves cut and pinched. Worse, he could feel her need to do so much more than that.

“It’s everything, I promise, it’s – I’m sure, there’s nothing else -!”

Another word and Marcos’s arm was released again--in the same instant, Giovanni clicked a small handheld light to life, shining it into Marcos’s eyes. He commanded the dog to his heel as Marcos’s vision was snuffed out again.

Accomplishment welled in Giovanni’s chest. And relief. He could really begin to finalize this now. Marcos had nothing else to give him. And he was finally approaching that dangerous edge between the remains of himself and something unusable--Giovanni would have to be careful where he made the incision. This was the most delicate part.

“We’re done for today,” he addressed the dracs in the corners without taking his eyes off Marcos, who hunched now with his arm cradled to his chest. Another medic visit was in order, but Marcos had earned it again today. The nails of the dogs scraped against the floor as they prepared to follow Giovanni out. Giovanni patted Marcos’s head as he brought up the rear.

“Good boy.”

[acoolguyscoollife]

Chapter 6: The Court of the Court

“Court is now in session!” The shrill voice yelled out from the makeshift podium, of which there were five, laid out in front of us. Behind us were the people who had found us in the first place, along with a hell of a lot more people. In front, however, were… well, insane would most likely be both too kind of a word and an understatement. Wild-eyed, manic, rough hair, and covered in dirt and grime. One in front was clearly the leader, but from the way he was twitching, I felt the only thing he could lead would be a conga line in an Epileptics Anonymous group. “We have before us three people who have been judged ill-fit to be in the presence of the Court of the Court!” The first one cried again, still with the same shrill voice. The court that we were in seemed to have once been a food court, a lot of what people were sat on being tables that had been beaten half to death. The corporate sponsorship that had been unfortunately prevalent in Apocalypse still shone through here, a lot of the structures being made from fast-food chain logos reworked into other things. The large milkshake that was part of the logo for a fairly popular coffee chain was currently someone’s shield, and I had to say, it actually seemed quite effective, for the most part. Solid metal, and most likely lightweight. Shields were something I had never really considered, even though a lot of the time I found myself with a free hand when using swords. You never really learned to use them in kendo, so I had mostly just gotten used to not knowing what to do with my left hand unless I was holding my sword with both hands. Wait, can you even call it a sword, it doesn’t even have a blade or anything.

“Lies! There are clearly four people here, and none of them are fit to be in our presence!” The one on his left cried in an almost identical voice. I was getting the feeling that the entire gimmick of this group in the actual game was that it was supposed to be a comic relief situation. However, being weak and fleshy real people instead of the walking tanks that RPG characters usually are made this slightly… unfortunate.

“Lies! Number One was clearly talking, and you interrupted!” Another one cried, and I was beginning to sense a pattern of both how they talked and how they sounded. “I am surrounded by liars, beget on all sides!”

“Lies!” Yet another one said, pointing accusingly at the one who had spoken. “You are clearly on the end of the podiums, and therefore are nowhere near surrounded!” I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but it just seemed like they were a bunch of morons, which only made the situation we were in a lot worse. With sane people, at least you can reason with them. This was… not going to be easy. Out of nowhere, the one that had just been accused of lying (as opposed to the rest of them that had been) pulled a gun out and shot the one who had accused him. The rest barely blinked, though the entire experience felt like something out of a fever dream. The guy’s body just flopped onto the ground, immediately unmoving. Again, in a comedy scenario, this would have been funny. Being this close to it, and knowing how itchy their trigger fingers are… yeah, definitely unfortunate.

“The Court of the Court requires a new member!” The main one yelled, holding up his hand. “Who here wishes to volunteer?!” Instantly, before anyone else could, someone called out.

“I’ll do it.” Seth said, to the rest of our group’s surprise. After a much too brief period of deliberation, they motioned for him to come up, and Seth took his place at the now-vacant podium. Why they chose to completely ignore the fact that he was one of the people they were deciding the fate of, I don’t know, but I could probably guess that the main motivation was stupidity.

“State your name, and what brought you here!” The main one yelled. “So says Number One!”

“Well, Number One, my name is Seth Allen.” Seth introduced himself as if he was on a talk show, pausing after his first sentence to give a politician-like smile to the rest of the crowd. I could have sworn the light glinted off his teeth when he did so. “I’m just an outsider, but I was brought here by the Bienkabov as it was my calling.” Seth continued, reminding me of Apocalypse’s storyline. There was a cult of worshippers for someone known as the Bienkabov, a deity of some kind that only the mad worshipped. Seth had been way more involved with that aspect of story than I had, so it didn’t surprise me that he knew exactly what to say. “I have reason to believe that I am the Onbalow.” I couldn’t remember much about the Onbalow, but I was pretty sure it was supposed to be a messiah-on-earth sort of situation. I gathered I was right from the reactions of the crowd, who gasped as if they were a studio audience.

“But Allen of the Court, how can you possibly know this?” Number One asked, while his colleagues yelled in tandem. Seth replied with nothing, only choosing to raise his hand while shooting a quick sideways glance at Tabitha. She raised her hand to her head, as if to scratch an itch on her temple, and in response, Seth gave a subtle, near-unnoticeable nod. Tabitha put her hands into her pockets, concealing the light that was going to shine from them, and the rest of the Court watched in amazement as Tabitha caused Seth to glow, levitated the podiums, some loose trash on the ground, a box that someone had been sitting on, and Number One himself, who cried out in surprise.

“He is the Onbalow! All hail!” Number One cried, and Seth grinned as the energy surrounding him dissipated, and everything returned to where it had been. “Onbalow, please tell us what you desire us to do!” Number One added, and Seth glanced towards us before shrugging.

“Well, the Bienkabov mostly just wants you to… keep doing what you’re doing, though preferably with less killing. Sacrifices aren’t as needed as you think they are.” Seth replied, being intentionally vague. Or at least, I hoped it was intentional.

“We must lock away the heathens!” Number One immediately said, his attention turning back to us, and Seth quickly moved to defuse the situation, placing an arm on his shoulder.

“Yeah, about them, see, they’re kind of my entourage.” He said, much to the behest of the rest of us.

“Entourage my ass, I am so going to kick him in the balls for that.” Tabitha muttered under her breath.

“Locking them up wouldn’t really do much worthwhile.” Seth finished, glancing down at us while still giving the rest of the Court his award-speech smile.

“But… they are heathens.” Number One repeated, like a child. “They must be locked up.” Seth sighed, most likely sensing that the conversation was going to stay cyclical unless he conceded.

“Then let this be a test of the Onbalow’s ability, and let me escort them to the highest-quality cells we have by myself. They shan’t escape from me.” The rest of the Court glanced between themselves, murmuring quietly to each other. Number One then looked back to Seth, and nodded authoritatively.

“Let the Onbalow escort the heathens, and then we can discuss how to best utilise the powers you have.” Number One said, and Seth immediately hopped down from the podium, ushering us down a hallway without even being told which way he had to take us. As soon as we rounded a corner and were out of sight, Tabitha immediately cornered him.

“I am almost positive that my reaction to this is perfectly justified since you are actively trying to screw us over, so what the hell.” She growled, and Seth immediately started looking to us for help. He wasn’t getting anything from me, though, partially just because this was immensely funny to watch when it wasn’t me. “What are you going to do when they expect to see the… whatever it is you’re supposed to be’s powers? You’re just going to end up getting killed, and then getting us killed too!” In response, Seth ducked out from Tabitha’s arms, pulling me by the shoulder to a doorway and opening it for me. There, like a bright light shining in the darkness, was the Cobatana, all pristine and amazing. I let out a short squeal of joy, taking it in my hand and throwing the sheath over my shoulder. Seth glanced around in the small closet the Cobatana had been in, taking up a sword in his hand when he found one that suited him.

“I have a plan, Tab’, but we need to be able to… well, teleport. Or at the very least, cause a very large misdirection.” Seth replied, throwing a sword over to Amy, who barely managed to catch it. Tabitha was about to respond, but she knew the same thing that all of us did. Despite Seth’s dopey nature sometimes, he was an incredibly good tactician when he needed to be. Tabitha took up a sword as well, as Seth explained the entire plan to us.

The clashing of four swords against each other quickly drew the attention of the Court of the Court, who all looked over to see exactly what was happening. Seth pulled back, barely managing to dodge the onslaught of the people attacking him, as I pushed forward fiercely to slash at him. It almost nicked his skin, but he twisted his body, using the momentum to throw his own sword back at the three of us. In reality, none of us were in actual danger, pulling our punches… or slashes, as it were, but we were definitely putting our all into the act, letting out yells of exertion and cries of confidence as we swung the swords at each other. Seth leapt back as we moved to avoid our attack, confident that we had gotten the attention of the rest of the people of the court.

“You dare to challenge the Onbalow? You must really desire to meet your maker!” Seth yelled, posturing and holding his sword like a rapier. It was kind of embarrassing to see, as someone who actually liked swords, but the court seemed to think of it as a good look, cheering him on. If the change in his attitude was obvious, they didn’t seem to care.

“You call yourself the Onbalow, and yet you cannot prove to us the extent of your power! You are nothing but a fraud, Seth Allen, and it will be proven on this day when I strike you down, and take the true source of your power.” I replied, holding my own sword a lot better than he was holding his. My words caused booing from the very same crowd, which worked for me. Every pantomime needed a villain, of course. Amy ran at Seth with a faux-yell, holding the broadsword completely upright as she did so, which was dropped as Seth’s hand was placed on her forehead. He chanted some words in Latin, as her body began to get engulfed by a bright light. A moment later, and she was gone, only the sword remaining.

“You son of a bitch!” Tabitha cried, making the exact same movements as Amy had, so I doubted it was any surprise when Seth did the exact same thing he just had. Tabitha disappeared, leaving only the two of us left.

“Now, Cool Guy, do you have much to say?” Seth mocked, and I grinned in response.

“Only that I’m a much better swordsman than they are.” I replied, before rushing forward and impaling him with the Cobatana. He let out a gasp, as did the entire crowd of the court, as we both became surrounded by the bright light that the other two had. The two of us began to fade, disappearing into the light. I only wished I could have seen the court’s reactions to it.

“Well, that was quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Seth said, dropping the sword from in-between his ribs and his arm. “I didn’t even know we could take it out of the main world like that.” He added, as I picked it up and swung it. As it might have been obvious at this point, we had left the simulation of Apocalypse, back in what I could only really call a lobby. The ground was basically yellow-lined squares with black insides, so the stereotypical inside of a computer simulation.

“Seth, I gotta say, that was… pretty smart.” Tabitha admitted, which I think was the closest thing to an apology. “There is one problem, though… we kinda can’t go back in without going right back there.” I wasn’t sure exactly how that one worked, but I didn’t want to question it.

“So… now what?” I asked, and Seth shrugged again. “I wasn’t asking you.” I added, and Tabitha looked over at him, paused… and then shrugged.

“Okay, so if nobody else has a suggestion, I kind of have a game I want to go into.” I said, and Amy clicked on what I was talking about. The two of us had a game that we’d not played in a very long time, since it was incredibly good but also made you never want to replay it because of the ending. Her excitement was palpable, and Tabitha sighed, already messing around with something. “Wait, do you have it ready?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Loading up…” Tabitha began, before sighing heavily. “The Under-world.”

[sassysillysavvy]

After Nina’s funeral, Sizani finds him in the Gardens.

He’s not in his usual spot on the patio, but instead hidden deep within the foliage. It takes her a bit to seek him out. She figures that was the point. When she does find him he has his back to her, hand over his mouth, and although his head slightly tilts her way (she suspects he sensed her approach through her footsteps against the grass), he doesn’t acknowledge her.

She gives him a minute. He probably needs more than that, but she wants to talk to him. No, she needs to talk to him. She’s concerned for him. She’s grieving too. She wants a friend, wants someone who can understand, wants to help him. Comfort him. Comfort herself? The list of reasons is too long. Sizani wants everything and nothing all at the same time. Nina was the same way. Her brother too. Now they’re both gone.

She gives him that minute, and then finally speaks.

“I would ask you if you’re all right, but that would be a bit of a dumb question, wouldn’t it?”

She smiles weakly. Silas doesn’t react. He’s silent for a few beats too long until she hears him choke on his words. They’re too soft. Full of tears she can imagine he’s holding back by his teeth, gritted in refusal and denial.

“A bit.”

His back is still facing her. He hasn’t moved from his spot, cast in the shade and darkness of their little hiding place. Being who he is, there’s not many places he can hide. Sizani almost feels bad for imposing, but remembers that it’s Silas. He can make himself seem as cold and distant as he wants, but Sizani knows his heart. It’s too big for his own good, and right now it’s breaking. Breaking, and crumbling into dust. She needs to help him gather it up and piece it back together before it’s too late. She knows that’s what he wants deep down.

Despite isolating himself, Silas doesn’t want to be alone. He never has.

And that’s the hardest blow, isn’t it? After years of cutting himself from the group, he finally allowed himself to attach to them; to those special three that owned his heart more than he did. He let them surround him and take up his space. He was no longer alone. But life is cruel, and slowly they fell away one by one. First Flint. Then Dia.

Nina stuck around for a while at least. She put up a good fight, like Sizani expected her to. But she had gone through so much wear and tear, and couldn’t make it past the effects of her damaged body. She and Silas had stuck to each other at the hip for many years… but everyone dies in the end. Everyone dies.

Just some sooner than others.

“You know what people have said about us? About that night it all happened?”

Silas speaks so suddenly, it almost startles her. She waits for him to continue in his pause, but when he doesn’t, she thinks he wants an answer. She doesn’t believe it though. It sounded rhetorical. So, she stays quiet.

She was right.

“They’ve always said we were made the way we were because we didn’t believe in their Goddess, or Deities, or whatever anyone believes in,” he continues. “They say we were given our abilities as a punishment. Our longer lifespan-” he takes in a breath, and it comes out shaky, “-a punishment.”

What he’s saying is nothing new. Sizani knows all of that. She spent her whole life hearing it. Both of them have, for practically a century.

Silas is almost to his nineties now. Sizani’s just ten years shy, and she’s pretty sure they both look younger than Nina did when she died.

Salt in the wound.

He’s shaking his head, and Sizani isn’t sure why. Disbelief? Anger? Guilt? She remembers watching it all flash through his eyes at her funeral, right before he shut down. He did that thing she saw him do a lot when he was younger, but not so much now, where he’d force his face to go blank and slack. She watched the rise of his shoulders in preparation for it, in the way he released a trembling breath before looking like he stopped breathing at all.

And then he rose to speak.

Silas spoke at her funeral, and it was lovely. He smiled a little here and there, talked about the friendship they had formed and the great things Nina had done. He talked about her as a person, wished her farewell, and said he knew he’d see her again.

And then it was over.

And he disappeared.

Sizani herself is still struggling with the fact that they’re gone. All three of them, gone. They’ll become a distant memory as time passes, whereas she and Silas will continue to live on.

For how long? They’re already close to hitting a century, and Sizani doesn’t feel how she imagines getting old should feel. She feels experienced and knowledgeable now, but not old. She isn’t as energetic as she used to be, or physically capable, but she isn’t handicapped. She doesn’t need help doing things yet. She doesn’t need anyone caring for her. She can still run around with her great, great grandchildren.

How many more years can they go on for?

She senses Silas battling with her same thoughts. He’s outlived Flint. Dia. Now Nina. Yet here he remains, the only signs of aging in the greying of his hair and the wrinkles on his face. He still scurries around the Medical Bay like he did fifty years ago. Nina was having to keep up with him when she was alive.

He still hasn’t looked at her.

She watches him inhale deeply, hears the catch of his throat when he tries to push the tears away again. His shoulders come up to his ears. His grip around his mouth tightens, and slowly, he folds into himself. “They say we were cursed,” he continues, voice squeezing through his teeth.

He pauses again, a long pause, before jolting weakly with a sob.

“I think I agree.”

And he falls apart.

Sizani approaches him as he cries, resting a hand on his back. He flinches at the touch but then melts into it, and Sizani rests against his side. She jostles with the force of his tears but she doesn’t move. She just cries with him. Hers are quieter, much more gentle, but she’s had her time to grieve. She doesn’t think it all truly hit him until now.

She gives him another minute (he needs years. How are they both still going?), running her hand soothingly over his shoulder blade. She wonders that again: how they’re still getting by. But Sizani is ultimately a positive person. She’s had to be to get through her life, and right now Silas needs her positivity. He’s pretty good at it himself, but sometimes, she knows he claws helplessly and desperately for any shed of light. Usually Dia’s there to supply it, but she’s not around anymore. Hasn’t been for a while. Neither is Nina.

It’s up to her now.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she tells him softly, cheek pressed to the material of his sleeve. He continues to shake under her. “It can be a blessing, too. Look at everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done. You were able to watch Alai grow. You guided him throughout his years on the throne, and then when he had his own family. You were able to be there for him when he needed you - and comfort him when he grieved. He didn’t have to be alone when his mother passed. He didn’t have to carry so many burdens. You helped him. You’re still helping him.”

Silas is calming down. His sobs aren’t as strong or sharp anymore. She can tell he’s listening.

“And not just Alai, either.” She tilts her head up to look at him, hoping to catch his gaze. She doesn’t, but she still sends him a smile. “You’ve guided his family too. Not to mention how many lives you’ve saved. You’ve continued to give wisdom and care, and now you have great, great grandchildren to watch over and love as well. You never would’ve had this chance otherwise, right?”

She doesn’t expect him to answer. She didn’t even expect him to listen. A despair like this isn’t one that can be soothed away with words; Sizani knows that. She’s not trying to do that. Only time can truly heal, but she hopes her different perspective can give him hope.

Despite her expectations, he responds. It’s thick and muffled through his fingers still covering his mouth.

“Is it really worth it…?” he mumbles.

Sizani has considered that exact same thing. When Zola died, she thought it. When her sister followed, and then Flint and Dia, and she sat through so many funerals and suffered through so many wars, she thought it. She’s even passed it over in her mind a few times during normal, happy days, when she realizes her age and the fact she looks younger than she should; the fact that it’ll take much, much longer for her to reach the point most people do in a shorter amount of time. There weren’t many full blooded Abnormals left in Nova anymore. Not after everyone began intermingling.

Is it worth it?

She doesn’t have an answer for him. She doesn’t even have one for herself. All she can do is give his arm a comforting, little squeeze.

“I think… that is something you have to figure out for yourself.”

Whatever Silas decides, she’ll support him. It’s not easy being the last one standing.

—

A few days later, she’s still with him. No, she’s not being clingy. She’s being a good friend. A very good friend.

(Deep down, Sizani knows she’s the last one left from their little group they made beyond the Wall. It was just them against the world, the five of them - but now it’s down to two and Sizani isn’t going to leave him long enough for him to dwell on that.

She’s not going to let herself dwell on it either.)

They’re with Alai and his daughter, as they coo over her new baby. Okay, not new per se, but the excitement of a baby doesn’t exactly fade away in the span a few months. At least, it doesn’t for Sizani.

She may be the only one cooing too.

Eventually, Skylar passes her daughter into Silas’ arms, telling her to “say hi to her ukhokho”. Sizani’s happy to see a genuine smile on Silas’ face when he cradles the baby close, something soft in his eyes. He’s been really down. Quiet. So much that Alai noticed, and he must’ve schemed with Skylar to help cheer his dad up.

It seems to be working. Smart Alai.

Skylar gets into a conversation with her own dad, signs passing between fingers quicker than Sizani can concentrate on in the moment. She gives up on trying to follow it and instead focuses on Silas. He’s speaking to the baby in his arms, voice too soft to catch all of it, but Sizani allows herself to stay out of it. She lets him and his great, great granddaughter have their moment, his green eyes shining just a little brighter behind his glasses as she babbles and curls her tiny hands around his finger.

Silas looks… peaceful.

He seems to realize the exact same thing right then, his mouth quirking into a small, lopsided grin. And then he simply says:

“Life… moves on.”

When he looks up to meet Sizani’s eyes, she knows he’s decided.

She smiles.