#I was sitting on the couch looking at my cat across the room dramatically waving at him and saying HI POOKIE!!! HIII POOKIE!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sanguinescorpios · 3 years ago

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stream sniper

dream x f!reader

summary | dream is on an important stream and too busy to give you attention. unfortunately for him, you’re feeling needy.

warnings | smut, thigh riding, voyeurism, dom!dream x sub!reader, edging, cockwarming, orgasm denial if you squint, this is filthy

word count | 2.8k

it started out innocent. you had been missing your boyfriend; between your school work and his editing, you rarely got to spend time together despite living in the same house.

you admit, you were a needy partner. you liked to be attached to clay’s hip at any chance you got, and he just let you. during recordings, during editing, even during streams; you were always there. it didn’t matter if he couldn’t really pay attention to you or if you had to sit on the couch behind his set up, you just enjoyed being in his presence.

this one, however, was slightly different than the average stream. you could count on one hand the amount of times clay had refused to let you be present for a stream and every time he had, it was a trainwreckstv stream.

it was fine, you always said, you understood. of course he wouldn’t want you there for a stream like that. he had to focus a lot harder on how and what he said on train’s podcast because the demographic and content was so drastically different from his own, and you would only distract him. it wasn’t personal. still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter about it. you missed him; final exams week had just ended and the idea of spending worry-free quality time with him was what got you through it. so you did what your totally logical brain told you to do: walk in anyways.

the door creaked as you opened it and you cringed internally. your sock-clad feet tread lightly as you moved forward into the room, praying your boyfriend wouldn’t notice your presence.

he did.

being a faceless creator, he didn’t even own a camera to accidentally have on, so you were safe on that front. the look on his face, however, told you that you were not so safe after all.

“i thought we agreed on you not being here for this stream?” he asked after tapping the mute keybind on his keyboard. he spun around in his chair with an abrupt kick from his heel, trying and failing to veil his annoyance.

“we did...but i missed you.”

he rolled his eyes, still ticked off but not so much that he was willing to turn you away. he missed you as well, he couldn’t deny it. not having you in his arms for so many hours was excruciating, though he tried not to think so dramatically. clay waved you over to him, the corners of his lips curling up at your attire.

“is that my shirt?” he asked, and you nodded. placing his large hands firmly on your hips, clay kept you close to him while he took a closer look at the oversized red t-shirt. it hung loosely on you, two sizes too big and ending mid-way down your thighs. clay couldn’t help but notice your lack of pants, too.

swooping his head down, he pressed a kiss to your exposed thigh. you brought your hands up to your face, heating up by the second, and giggled.

“no pants, hm?”

you gave him another non-verbal response, bashfully shaking your head while looking down at him through your fingers. he tsked you before pressing another kiss against your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“naughty girl,” he remarked after a few more kisses.

“aren’t you on a stream right now?”

clay glanced behind himself at his monitor, watching as the grown men on the screen argued with each other over some nonsensical issue. returning his gaze to you, he shrugged.

“yeah, but it was getting pretty boring.”

without a warning, clay clumsily pulled you into his lap and spun the two of you back around in his chair. after giving you one more kiss, he placed his headphones back on his head and returned to the conversation on his computer.

“yo, dream, you’ve been pretty quiet, man,” train noted, just in time.

“yeah my cat was acting weird, so i was gone for a minute.” clay placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed, a stupid grin on his face. this was gonna be one hell of a night.

***

you hated to say it, but you regretted crashing the stream. the conversation was painfully boring and dragging on, but there was no way you could leave now with the hold clay had on you. one hand lay around your middle and the other was firmly gripping your thigh. with his calloused fingers rubbing circles into the crease between your leg and your torso and his confident voice rumbling in your ear, you weren’t sure if you’d make it to the end of the stream. maybe he was teasing you, or maybe you were just needy. either way, you were gonna need a little more attention than this.

you stretched your neck in order to meet clay’s gaze, hoping he’d see the desperation in your eyes. instead, he gave you a soft smile and a kiss on the nose before turning back to the screen. he expected you to turn back as well so when you didn’t, he took notice.

reaching to mute himself, he gave you a concerned look.

“you alright, baby?” he asked and you shook your head no, “what’s up?”

“need you,” you admitted, barely concealing the whine that threatened to escape your throat.

clay’s eyes darkened ever so slightly, making it feel like the air had just been sucked out of the room. he was thinking, debating what to do next as he bounced you on his leg. the pace was punishingly slow and you grit your teeth to hold yourself together.

“i’m a little busy, pretty girl,” he began as you let out a whine, “you’ll have to take care of yourself for now.”

you weren’t sure what that meant until you followed his gaze down. oh. oh. he wants you to...use him. okay. you raised yourself off his lap and he gave you a confused look, but it disappeared as soon as he saw you slipping out of your panties and was replaced by a smug smile.

climbing back onto his leg, facing him this time, you let out a puff of air. fuck, he felt good. your already dripping center pressed against clay’s jean-clad thigh, the rough fabric intensifying any amount of friction you could manage. you wanted to move so badly, but clay’s tight hold on your hips kept you stationary. you looked up at him with big eyes, silently asked for permission. finally, he nodded.

you immediately began rutting your hips against his thigh, resting your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. fuck, you thought as you felt the sturdiness of him underneath you, his shoulders. small mewls and whimpers escaped you as you increased your pace, chasing a high that you weren’t sure you could reach on your own.

train had clay talking about his sudden success, which was a fan-favorite topic as everyone either hated or loved him for it. the only catch was that, being the nature of train’s podcast, the focus was less on the money and more on the, well, you know.

“think about it, dream. there are people out there fucking themselves to the sound-to the thought of you. isn’t that crazy?” you heard train ask, though it was muffled by clay’s headset.

clay looked down at his lap, on which you were grinding your bare clit like a bitch in heat, and then back up to his monitor.

“not really.”

you nearly moaned at his words, but hid it by sucking a bruise into clay’s neck. clay hissed at the feeling and tried to push you off, but you were unrelenting. you swirled your tongue around the section of his skin to soothe the pain. pulling back to admire your work, you were met with a now aggravated clay.

“y-yeah i’m alright man,” he started, glaring down at you, “my cat just scratched me.”

you rolled your eyes. great excuse, asshole.

you began to lean back down towards his already bruising neck, but were instead met with a strong hand gripping your jaw, turning you to face your now dually frustrated boyfriend. something had shifted, the air felt thicker and clay felt sharper, all softness void from his demeanor. the look in his eyes was made of steel and flickering between your own gaze and your mouth, brows furrowed and tongue dipping between his lips to swipe across them. the little voice in your head was screaming “danger”, but danger didn’t look so bad in that moment. danger looked good, danger looked worth the risk. danger looked like getting the best fuck of your life.

ignited by the heat building in your core and the near-paralyzing look clay was giving you, you continued your previous actions. rutting your hips against clay’s thigh with fervor, you smiled proudly at him. the roughness of his jeans sent shivers through your body, you had to be soaking him and you were only getting wetter by the second.

your chin raised, a smug smile plastered to your features, and that challenging glint in your eye - you were such a fucking brat and clay lived to put you in your place. his hold on your jaw tightened before sliding down to rest on your throat, squeezing until your eyelids began to flutter and your thrusts grew sloppier. the knot in his stomach twisted tighter at the sight. fuck, clay thought, you were something else. something that needed to be taught a lesson.

clay muted again, taking advantage of the ad break to pull down his sweatpants and pull out his cock. he pumped it a few times, precum leaking from the tip and sliding down his length. your stomach flipped at the sight, never not taken back by his size. clay grabbed you by your hips and spun you around so that you were facing his pc, facing everyone on the call that you had nearly forgotten he was still on. then, he began to tease his tip at your entrance.

“this what you wanted, pretty girl? wanted me to treat you like a slut? wanted me to fuck you with everyone on the call?”

you moaned at the feeling of him circling the place you needed him most. the heat was still heavy on you from your previous actions and your body was no less frenzied than before, you wanted your release more than anything. knowing that all of those people were there didn’t help your crazed state. you felt dirty and you liked it.

“sit.”

you lifted yourself over him without a second thought, slick and sensitive from the buildup of your long-awaited orgasm. a moan slipped past your lips at the stretch, feeling every inch of him against your walls as he bottomed out. instinctively, you let your head fall against clay’s shoulder, overwhelmed by how full you felt. god, he felt so good. when you went to move, clay’s strong hands gripped your hips and held you in place.

you whimpered against his neck, trying and failing to get some sort of friction going. when that didn’t work, you opted to clench around him, but clay simply tsk-ed you.

“you’ve been naughty, baby,” he started, “now you’ll sit here like a good girl and keep me warm until the stream’s over.”

what? you thought to yourself, the panic setting in. he can’t be serious!

“no, no, no, no, i’ll be good!” you begged. you’d been practically edging yourself for what felt like hours now, you needed him to let you release.

“i know you will, baby. now sit still for daddy, okay?”

time passed immeasurably slow. your mind was racing with thoughts, trying to focus on anything but clay’s cock throbbing inside of you. you tried your hardest not to squeeze him too often, despite how much relief it brought you. clay was feeling the heat too, your warm, velvety walls gripped him impossibly tight and he was beginning to regret choosing this punishment. you needed the lesson, but god was he suffering for it.

when the stream finally came to an end, the first thing clay did was thrust up into you. you yelped, gripping his arm in surprise at the sudden movement. he started up a steady pace, pounding up into you and rubbing harshly at your clit. the feeling was intense, especially after how long you’d been teased and forced to wait, and you found yourself moaning wildly because of it, unable to control your noises as he spun you around in his lap once again.

“had to-make me-punish you-during a stream, huh?” he taunted between harsh thrusts, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you to look at him. “had to choose today to be a little slut?”

you let out a near-pornographic noise, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit your most sensitive spot.

“i asked you a question.”

“i’m sorry, daddy. i - ah! - i won’t do it again!” you wailed, head falling back as you felt your release fastly approaching.

clay grunted and forced you to look at him again, pushing his thumb into your mouth and letting you drool around it.

“look at me when you fucking speak,” he ordered.

he picked up the pace in frustration, wanting you to apologize appropriately. you distracted him, you should know how much he hates that. you should also know how much he demands your eye contact, getting fucked or not.

you coerce your eyes open and look at him, not concerned about how absolutely wrecked you must look right now. mascara running down your cheeks with tears from over and under stimulation, eyeliner smudged around your blown out eyes, lips red and sore from kissing on his neck, you were a mess. a hot one, if you asked clay.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you continued to babble around his finger as his thrusts somehow grew harder and harder, the pace excruciatingly pleasurable. you were going to cum, you knew that much, but you needed permission.

“gonna cum, daddy!” you warned, feeling the burning knot in the pit of your stomach begging to unravel.

“cum for me, baby. make daddy proud.”

and make daddy proud you did, cumming hard around clay’s cock and feeling yourself spray his stomach with your juices. did you just? oh my god, you did. the embarrassment only made you feel hotter as clay continued to fuck your hole past your orgasm. you whined from the overstimulation, but he couldn’t have cared less.

clay’s moans went from low grunts to higher, breathy gasps, the closer he got the lighter his noises became. his brows were furrowed tightly and his eyes were blown out, the darkest shade of green you think you’d ever seen. the muscles in his arm pulsed as he gripped your waist tighter, completely using you as his own personal fuck toy. he was almost there, you could feel it in the way he gave his all but couldn’t keep up the organized pace he had before. you needed him to cum, not just because you were close to being worked up all over again from the stimulation, but because you wanted to make him feel good. in that moment, making him cum felt like your life purpose, your only purpose. you didn’t just want him to cum, you needed it.

“please give me your cum daddy, wanna feel it inside me,” you begged, taking matters into your own hands, “need you to make me yours.”

at that, clay groaned out a loud string of profanities and came inside of you. he painted your insides, you could feel him everywhere. you sighed at the feeling, warm and full and satisfied. clay let his head fall into the crook of your neck as he breathed through his cool down, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder and mumbling praises and ‘i love you’s’. it took a moment for either of you to actually speak, just relishing in the moment and enjoying each others company.

“you gonna move anytime soon, bud?” you finally asked with a giggle. clay simply shook his head and buried it farther into your neck, humming out a ‘no’.

“wanna make sure it stays in for a while.”

you giggled again at his confession, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and ruffling his hair.

“okay baby,” you paused and pouted, “i’m sorry for interrupting your stream.”

clay sat back and gave you a soft smile, pressing his finger to your lips and turning your frown upside down, literally. he shook his head and gave you a sweet kiss, pressing his own lips tenderly to yours.

“don’t apologize, it was worth it.” a cheeky smile spread across his face and you rolled your eyes, the endearing air around you severed by your boyfriend’s childishness. you loved it, though you’d never tell him.

“you think anyone was suspicious of us?” you inquired, hoping to god no one had picked up on your quiet moans while the stream was still going.

“nah,’ clay lied.

#dreamwastaken x you #dream x you #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken smut #dream smut #dreamwastaken x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #mcyt

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donaweasley · 3 years ago

Text

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

---------------------

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

---------------------

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel��”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

---------------------

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

His heart racing, Hopper could hear the blood pumping in his ears as he ran through the twisted corridors of the Lab. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he swiftly maneuvered the facility be had just broken into in search of the missing boy.

"Will?" His desperate calls echoed off of the cold tile walls.

"Will?"

In the midst of his frantic haste, he had gotten turned around. The chilling corridors all seemed the same and a new wave of panic flooded him. Taking a deep breath, the chief tried his best to recompose himself. He came across a crossroads, it resembled a four-way intersection that one may find on an ominous back road in the country. He stared ahead and sighed.

Each corridor was identical to the next. Cold and unwelcoming.

"You gotta be shittin' me." He growled under his breath.

Grabbing his bearings, the man kept straight and hoped for the best.

The hallway stretched for what felt like miles, when finally, after a few turns, it came to a dead end. He looked around and noticed this was quite different than the others.

The chief's instincts that had earned him the title in the first place suggested to him that the small corner of the facility had been long forgotten. This particular area had been neglected the upkeep that was evident in the rest of the laboratory. Ahead of him lay two doors; an old broom closet, labeled as such, and a rather ominous looking door, with an accompanying window with a glimpse inside an untidy room.

This particular room piqued his interest. The door was closed, though the handle seemed to be broken, the room ajar. Hopper cautiously stepped toward the door, reaching his arm out and slowly pushed it open.

Hopper stepped inside the cluttered room, his heart racing, not knowing what to expect. It was clear that the room was designed to have a greater purpose, but had been hastily abandoned and eventually forgotten. It seemed that just about every item in the room, much like the rest of the facility, was made of steel. From the counters to the filing cabinets with half-opened drawers. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he stepped inside and around the steel table to the cabinet on the opposite end of the room.

Knowing he had little time, he shone his flashlight into the drawer and he quickly rifled through the filing cabinet waiting for something that might catch his eye. Hopper sighed in disappointment when he found nothing useful. He began to shut the filing cabinet in defeat when he caught a small glimpse of a peculiar label shoved all the way to the back, almost like it was meant to be forgotten.

Tilting his head in curiosity, Hop pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and even then, the man had to reach for the file. It a wonder he caught it in the first place. He pulled it from the drawer and examined the front with haste.

The label on the edge of the manilla folder had been scratched out and written over many times that it was now indistinguishable. The front cover was all blank, except for a few words that had been scribbled in black ink.

SUBJECT 009; THE MISSING EXPERIMENT

The familiar words sparked something in Hopper. With no time to waste he shoved the file into his jacket and closed the cabinet, making a run for the door.

Fortunately, Hopper was able to retrace his steps back to the where he had gotten lost, this time making a right turn down the hallway. He continued his calls for Will when suddenly, he found himself in a room, not that different from the strange room he found himself in earlier. Only this room, contained a bed.

And a security camera, which happened to be the first thing Hopper noticed when he entered.

He stepped closer to the bed, the light of the flashlight landing on a small stuffed animal, that was placed neatly at the top of the bed near the pillow. Frowning, Hopper moved his flashlight to the wall above the bed, a small piece of printer paper had been taped to the wall.

It was a drawing, clearly done by a child.

There were two people depicted in the drawing, in the form of stick figures. What appeared to be a tall man standing next to a smaller stick figure who he could only assume to be artist. The child wore a frown, and they faced a table that appeared to have a cat on it. Hopper almost didn't notice the words above each stick figure.

Above the child, was the number eleven. And above the man, written in messy handwriting was a single word.

Papa.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The five of us were scattered around Mike's basement. El was curled up on the couch, most likely physically exhausted from contacting Will. Mike was sitting at the opposite end of the couch by El's feet, concentration etched in his features. Lucas occupied the lounge chair deep in thought while Dustin resides at the bottom of the stairs.

"What was Will saying?" Mike wondered.

He began reciting Will's words from earlier in an attempt to recall the only clue we might have that he might be alive.

"Like home... Like home... but dark?" He stood up from the couch, hands still in his jacket pockets as he began pacing the room.

"And empty." Lucas pressed his intertwined fingers against his forehead, his eyes closed deep in thought.

My leg bounced up and down at an alarming rate, a nervous habit I picked up at a young age as I spoke up, my eyes still focused on one random corner of the room.

"And cold."

Dustin sighed.

"Empty and cold. Wait, did he say cold?" He looked around the room, seeming to second guess himself.

"I don't know, I think? The stupid radio kept going in and out." Lucas sighed.

"He did. He said cold." I muttered, unable to shake the haunting voice of my friend's terrified cries for help.

"Like home." Mike repeated once more. "Like his house?"

"Or maybe like Hawkins." Lucas offered eagerly.

"Upside Down." El muttered.

"What'd she say?" Lucas asked.

"Upside Down." Mike said, a hint of astonishment in his voice as something seemed to have clicked.

"What?" Lucas repeated.

Mike walked over to the table I sat at and looked at the overturned game board. It was then, I recalled what El had been telling us the other night, with Will's game piece.

My mouth fell into a silent gasp as everything began falling into place. I turned myself back around in the chair and looked at the board.

"Upside down." I breathed.

Mike had taken a seat across from me, both hands on the game board while the other boys got up and joined us at the table.

Mike began flipping the board over multiple times as he explained.

"When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember? Upside down. Dark. Empty. Cold." He finished, locking eyes with me as he said the last word.

"Do you understand what he's talking about?" Lucas asked me and Dustin.

We replied simultaneously.

"Yes."

"No."

We both looked at each other with confusion and a hint of annoyance for a split second before dismissing the thought.

"Come on guys, think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?" I offered, gesturing all around me as I spoke.

Lucas shrugged.

"Yeah. And he wasn't there."

"But what if he was there?" I offered, eyebrows raised as I looked between my brother and Lucas. "What if we just couldn't see him? What if he was on the other side?"

The boys, aside from Mike, of course, seemed to consider this. Mike jumped back in as he flipped the board right side up once more.

"What if this is Hawkins and..." he flipped it back. "This is where Will is? The Upside Down."

Dustin seemed to perk up as he connected his own dots.

"Like the Vale of Shadows."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dustin slammed Mike's collection of Dungeons and Dragons guides and spell books on the table and began flipping through the various guidebooks. After a few moments he stopped on the page he had been looking for and began to read aloud.

"The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters."

As he read the next sentence, Mike, Lucas and I all shared the same, unsettled look, and a chill ran down my spine.

"It is right next to you, and you don't even see it." Dustin finished, and looked up, sharing our looks of concern.

Mike spoke up.

"An alternate dimension."

It seemed I was not the only one who was having difficulty handling the information.

"But... how... how do we get there?" Lucas asked worriedly.

"We cast Shadow Walk." Dustin said.

"In real life, dummy." Lucas deadpanned.

"We can't shadow walk, but... maybe she can." Dustin offered.

We all look to a drowsy looking El.

"Do you know how we get there? To the Upside Down?" Mike asked her gently.

She shook her head softly and we all felt the heavy ache of disappointment. Some of us were better at hiding it.

"Oh, my God!" Lucas sighed dramatically.

I tuned out the bickering that began between the boys when I gestured for the handbook and Dustin complied, sliding it over to me.

Maybe, just maybe, there must be something in one of these books that could help us or even give us an idea. I began flipping through the spell book and found myself lingering on my characters class, the Druid. More specifically, the Druid spell pages, getting lost in thought.

My eyes scanned the pages, my hope and curiosity had bubbled down to desperation and boredom as I read the all too familiar page. This time, with a new lense.

I recognized the many spells I had used in previous campaigns; Produce Flame had gotten me out of a pinch with a mimic once, I smiled at the memory. And of course, Plant Growth - one of my personal favorites - Will would always tease me about my love for plants carried on into my character.

I soon found myself unable to tear my attention away from one of the lower class spells I always used, Cure Wounds. Something in the back of my mind kept gnawing at me. I bore my eyes into the page as I reread the words over and over again.

"You or a creature you touch regains a number of Hit Points equal to 1d8 + your Spellcasting ability modifier. This spell has no effect on Undead or constructs."

It dawned on me. That night we saw "Will". It was just moments before we heard the sirens, I realized my cut had mysteriously vanished. I had immediately gotten distracted when we heard the sirens and then everything happened one after the other that I had forgotten.

'How could I possibly have forgotten something like that?'

I thought about El. A week ago I never believed it possible to move things with your mind, but yet El could. It made me wonder.

I shook my head, clearly, I was grasping at straws.

'Remember what mom said?' I asked myself, some part of me desperate to bury the ridiculous notion growing in the back of my mind. 'My body has always been faster than most medicines.'

I broke myself out of my thoughts to see Dustin and Lucas packing up. Suddenly realizing how tired I was, I happily joined in and grabbed my jacket from the chair and we said our goodbyes.

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sorryimananti-romantic · 3 years ago

Text

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 3

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 9.9k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

--------------

"But I want to sleep..." Seohyun complained.

"Is sleep more important to you than us?" Wooyoung asked.

"Of course it is. Is that even a question?" Seohyun raised her brow and Wooyoung gaped at her.

"We've been friends for long now, Wooyoung, I thought you knew better not to ask questions like these," Yeosang said, laughing.

It had been more than a month now since that incident with San. Seohyun looked at each of them slowly, smiling. Despite herself, she had gotten quite used to the company of these boys. And they were EIGHT. It was hard to not be alone. Even if some of them were busy, the rest would always fool around after school as well.

Seohyun had gotten to know them well now too. She knew that Hongjoong, the oldest, also acted like one. He had a thing for fashion, and had reformed her navy blue cap that she always wore, embroidering a cat on it.

Seonghwa was the mom of this group for sure. He was always keeping them in check, always stopping them from doing something stupid (which was most of the times) and always helping them with homework. He was very caring, and he couldn't hide that part of himself.

Yunho was the clown of the group, and surprisingly, she was getting along with him and Yeosang quite well. Yeosang and her had the savageness in common, which mixed well with Yunho's humor. Since the three sat next to each other, they would always pass a joke or two to her even during class, and she had to beg them to stop one too many times.

Wooyoung and Mingi were quite funny too. There was just something contagious about their smiles. Seohyun found herself smiling a lot in their company. It didn't help that Wooyoung laughed like a hyena; even when she had no reason to laugh, she'd burst out laughing when she heard Wooyoung laugh.

She was getting along well with Jongho too, especially because they were paired for a project. She hadn't had the chance to talk to him much but once she did, she found that he was actually quite witty despite his dad jokes, and that he loved singing and... breaking apples. Which was weird but it was fun to see how strong he was.

"All you do is sleep, Seohyun. You have to come with us now," San insisted.

Seohyun stared at San. She was glad they were out of danger -for now. The old ghost had finally moved on after realizing that killing Seohyun was not worth it (thanks to Jiwoo). San had gotten close to Jiwoo as well. When she was not hanging out with the boys, she was with San. He liked being in her company because apparently 'he didn't want to look stupid alone staring at the distance'. He could see all sorts of ghosts now and Seohyun was helping him practice differentiating between the living and the dead.

"All right, but if I see something stupid, I leave. Okay?" Seohyun locked eyes with him and he nodded assuredly, smiling and showing off his dimples.

Hongjoong had been insisting that she finally come to their 'second home'. Apparently it was a warehouse that Hongjoong's father owned but had no use for so Hongjoong turned it into a place for him and the boys to hang out. She had no idea what they did there, and they finally wanted to show her the place because they all 'approved of her now and accepted her as one of them'.

The warehouse wasn't far from school so they decided to walk there. The black cat was walking with them now. San bent to pick her up, patting her head.

"Still didn't come up with a name?" Seohyun asked.

"You rejected Shiber. I don't want any other name," San pouted.

"I told you you could call it Shiber, I'll just... call it whatever I call her... hey what do I even call her?" Seohyun wondered.

"You never actually call her, do you?" San laughed a little, caressing the cat's neck, "She sticks to you, and you didn't even give her a name. I'm disappointed in you."

"I couldn't find the right name," Seohyun mumbled, frowning.

"Still, she's been your friend for what, like a year now-"

"FINE. Shiber. That sounds like a male name though."

"It's my plushie's name, but she reminds me of it," San admitted.

"You're naming my cat after a plushie? SAN!" Seohyun punched San's arm, making him laugh out loud. Wooyoung joined them, grinning.

"San's had that plushie since he was a kid," Wooyoung said. "I'm not surprised that he couldn't come up with any other name."

"You should've told me before, I would have never allowed him to name the cat then..." Seohyun shook her head but grinned.

"We're here!" Hongjoong announced, and Seohyun took off her sunglasses as she looked at the large warehouse, the sun reflecting harshly back at her, making her eyes water.

They went inside, Seohyun stepping in last and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Mingi turned the light on, and she ran her eyes around.

"Woah," she breathed. It really did feel like a 'home'. The place had everything they could think of; sofas, couches, tables, a fridge for snacks, a basket for basketball, and so many musical instruments and equipment. "Are you guys secretly famous musicians or what?"

"Nothing like that," Seonghwa laughed, "We just really like music. Hongjoong is always making songs though. We fool around."

"I wouldn't call this 'fooling around'," Seohyun said, walking towards the equipment, stopping mid-way. "Can I?"

"Of course," several of them replied, nodding. She smiled as she ran her fingers across the piano, looking at the speakers and the mics. She saw some pages, probably lyrics scribbled on them, lying on the table near.

"So you guys... make music? Do you want to be idols or something?"

"For now, we're just exploring," Jongho replied, "Who knows? Maybe some of us might want to go into the musical side."

"So you all sing?"

"I'm the rapper," Mingi said, "Hongjoong raps too."

Seohyun made an impressed face. She pressed some of the piano keys, and something clicked at her mind. She looked up at Hongjoong as a grin spread across her face. "So that's why your fingers are always tapping at the desk. You make music!"

"Oh? I'm surprised you noticed," Hongjoong admitted.

"It's hard to not notice when you're sitting in my vision with fingers tapping nonstop while I'm trying to focus in class. You were doing something like this today, weren't you?" Seohyun said and played the keys that had unintentionally been printed in her memory.

"Woah, I'm more surprised that you remembered it!" Hongjoong clapped in disbelief and then narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you... know how to play?"

"The piano? Not much. But I have a drum set at home," Seohyun said and she saw as the boys looked at each other, applauding her.

"What?" Seohyun asked.

"We knew there was something about you," Wooyoung went on dramatically, waving his hands as he said "who knew we had a shared passion for music?"

"I wouldn't call it 'passion' per se, it's more of a... hobby. A stress-reliever, if you will. And stop ogling at me like you guys won a jackpot. I know what's going through your heads, and I say no."

"But you can play!" Mingi wailed, "We need more people to play the instruments! These guys-" he pointed at the boys one by one, "-they never learn!"

"Hey, hey, hey, look who's saying! Didn't you want to learn drums? What happened to that?"

"I don't have a drum-set!"

"I can play too!" Jongho and Yeosang complained.

Seohyun watched as the boys started arguing among themselves, and she shook her head. She had never imagined they like making music this much. If she had known, she might not have told them about her drums, much less her room full of instruments at a time like this.

"If you don't shut up, I'll never bring any instrument here."

"You mean you will if we shut up?" San asked, followed by Seonghwa who said, "You have more than one instrument?"

Seohyun sighed. "This is overwhelming, okay? Like I respect what you do, but I'm still new to being friends with you all, and it would take me some time to open up to you guys about the instruments. It's just... I have some memories- I don't really want to go back there."

"Oh..." San raised his brow and she bit her lip. She hadn't lied. She had some memories attached to those instruments that she would rather forget. It had been about two years since she'd played. She wanted to shut out that part of herself. She wanted to throw those instruments, but she hadn't been able to.

"Can you just... tell me which instruments you have, other than the drums?" Hongjoong asked cautiously.

Seohyun rolled her eyes. "Drums, bass, electric-"

"WOW!" Wooyoung gasped out very loud.

"-and violin. And I can play piano and guitar too. But it's been like two years since I last played so I'm probably very rough now..."

"Is one of your parent a musician or what?" Yunho asked.

"No, the drums were my mom's. The rest, I bought them when I was going through a phase."

"A phase. Wow," Yeosang snickered, earning daggers from Seohyun.

"Alright, we won't pressure you or anything. But you're free to play the piano if you want to," Yunho suggested, "and you're free to do whatever you want."

"Thanks for understanding," Seohyun muttered, smiling at him.

"But I wanted to learn the drums..." Mingi wailed.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll be the one to teach you," Seohyun said nonchalantly, making him smile his famous gummy smile.

"So anyways, what's with those mirrors?" Seohyun asked.

"Oh, that? We like to dance too," Jongho said.

"Oh my god. You guys should stop watching all those idol videos..."

"But we're good at it!" Wooyoung laughed, "And anyways, even if we don't go down that route, we love doing it anyway. It's our way of releasing stress."

"Sure," Seohyun nodded.

"Don't tell me you can dance too," Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh no. I don't think I can," Seohyun admitted. Unless you could count those random 3 am sad twerks as dancing. The boys watched as she suspiciously tried to avoid their gaze, looking around.

"So now that we've told you so much about ourselves, how about you tell us something that we don't know?" Jongho suggested.

"I don't know what's there to tell," Seohyun said, her eyes unintentionally falling on San who lightly shook his head.

"Anything. Something. It's just that we'd like to know you more," Seonghwa smiled warmly at her.

"How about you just ask me and I'll answer? Because it feels like I'll never be able to start myself..."

"Or how about," Yeosang started, a devilish smile spreading across his face, "we play truth or dare?"

"Oh no..."

----------------

Yeosang made everyone sit in a circle, and though very reluctant at first, Seohyun had to sit down too (after being dragged by Wooyoung). They discussed the rules; they could choose between truth or dare, and if a person didn't want to answer a question they should just say so instead of lying, which would earn them a penalty.

Hongjoong spun the bottle, and Seohyun prayed it would never land on her. At least not today. She wasn't feeling it. She still thought that the eight of them were well knit as they were, they didn't need her between them.

The bottle landed on Yunho, and he laughed nervously. Jongho asked truth or dare, and he replied with dare. Not fair, Seohyun thought. She wasn't sure she would ever choose dare. She had no idea what sort of dares they were gonna give.

"Alright, show us your golden retriever! You haven't done that in a long time!"

"Golden retriever?" Seohyun asked. She had heard them talk about it once or twice, but she had no idea what it was about.

"Ah, I'm getting nervous~" Yunho laughed awkwardly. She supposed it was because he was gonna do it in front of her for the first time.

"Come on, don't be shy," Wooyoung teased and he nodded, taking in a deep breath. He turned his head back, then looked forward, his eyes a bit wide as he made a paw out of his hand and flicked it, barking in the cutest way possible.

Seohyun was silent for a moment before she burst out laughing. She was howling at this point, making the rest of them laugh too.

"At least I made her laugh!" Yunho said proudly.

Seohyun wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. "That was hilarious. You really do look like a puppy, Yunho."

"Thanks?" Yunho said and laughed.

"Alright, next!" Jongho said, spinning the bottle, and to Seohyun's relief, it stopped at Hongjoong who was right next to her. He wailed.

"I choose... dare."

"You all are gonna end up choosing dare. I'll be the only one choosing truth it seems," Seohyun groaned.

"You know what to do," Yeosang said, locking eyes with Wooyoung who nodded. "Michael Jackson impression."

"NO! I CHOOSE TRUTH!"

"It's too late to turn back now!" San said.

"It's embarrassing enough to do it even in front of one of you, and now there's EIGHT of you. Alright. Here goes nothing." Hongjoong got up and straightened his clothes. He took a few steps back so everyone could see. He made the famous pose and sang Billie Jeans, attempting to mimic Michel Jackson's style. It would have been okay if everyone hadn't burst out laughing, making Seohyun laugh a little too.

"How did you even come up with this?" Seohyun asked in disbelief.

"I don't even remember now..." Hongjoong pouted. He spun the bottle, and it landed on Wooyoung.

"Truth," he smiled rather proudly, folding his arms.

"Who do you love more, Hongjoong or Seonghwa?" Yeosang asked. The rest of them laughed as Wooyoung's eyes went wide in panic.

"That's like you're asking if I like mom or dad more! Isn't this unfair?"

"Who did you like more though?" Jongho asked.

"Mom-"

"You like Seonghwa more. Alright, next!" Hongjoong concluded, leaving Wooyoung attempting to explain that it was not like that anymore and he liked both of them equally, but everyone was ignoring him. Seohyun thought it must be an inside joke too.

"Your turn," San smirked at her. Seohyun, who had been distracted and hadn't seen the bottle spin, eyed them suspiciously.

"I move my eyes off the bottle for a second and it lands on me. Are you sure you didn't cheat?"

"We did NO SUCH THING," Wooyoung huffed.

Seohyun locked eyes with each of them. "Fine. Truth."

She watched as the boys looked at each other, suggesting questions while Seohyun tried to calm the rumbling storm of nervousness in her stomach. Should she have gone with dare?

"Can we ask... anything?" Mingi looked at her and Seohyun shrugged.

"I mean, we're friends now, right? So go ahead. If I think it's too personal, I'll say so." Seohyun nodded and the boys looked at each other before finally turning to her.

"What's the real reason you don't have friends?"

Seohyun's eyes unintentionally went to San's, and the boys noticed, looking between the two of them. San shrugged, as if saying 'I tried.'

"Does... San know something?" Seonghwa asked cautiously.

"You don't have to answer, you know that right?" Yeosang added.

Seohyun sighed deeply, nodding. She looked at San again, who nodded back, pointing behind her and mouthing Jiwoo. Seohyun sighed in relief now. She might as well give it a try.

"Since you guys shared something today, I will too. But it's kind of... weird. Unbelievable. You might think I'm lying. You might think worse things. Whatever you think, do tell me, because I can prove it."

"Don't tell me you're some sort of a secret agent," Yeosang said, earning a slap from Hongjoong who shushed him.

"Alright, we'll hear you out," he said.

"I... can see ghosts. The dead."

There was a moment of silence before Jongho raised his eyebrow. "What? You mind saying that again?"

"I said I can see the dead. I can see ghosts. I can touch them. I help them move on."

While the boys exchanged looks, still in disbelief, San smiled at her and Seohyun nervously laughed. She had finally said it out loud.

"So you can... see ghosts? Like in the movies?" Mingi asked.

"Yep. They're just like us. Unless they're old."

"How do we believe you? I mean, you could be joking," Yunho asked.

"Well, San knows," Seohyun said, and everyone looked at San, who nodded, then looked back at her.

"How does he know?" Wooyoung asked.

"Long story. He got caught up in something, which led him to discover my secret and eventually led him to seeing ghosts too."

"You both are mad." Wooyoung laughed nervously.

"You want proof?" Seohyun challenged.

"Sure. I can do with that," Wooyoung folded his arms, anticipating.

"Alright folks, you're in for a surprise," Seohyun heard Jiwoo say. Jiwoo rubbed her hands and went near Seohyun, picking her hair and making it look like it was flying in the air.

The boys... shouted.

"MEDUSA!" She heard someone shout amidst them. San tried to calm them down but it was no use. They all were... freaking out, to put it simply. Half of them were gasping while the other half was laughing in disbelief.

Jiwoo dropped her hair down and they watched as she pulled the sunglasses off her shirt and the glasses magically disappeared.

"Where did the glasses go?" Wooyoung asked.

"Ji- the ghost. Her name is Jiwoo. She's a friend of mine. So when she takes something of mine, it would disappear once I'm not holding it anymore. But-" Jiwoo handed her the glasses back and they watched it appear out of thin air, "when she gives them back, here they are."

"Is this... magic or really a ghost?" Jongho asked.

"It's a ghost, believe me," San finally said.

"So you can see ghosts now too? How?"

"Let me explain," Seohyun said, and narrated the events, giving a little backstory about how she was born with this, and that she actually helped ghosts move on.

"That's kind of cool though," Yunho commented.

"Wouldn't call it cool," Seohyun muttered and Seonghwa noticed.

"It must not be easy to live like this..." he said, and she hesitantly nodded.

"Is that why you changed schools so often?" Hongjoong asked and she nodded. The boys looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that again," Yeosang said, "We'll help you. You won't have to move again if something happens."

"It's not that easy, Yeosang. If something unexplainable happens, I won't be able to hide it."

"Oh don't worry about that," Mingi laughed, "unexplainable things always happen to me. We'll cover for you, trust me."

Seohyun was, for the first time, touched by how earnest they sounded. They really were a weird group of friends.

"I'm kind of jealous that San can see ghosts now too," Hongjoong sulked. "Can't we see too?"

Before Seohyun could answer, everyone else burst into complains too about how they wanted to see too. "Hey hey," Seohyun began, "first of all, it's too risky. I almost died and then San was able to see."

"WHAT!"

"You forgot to tell them that part," San muttered.

"Ah, right. So when I had to teleport San, we ended up in the other dimension, right? So I had to teleport again, and I had a massive nosebleed plus headache. I passed out too."

"Oh..."

"Even if it was easy, I would never do that to you. And I wish I could take it away from San. I wish it would fade," Seohyun said, and San looked at her, shocked. He had not expected this.

"It's not about it being cool, San," she locked eyes with him, "Being able to see ghosts mean you're attracting danger every second. Thank god you can't touch them. That means they're not able to touch you, not directly. I want you all to be safe, that's why I won't ever do that to the rest of you."

There was a moment of heavy silence, then Seonghwa broke the ice. "I understand. It's okay, you don't have to do that. We want you to be safe too, so if you're ever in some sort of danger, don't hesitate to ask for help."

"Thanks Seonghwa, I really appreciate it." Seohyun smiled.

"It's really unbelievable though. What does this ghost look like?" Wooyoung asked, eyes brimming with curiosity.

Seohyun grinned a little. "Well, she's a girl. Jiwoo. She's about my height, has long black hair with red streaks. Has a mole on her cheek. Also, she's weird-"

Jiwoo kicked Seohyun's back lightly, but she just continued. "She died in a car accident. A ghost with amnesia. Unbelievable is the right word, Wooyoung."

"Woah. She sounds familiar though..." Wooyoung looked towards Hongjoong who shook his head. Seohyun noticed but didn't comment on it.

"So you're waiting for her to remember so she can move on?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yeah. She's been sticking with me for months now, and I got used to her."

"Ah... that's understandable," Hongjoong looked at his wristwatch, "Anyways, we should go home now. it's late."

"I thought we were playing truth or dare. This turned into a horror show. How will I sleep at night!" Mingi wailed dramatically, making them laugh. Wooyoung called him 'scaredy cat' and San said, "Like you're one to say."

Seohyun smiled at Jiwoo. This had been an unexpected night, and she had never expected them to believe her and not make fun of her. She looked at the boys, bickering, and smiled at them.

She felt comfortable.

-----------------

The next few days at school had been... annoying, to put it simply.

The boys were very excited at the new discovery about their friend they had made. They simply couldn't contain themselves- save for San, and Seohyun found her patience wearing off day by day.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful for how things had turned out. She simply hadn't expected this sort of a behaviour. Secondly, she did not know how to deal with 7 excited boys who couldn't stop asking her the most stupid of questions.

She had to admit some of the questions did make sense. Like Yeosang asking if a ghost's touch and human's touch was any different. Seohyun shook her head as she thought of how the question had shook her.

"What do you mean?" Seohyun asked.

"Do you feel different when a ghost touches you? Like, Jiwoo. Does her touch feel different than a regular human's?"

Seohyun inhaled sharply as she was reminded of the time she had spent in her music room, laughing, with him, holding his hand, touching-

"I'm sorry, was it a wrong question?" Yeosang finally asked and Seohyun realized she had been staring at him too long.

"Uh, no. I'm sorry I zoned out. I suppose it is- it is a bit different. I don't know how to explain it. It's not... warm."

Seohyun shook her head as she waved off the memory. Another memory made its way....

"This friend of yours, Jiwoo," Hongjoong asked, "is she here right now?"

"She may not find the idea of dying twice appealing," Seohyun muttered.

"What?" Hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Now why would a ghost attend school? Surely she doesn't wish to die of boredom. AGAIN."

Hongjoong laughed. "So she's not here? Do you know her full name?"

"Ahn Jiwoo, I think," Seohyun replied. She noticed Hongjoong's eyes gleam as his mind worked.

"How old do you think she is? And can you describe how she looks like?"

"Playing detective, are you?" Seohyun raised her brow.

"Just answer. I may have something."

"Well, she looks our age, maybe a year older, she has an average face, honestly I haven't noticed much. She does have red hair."

Hongjoong nodded slowly, and Seohyun asked when he was going to let her in.

"I'll just check something. If it's true, I'll tell you."

Seohyun shook her head again. She should really be focusing on class. But her mind went back to think of the stupid questions. Yunho had asked if 'ghosts could eat' and when she had replied no, he said he was just wondering if they did eat, did they excrete as well. And if so, was the ghost realm full of-

Shit, she thought as she heard Yunho giggling. "You keep shaking your head. What's wrong?"

"Believe it or not, I was actually thinking about you," Seohyun admitted.

"Oh?" Yunho turned a bit towards her, smirking. "And what scandalous thoughts made you shake your head so much?"

"How in the world could your brain wonder if the ghost realm was full of ghost shit?" Seohyun almost shouted, but clearly she hadn't been quite as well. She earned a warning glance from her teacher and sunk in her chair as Yunho shook with silent laughter.

After the class was over, Hongjoong made his way to Seohyun.

"Is Jiwoo here?" He asked.

"Again, no. Why are you so interested in her?" Seohyun folded her arms and Hongjoong snatched Seonghwa's seat from his spot, sitting near her and placing a book on her desk.

"This is last year's yearbook. We have some photos from an event, and I want you to tell me if you spot Jiwoo."

Seohyun raised her eyebrows. Jiwoo- she could have been a student here?

She supposed it was possible. San turned too, muttering how he can recognize her too, and they flipped the pages, checking each one carefully until finally San pointed at a person and looked at Seohyun, who had paled.

"That's... Jiwoo. How did you know, Hongjoong?"

"I guessed when you told me her name. San told me how she had died of an accident and had amnesia, and I could remember hearing something about a senior here who had died in a car crash. So I put 2 and 2 together and here we are."

"But, this doesn't help much, right? We only know that she was a student here. What's this got to do with how she died, and why she is still here?"

"There were rumours circulating her death," Hongjoong sat back, "Her father was a prisoner falsely accused of some crimes, and she was trying to get justice. I talked to some of my senior friends, who had been her classmates, and they told me that she had started receiving some threats."

"And they must have given all this information to the police too?"

"Yes," Hongjoong nodded, "Now you know her identity. You can talk to her friends, go to her home, and finally help her move on."

San felt his heart sink as he looked at Seohyun. They both were thinking the same thing. Seohyun had grown very attached to her and she did not want to do this. She gulped, and nodded slowly.

"Of course. I guess I should thank you..." As the words left Seohyun's mouth, Hongjoong heard something bitter in her tone.

"Did I do something wrong?" Hongjoong asked, and Seohyun didn't reply, only shook her head no, and San shushed Hongjoong, mouthing that he'd explain later. Seohyun got up abruptly, her bag falling off from the chair. But she didn't hear it. She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything.

"I need some air," she muttered and rushed out of the classroom, leaving the boys staring.

"Shit," San clicked his tongue, "You did the right thing, Hongjoong, but you have to understand. Jiwoo is her friend. A sister to her. If she moves on... I should go after her."

"Are you sure I did the right thing?" Hongjoong asked him as he gave him space to move. San nodded and went after Seohyun.

"It looks like there's more to the story than she lets on," Yeosang commented. Hongjoong only looked at the door. It did seem like it.

San ran around the 1st floor where their class was, then went downstairs, hoping she was somewhere here. After checking the empty rooms, he went outside, towards the lawn, and found a figure sitting near a tree, staring in the space. He narrowed his eyes, then spotted the cat wandering around her, and his shoulders sank in relief.

He wasn't sure if he was the right person to be there. Surely Seonghwa could comfort her better. Or Yunho. But he was the only one other than Seohyun who would miss Jiwoo. He could relate to her, somewhat. So he decided to sit down beside her.

As he did so, he realized she was shaking. San looked at her worried. "Seohyun? Are you alright?"

Seohyun couldn't breathe. She was having some sort of an attack, like the ones she had about two years ago. She heard San alright, but she was afraid if she spoke, she'd cry.

"Here, have some water," San uncapped the bottle and closed her hand around it, and she managed a sip then handed it back to San.

"This is about Jiwoo, right? She's your friend, and you don't want to let go of her. I understand, Seohyun."

Seohyun sighed, fisting her hands. It wasn't just about her. It was the flood of memories that had come crashing without a warning when she thought of Jiwoo disappearing.

San put his hand on hers, caressing it, hoping it would give her some sort of comfort. He looked at her. All her walls, her strong walls she put around her were breaking down. Her lips were parted and wobbling. She looked like she might cry any second.

"You want to talk about it?" he whispered, and she sighed, nodding, taking deep breaths. She wouldn't cry. Not right now.

"You know it. I have grown attached to Jiwoo. Hell, she practically lives with me. I shouldn't have allowed this in the first place. I knew she was going to move on someday, yet I grew emotionally attached to her. I'm so weak."

"You're strong because you helped her too. She had no memories. How do you think she would have felt if not for you? She couldn't even go to her family or friends. You became that for her."

"I know," Seohyun bit her lip. "It's not just that. It's... I- I had someone. Like her. He and I... We were close. And one day, he was gone-" She bit her lip again, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay. You had no one then, right? You have us now. You have more friends than you could have ever thought of. You're so brave, Seohyun," San said, putting an arm around her shoulder, rubbing her back as he smiled. "You're one of the strongest people I know. We're both going to miss Jiwoo, but we have to help her move on. You don't want her to stay here too long now, do you?

Seohyun shook her head. San smiled again as she looked at him, making her smile a bit too. "There. We'll send her off with a celebration, okay? No more sadness. Okay?"

"Okay," Seohyun smiled. She could do that.

"Let's get back to class," San said, getting up first then helping her up. She dusted off her clothes and they walked in comfortable silence back, though San had to admit he felt weird. His heart... wasn't acting right.

Hongjoong casted a cautious glance at Seohyun as she entered, but she passed a little smile as she settled. Yeosang looked curiously at her, and she made a face.

"Is something bothering you?" Yeosang finally asked. He watched as Seohyun sighed. Sometimes it felt to him like she was carrying the weight of the whole world on her shoulders. Like she would bend under the pressure.

But she was strong too. She passed a little smile and said, "Yes. I'll talk about it later."

Yeosang just nodded, watching her curiously as she stared at her notebook. And then she sat back in her seat, staring at San.

---------------

"You're telling me that I was a student here? That this is a big, big 'coincidence' that you had to transfer, of all the schools in the city, right here?"

"For the hundredth time, Jiwoo, yes. I know you think I transferred here on purpose, that I somehow found about your life and didn't tell you, but believe me, this is a big, big coincidence." Seohyun replied, looking at San for help.

San shrugged, saying, "The way you're always hanging around Seohyun, when do you think she even had the time to plot this?"

Seohyun clapped her hand, smiling approvingly at San. "See? I told you he isn't that dumb. That is a great point, San." She watched as San shook his head, the faintest trace of smile on his lips.

The three of them- with the cat, of course, had this meeting in the same park that Seohyun and San had once teleported in. It had took a few days for Seohyun to finally settle with the fact that yes, Jiwoo was going to move on. But it won't be like before.

Seohyun found herself thinking of that time. The piano. His slender fingers gracefully playing music. His hands guiding hers across the keys. His contagious laugh. His deep eyes, covered by dark tendrils of hair-

"Earth to Seohyun?" Jiwoo was clapping in front of Seohyun now and she blinked. She cast a quick glance at San, who was watching her more confused than curious.

"Yeah. I'm back. What are you planning?"

"I suggested we show her the photo. She might recognize some people from the photo." San said.

"Also, I walked around the school building a few times, and it did feel familiar. I thought it was just because it was a school and schools are, you know, pretty much built the same. But I would have the strongest of headaches when I walked there," Jiwoo admitted.

"A ghost having headaches? Here's something to tell Yunho," Seohyun thought out aloud, "Though one might think that death would relieve you of all worldly headaches..."

"It's probably because of my amnesia. But yeah, San's right. I'll have a look at the photo. I'll come to school tomorrow."

----------

"Wow, that's me," Jiwoo gasped.

"Of course it's you," Seohyun muttered. Jiwoo ignored her and continued to stare at her picture. Seohyun cast a look at the boys. They were watching the book flip pages on its own, their mouths slightly open in surprise.

"She can hear us, right?" Wooyoung asked Seohyun, who wanted to make fun of Wooyoung but wasn't quite in the mood. She was more busy thinking if Jiwoo would indeed remember something.

"Come closer, Jongho. We're still in class, no one should see the book moving on its own," Mingi motioned with his hand.

"No one is looking unless you start acting weird," Yeosang commented.

"I'm having the worst headache right now. Is this normal?" Jiwoo asked.

"You're a ghost, unnie. Nothing's normal about you."

Jiwoo tsk-ed at her and then looked at Hongjoong. "He should know something about where exactly I died. If it was an accident, I might be able to remember something."

"Not sure if that would work," Seohyun's mood was very gloomy. San shook his head at her, and she sighed before asking Hongjoong if he knew something about where she had died.

Hongjoong, to Seohyun's dismay, said he'd find out in a minute. It looked like he texted one of his friends, and while they were waiting for an answer, San told the boys what was happening just so they would stop asking after each second.

Seohyun caught Hongjoong glancing at her, as if trying to convey a message. Seohyun understood and casually checked her phone, indeed finding a text from Hongjoong, which read:

There's a possibility that her death might not have been an accident

Seohyun frowned. Was she murdered? Or did she commit suicide? She felt as if it would hurt Jiwoo no matter the answer.

What do you mean?

Hongjoong replied:

I'll tell you later.

With that, Hongjoong told Seohyun out loud that his friend would have to ask around for the address, and that settled it. Jiwoo announced that she was gonna roam around the school again, and maybe that would make her remember something too. She asked San to remind Hongjoong to find out her home address too. That would certainly spark a bulb, if nothing else.

As soon as Jiwoo walked out of their classroom, Hongjoong brought everyone closer. "My friend gave me the address. It's near a restaurant here."

"Why didn't you tell Jiwoo?" San asked.

"When Jiwoo passed away, her friends were told that it was an accident. But according to my sources, they say she was out with some of her friends. They had somehow gotten in an argument, causing her to flee and accidentally crash with a car."

"So it is an accident, right?" Seonghwa asked.

"That's the thing. Some people say that one of them pushed her in front of the traffic, and that they are all covering it up. We have got to find out what happened. Before we tell Jiwoo."

Seohyun pursed her lips. This is not how she thought it would have turned out. Sure, most of the ghosts she dealt with had usually been murdered. But that didn't make hearing any of this easier.

"Alright, we will find out. We need to distract Jiwoo. San, you'll help me out, right?"

"Of course," San said, sitting straighter. Seohyun laid out their plan; they were gonna divide into two. San, Wooyoung, Yeosang and Jongho would lead Jiwoo to a false address, somewhere far from where the rest of them were going to go and actually investigate what really happened. If she had died in a car crash, however that happened, the people around would remember and would be able to recall the incident.

After school, they told Jiwoo that she would go with San to check if that was the right place, since Hongjoong's source could be 'unreliable'. Meanwhile the rest of them were going to find out her home address by asking around. Jiwoo didn't suspect them thankfully, and gladly went along with them.

"I have the home address too," Hongjoong said, "It's on the way to the restaurant. We should pass by there too."

"Yeah," Seohyun muttered. "Do you think I should talk to her family too?"

"I think you should, but after we visit the restaurant. That would certainly give us more information. because all you have now is nothing about the real Jiwoo."

"Point." Seohyun thought it was kind of ironic. She knew nothing about how Jiwoo would have been when alive. The thought of it made her heart twist with pain.

As they walked to the site, Seohyun was so lost in thought that she didn't see the rest of them exchange nervous glances. They all realized that Jiwoo had been her only friend for a good while. And they could definitely see how difficult it was for Seohyun to let her go.

"Can I ask you something?" Seonghwa finally said.

"Whenever someone asks me if they can ask me something, it's usually going to be something about my personal life. Go ahead, shoot."

Seonghwa shook his head. "How many ghosts friends did you have to let go of?"

Seohyun stopped in her tracks. It took her a second before she started walking again. "That is a very good question, Seonghwa."

Mingi and Yunho exchanged looks. They knew she always made remarks like these when trying to avoid something. "Jiwoo has been your friend for a few months. It must be hard for you."

"It is, actually," Seohyun admitted. "And most of my friends, sadly, have been ghosts. They're a better company. I sharpen my dark humor on them. I make a lot of dead jokes, if you haven't noticed that already."

"I did," Mingi raised his hand, smiling sheepishly. "Knowing you can actually see ghosts makes them more funnier."

"I know," Seohyun smiled back.

They finally reached the restaurant. It was a traditional one, with tables set outside as well as inside. Potted plants made for most of the décor, a stark contrast to the mauve and white theme, and the scent of spices filled the air.

Seohyun's eyes traced what could have been a possible path; Jiwoo walking out of the door, a car speeding forward-

"How do you suppose we're gonna find some information? We can't just go and ask them to show us the CCTV footage or something," Yunho said, looking pointedly at the camera.

"We won't have to," Hongjoong said, "We just have to make up a good story. Come on, we're eating something from here."

"Really, Hongjoong? Do you think we have the time?" Seohyun asked.

"Trust me. Come on," Hongjoong said, not waiting for them and walking inside. They seated themselves in the corner, and a waiter came to take their order. After ordering some barbeque, Hongjoong told them that he was going to ask for water while they would be in the middle of eating, and they would start talking about the incident. When the waiter comes, he would hear them talk about it, and provide his comments on the topic without asking.

"If I was the waiter, I'd kick you out," Seohyun said, sitting back and folding her arms, making the rest of them snicker.

"This works every time," Hongjoong said, his eyes glinting with challenge, as he mirrored Seohyun's pose.

"And what if he doesn't talk?" Seohyun asked.

"In that case, I have a backup plan. I don't come unprepared." Hongjoong said, and Seohyun rolled her eyes, looking at Yunho who was sitting beside her.

"Is he always this confident about himself?" She asked.

"When he's sure, yes," Yunho nodded.

"Don't tell me he's a secret investigator or detective or something," Seohyun muttered.

"I could make some similar assumptions about you," Hongjoong muttered back.

"Shut up, blueberry."

"You should, you old-"

"Just because I have grey hair doesn't mean I'm old-"

"Stop it, you both," Seonghwa laughed. Hongjoong pouted. "But do you dye your hair?"

"Yeah. Some years ago I went blonde. Now I prefer the more... dead tones, if you will," Seohyun said, and Mingi grinned. "How's the drum learning going, Mingi?"

"Ah," Mingi sighed, "I still make do with boxes and plates. I think I could do a good freestyle if I had an actual drum set."

"I used to air drum all the time. You should drum along to some songs you like. Really helps."

"I'll try that," he smiled.

"When do you think you're showing us your music room?" Hongjoong asked.

"Not anytime soon," Seohyun said. Before Hongjoong could ask something, they saw the waiter come with their food. Hongjoong muttered ''play along' and started speaking.

"I've been wanting to try this place for a while now. But I heard there was some sort of accident here, so I couldn't come." Hongjoong widened his eyes in signal and Yunho began, "Oh I've tried, and I'll tell you, it's really good."

The waiter set their food, and Seohyun watched Hongjoong and Yunho go on about the restaurant, slightly amused. As soon as the waiter went, Hongjoong frowned at them.

"The three of you could have said something."

"This seemed more natural," Seohyun said. "Two guys raving about food. Nothing suspicious about that."

After a few bites of the amazingly juicy barbeque beef, Mingi asked for water. Hongjoong cleared his throat.

"I heard a girl died somewhere around here. They're saying it could be murder. People these days!"

"I'll tell you, sir," the waiter, a middle aged man with wrinkles around his eyes began, surprising Seohyun, "it was an accident. A bunch of students. The usual crowd. Had an argument and the girl went out in a rush- nobody followed. A few seconds later, we heard a horrible sound and screams. The people out there witnessed it."

"But why would people say she was pushed?" Seonghwa asked.

"People make all sorts of stories, girl," the man said, shaking his head in disapproval. "I was inside. I know none of the friends went after her. The crowd outside was too absorbed with their food. Nobody saw anything until the crash happened."

"Ah.. I see. So I guess since this was an accident, the matter cleared up quickly? With the police and all?"

"Of course," the man said, "they saw the footage. Nobody pushed her. A pity that people had to spread rumors like that. Didn't help us. Nobody came here for days."

"I'm sorry that happened," Yunho said, and Seohyun felt that he actually meant it. "I hope more people are coming here now, for the food."

"Oh we're getting back now. Enjoy," the man smiled at them and went away. They all looked at each other.

"So it's an accident. But this doesn't make sense," Seohyun said, "if she died because of her own mistake, why is she still hanging around?"

"Unfinished business?" Mingi suggested.

"Usually happens when someone is killed, but yeah. She must have made it to the hospital and lost her memories during treatment. That must mean she's holding a grudge, or actually has something so important to do that despite her memories being lost, somehow she stuck to this world."

"That makes sense," Yunho said.

They finished the food lost in thoughts, and decided that is that was the case, it was wiser to not talk to her family. She could be holding a grudge against them too.

Though they now knew how Jiwoo had died, and they were one step closer to sorting this all out, Seohyun felt dread creeping upon her.

-------------

"I can't believe you sent me to the wrong address!" Jiwoo exclaimed.

"It wasn't on purpose! Hongjoong's friend confused you with someone else. It seems like he deals with this kind of stuff often," Seohyun was nodding her head along, as if that could convince Jiwoo. "And anyway, at least it wasn't all a waste. We're going to the place where you died, are you sure you're ready?"

"Born ready," Jiwoo said, pumping her fist in the air.

"Born ready but-"

"Don't, Seohyun, just don't" San cut her off, shaking his head. Jiwoo laughed. Seohyun pouted but stopped.

The three of them were going to the place where Jiwoo had her accident. It was only yesterday that Seohyun had come with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi, and had falsely led Jiwoo to someplace else with the rest of the boys. Now, upon constant insistence of Jiwoo, the two of them decided they'd better take her.

It wasn't because Jiwoo threatened to summon a bunch of revengeful ghosts. Nope. It certainly hadn't been that.

"We're close now," San said, pointing ahead, "It's right across the road. You should start looking on your own now. Without distractions."

"Don't look at me, San," Seohyun muttered.

"You're right. You both can... wait for me here. I'll see if it rocks a memory," Jiwoo said, and went ahead, leaving the two of them watching her go.

"Do you think we should be there for her?" Seohyun finally asked, "The memories might be painful."

"I think she should just walk down memory lane. We'd only distract her. Going on her own is sure to bring back some memories."

"I still wonder what made her stay," Seohyun said, and San looked at her. It was one of those moments when she was not wearing a filter. San felt like he was intruding- it was rare to see her so... present. There.

"Have you dealt with many murder cases? Or suicide ones?" San finally asked.

"You think it's one of the two?" She asked.

"I think it could be something simple. I know if I died today, the only reason I'd hang here would be to say a final goodbye. That is, if I die suddenly."

"Believe it or not, those are the hardest," Seohyun turned towards San, "With other cases, it's usually finding justice, or personal satisfaction. But goodbyes are difficult. I wouldn't want that for anyone. It's harder for those who are living."

San narrowed his eyes at her for the briefest moment. It felt like sometimes she meant more with what she spoke. Like there was a backstory he did not know.

"It looks like you've had some experience with that," San asked cautiously. Seohyun bit her lip and he saw the slightest of tremble in her hand before she closed them in a fist. She was suddenly reminded of San's hand on hers comforting her.

"You're right, actually," Seohyun finally said, surprising San, "I'll tell you. I need to move on too."

"You don't have to," San assured, but she shook her head.

"His name was Joon Hyuk. It was two years ago. He and I used to go to the same music academy. We were only friends then, not close, until he passed away suddenly. He had a heart problem."

"I'm sorry to hear that," San said. He truly was. He couldn't imagine how he'd cope if one of his friends met the same fate.

"I was shook, but that wasn't the end of the story. He was hanging on because he wanted to say goodbye to his family. It took him a few days, and I helped him come to terms with his death. That's when we grew close. I used to be home alone, and we'd just sit in the music room and talk all night. He told me all about his life. I told him about mine. He taught me to play the piano." Seohyun shivered a bit but continued. "He said his goodbye, but he still didn't move on."

"Does that usually happen?" San asked.

"No. It was because he found something to stay for. Me."

The breeze made San shiver too as it settled in. His heart twisted with emotions he couldn't recognize. He wanted to comfort Seohyun somehow, but he stood frozen.

"Ironic, isn't it? He found something to live for when he had already died." Seohyun's lips quivered. She stared at the light bulb near her, hoping it would force back her incoming tears. This wasn't the time to cry. She looked at San and smiled, "I knew it was wrong. But I was so alone. I craved friendship. I craved love. And I got it for a while. It was short. He started to change. You remember the old man?"

San nodded. The man because of whom he could now see ghosts too.

"It's like the process sped up. He started to become bitter. It would come and go. When he was sane, I finally told him to move on before he became- that, before I had to force myself to send him away. And he did. Without a goodbye this time. I guess that was the only way he could manage it."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Seohyun. I-"

San wanted to say so much but they heard a scream which was unmistakably Jiwoo's, and with a look at each other, they rushed to the source of the sound. They found Jiwoo clutching at her head, down on the ground

Seohyun rushed to her, sitting down and hugging her, muttering comforting stuff that San couldn't make out. He just stood and provided cover, hoping no one would notice Seohyun hugging the air.

It took a few seconds for Jiwoo to calm down, and when she did, she sighed loudly, looking at the sun.

"It's coming back," she announced. "I remember how I died. My own fault. How dumb is that?" She laughed.

"Glad to see you're back in your spirits," San scoffed.

"You, boy, have been making unintentional puns," Jiwoo scoffed back, making Seohyun grin.

"So how much do you remember?"

"It's coming back. You guys should go your own way. I'll just wait for it to come back. I think I know where to go too. I remember my home. I think- I think I know why I'm here too."

Seohyun and San shared a look. "You wanna tell us?"

"I gotta check something first," Jiwoo said, getting up and helping Seohyun up too. "Off you go."

"Weirdo," Seohyun muttered and Jiwoo just waved at her before she started walking. Seohyun was resting her hands on her hips, tapping her jeans, watching her go with a frown.

"IF YOU MOVE ON WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE I'LL HUNT YOU EVEN IN THE AFTERLIFE OR WHEREVER IS IT THAT YOU GHOSTS GO!" Seohyun shouted at Jiwoo, startling San and the couple walking past.

"YOU BETTER HOLD A FREAKING FAREWELL PARTY THEN!" Jiwoo shouted back. Before Seohyun could retort, San took her by the arm and dragged her in the opposite direction, laughing and telling her she should stop before the whole neighbourhood comes out.

"I'll walk you home," San said. He wasn't sure if now was the time to leave Seohyun alone.

"If you insist," Seohyun said, and they walked in silence. San wanted to say something about how she had been wise to send Joon Hyuk off, something to comfort her, but he couldn't find the words. He was sure Seohyun would be too busy thinking about Jiwoo. He decided he'd walk in silence and let her sort her thoughts.

When they finally reached her home, Seohyun looked at San. "You wanna stop for some coffee? Maybe a snack?"

"Oh no, don't bother," San waved her off.

"I have chocolate chip cookies," Seohyun wiggled her eyebrows.

"That's not fair. Lead the way," he said, and Seohyun smiled in victory, letting him in.

Though the house looked plain from the outside, it wasn't such inside. It was well decorated, the brown and white reflecting the walls and the floor, and had an overall homey feel. Plus, it was quite spacious. No wonder she had a music room here.

San sat on the table in the kitchen, looking around while Seohyun made two cups of coffee. The refrigerator had fruit magnets with various lists sticking. Grocery, things to do. Doodles. San smiled. It really did look like Seohyun lived here. His eyes fell on her figure as she rocked back and forth, mixing the coffee. Her hair created quite a contrast with her navy blue shirt. The soft grey hair looked fluffy.

Seohyun turned around, catching San staring at her, and he shifted in his seat as Seohyun set the two cups and the cookies. San took one and bit into it.

"Oomph, that's delicious."

"Thank you. I made them."

"No way!" San was genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you liked baking."

"I like making food," Seohyun admitted, sipping the coffee.

"That sounds so mundane now," San laughed.

"What do you think I did at home? Made talismans?" Seohyun scoffed and San almost choked on his coffee.

"You surprise me everyday, Seohyun. We must look quite boring to you," San said.

"Well," Seohyun munched on the cookie, "You aren't boring. None of you are, actually. Why don't you tell me something I don't know about you then?"

"Well," San imitated Seohyun now, "I collect plushies. And I know taekwondo."

"That's... interesting. Taekwondo and plushies. Wow," Seohyun laughed. "Poor Shiber, I guess."

"HEY!" San frowned. "Your turn."

"I didn't realize we were taking turns?" Seohyun raised her brow but thought about it. "My favourite colour is blue."

"Mine's purple," San said. "I hate vegetables."

"Hard not to notice," Seohyun commented, biting into the cookie and thinking. "I want to be a musician."

"Cool. You can compose for us," San smiled and Seohyun smiled back mockingly.

A thought struck her. "Wanna see the music room?"

San raised his brows. "Can I?"

"If you want to?" Seohyun shrugged. "It's okay. That room needs air anyway."

"Alright then," San finished his coffee. Seohyun got up, her heart thumping. She was right. It was about time she opened that room for someone else. About time she let go too.

"Here we are," she said and fished out keys from her pocket (San thought she must carry them everywhere) and opened the room, turning on the light

It was gorgeous, San thought. A piano in the corner, a drum set in the other, couches as they entered, three different guitars hanging by the wall, a violin case resting on the table. The dim white lights made everything seem a bit eerie, but it smelled like roses, and indeed San noticed a scented candle on the table. It felt like a room full of memories.

"I do come in every now and then, but I don't really play anymore." Seohyun looked around.

"Can I see them?" San asked, and Seohyun nodded.

Seohyun watched as San examined the guitars then walked to the piano, running his fingers on the keys and making some sounds, then off to the drum set.

"I'd pay to see you play," he grinned.

"Oh you won't have to. I'll do that for free one day," Seohyun smiled.

"So you don't play anything anymore?"

"Just the violin sometimes. Or drums when I'm angry."

"Can I hear the violin?" San asked and Seohyun looked at him.

"Pretty please?" He made puppy eyes and Seohyun scoffed. "Now how do I reject that?"

Seohyun opened the violin case, saying something about how it's gonna be short. While she tested the strings and the bow, San sat on the piano stool nearby. Seohyun flipped her hair back and inhaled.

And then she played a tune so melodic, a tune so haunting that San wasn't sure if seconds had passed or minutes. He only saw her face, etched with the most emotions he'd seen on a single person. It was as if she was telling him a secret, baring her soul to him, and he just couldn't decipher it.

When she did stop, San felt short of breath. He just stared at her in awe and she came closer, already having put the violin back. "How was it?"

"That was... breathtakingly beautiful. You were amazing," San said and immediately felt like he should have said something more.

But she seemed to understand. "Thank you," she said. She was leaning against the piano. San got up and came closer.

"Thank you, Seohyun," he said, touching the tendrils of hair that fell on her shoulder, "For everything."

"I- I've done nothing," she almost whispered. San locked eyes with her, still playing with her hair, now his thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek.

Seohyun stared back at the dark orbs, his gaze so sharp that a part of her wanted to run away but the other part wanted to never look away. San blinked once, then slowly, painfully slowly brought his face closer and kissed her cheek lightly, leaving her out of breath.

Thank you for playing for me," San said, "I'll never forget it."

And then he drew back, and Seohyun came out of the trance.

"If you sugar coat it so much I'll never bring you here again," Seohyun was smiling.

"Nah. Now I'll wait for the day you're angry," San winked, pointing at the drums. "I should give pointers to Mingi."

"HEY!"

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flourgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Even If It’s a Lie

Part I to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter drags you to one of his frat parties, and you realize something you should have a long time ago.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SO much angst, and lots of pining from Y/N. A couple swear words here and there.

A/N: I liked writing the first one so much that I couldn’t stop when it came to this one! Enjoy :-)

“This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye” -The Last Time, Taylor Swift

“Pete, I don’t know about this…” you said, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked like a completely different person in the short burgundy dress that MJ had picked for you. The shiny satin contrasted with your dirty, white sneakers that hadn’t seen the light of day since you played tennis in the 9th grade.

“Trust me,” MJ had said when she was choosing your outfit earlier that day, “You don’t wanna wear any shoes that you actually like to a frat.”

“Why can’t you go with him again?” you whined, wishing Peter had somebody, anybody else, to accompany him to his “induction ceremony” into Sig Ep.

“I don’t think I’m what any of those frat guys meant when they said ‘Bring a hot girl’. Plus, you were Peter’s first choice,” MJ replied, nonchalantly biting her nails as you held the dress up to yourself. “That’s the one.”

“I’m not hot,” you sighed as you started to hang the many rejected dresses spread across your floor back onto the rack. “I wore a sweater with a cat on it yesterday. That I hand-knitted.”

“Well... you’re cute. And that’s good enough. Plus, you can keep Parker from getting plastered. You know he’s a lightweight,” MJ laughed, reminding you of the many times Peter had called you to pick him up from a late night of partying.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, still worried about the fact that you did not like parties. Or strangers, or crowds, or really anything that involved socializing with more than four people at a time. Peter had been the same way all throughout high school. That’s what made you guys so close, but... things hadn’t been the same since you started college.

Peter ran from the other room, smoothing the wrinkles out of the gray t-shirt that fit him just right. You saw him grin from behind you in the mirror’s reflection, and he placed his hands on his shoulders, jostling you lightly.

“Y/N! Are you excited! It’s your first college party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to look him in the eyes. You stared down at your feet, self conscious over how short you felt in your sneakers next to him.

“That’s not true. I’ve been to parties before! Ned’s birthday was just last month,” you reminded him. “Don’t you remember how you watched me bake a cake from scratch and your only ‘contribution’ was eating the buttercream?”

Peter laughed, ruffling your hair like you were his little brother. “No, Y/N, I meant a real party. With booze and music that’s so loud that you can’t hear what someone is saying. That kind of party.”

Your brows furrowed as you began to fully accept that Peter had changed. So, so much. He wasn’t the dorky kid from Queens that carried your books and watched your favorite animated movies with you just because anymore. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It didn’t take his spidey-senses for Peter to realize how upset he had made you. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to experience everything college has to offer.”

“I think you do that enough for both of us,” you muttered, plopping dramatically onto the couch. Peter followed you, running his fingers gently across your arm as you pouted into a throw pillow. “Couldn’t you have asked any other girl to participate in your frat’s misogynistic tradition?”

“I didn’t want to ask anybody else,” Peter replied. You sat up to look at him, fixing your hair and smoothing out your dress. “I promise, Y/N. I miss you. We never hang out like we used to.”

You rolled your eyes. “And whose fault is that? You’re always—”

“—it’s mine. I know that. So, just come with me tonight and let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, pulling out his signature puppy dog eyes that you could never say no to. “Come on. All you have to do is say the word and we can leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

----------------

Your nerves worsened the closer you got to the frat houses, not mentally prepared for how loud the music would be or all of the sweaty bodies that would inevitably be pressed against you on the dance floor.

As you approached Sig Ep, Peter gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. He looked deep into your eyes, “Y/N. I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me that you’re ready to go and we’ll leave.”

“You promise?” you asked, chewing on your lip.

“Promise,” Peter smiled, holding out his pinky to intertwine with yours.

Some tall, buff guy was standing at the doorway and greeted Peter with a fist bump. “Hey, Parker! Good work with the dime! She got a boyfriend?” You recoiled at his attitude towards you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

“Nah, Ryan. She’s off limits.” Peter replied coolly, pulling you inside.

You heard Ryan wolf-whistle from his post, causing you to roll your eyes. “Hell yeah! Didn’t know little Petey had it in him!”

Peter wrapped his arm around you, partly to make you feel better, but also because there wasn’t much space for you two to squeeze your way into the kitchen. “Just ignore him,” he said, handing you a red plastic cup, a bottle of Sprite, and a shot glass of vodka.

You peered up at him, unsure. You weren’t much of a drinker, but maybe, just maybe, it would help you ease up on your nerves. Swirling the liquids together into the cup, you downed it before recoiling from the burn. Cheap vodka sucked, you remembered.

“That’s my girl!” you barely heard Peter say from right next to you, feeling him patting your back before he did two shots himself, swallowing them as if they were water. “Come on, I have some people who’ve been dying to meet you.”

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. He had called you his girl. You gripped his hand tightly as he led you down the hallway and onto the back patio, where a group of people sat crowded around a bonfire.

A girl with bleach blonde hair and a dark green dress that hugged her figure came running up to the two of you, practically jumping into Peter’s arms as she greeted him. “Peter! I’ve been waiting for you. Come on, you can sit next to me.”

She pulled Peter towards the bonfire, patting the empty spot on one of the benches next to her. Peter turned to nod at you, gesturing for you to follow them. Once again, it felt like you were invisible to almost everybody at this party.

The blonde girl leaned close to Peter’s face, giggling with an obvious drunkenness. “So, who’s your little friend?” she asked, waving her fingers towards you like you were some kind of pet.

“This is Y/N, my best friend.” Friend. That’s all you’d ever be to him, especially when there were girls like her around.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy. Peter and I met in our thermodynamics class last semester,” she smiled, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “You should’ve seen him! He made everything look so easy.” You already knew that. Peter could do anything he set his mind to.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with her bright, gray eyes, which matched Peter’s shirt. “So, uh, who are you here with?”

“Oh, duh!,” she said before tapping the guy on her left’s shoulder, pulling him out of the conversation he was having with the people next to him. “This is Harry Osborn. We go way back. Harry, this is, uh…”

“Y/N,” you reminded her.

“Right! Y/N. She’s Peter’s friend,” Gwen told him. He nodded his head and offered a small wave before returning to his conversation. Of course, you thought to yourself. Peter had only asked you to come with him tonight because she was unavailable.

You stared back down at your stupid shoes as Peter and Gwen talked about titrations and bond solutions. Things that you knew nothing about. Was this why Peter was always out at parties? To see her?

You thought about Peter’s promise. Just tell him, you thought. Tell him you want to leave. But you knew that you wouldn’t. You knew that you couldn’t ruin Peter’s fun just because you decided to be a baby and get scared after just thirty minutes into your very first frat party.

Looking back up at Peter and Gwen, who now had her arms draped around his neck, you excused yourself to the restroom, wherever that was. You just needed a break. Peter nodded towards you before turning back to smile at Gwen.

----------------

A banging on the bathroom door startled you. “Hey, uh, could you, like, HURRY UP? I have to take a piss,” a boy yelled from the other side. You got up from the edge of the bathtub that you had been sulking on for the past five minutes to open the door.

“Oh. Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t know it was you.” It was Flash Thompson. Flash, the guy who had made Peter’s life a living hell in high school. “God, you look good. Hey, how’s about you waiting out here for me and we could, you know, catch up?” He winked at you and you wanted to throw up.

Your first instinct was to say no. How could you give Peter’s bully the time of day? But you thought about Peter and Gwen. Gwen. Gorgeous and smart and better than you in every possible way, who was probably sitting in Peter’s lap by now and running her fingers through his hair. Your heartbeat quickened as rage rushed through your body. You wanted to hurt Peter, like he had hurt you. “Yes,” you replied, before he slammed the bathroom door in your face.

One minute later, you were pulling Flash down the stairs and towards the backyard. “You washed your hands, right?” you asked, desperately hoping that the answer would be yes.

“Don’t worry, babe. I just peed. Everyone knows that as long as you don’t get it on your hands you’re all good,” he mused. “You use less water that way, too. Save the planet, am I right?”

You dropped his hand, mentally rolling your eyes, and continued trudging towards the bonfire. You watched as Peter turned to smile at your reappearance, which swiftly dropped once he saw who you were with. It seemed like Gwen had backed off when you were gone too. Was this some kind of weird, territorial act that she was putting on to prove that Peter liked her and not you?

Maybe you were overthinking, but it was too late to backtrack. You sat back down on your place next to Peter, the awkwardness thick in the air. Flash had decided to squeeze himself between the two of you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Peter leaned forward and shot you a dirty look, which you immediately recognized as his “What the fuck, Y/N?” face.

A familiar voice boomed from behind, and you turned around to find Ryan had finally tapped out of bouncer duty to join the festivities. “Who’s ready for Truth or Dare!”

Shit. You hated truth or dare. Peter knew that. Ever since you had been dared to kiss Tyler Rosado in the 7th grade and he laughed right in your face before flat out rejecting you, the game had become a sore spot.

But you looked at Peter, who was cheering alongside the rest of the group, excited as ever to participate in the game that you swore you’d never play again. He doesn’t care, you thought to yourself, not like he used to.

You felt a vibration from your pocket and scrambled to pull your phone out of your jacket. Well, Peter’s jacket. The one he had let you wear on the way here because you were cold. It was a text from MJ.

“How’s everything going?”

“Not good”, you replied, adding multiple sad face emojis at the end of your message.

“What did that idiot do this time?,” she asked. It was like you could hear her “I’m so going to beat Peter up for this” voice through the screen.

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” you sent, before locking your phone and sliding it back into the jacket pocket.

“Alright, alright, alright. So, who’s up first?” You heard Ryan ask, remembering the terrible event that was taking place right before you. “Hey! Gwen, how about you do us the honors?”

“Of course!” she chirped back. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I know you are,” Ryan laughed, causing the crowd of people to whoop and holler around you. “So, truth or dare.”

“Definitely dare,” she slurred, taking another sip from her beer.

“Who’s got a dare for pretty, little Gwen here? Anybody?” Ryan asked, looking around the backyard.

Flash raised his hand. Fuck. Why did you think that it would be a good decision in any way, shape, or form to bring him with you?

“Gwen, I dare you to make out with the hottest guy here!” he giggled, obviously thinking that she’d pick him. What a dumbass.

She smirked, before turning to Peter. “Gladly,” she said as she moved to press her lips against his. You struggled to watch as they made out right next to you, much to both you and Flash’s dismay. It felt like it had been going on for forever when they finally stopped sucking each other’s faces and the crowd’s cheers died down.

That was it. That was the last straw. You got up from where you were sitting and headed back towards the front door, having had enough of frat parties for the rest of your miserable life. Peter probably wouldn’t even notice that you were gone.

You felt hot tears fall down your cheeks as you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, calling MJ as fast as you could. “Could you come get me,” you managed to choke out. “This—this was a mistake. Please, just come get me.”

MJ asked for your address and let you know that she’d be by in a couple of minutes. You plopped onto the front steps, emotionally and physically exhausted from all that Peter had put you through tonight.

A few minutes later, MJ’s car pulled up in front of Sig Ep, and she ran out to hug you, gently rubbing your back to get you to stop crying. “Where is he?,” she asked angrily, glaring towards the frat house.

You pulled her back, sniffling at her, “Don’t. I just want to go home.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with him later,” MJ said, before the two of you got into her car and drove back to the apartment that you shared. Upbeat pop music played on the stereo, which you promptly shut off, preferring to mope with your head on the windowsill, staring out at the cloudy night sky.

MJ unlocked the front door, and you were greeted by Ned and Betty sitting on the living room floor around a Monopoly board. Betty was obviously winning, and Ned was almost bankrupt.

“Y/N!” Betty squealed, getting up off the rug to hug you. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“It was Peter,” MJ muttered, shooting daggers at Ned.

“What!? I can’t control him,” Ned tried to reason. “Y/N, on behalf of my idiot roommate, I’m sorry for whatever he did this time.”

“It’s okay, guys. I just really want to go to bed, okay?” you told them, heading towards your bedroom.

You kicked off your sneakers and threw Peter’s stupid jacket, which smelled just like him, onto the chair in the corner, plunking yourself face first into the mattress. Ned, Betty, and MJ stood in your doorway, watching the entire thing.

“Yeah… I don’t think she’s okay,” Ned whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

Betty hit him on the head. “Ow!,” Ned replied, rubbing his temple from where she had flicked him.

“Will you all just shut up and leave me alone!?,” you screamed, startling your friends.

“Yeah, of course. Just tell us if you need anything, Y/N. We’ll be right outside,” MJ reassured you, before shutting your door behind her.

----------------

You woke up the next morning to the smell of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup wafting throughout the apartment. Dragging yourself to the bathroom, you wiped away the leftover makeup from last night and brushed your teeth, ready to forget about everything that had gone wrong yesterday.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Betty sang from the stove, placing yet another pancake onto the already towering pile before sliding the plate in front of you. “They’re for you. Blueberry, with a little bit of cinnamon, just like how you like ‘em!”

You managed to give her a weak smile, before digging into the breakfast she had so lovingly prepared for you. “Where’s MJ,” you asked, knowing that she would never still be asleep past 7 a.m.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…” Betty answered, obviously trying to deflect from wherever their roommate was. “Apple or orange juice?”

“Apple,” you replied. “No, seriously, Betty. Where is she?”

Betty placed the glass next to your plate of pancakes. A heavy silence hung all throughout the kitchen as you realized the only place that MJ could be right now. She was going to kill Peter.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, scrambling to pull your shoes on and running out the door. Betty mentally cursed herself out for not being able to keep a secret, chasing after you down the stairwell.

“Y/N! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop! Please, MJ is just looking out for you!,” she panted from several stories ahead. Betty had no idea when you had gotten so fast.

“Don’t care! He’s my best friend!” you yelled back, before rushing out onto the sidewalk and running across campus towards Peter and Ned’s dorm room. You hated how much you still cared about Peter after all this time. You hated how much you loved him.

As soon as you reached their door, you frantically knocked on it until Ned opened up. “Oh, Y/N, you’re not supposed to be here. Hey, wait—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, squeezing your way past him and into their common room. There, MJ and Peter sat playing a game of chess. Until MJ transferred to your school, nobody had ever been able to beat Peter in chess. You scanned the board as they became aware of your presence, and felt a sense of pride seeing that MJ had his pieces tied up to ensure that she’d have a checkmate in five. He’d either have to resign or let her pick off his queen, two knights, and rook one by one.

“Oh,” you sighed with relief, seeing that Peter was still alive. Everyone in the room was staring at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

“Well. I’m going to head home. See you later, MJ. Bye!” You turned on your heels and headed towards the door, where Ned was standing with his jaw on the floor.

Peter scrambled to his feet as he caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around just as he had done yesterday. “Y/N. Let me explain,” he whispered softly, like there was nobody else in the room. Curse those damn puppy dog eyes. You were better than this. You needed to stick up for yourself.

“Goodbye, Peter,” you said, before breaking free of his grasp and walking out the door, doing your best not to cry in front of everybody.

He started to follow you before MJ pulled him back, uttering a simple “Don’t.”

Walking back to your apartment, you realized that you had been right all along. Peter had changed, and nothing was ever going to be the same between the two of you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

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The Arrangement Chapter 26 (a)

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: More drunk Jin and Yoongi

AN: This week at school was busy so here is a partial chapter. I will post the rest by Saturday Evening.

Previous Chapter here

You handed Jin the bottle and laughed as you followed him to the kitchen. He pulled out a fancy wine opening gadget and sat there, entranced by it. He carefully placed it on top of the corked lid and pressed the button. A drilling sound filled the air. “What?” Jin asked, looking over at you, “You're not impressed?” He gestured to the opener, clearly thinking you should be.

You smirked, putting a hand on your hip. ”I was a bartender , I could open one of these blind folded, with a pin knife.”

“Well aren’t you just fancy.” Jin teased as he sat a wine glass on the counter.. “Yoongi-ah, do you want any wine or are you sticking with whiskey?” Jin shouted across the living room.

Yoongi looked back up from his phone. “No wine.”

Jin pulled down another glass for just himself and poured. “Describe this wine to me.” HE swished it.

“It’s red and it has a cat on the label.” You said, taking the glass.

Jin pursed his plush lips together, “Really? That’s why you bought the wine?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Hey Yoongi. Why did we buy this wine? Do you remember? It’s red. It has a cat annnnd…..?” You hoped he would play along.

“And it was cheap!” He yelled back.

You smiled and nodded your head in agreement, looking at Jin, “And it was cheap.”

Jin sniffed the liquid and took a sip. He looked vaguely offended but went back for another.

“Not so bad for cheap wine, huh?” You said, taking a sip of yours.

“You two need to accompany me on a wine tasting some time. “ Jin chided. However, he made no attempt to sit the glass down. He walked into the living room and sat down on the pink loveseat.

You loitered in between the kitchen and living room, uncertain of where to go. Red wine plus white couches seemed like a terrible idea; you should have brought vodka.

“Come on over,” Jin waved. “Don’t worry, if you spill the wine I’ll make Yoongi buy me a new couch.”

Yoongi looked over at Jin in slow motion, processing what had just been said. “I do like this couch actually.” He bounced up and down lightly on the white sofa. “Come over here, spill the wine, and then Jin will give it to me. We’ll just throw a blanket over the stains.” He licked his lips quickly trying to hide the smile growing on his lips.

Jin slapped his knee, laughing. “Nice try Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Were they besties now? You pondered as you walked over and sat on the white couch, between Yoongi and Jin. “You two have had quite the afternoon it seems. Who won the game?”

“LA.” Yoongi said stretching, the tiniest bit of his tummy showing, as his shirt pulled up.

“It went by fast,” Jin added as he scrolled through his phone. “It was at the Staples Center. You’ve been to LA, right Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi responded boredly.

“Really? What for?” You asked, excitedly, turning towards him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. I went out there for a collaboration and did some radio interviews.”

“Agust D!” Jin hyped out of nowhere, causing you to laugh. “Have you ever been to the US?” Jin asked you.

You snorted, “Uh, no. Do I look like I’ve ever traveled anywhere?” You sipped your cat wine for emphasis.

“You’ll get there someday,” You heard Yoongi say quietly. You didn't think Jin heard. You smiled and looked over at Yoongi who was now looking down at his hands.

“There’s a big trip to Japan in the Spring. You’ll probably go along, right?” Jin commented.

You raised your eyebrows, “I don’t know. Am I?” You asked Yoongi

He smirked, “I don’t think I’ll fire you between now and then so yeah.”

“You’re so mean!” You teased and playfully shoved his arm.

Jin laughed. “I’m staaaaaarving. When will the food be here?” Jin asked, dramatically draping his lanky body over the side of the loveseat.

You picked up your phone to check the app. “They just turned down the street, I’ll go meet them at the security desk,” You said and started to stand up.

“No, no. I’ll get it. You two are my guests.” Jin got up decisively. “Text me the order so I can double check it before they leave.” He headed towards the door before you could argue. You sat back down and texted him the information before placing your phone back down on the coffee table.

“You know you’re going, right?” You heard Yoongi say.

“Huh?” You asked, looking over.

“To Japan. I mean, I guess if you want to.” He clarified.

You smirked, “Oh yeah? You sure you’re not going to fire me between now and then?”

“And go through an interview process all over again?” He asked, sounding exasperated. “No. That would be way too much work.”

You pouted. He would always say the sweetest things and then follow them up with smart ass comments. It usually didn’t bother you; you were similar. But for some reason, just now, it did.

“What? You don’t want to go?” He asked, noting your change in demeanor.

You exhaled slowly. “That’s not it.” You shook your head, shaking your feelings away. “I look forward to it. Like I said, I haven’t been anywhere.”

“YN, you know I’m not actually going to fire you, right?” He asked, quite seriously.

You scoffed, “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m sure you don’t want to have to deal with your phone ringing in your office again or making your own coffee.”

Yoongi winced slightly. He sipped the whiskey and thought for a few seconds. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” you answered too quickly.

Yoongi looked at you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know.” You uncrossed your legs, “I’m not mad.”

Yoongi eyed you suspiciously.

“I'm fine. Really. I'm looking forward to going. I'm just tired." You lied.

He finished off his drink and stood up. He stretched a bit and then walked over to the kitchen, pouring another drink.

"Rotate with water, you have a photoshoot tomorrow." You yelled.

Yoongi looked like he was going to say something, but decided against it and got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He took a few sips and then walked back over to the couch.

He sat down, staring at you." Go on. "

You laughed awkwardly, " 'go on' what?"

"Drunk Yoongi can't lie. What do you want to know?"

You pursed your lips, "ahhh I should have made a list. I'm terribly unprepared for this."

Yoongi took another sip, "Really? Can't think of anything?"

You started to blush slightly. You could think of lots of things to ask. None of which seemed like a great idea. "It seems like you want me to ask you questions." you tucked a foot underneath your body.

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't know. I'm feeling more relaxed today than I have in a long time. Not just the whiskey. Just the hanging out. Doing normal shit. You know?"

"I do. I'm glad you and Jin are becoming friends."

Yoongi sat still for a moment thinking, "Yeah. I guess we are."

You smiled and grabbed your glass.

"And you. I like hanging out with you too." He added quietly.

"Thanks. I don't even feel like the help most of the time," You quipped. Which was unfair. You knew. You were literally an employee.

He made a whooshing sound through his teeth, “Ah. There it is.” He gestured towards you.

“What?” You asked.

Yoongi cleared his throat and sat the glass down. “You know I like hanging out with you, I just said it. But you are technically my employee. Why get mad about it?” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m mad about.” You shook your head.

“So you are mad?”

Dammit. “Ughhh Yoongi, no. I’m not mad. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair trying how best to explain yourself. “It’s dumb. Anyways, didn’t you also hire me to be your girlfriend?”

Yoongi bit back his immediate answer. He was drunk enough to have fun and let loose, not drunk enough to violate an NDA. He shrugged. “Yeah. Ok. So what. You want to go on a date or something? I told you, I don’t have time to go on dates. You’ve seen my schedule. Besides. I’m taking you to the auction.”

You scowled. “That’s a work function, I’m going as your assistant.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, “I was taking you as my date. To clarify. Do you think anyone else invited their PA?”

“You didn’t ask me like I was your date,” you countered.

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you, “Seriously? That’s what you’re upset about?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. It’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.” You stood up to go refill your glass and to give you a break from this conversation. You had planned to come over here and have fun, not confess to your boss and whine about your relationship status.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist as you started to walk past him. You sighed, “What? I don’t want to talk about my feelings anymore. I don’t want to be analyzed.”

“Will you go to the Auction with me as my date?” Yoongi asked. Taking a deep steadying breath, he continued, “Not as a work thing. Me taking you, as my date.”

You looked down at him. He was making eye contact with the coffee table and his cheeks were bright red, causing you to smile a little. Shy boy. “Yes. I’d like that.” You replied. He gently let go of your wrist. You continued on your trajectory to the kitchen. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657 @niniita-ah @min-yus @or-worse-expelled7 @black-rose-29 @storms-and-stars-blog

#BTS suga #bts writing #bts yoongi #bts fic #suga bts #bts suga x reader #bts suga x you #suga fanfic #suga x you #suga x reader #suga x yn #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n

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contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago

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may your days be meowy and bright

a @geraskierholidayexchange fic for @cosmokitt !! I hope you like it :D

Geralt glares at Jaskier from across the counter. He’s sitting at one of the tables, his head leaned in towards Eskel as they look at something on his phone. Geralt’s sure it can’t be anything good.

He clears his throat obnoxiously, and Jaskier jerks back and smiles at Geralt. Geralt’s not certain of the intent, but it comes off as guilty more than anything else.

Geralt finishes plating the jelly donuts to put in his pastry display, setting them down beside the Christmas cookies, before he wipes his hands off on his apron and ambles over to them. Jaskier slams his phone face down on the table and looks up, folding his hands.

Eskel shoots him a bright grin.

Geralt scowls. “What trouble are you two causing now?”

“Trouble? Us? I can’t even begin to tell you how offended I am,” Jaskier says, a hand dramatically clapped to his chest.

Eskel suppresses a snort. “Did you bring us donuts?”

“You’re going to eat me right out of business,” he says, but he plunks a plate down, anyway.

“Right, right. And you’re okay with that? Amazing, I’ll keep you updated. Thank you!” Jaskier trills into his phone as Geralt closes the door to their apartment behind him, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“Who was that?”

Jaskier stirs a pot on the stove and beams at Geralt. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“You know I hate it when you say that.”

Jaskier ignores the comment. “Tell me what this needs,” he says instead, holding out a spoon.

Geralt comes closer, inhaling the scent of garlic bread from the stove. He takes the spoon and tastes the sauce, humming thoughtfully. “I think it’s fine.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I even bother. You’d eat anything I slopped onto your plate.”

“Yes, and you’re welcome.”

Jaskier winds his arms around Geralt and catches his lips in a kiss. Geralt’s still not sure how he managed to get this lucky, but he’s not complaining. They’ve been living together for about a year now, ever since Jaskier had essentially announced he was moving in.

Well, he didn’t put it like that, exactly. He’d said, “My lease is up in a month, and I really don’t want to look for another place. If only there was a solution,” before draping himself over Geralt’s lap on the couch dramatically.

Who was Geralt to tell him no? He’s had a poor track record, historically.

Maybe that’s why, later, with his head on Jaskier’s chest as he absentmindedly curls his fingers around Jaskier’s chest hair, he only looks a little disgruntled when Jaskier asks him if they can get a cat.

“Come on, darling, it’s the holiday season.” Jaskier bats his eyes at Geralt.

Geralt grunts and shuts his eyes, wrapping an arm around Jaskier and pulling him closer.

Well, Jaskier thinks, it’s as good as a yes.

Jaskier gets off the elevator and looks around furtively before he waves Eskel off. There’s an indignant mewl as the carrier pitches to one side, and Jaskier hisses at Eskel to be more careful. Jaskier hefts his tote bag up higher on his shoulder and looks at his watch.

“Geralt is going to be home in an hour, so we don’t have much time,” he says, swinging open the door.

He was honestly only a little taken aback to see Geralt sitting in their recliner, because nothing can ever go right.

“What are you doing home?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls, and Jaskier gives a nervous laugh.

“This is Duchess,” he says with a flourish. “Just look at her, and I promise you won’t be able to stay mad.”

Geralt turns a betrayed look to Eskel. “You knew?”

“Geralt, it was on the shelter’s Facebook page that she needed a quiet and calm home. You’re the quietest and calmest person I know!”

“Serendipity? It sure seems like it,” Jaskier chimes in.

Geralt rolls his eyes and slowly stands up, walking towards them and peering into the cat carrier. “She seems a little standoffish, so I think you’ll really just be two peas in a pod,” Eskel says, and Geralt glares at him.

Eskel goes to open the carrier, but Jaskier stops him. “Wait! I read that we should introduce her to new spaces slowly so she doesn’t get overwhelmed!”

Geralt and Eskel stare at him for a beat. “God, you’re such a nerd,” Eskel says.

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, but he did devote about four hours to research last night, so he’s not sure he has much of a leg to stand on.

“You’re going to love her,” he says to Geralt, instead.

Geralt huffs. Jaskier’s sure he’ll come around.

In the end, it turns out that it takes longer for Duchess to warm up to Geralt than the other way around, not that Geralt would ever admit it. When Jaskier comes home three days later, it’s to see Geralt’s legs sticking out from under their bed, trying to coax Duchess into coming out.

“Geralt?”

Geralt jerks up, hitting his head and cursing, sending Duchess in a black streak across the floor. Jaskier holds back a snicker. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine.”

“Uh huh. Not spoiled by a certain kitten who won’t let you pet her?”

Geralt slowly slides out from under the bed before sitting up and crossing his arms. Jaskier tries to contain his smirk at Geralt’s pout.

“No.”

“Right. How was work?”

Geralt brightens at the prospect of talking about the cafe. “I made a new blend today."

"Oh?"

"Even Lambert admitted it was good."

"You know it was amazing then," Jaskier says in a sing song voice. "Did you bring me any?"

Geralt quirks a smile at him. "You want old coffee?"

Jaskier shrugs.

Geralt sighs. "It's in the fridge, you animal."

"Thank you, love." Jaskier grins and bounces off to retrieve it. He finds it in the door of their refrigerator, with a heart on it. Jaskier’s sure Eskel teased Geralt about it relentlessly.

He dumps it into a pot on the stovetop to heat it up, because Geralt will have a coronary if he just nukes it. When it's just the right side of warm, he dumps it back into the cup.

He makes sure to drink it with the heart facing out and pretends he doesn't notice Geralt's tiny smile.

"How did the donut making go today?"

"Good. Sure as fuck beats making cut outs."

Jaskier tosses him a hopeful glance.

"They're in the microwave."

Jaskier dashes back out to the kitchen, Duchess darting out from under the bed to trail him. Geralt frowns at them both.

By the end of week two, it's as if Duchess has always been with them. Geralt went through the first week terrified he was somehow going to fuck her up, but it has mostly worn off. He's resigned to the fact that she's never going to leave him alone now, as evidenced by the insistent kneading on Geralt’s chest that wakes him up. He groans and turns over, dislodging Duchess from his torso. She gives him an indignant mrp, and he pulls a pillow over his head. “Jaskier, go feed your damn cat.”

Duchess moves on from Geralt to walk over Jaskier’s face, and Jaskier makes a disgruntled noise before he clambors out of bed.

Geralt tries to go back to sleep to no avail. He grumbles to himself. He wakes up early enough as it is to get food in the ovens and the coffee brewing before his shop opens; he certainly doesn’t need to be getting up any earlier than that.

There’s the clinking of cat food pouring into a bowl and then Jaskier is stumbling back into bed. He tugs Geralt close, leaning in to give him a kiss, but Geralt puts a hand on his chest. “You just had cat feet all over your face. I know exactly where those paws have been.”

As if on cue, Duchess scratches around in her litter box, and Jaskier sighs.

Jaskier burrows back into the blankets, putting his cold feet on Geralt. Geralt’s alarm goes off a few minutes later, and Geralt heaves himself about of bed, much to Jaskier’s mumbled protest. Geralt is sure he’s just upset because his feet are still cold. Geralt tugs the pillow out from under Jaskier on his way out, giving him a soft whack. “Love you,” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier takes the pillow and hugs it to his chest, giving Geralt a sour look. “I love you, too, you menace.”

Geralt gives Jaskier a private grin and goes about his morning routine, practically feeling Jaskier’s eyes burning into his back.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on, Geralt. You don't even work today."

And that... is compelling. Geralt had completely forgotten Eskel was going to run things today, giving him the day off for once for the last day of Hannakuh. Jaskier tugs him back onto the bed and pulls him into a sound kiss.

They're interrupted by an indignant yowling, and Geralt pulls away to stare at Duchess with dismay. "Is she going to do this every time?"

Jaskier shudders. "God, I hope not. This is why we don't have kids, Geralt! I'm not prepared to give up my sex life!"

Geralt blinks; it's way too early for Jaskier to be discussing having children with him.

"Hmm. Is that the only reason?"

Jaskier pauses, his hands tangling in the tassels on their blanket. "I don't know, is it?"

Geralt shrugs. "I'm—amiable."

"Amiable? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Do you want kids?"

Geralt feels like he's stripping himself bare, but it's not as uncomfortable as he would have imagined when Jaskier is the one he's doing it for.

"I can...imagine it."

"Yeah?" Jaskier asks softly, tilting his head up to look at Geralt.

"Yeah."

Duchess chooses that moment to jump up on the bed between them, making Jaskier laugh and stroke his hand through her fur, a fond look on his face that makes Geralt melt just a little.

Duchess moves on from Jaskier to climb into Geralt's lap, and after she gives him a little headbutt and hops off of his lap as well, Jaskier pulls him up.

"Come on, let's play dreidel. I'm going to beat you this time."

Geralt rolls his eyes. "Not a chance."

Geralt lets Jaskier pull him into their living room, and Geralt drapes a blanket around his shoulders as Jaskier putters around making them coffee. Geralt is sure it will be way too weak; but he'll drink it anyway. He's content to just have someone besides him make it for once.

Jaskier comes back with two mugs and hands one to Geralt.

"Thank you," Geralt says, taking a sip.

"Okay?" Jaskier asks, like he does every time.

"Perfect," Geralt replies, like he does every time.

Jaskier beams and retrieves the top from their side table. "I'm serious, I'm going to win."

Geralt hums, unimpressed. He gets up to go find their chocolate coins they use for the betting pool. Geralt finds them in the cupboard, rolling his eyes fondly as he notices there are definitely less of them remaining than there were the last time they played.

Geralt returns, and they start playing, the game going on for a while before Jaskier gets frustrated.

The dreidel finally stops spinning, falling on its side with a gentle clunk, and Geralt slowly looks up from it to grin at Jaskier.

Jaskier crosses his arms across his chest and pouts. “This is entirely unfair that you’re so good at this. This is a game of luck!”

Geralt hums as he finishes pulling in all of the gelt on the table closer to him. “It’s not. Heart of the dreidel.”

“I never should have made you watch Yugi-Oh with me,” Jaskier huffs. “Well, in that case, it’s even worse. You’re going to share with me, right?” He scoots his chair closer to Geralt until he’s practically in his lap.

Geralt picks up one of the chocolates and tilts it in his fingers, admiring the way the wrapper catches the light. “Hmm. I’m not sure about that.”

He peels the gold foil off, popping the gelt into his mouth. Jaskier makes an injured sound, and Geralt tugs him completely into his lap. “I might be persuaded,” he murmurs and presses his lips to Jaskier’s.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier holiday exchange #geralt is a reluctant cat person i just know it #fanfiction #and look don't @ me for posting a hannakuh fic on christmas #contemplative writing #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel

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florenceisfalling · 4 years ago

Text

raise it up

hey this is a gift for @jaeyleo and it is very late!! my dearest apologies!! i may make this a series someday! every title would be from ‘rabbit heart’ lmao

WARNINGS MIGHT SPOIL IT, but warnings for: hypnosis, corrupted! and puppet!egos, semi-kidnapping, and some... well, i guess you’d call it non-consensual magical exchanges??

have fun ;)

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The theatre is a bit chilly in spite of the presence of hundreds of warm bodies around you, some dressed in suits and ties, others dressed in colorful sweaters and patterned button-ups. It’s as if wearing anything too casual or uninteresting would be considered seriously underdressing compared to the man plastered on nearly every poster around the building.

“Come See Marvin the Magnificent for his famous WORLD TOUR!” they all said, in bold, colorful letters. Beneath the script was the magician himself, arms splayed out dramatically with a charming smile, cape flowing behind him. You remember the days when he was basically unheard of, only doing local shows and YouTube videos, and you remember his climb to fame… well, climb wasn’t the right word. More like skyrocket.

Before, he would have pranced across the stage with a bouncing sort of energy, shouting sing-song remarks into the microphone and over-flourishing with his ring-covered hands. But now, as he walks out on the stage, his flashy outfit and fancy set is outshined by his confident gaze. His steps are slow and steady, his voice even and low, a smile creeping into every word. He radiates self-assurance. Marvin is no longer trying to catch and hold your attention with all his desperate might - he already knows your eyes are on him, he already knows you won't be able to look away. It seems effortless for him.

The crowd cheers and roars, and he giggles a bit before he presses a hand gently to his heart- “Thank you, thank you, everyone.” As soon as he opens his arms and sweeps them wide, the entire theatre hushes like children beneath the low drama of a library’s storyteller.

Eyes scanning over the mass of people, he nods.

It almost looks like his gaze stops directly on your face.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The show is absolutely brilliant. Stranded particles of dust collect in the air and transform into a vivid illusion of a whale swimming overhead, then scatter into twinkling shooting stars, tumbling down and vanishing right before they land among the audience. With a Cheshire grin on his face, the magician disappears and reappears from stage to seat to the rafters that hold up the lights. Necklaces turn into snakes and rings flutter away like butterflies, only to return back to metal and stone. It is magic and mystery and miracles at their finest - you know for a fact that any critic in the audience has yet been baffled and converted.

But when it seems like there is nothing left for Marvin to display, he calls out a phrase that is equal parts inviting and unnerving.

“For this next trick, I need a volunteer!”

Immediately, without a hint of hesitation, your hand flies up, your arm waving like a white flag of surrender. You’ve never been the type to like spotlights flashing over you on a stage, you would much rather be behind the scenes, but you can’t seem to put your hand down… nor can anyone else in the room. Stretching out from your seat to the rest is a sea of skin, of nails, of rings, of gloves, all stretching and towards the stage as if you were all subjects of a Baroque painting.

Marvin descends into the audience, slowly stepping down the stage and meandering between the rows of seats. Closing his eyes, he seems almost… relaxed by the hundreds of fingers trying so desperately to touch his face or his mask or his cape. Eventually, though, the clicks of his high-heeled boots stop, and you realize he is in front of your aisle.

A sense of deep dread washes over you when he points his finger right towards your chest, and you stand to follow him, despite the nervousness and stage fright that you get from even imagining going up there. But the chance is irresistible, isn’t it? Softly, he hooks his arm around yours, and soon the crowd’s voice mixes with disappointment and excitement.

The magician doesn’t say a word to you while you march across the carpet, but it’s not like it would matter. The theatre is far too loud, but the stage… the stage feels strangely, comfortingly quiet.

Arm shifting, Marvin’s hand slides down to yours, gently squeezing your fingers. All the fear fades from you when his other hand reaches up to brush hair out of your face. As he looks you in the eye, calm washes over you in a melty way, like syrup dripping down your brain. You swear his eyes were bluer, once, in the old photos on social media- but now someone has poured gold flecks inside, his irises nearly all green. While his pupils are stretched similarly to a cat’s, they don’t look like costume contacts; the gold is too shimmery, too deep. A shiver trickles down your spine and he nods, squeezing your hand another time. Swirling colors start to spill into your vision, and the lights become fuzzy and smeared; the change is enough to make you dizzy or knock you over, but Marvin holds you steady. It’s only been a few seconds, but you swear fifteen minutes have passed in this blissful trip. The last words he says to you are quiet, personal, the microphone turned off - a little secret you both share beneath the murmurs of the audience - “Stay very still.”

And you do.

He turns back to the crowd, and now the voice he speaks with sounds like it’s underwater. Everything is fuzzy, sleepy, but you hear him say something about a split, about a soul. The hundreds of people sitting in rows shout and call, chanting something that sounds faintly like your name - you don’t remember telling anyone your name - and gasping in surprise. You’re unsure of what they find so remarkable until you slowly look down, realizing that you’re a few feet above the ground, now, and your body… your body is laying on the floor, the form you are currently is far more transparent, far more flowing. You look like a ghost, and Marvin draws a little light out of you, pressing it to his eyes. More gold collects in them.

He then snaps his fingers.

And you’ve returned to the floor, head spinning. You are back in your body, and his hand takes yours to lift you to your feet. He turns you to the crowd and you numbly wave, stumbling just a little with a dazed smile plastered to your face.

Soon, someone else approaches you on the stage, half-tripping on his way. Through the thick fog in your head and eyes, you see his neat black suit and messy, fading green curls tumbling down one side of his face. Marvin is talking again, “thank you”s mimed out of his mouth while the crowd roars and claps, amazed amidst your confusion. They don’t even seem to notice the new man - a staff member, maybe? - on stage, the one in the suit who now gently grabs your shoulder, taking care as he walks you away from the magician. They don’t notice a thing at all...

“Right this way, right this way,” the new man mumbles, nervousness in his tone. As you look closer, still so dizzy you can barely keep your head up, you think you see a bruise starting to fade from one of his tired eyes. Your gaze is so fixed on it that you don’t stop to question why he’s chosen to exit stage left with you.

A moment later, you’re walking behind the curtains, entering a small corridor with dim lights and doors marked Staff Only. You try to absentmindedly count the doors while you stumble past, but the numbers twist and tumble in your head, a rush that just leaves you even more lost than before.

Eventually, the both of you reach a door that was once marked to be a dressing room, though the sign for that has been long since torn off. There’s a heavy padlock hanging from the door to the outer wall on a chain, much more drastic than the small lock built into the doorknob. The man who you lean on lifts a shaking hand to his breast pocket, pulling out a shining key, and unlocks the door with a distinct metallic click.

Inside, it does not look like a dressing room - at least, not entirely. While one half of it does feature hanging clothing and a vanity, as well as some jumbled props, the other side is instead filled with thrifted couches and chairs, all gathered awkwardly around a bed that looks strangely… medical?

“Uh, sit, sit, please, right there, thank you…”

The stranger ushers you forward to the couch, and you’re too hazy to even think of hesitating. Held up comfortably by the cushions, you feel like you’re going to fall right asleep, your consciousness melting right into the fabric below. But the man shifts, and you keep your eyes open to watch.

Keeping his head down and avoiding your sleepy stare as he walks around the furniture and behind you, he opens a cabinet that you did not initially notice and pulls out a crystal glass. Next to the cabinet is a small door, and the man slips behind it, reappearing with the glass now full of cool water.

Slowly, the careful clicks of his dress shoes against the floor draw closer, and you squint, trying to get a better look at him from here.

The bruise on his face isn’t the only thing marring his skin, you notice; more bruises peek from behind the sleeves of his suit, and a deep, gnarled scar cuts across his throat. On both sides of the scar lay deep red lines, like someone had fastened a collar far too tightly around his neck. A frown forming on his face is enough to interrupt your thoughts; he adjusts his shirt and tie to better cover what you’ve seen, before sitting beside you.

“Here,” he mutters, and pries your nearly-numb fingers open to place the cold glass in your grip. “Drink some, i-it’s supposed to help…”

You do as he says, and the worry in his face seems to lighten.

“Thank… thank you. You did, um, real well, in the show. I’m sorry about what he did, though…” Even through the foggy mess that your mind currently is, a hint of fear peeks through at the man’s words. “I s-suppose I should introduce myself, I’m… Anti. And you are…?”

No matter the effort you expend, you can’t get coherent words off the tip of your tongue, not even enough to say your name. Anti sighs, understanding the feeling.

“That’s alright. It’ll come back in a while, though you’ll never get everything back, y’know? Too late for that.”

With every word he says, more concern starts to build in your mind- what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

You’re dragged out from those thoughts when you realize that you still hear Marvin’s voice echoing from the stage, though you cannot identify any distinct words. Just a tone that wants to lull you to sleep, wants to numb the crowd into oblivion. You feel so tired, oh, why must your eyelids hang so heavy?

But Anti is still talking, too, quietly and nervous when he sees the look of fear that has grown on your face. “It- it’s alright, really! It shouldn’t… shouldn’t be any serious damage, even if it sounds scary- he only took a small part of your soul. Marv, he’s gotta feed that magic somehow, r-right?”

On shaky legs, you try to stand. You have to get out of here, don’t you? If only Anti didn’t gently push you back down by your shoulders, hushing you with a slightly panicked face, if only you didn’t feel like a gust of wind would be enough to knock you over.

“No, no, he’ll be here after the show, okay? And… and then you should be able to go home, h-he just needs to check up on you, that’s all, promise… please get some rest, pretty please, for me?” Anti stares at you while he talks, a sickly sweet voice creeping into his words, and it’s almost like his eyes are trying to reach into your mind. Despite this, his gaze takes no effect on you.

There’s barely any magic left inside him, after all.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You do fall asleep, eventually. While Anti’s weak attempts at hypnosis did nothing, Marvin’s work is still heavy in your mind, and you’re plunged into a warm, sickeningly sweet darkness.

The dream you find yourself in is not much comfort, but you pray it lasts a while. You don’t know what will happen to you when you wake up.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

welcome, dear reader, to my interpretation of the corrupted!marvin au ~

that’s all, folks! go follow @jaeyleo / @cest-mellow if you have not already, she is an absolute sweetheart who inspires me so so much

sidenote: any religious imagery u spot in this is very intentional

#jse egos #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #reader insert #second person pov #my writing #my fics #my ego posts #i havent written in SO long and i am sorry but i hope u like this #it was kinda confusing so like. interpret and theorize as u wish #a majority of the vagueness was on purpose #psst: spoilers in the next tags #corrupted!marvin #puppet!anti

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cheeriecherry · 4 years ago

Text

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [2/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 2/8

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, one (1) mention of vomiting (nothing graphic), very brief mention of violence (also nothing graphic), your friends being concerned about you, hugs

You wake up the next morning with a very sore, very stiff neck. You appreciate your friends putting you up for a while, but between the two of them they had terrible taste in furniture. In fact, you’re pretty certain their couch is the same couch you three shared when you first got your own place together…

You sit up on the lumpy cushions, wincing when your spine crackles. When you move to stand you find that you can’t, held in place by previously unnoticed twin weights on your blanketed legs. Your heart rate speeds up for a moment, before you realize it’s just a pair of cats sleeping on you.

You carefully finagle your way out from under them, taking extra care not to rouse or wake them. One of them chirps and stretches, and you pause, but she quickly falls back to sleep, tucked up against her companion.

Once you’re free, you wander towards the kitchen to find something to eat. Hizashi had offered to order takeout last night, but you were nearly dead on your feet by the time you walked into the house. You’d gone straight to bed, and now you had to deal with the stomach cramps.

You search around in the pantry and fridge for a while, finding few things more than rice, bread, condiments, and a couple canned goods. It made sense, considering how busy your friends were, but it was also a little ridiculous.

“You’d think two grown men could handle some grocery shopping,” you mumble, and settle on some rice, eggs, and toast. Not your ideal breakfast, but it was better than nothing.

You prepare the rice and set a pan on the stove in a haze, still muddled with sleep. Once both are sufficiently rinsed and warming, you set the rice off to cook and plop down at the kitchen table, where you notice a folded paper sitting. With your name on it.

Curious, you flip it open, instantly recognizing Hizashi’s messy writing.

‘Sho and I had to head out early, but we didn’t want to wake you. You were tossing a lot in your sleep.’

You think briefly back to the dreams you’d had, if you’d even had any. You usually had nightmares, but oftentimes you didn’t remember them, only waking with a hollow and sinking feeling in your chest.

‘You’ve got free run of the place, so use and eat what you want. Be warned, there’s not a lot in the fridge…we don’t really eat at home much. If you need the internet, Sho’s laptop is in the office across from the bedroom. See you tonight around ten!

-H’

You smile at the note, the signature consisting of a single letter, with a poor rendition of a cockatiel and a cat beside it.

You’re glad they have each other, you decide, and glad they’ve gotten together. It shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise to you, Hizashi was always more interested in Shouta than he was you. Sure, he doted on you when you were kids, but when Shouta came into the picture his attention shifted. You admit you had been a little jealous in the beginning, but now…

Maybe you’d just supposed it would always be the three of you together. You’d never bothered with dating or relationships, aside from the feelings you harboured for your best friends. You never saw the point, always content and happy to be with the two of them, even if it wasn’t romantic. They had been your rocks, your safe place, in years past.

You hadn’t comprehended that your interests could be so drastically different.

“C’mon, shake it off, stupid. They’re happy together, don’t ruin it with your feelings.” You run your hands down your face, sighing deeply. The rice would be ready soon, so you might as well get started on the eggs.

You butter a piece of bread and cut a hole out of the center, dropping it in the frying pan and cracking an egg into it.

Egg In A Hole, one of the first things you’d ever learned to cook. You were seven when you’d first tried it, and Hizashi had been there as well. You’d been at your house after school and he’d claimed to be hungry, and you -ever wanting to impress him- had set a stool in front of the stove and made him the fanciest meal you could think of.

Looking back, you’re amazed you didn’t burn or undercook anything. He had claimed it was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted, and for years it was a staple whenever you hung out… he’d hopped off that train by the time you were twelve, but every so often you’d still made him Eggs In A Hole.

Now it’s more of a comfort, more of you holding on to a time long passed. Things were different now, you were different, your friends were different-

“Shit!” you hiss, as the toast starts to burn in one corner, smoking up the kitchen. You turn the fan on and flip it over to cook the other side, sighing in relief when the egg doesn’t splatter everywhere.

You’re glad you weren’t sent undercover as a cook on your mission. Your skills in the kitchen are sub par at best, and where you’d been, nothing less than perfection was accepted. Anything burnt or under-seasoned would have been air for punishment; fingernails ripped off, palms cut up, thumbs broken. Anything that would further hinder work…and result in more punishment.

That was just the kind of person your target was. A rich american woman with a taste for torture, and a quirk that allowed her to feast on and destroy the hope in others. She had ‘hired’ you as a silent killer, despite the fact that she could easily kill people herself…or make them kill themselves.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, willing the thoughts away. You weren’t there anymore. You were here, with Hizashi, with Shouta. Safe. Safe.

You scoop the eggs and toast onto a plate, but your stomach has already turned. Memories didn’t pair well with breakfast, it seemed.

Once the rice is finished cooking, you wrap everything up and set it in the fridge for later, and continue going about your day.

—-

Ten PM rolls around before you know it, and your friends walk through the front door. You’ve stolen Shouta’s laptop from the office and moved it to the couch, where you now sit staring intensely at the screen.

The two of them watch you for a moment. If your stillness, posture, and bloodshot eyes are anything to go by, you’ve been like that for a while.

“You’re gonna hurt your back sitting like that,” Shouta says, kicking his boots off and wandering further into the house.

“In a second,” you reply, waving him off.

Hizashi sighs dramatically, crossing his arms. “She’s not even paying attention, Sho. We could be making out right now, and she wouldn’t even notice. Hey, watch this-”

“Hizashi,” you threaten, not looking away from the screen, “if you pull your pants down, I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”

“No fun.” But he removes his hands from his jeans anyways.

Shouta meanders up behind you, leaning over the back of the couch to see what you’re so intent on. “What’s got you so focused?” he asks, scanning the page you’re reading, “You were never like this in school.”

You remain stoic, missing the joke completely. “Conviction trials,” you explain, “I want to make sure every single one of those rich pricks I outed gets put behind bars. I’ve been scrounging news outlets since five.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” You sit up straighter, stretching your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I gave the commission enough information to put these people in prison for life! Why haven’t they been brought in yet!”

“You’ve only been out for a little while. These things take time.” His tone is gentle and concerned, but to your addled brain it feels more patronizing.

You fist your hair in your hands and tug. “I gave them hideouts, names, faces, addresses, bank numbers, concrete evidence against these people! A few days should be enough time to find them! They’re top priority criminals! They should be caught by now!”

A warm hand rests on your shoulder, jarring you violently out of your thoughts. You tense beneath the touch, electricity prickling down your arm, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Breathe,” he says.

You breathe.

He squeezes your shoulder slightly, comfortingly. “It’ll happen. Give the media time to catch up.”

You look away from him, finding a spot on the floor to stare at, and slump forward in defeat. “If it gets out that I was the snitch, too…”

The room is quiet for a couple beats as your words register, and the hand on your shoulder rubs soft circles into your skin. “Your partner…they were killed, weren’t they.” It’s not a question, merely an observation.

You nod.

“I can’t let them find me, Shouta. The way these people kill their targets-”

“You’re safe here, Y/N. Always. The chances of these criminals getting into the country undetected is between slim and none. Their faces will be plastered on every single no-fly list, every district wanted list.”

“They can do whatever they want, as long as they have the money.” You turn back to the laptop, continuing to scroll around various news outlets. “Even once they’re in prison, they’ll have outside connections. If they find out it was me who outed their whole operation, I’ll have a target on my back for the rest of my life.”

Shouta lets go of your shoulder, and walks around the couch to take a seat beside you, knees bumping against yours.

“There are…resources,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, “for heroes who’ve been undercover. To help them readjust to everyday life-”

“I don’t need a therapist,” you hiss, scowling. “I need…I need-”

A pair of hands scoops the laptop out of your grip, flipping it closed and setting it aside. But before you can complain, your now-warmed-up plate of food from that morning is set in your lap, and Hizashi takes a seat on your other side.

“If you don’t want a therapist, then at least take care of yourself, okay? Eat.”

Your scowl persists as you chew.

—-

You jolt awake on the couch at an unbeknownst hour of the morning, covered head to toe in a thin sheen of sweat. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing, and you barely make it to the bathroom before you’re dry heaving into the sink. Nothing comes up, save for bitter bile, but you’re exhausted once the short wave of nausea passes.

You rinse your mouth and the sink out, and splash some water on your face. With any luck, you won’t have woken anyone, but when you exit the bathroom you nearly walk face first into Shouta, who’s leaning beside the door.

“It sounded like you were getting sick.” His tone isn’t accusing, but his posture puts your guard up.

“Nothing came out, so it’s fine.”

You wander back to the living room, hoping to leave the conversation, but he only follows.

“Why were you getting sick in the first place?”

“I dunno,” you grumble tensely, “adrenaline reaction maybe? Who’s to say why people puke.”

He’s quiet for several moments, observing you, your fidgeting, your agitation. You feel like you’re under a microscope, with the way he’s looking at you.

“What happened to you out there?” he asks.

“Stuff,” you mutter.

I got people killed.

“Stuff that gives you nightmares every time you sleep?”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

I don’t deserve to come back from this.

“Your sleep-yelling woke me up. You’re lucky Hizashi wears earplugs.”

You turn away from him and grab your water bottle off the coffee table, plopping grumpily onto the couch. Shouta hesitates for a moment before finding a seat beside you again. Warmth radiates off his body, which is pressed comfortingly against your side. You can feel the tension easing out of your shoulders in his presence.

“What’s so bad about therapists, anyways?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Lots of people need them. Hizashi and I have both seen a couple over the years.”

“I don’t need someone to tell me there’s something wrong with me.”

Shouta sighs. “That’s not what they do, and you know it. What’s the real reason?”

You silently curse his ability to read you like a book, to always somehow know when you’re lying. But…you’re not sure you could tell him the truth.

“I just…don’t like the idea, okay? Leave it at that.”

He watches you silently, searching in your averted gaze for any willingness to open up, but he finds only sadness…and shame. “I should head back to bed, then. Early morning, and whatnot. Try and get some more sleep.”

He rises off the couch, and without thinking you follow suit, and quickly envelope him in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest. He’s surprised for a moment, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you tight while you tremble against him.

He pats small circles into you back, keeping you close until your breathing begins to even out. “Just…don’t let this go on for too long, okay?” It’s the closest you’ve ever heard him to begging, “I don’t know what happened to you out there, but you’re obviously suffering.”

You pull away slightly, tired and defeated, and nod. “I’ll look into it. Those resources you mentioned. Okay?”

You release each other fully, and he gives you one last pat to the head.

“Okay. Now, really, try and get some more sleep.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #yamada x reader #erasermic x reader #reader insert #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Space Between #it will get happy soon i promise #eraserhead x reader #present mic x reader

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020. 2:01 AM.

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel. It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup. It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more.

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio. Do you look as tired as you sound? What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed? When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat? He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides. Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats? Would you scream? Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog? He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you. Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn. Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes. Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway.

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM. You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent. He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance. The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.

"You know - the usual," you muse, apathetic. It's always the same.

He doesn't question it any further. He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times. One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush. You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds. He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.

"How was your day?" You're settled back at your computer, he thinks. The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.

"I had the day off, actually." He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover. He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does. It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?" There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?” He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance.

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends. Not that you know any of them. No, no. All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP. Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?” You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.

“Hung out. Did some editing. I’m kind of behind.” That was an understatement. He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”

“Yeah, probably.” Not that he minds, or that he’d change it. He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.

“Sorry not sorry,” you quip, seemingly reading his mind.

“You should be,” he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest. “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended. Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong. “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?”

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves. It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good. Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first. “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.” The briefest pause. “It was terrible. Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“I’m kidding. It was really good.” Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.

“I know!” You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise. He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless.

“Got any more for me?”

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard. Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?” You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful. He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you.

“Yeah. Why not?” It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him. He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting. A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away.

You’re quiet for another second. It feels like an eon. “Okay, yeah. I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020. 6:30 PM.

“You sound like a meathead,” you say, off-hand and disinterested.

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe.

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does. Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows. Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses.

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?” He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose. It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further. You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!” You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right? You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous. It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts.

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did. What of it?” He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.

“You are so, so weird.” There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in. It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings.

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?” If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to. With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made. It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him.

“You just can’t! Only other people can say it.” You sigh dramatically, from your chest. “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.”

“Har har har.”

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating. He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago. There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.

“I’ll have you know I used to run.” Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!” Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.” You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup. It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening. “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours. One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river. He didn’t hurt me or anything—” A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue. “—but he followed me home. I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…”

“So no more running by yourself.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.” It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks, Jay.”

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name. Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.” It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it. How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure. He wishes it weren’t. There’s no way you haven’t heard it.

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears.

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!” Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts. “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head. The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat. A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?” You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out. “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant. The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”

“No. I’m busy.”

“Busy with your girlfriend?” Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.

“Not my girlfriend!”

“But you wish she was!”

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face. He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then. You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you.

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020. 12:05 AM.

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on. Realistically, he should go to sleep. He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea. But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does.

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?” The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes. Seven!”

It’s really not that bad. The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.

“Patience is key,” he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery. You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe). The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.

“Patience sucks,” you retort, matter-of-fact.

“You know what else sucks?”

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin. “Spiders? Undercooked samgyupsal? Not having coffee? Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius. He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.

“I was actually going to say me,” he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.

“Wait, why?” You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour. “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him. Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep. “No. I’m sorry.” He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection. He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”

Inhale, exhale. Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her, he tells himself.

“Everything’s okay.” And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.

“Good.”

You’ve chosen Genji, He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.

“Good luck.” You don’t need it. He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?” Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.

“Yeah, pretty early.”

“Then go to bed! I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away. You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were. Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts, “I’m always here for you, Jay.”

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes. this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear. :)

tag list. @teawithbucky

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

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SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

#sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfic #sherlock oneshot #mycroft holmes #mycroft & sherlock #young!mycroft #teen!mycroft #young!sherlock #kid!sherlock #tw: bullying

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

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alone (egd)

it’s not very often that you and ethan get the house to yourselves... and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it

word count: 8k (holy shit haha)

warnings/tags: smutty smutty smut lets goooo, christening the house hehe, ITS A WILD RIDE

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

It was almost like watching a scene in a sappy romance movie, but instead of the typical girl in the sundress with the handsome man, it was two handsome 6 foot tall men standing outside the airport, staring at each other uncomfortably.

“Just make sure you text me when you land. You got your charger and everything?”

“Yeah E, I’ve got it. I’m gonna miss my plane man, I gotta go,” Grayson said, but he wasn’t moving, obviously unsure of what exactly to do.

“Bye Gray, have fun and be safe,” you decided to step in, giving him a goodbye hug. He squeezed you back, swaying a little bit back and forth.

“Keep him alive and fed for me, will yah?” Gray teased, ruffling your hair like he always did before letting you go.

“I think I can manage that for four days,” you teased, stepping back. There was an odd awkwardness in the air - the twins weren’t very experienced in saying goodbye.

You stood to the side, watching them hug. It was a genuine one, with just a hint of unease in it - the boys hadn’t spent this much time away from each other since they did their one week without each other video.

When they were done, the two of you waved at Grayson until he was out of sight inside the terminal. And then you climbed back into the tesla, you in the passenger seat like usual.

And it was time for the real fun to begin.

Riding in the car with Ethan was one of your favorite little parts of your relationship. It was such a simple thing, to sit next to him in the passenger seat with the music playing. And his hand was always on you somehow - fingers intertwined, pressing kisses to the back of your hand. But it wasn’t often that you didn’t have Grayson in the back seat. This time was different.

As soon as he was merged back onto the highway, his hand was on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the bare skin left by your shorts. It was innocent enough to start, but his fingers trailed higher and higher with each mile he drove, and when you looked over he was chewing on his lip - one of his tells.

“Mind on the road,” you teased, but you opened your legs just barely anyways.

“Baby I drive a tesla. My mind can be anywhere,” he reminded you, a bit of his ego popping through.

“We’re five minutes from home,” you breathed as his hand moved further up, brushing over the zipper of your shorts. There was a nervous energy filling the car, and it reminded you of how you felt before you slept together for the first time. You felt giddy at the thought of having Ethan all to yourself, and the house empty except for the two of you, for four whole days.

“Wanna make sure you’re ready,” he said, voice low and gruff. It sent chills across every inch of your skin.

“Oh trust me, I am,” you sighed, squirming just barely as he rubbed over your skin. He knew exactly how to press your buttons and get you worked up in a matter of minutes.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing your thigh. He edged the speedometer up, wheels flying over payment in a desperate bid to get home even a few minutes earlier.

“Hey, we can’t fuck if you crash before we get home,” you reminded him, messing with your nails. When you looked over at him, his pupils were blown wide, incredulous. The easiest way to get him worked up was with your words, and you used it sparingly, knowing if you always said all the dirty things in your mind that it wouldn’t hold the same effect when you decided to use it. It was the only way you could even the playing field - Ethan could have you in a puddle with one touch.

He slowed down, but only a fraction, and you were itching to get home just as much as he was, maybe more. The gates at the end of the driveway felt like they took an eternity to open when Ethan punched in the code, and you had already undone your seatbelt before he even had smooth cat in park.

You both jumped out of the car, giddy like unsupervised teenagers. He took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he started towards the house. To your surprise, he didn’t open the door immediately. Instead, he turned to you, catching your hips with his hands.

“I have a proposition.”

“Oh do you now.”

“New house. All to ourselves for four days.”

“Mhmmm.” Not sure why we’re not acting on that right about now, you wanted to say, but you held your tongue.

“Christening.” The word hung in the night air for a moment, slowly disappearing into the song the crickets were making. Images flashed through your mind of all the furniture, the floor plan, the layout. Fuck.

“You bought a very large house, with a lot of rooms,” you started. His face fell just a fraction, and his lips parted as he started his rebuttal. You stopped him with a finger.

“We better get started.”

night one, 11pm, living room two

You’d never realized just how soft the purple sectional was; probably because this was the first time you were naked on it. Ethan had made quick work of everything you had on as he lead you in the door, past the small living room, through the kitchen and dining room, and into the small sunken living room two, as they called it.

“Odd first choice,” you mused, not really caring where you were. All you were worried about was the fact that Ethan was still fully clothed, which was wildly unfair in your opinion.

“Well, we’ve already done our room and bathroom, so no need for repeats. Not gonna do Grayson’s room or bathroom, cause that’s just weird. Figured we could work our way across the house. Living room two, dining room, kitchen, living room one. Come back and get the office, guest bathroom, laundry room.” He listed off the rooms like he was reading from the floor plan as he shed his shirt and started to work on his belt.

“You’ve really got this planned out huh. Been daydreaming about having sex with me all over the house?” The smirk on your face was playful, and he just laughed, shaking his head as he shoved his Louis V pants down his legs along with his boxer briefs and stepped out of them.

“I’m always thinking about having sex with you. Duh.” He crawled over top of you, coaxing you to lay down flat on the couch. One of your favorite things about sex with Ethan was that it was always versatile, and not just in positions. You’d had every mood of sex in the book - playful, funny, dirty, kinky, angry. You were so comfortable around each other it wasn’t even funny.

So you weren’t surprised in the slightest that he nudged your hip with his knee and muttered ‘scootch’ so he could get himself comfortable above you. And you also weren’t surprised when you both realized that there was no way in hell that this position was going to work in any way, shape or form on that narrow ass couch.

“Floor?” He asked.

“Floor,” you confirmed, following him as he rolled off you and onto his back on the rug. Now you were hovering over him, straddled over his abs. His hands found the back of your thighs, pushing lightly.

“Come up here,” he grinned, and you knew exactly what he was asking for. You maneuvered your way up until you were hovering above his face.

“Let the christening... begin,” he said in his most dramatic voice, smile wide on his face as his hands came up onto your thighs to pull you down closer to him.

“That’s the cheesiest shit you’ve eve- oh.”

“Mmmm, what was that?” He asked, pulled away from where he’d just been.

“Nothing! Nothing,” you squeaked, suddenly desperate for him to put his mouth back on you. He obliged, starting to work you over slowly. You shifted your weight onto your knees so you could get closer to him, hands going to his hair, which was finally getting just long enough for you to get a grip on.

It didn’t take long for him to set a rhythm with his tongue that has your hips grinding, thighs shaking just barely at the tension of you holding yourself at just the right height. He’s always been so damn good with his mouth, even since the first time you slept together.

But it wasn’t until you bit down on your fist as you came that you hear him groan, and he’s tapping on your thigh, signaling you to dismount. You climbed off, catching your breath and relaxing your muscles, coming down.

“What’d you bite your fist for?” He asked, sitting up and moving towards you like he had on the couch, coaxing you down onto your back again, his fingers ghosting over you.

“Didn’t do it on purpose.” You were still a bit breathless as he ducked down to kiss you.

“Well for once we don’t have to be quiet. Wanna hear you babe, while we can,” he said, more of a request than a demand. You nodded in response as he lifted up slightly, lining himself up. You let your legs fall open to the sides, giving him more room as he dipped down, grazing over your folds.

You let out the breath you’d been holding as he pushed in, moving slow and easy. He held himself up on his hands, which were splayed on the floor above your shoulders to hold you in place. You bit down on your lip, a force of habit.

He grunted above you, moving down to his forearms, rolling his hips as he shifted his weight to one side so he could bring a thumb up, guiding your lip out from under your teeth.

“What’d I just say,” he groaned, a hint of dominance creeping into his tone. You just nodded, overwhelmed as he continued to stretch you out.

“Fuck E,” you moaned, hands coming up onto the skin of his back, nails dragging down. A tiny part of your brain realized it felt weird to be so loud, but the pleasure took over that as you felt everything start to tighten, an overwhelming feeling that you’d become familiar with.

“God, I can feel that,” Ethan breathed, speeding up the roll of his hips, somehow getting even deeper than he already was. “Shit baby, you feel so good.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you whined, pulling him as close as you could, lifting your hips up just barely to meet him. The new angle was electric, just the tiny shift making all the difference, and suddenly your thighs were shaking and you could feel him release, filling you up before he collapsed on top of you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, rolling off you smoothly. You were only on your back for a second before his arm wrapped around your shoulder, rolling you over onto him.

“We’re gonna have to pace ourselves if we’re gonna make it through every room in the house,” you laughed, trying to catch your breath. He ran his fingers over your back, feather light over your spine.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna wear me out,” he laughed with you, reaching his other hand up to run through his hair.

“Your fault, you bought a big ass house,” you grinned, squishing your cheek against him, smiling when you heard the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

Eventually, he somehow mustered the energy to get the two of you to your feet and back towards your room, the unspoken agreement that you were done for the night.

“We should shower,” you mumbled.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Ethan answered, crawling onto the sheets.

“E! We’re gross!”

“Totally disgusting,” he agreed, curling up further into the bed. You thought for a moment about trying to drag him to the shower, but it was no use. If he didn’t wanna move, you couldn’t make him - you’d learned that lesson many times.

Instead, you gave in and crawled over to him, peppering kisses on his bare back. “You’re washing the sheets tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he sighed, twisting to wrap you up in his arms before you both fell asleep.

morning one, 9:42am, kitchen

As you did every morning, you headed into the kitchen alone. The wood was cold against your bare feet, sending goosebumps up your legs. You’d thrown on one of E’s shirts out of habit, but skipped the shorts when you remembered that the house was empty aside from a quietly snoring Ethan.

You made yourself a cup of coffee and turned on the speakers, just loud enough that they might wake Ethan up. The playlist that was just a massive dump of every song the three of you liked started to roll through, and you danced along to it, deciding to make a more complicated breakfast than normal. If there was one thing you could cook, it was breakfast.

The boys had started to branch out and find more vegan substitutes, so you were happy to find all the ingredients you needed to make vegan breakfast bagels - an egg substitute, vegan cheese, even veggie sausage that would work great. While everything cooked away, you cut up some fruit and sipped at your coffee, getting more and more into the music as it played, especially when your favorite Cudi song came on - the boys had gotten you hooked as soon as you moved in, said it was a ‘house rule’ that you stan Cudi.

Lost in your own little world as you scrambled the ‘eggs’, the poke to your hip made you squeal and almost drop the spatula. You turned and saw E, a goofy close lipped smile on his face.

“What’d you poke me for?” You grinned, getting up on your tiptoes to kiss him good morning. He answered by poking your cheek again, then squeezing it gently between his thumb and his index finger.

“Just makin’ sure you’re real, and that I’m not dreamin’,” he sighed, brushing some hair back from your face, proud of the blush he brought to your cheeks.

“You’re such a simp.” You turned back to the ‘eggs’, cutting off the burner, happy they were done so you could give him your full attention for a few minutes.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you countered. “Okay maybe not a simp, but definitely a sap. Over here poking me to make sure I’m not a dream,” you teased, but you loved every second of it.

“But you are a dream,” he said in his most dramatic voice, hands going to your waist to guide you away from the stove. With one swift move he spun you around and lifted you up so you were suddenly sitting on the island, now just a hair taller than him.

“I wake up to you, cooking a damn good vegan breakfast in my kitchen, with Cudi on the speakers, in my shirt-” he reached for the hem, moving it slightly up from where it sat on your thighs, obviously expecting shorts. He groaned when he didn’t find any.

Immediately, his hand was coming around to the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair as he pulled you down towards him, lips on yours. Usually his kisses were a bit lazy in the morning, but right now he was more than awake, and you could tell.

It wasn’t another minute before he was guiding you backwards and you were laying on the counter, cold marble setting all your nerve endings on fire as his fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down in one swift motion.

He pressed kisses to your thighs, morning scruff tickling your skin as he made his way up, coaxing your legs to open for him. It was on odd sensation being out in the open like this, but you didn’t have the energy to care once his mouth was on you.

“Fucking shit,” you groaned, the sensitivity left from last night elevating things immediately.

“All good?” He murmured, looking up to you for reassurance. He knew your body almost as well as you did by now, knew you’d be sensitive.

“Yeah, yeah keep going.” You were practically begging for it already and it had only been a few seconds. He started with long, flat tongue licks that he knew would have you squirming, even if he didn’t add a finger like he did.

“Jesus E, fuck,” you whimpered, fingers grasping at the smooth counter, desperate to find something to hold onto as he worked you over. He just hummed against you, satisfied that you were being vocal and adding to the sensation all at the same time.

His tongue moved up to your clit and you gasped, sitting up slightly and grabbing at his head, fingers trying to find purchase in his short hair. It didn’t faze him in the slightest and he continued his work, knowing you were close.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you squeaked, body tensing up and then relaxing all at once, causing you to collapse back onto the counter. You barely had enough left in you to make sure that your head didn’t hit the marble.

“Well, kitchen can get checked off,” he breathed, pressing kisses to your skin as you tried to settle back down. After a few moments he helped you sit up, leaving you to relax while he picked up where you left off with breakfast as if nothing had just happened. That was one of your favorite things about Ethan - he was a giver, through and through, and he never did anything to get something in return.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to repay the favor.

“You are getting the best head of your life later, so prepare yourself.” You tried to stay serious, but your voice was still a bit breathless as you came up beside him.

“Like I said. Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ girl,” he smiled, reaching a hand around to cup your ass and pull you up against his side as he continued to cook.

evening one, 6:33pm, the laundry room

You watched him put the blue liquid into the washer, filling up the little cap and putting it into the little container on the right side. You weren’t sure why, but watching Ethan do domestic shit was one of the hottest things to you.

“Did you just put fabric softener in with the sheets?”

“Of course I did,” he responded with a smirk.

“Absolute. Dream. My fuckin’ guy.” You quoted him from earlier with a smug grin, moving from where you were watching in the doorway to right beside him. The washer started to hum, filling up with water as you spun him around so his back was against it.

“Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at you in surprise - you weren’t usually the one to initiate things, not because you didn’t want to, but because Ethan usually beat you to the punch.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you pulled on the waistband of his shorts and briefs, reaching down to find his cock, which was already rising to your attention.

“Laundry huh? That’s what does it for you?” Ethan said, trying to seem unaffected, but his breath was already catching in his throat. He always got very overwhelmed when you took care of him like this - he was so used to being the giver, sometimes he wasn’t exactly sure what to do as the receiver.

“Shhh, just relax. I told you to prepare for this, remember?” You teased, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him while you pushed his shorts and briefs down. They pooled around his feet and you followed them, sinking to your knees.

“Fucking shit.” He breathed it out, barely audible over the machinery behind him that he started to brace on as you took him in your mouth.

You just hummed as you worked him over, knowing exactly where to get him weak in the knees. He liked slow, long strokes at first, but you surprised him by coming up to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he whined, thigh twitching and hand coming down to your hair. His fingers tangled in it and you didn’t ease up at all, knowing you were about to get him right where you wanted him.

You backed off for just a second, just to see his reaction as you looked up at him. His eyes had been closed for a bit, knuckles white as he gripped onto the washer. But with the loss of contact they flew open, just as you wanted them to.

With his eyes on you, you grabbed onto his hips, opening wide and taking him as far down your throat as you could. You fought the urge to gag, grinning a bit when his hips stuttered and his breath hitched. He even bent over slightly, body unsure of how to handle feeling so good.

He wasn’t even forming words anymore when you started to suck again, paying special attention to the vein that ran along the side as he practically came undone.

When your hand came back up to his balls, he was done for. He came quickly, and you let it slide down your throat, leaving him in your mouth until he guided you off.

You stood up proudly, wiping the corner of your mouth with your shirt while you waited for him to catch his breath.

“You are incredible,” were the words he chose, boosting your ego and making you blush all at the same time.

But you didn’t get a chance to respond, because suddenly he was bending down, your hips colliding with his shoulder as he scooped you up, grabbing onto your legs as he stood up.

“Ethan!” You squealed, bracing your hands on his lower back to hold yourself up. “Your ass is literally in my face.”

“You love it,” he teased, reaching up to give an easy slap to yours, making you squeak as he headed to the next room.

evening one, 7:07pm, guest bathroom

He didn’t even sit you down - he just waltzed right into the shower, opening the glass door and turning on the water.

“Cold, cold cold cold!” You gasped as the water ran over your back, hitting your shirt and soaking the fabric through.

He didn’t react to the water - he only squatted down so he could put you on your feet, hands immediately going to your waist to push you up against the wall. The water was starting to warm up, but the tile was so cold that it still took your breath.

It wasn’t helping that Ethan’s touch was making you feel like your skin was on fire, flushed and warm as he bent down slightly to catch your nipple in his mouth through your shirt. You moaned at that, back arching off the tiles when he nipped at it with his teeth.

“Not supposed to shower with clothes on,” you whimpered, already overwhelmed by just his hands on you.

“Not gonna shower, don’t even have soap in here. Christening, remember?” He whispered it, barely audible over the sound of the water hitting the floor. You didn’t have to ask his plans - he showed you, one hand moving to cup your core. He groaned when he felt a different kind of wet.

“All this, just from sucking my cock huh? Don’t deserve you, truly,” he grinned, hand coming up to the waist of your panties and yanking. The fabric tore, making you gasp.

Somehow, Ethan was already impossibly hard again, ready for another round. He pinned your hips back against the wall, foot pushing your legs just a little wider so he could line himself up. He pushed up in one swift stroke, stretching you out yet again. Somehow, it was even better than the day before, and you were so lost in the bliss you barely felt him pull your shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked.

“Fuck E, feels so good,” you moaned, arms going around his neck as he started his rhythm, deliciously slow yet fast enough at the same time. Only he could fuck you like this, you were sure.

“Tell me how good baby, tell me how I make you feel,” he urged, hands moving to the tiles behind your head as he thrust into you, grunts and groans falling from his lips with every move.

“So good E, so fuckin’ good baby, you’re so deep, fuck,” you let the words tumble out, not thinking twice about them. When he leaned in to kiss you it made you clench all over and he hissed against your lips at the feeling.

“So tight for me baby girl, fuck, my fuckin’ pussy.” The mixture of his groans and the filth coming out of his mouth was enough for you to get yourself right to the edge.

He felt it, felt you lift up on your tiptoes, felt your walls tighten and start to flutter. He reached between you, fingers finding your clit just in time. He rubbed quickly, causing you to stop breathing as every muscle in your body tensed and then you were shaking, so hard your teeth chattered. If his dick wasn’t still inside you you probably would have sunk to the ground.

He pulled out of you as soon as you were done, leaving you feeling entirely empty. You watched with hazy eyes as he turned off the water.

He came back over to you, strong arms wrapping you up and lifting you with ease, even with your skin slick from the water. You let him do whatever he wanted, just relaxing into his shoulder as he carried you out of the shower with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“We’re gonna make a mess on the floor,” you mumbled, watching the water fall off his body and drip onto the wood.

“Shhh, it’s fine,” he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he started to walk towards your room. You couldn’t help but feel that he was still hard, practically throbbing below your entrance as he carried you.

“Where we goin’?” You asked quietly, sitting up.

“Our room.”

“No repeats, remember?” you mumbled. “Put me down.”

He did as you asked, but there was already concern written all over his face. He kept a hand on you as you wobbled slightly, knees still a bit weak.

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

You just took his hand.

night two, 7:30pm, living room one

“Sit down,” you instructed him, pulling him towards the couch. He plopped down on the gray fabric - you knew there would be a wet patch there when you all were done, but you didn’t care.

Before you could say anything else, he reached out, hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not up for it. Really, I mean it. The whole christening thing is just for fun.” His voice was so soft - he was obviously worried that you were overdoing it. After all, you did have a history of being too sensitive for so many rounds in a row; Ethan always took it as a compliment.

But now, you were somehow still horny, and you knew he was painfully hard, especially since it was his second go round. So, you decided to prove to him that you were perfectly fine, leaning over, hands going to his thighs as you got in his face.

“Are you trying to convince me not to sit on your dick right now?” You said it slowly, drawing out your words. “Do you not want me to ride you?”

You actually watched him swallow, and he shook his head like a school boy being scolded.

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned, climbing onto his lap.

You wasted no time, bracing yourself on his shoulder so you could lift up and sink down onto him. There was barely a stretch this time, and you were glad, because you could immediately start up the pace you wanted. You went to your knees so he’d stay deep inside as you started to roll your hips like you knew he loved.

“Shit,” he choked out, hands moving to your ass, squeezing the flesh there as you leaned forward, adding a bit of a bounce to your movements - having your tits in his face was just a bonus.

“Not gonna last, fuck baby, just like that.” The words disappeared into your skin as he buried his face in your neck while you kept moving. Wanting to see his face, you tugged on his hair until his head came back up and you could kiss him.

His hands were desperate, wandering all over your skin as he tried to keep it together, lips rough against yours. It took so much focus for you to keep your pace as your own orgasm started to build, especially when you felt Ethan rising up to meet you, trying to get impossibly deeper.

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” You didn’t care that it had only been a few minutes - you knew he was so close, you could feel it.

He groaned at your words, and you gasped as his hands came to your hips, actually lifting you slightly just so he could pound into you harder. And just that slight shift of angle was enough to build you up in just a few strokes, and suddenly you were cumming with him, seeing stars as your body tried to process the third major orgasm of the day.

“Holy shit,” was all Ethan could say once he caught his breath. You were still speechless, body totally spent as you just sat there, exhausted. “Three in one day, that’s a lot for you,” he praised, pressing kisses to your temple. “My pretty girl is all fucked out huh?”

“Mmmm,” was your only response, and even you didn’t know what it was supposed to mean.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, moving so he could stand up. He shifted inside you, making you whimper until he was able to lift you off of him. He mumbled an apology, hands coming around to your ass to hold you up. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he carried you back to your room.

Ten minutes later and the bathtub was full with hot water, waiting for you as you rinsed off in the shower first, deciding your hair desperately needed washing. Ethan watched you through the glass door as he waited in the water for you, soft smile spreading across his face when you finished up and headed to join him, limbs heavy.

He sat up to help you step into the massive white tub, immediately wrapping his arms around you as you settled back against his chest.

“You remember how you said we needed to pace ourselves?” He murmured in your ear. “Well, we only have two rooms left. We’re beasts.”

“What’s gonna happen when we have our own house? We could do this every weekend,” You teased, twisting around so you could rest your cheek on his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to his neck and collarbone.

“Do you want our own place?”

You thought on it for a moment, as much as your blissed out haze would let you. “Not for a while. I like living with Gray.”

“Wait. If we didn’t live with Gray, would you just walk around with no pants on all the time?” The seriousness of his tone made you giggle.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

“That’s it, we’re moving, I’m getting on Zillow right now-” he sat up slightly as if he was going to get out of the tub, making you laugh and cling onto him.

“Stop, you know you love living with your brother. You miss him already and it’s only been like a day.”

He sighed, chest rising below you. “You’ve kept me plenty distracted.” But you both knew that you were right.

morning three, 10am, office

Your second whole day at home alone was so... soft. There was no other way to put it. You’d woken up on your own time, thrown on some comfy clothes and went together to your favorite vegan bakery, getting lattes and the best banana bread.

E had driven you up to a lookout and you’d had breakfast together watching the waves crash on the coast. And when you got home, you spent the whole day just moseying around the house, dancing around to the music on the speakers, playing cards, cuddling on the couch and watching movies.

“Can’t wait till this is us in our house with a few little mini you’s running around,” Ethan had said, pulling you closer to him on the couch.

“Mini me’s? Why not mini you’s?”

“Oh god, I wouldn’t wish a mini me on anybody, just ask Li,” he’d teased back. And the night had devolved into the two of you talking about what you thought your lives would look like in the future - living either in Jersey or LA, but definitely with Grayson as a neighbor. Two or three kids running around, not too far apart in age. You could picture it all in your head so clearly, and it had even seeped into your dreams later that night when you fell asleep on Ethan’s chest.

So when you woke up on the third morning, you pouted a bit when you didn’t find Ethan beside you in bed. You climbed out from under the covers, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and going in search of him - you wanted to tell him about the little mini-him’s you’d dreamed about, and how cute they were. You checked each room as you went along, finally hearing his voice and peeking into the office.

He was spinning slightly in the office chair, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I think that’s fine. If we restock in July, then we should have enough time to get enough surplus built up before the holidays.” He caught sight of you then, face lighting up. He waved you in, wanting you to join him.

You could hear the voice on the other side of the line as you got closer, and recognized it as Nathan, one of the main product managers for Wakeheart. He’d made sure not to plan any meetings for the days you had the house to yourself, giving himself a ‘mini-vacation’, but you knew he couldn’t stay away from work that long. You didn’t mind - his ambition was one of your favorite things about him.

So you simply headed over to settle onto his lap, nuzzling up into his neck as you straddled one of his thighs and cuddled up.

He pulled the phone away from his ear for just a moment, turning his head to kiss you good morning.

“Do you think we should make a holiday line? Grayson and I were talking about it, or we could just run some specific packaging deals, with mini’s or something.” He kept talking, spinning about 45 degrees in the chair and then back again, using his foot to move him.

What he didn’t realize was that just that movement was making your core shift on his wide thigh, and your thin panties weren’t doing anything to help the situation.

You still had a bit of residual sensitivity, but it didn’t hurt - now it just made it that much easier to get turned on. You tried to ignore it for a minute - Ethan always took his work so seriously, and you really didn’t want to interrupt.

But soon it was too obvious - you knew that if he didn’t already feel the wetness on his skin, he was going to soon. Almost against your own will your hips started to move just slightly, desperate for any type of friction across your throbbing core.

And of course, Ethan noticed. You sat up, trying to get a new angle and his eyes were blown wide, mouth actually hanging open slightly because holy shit, you were actually riding his thigh while he was on a business call.

With a devious grin, he bounced his leg once, and you squeaked so loud that you had no doubt that Nathan heard it. Your hands immediately went up to cover your mouth, cheeks bright red in embarrassment.

“Just my floor, sorry. What’d you say?” He played it off, pressing a finger to your lips and still smirking at you as you started to grind again, one hand going to his shoulder, the other bracing against his right thigh to give you leverage.

“Yeah, we could do two separate mini bundles, with one set for enterlight and the other with the signatures, maybe spruce it up with some festive packaging.” His voice was devilishly calm, and somehow that only turned you on more. The fact that he could be so unaffected by you literally getting off just using his leg had your skin flushed and hot, a mixture of embarrassment and want.

“We’ll have to run it past Gray once he’s back. Right now it’s just me and my girl at the house, Sterling isn’t even here, so it’s just us.” His eyes were on you, but you didn’t realize how intensely he was watching you until he brought his other hand up to grab your jaw, tilting your head back until you had no option but to stare directly at him.

You bit down on your lip hard, fighting with yourself to stay quiet as you worked yourself up, moving fast, the chair starting to creak just barely with your movements. A few whimpers still slipped past your lips and you could actually see his pupils blow wide at the sound.

“Yeah, uh, actually Nathan I think Y/N needs me for... something. Can we finish this up later?” There was a slight gruff to his voice now, the first real sign that any of this was getting to him. “Alright, talk soon. Bye.”

His phone hit the desk hard as he practically dropped it, both hands moving to your hips as his mood turned on a dime.

“God you drive me insane baby. Don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but I love it,” he groaned, gripping onto your hips as you continued to move, so lost in the feeling that you barely even heard his words.

“Fuck Ethan, I’m close, I’m so fuckin close,” you breathed, digging your nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth.

“There you go baby girl, c’mon, get yourself off on my leg, c’mon, you’re almost there,” he encouraged you, starting to barely bounce his leg to give you that extra little bit of friction you needed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fu-” your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your words as your whole body tensed up, thighs closing together to squeeze around his as your toes came off the ground and every muscle in your legs started to shake. It rolled through you in waves, keeping you tensed up for almost 30 seconds before you were finally able to breathe. You gulped down the air you’d been missing, collapsing forward onto Ethan’s chest as his arms wove around you.

“Woah. That was a good one huh?” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your back as you caught your breath. “If you needed me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Was just comin’ to tell you about my dream,” you stood up, moving to close your legs and sit on his lap sideways instead, too sensitive to stay like you had been.

“Oh yeah? And what did my girl dream about, hmm?”

You launched into the story, talking about how the two of you had a daughter and son, both with dark curls like Ethan’s that bounced around while they played in the treehouse that Grayson had built for their kids to share.

“It really sent the baby fever into overdrive,” you sighed, tracing over his collarbone tattoo as you finished.

“You know,” he leaned down, getting closer to your ear. “If you want a baby, you gotta at least give me a chance to get my dick in you.”

“Stopppp,” you blushed, burying your face in his neck. He just laughed.

“Oh so now you’re gonna get bashful on me huh? Just came in here and rode my thigh into oblivion while I was on a business call, but me mentioning putting a baby in you, oh no, that crosses the line.”

You sat up and pouted at his teasing, but he just kissed it right off your lips with a laugh. “You know I love it, don’t be embarrassed.”

afternoon four, 3:32pm, dining room

“Babe, c’mon, if we’re late Gray’s gonna be pissed,” you called out, grabbing Grayson’s water bottle from the counter and filling it up - you were always thirsty after a long flight, and you figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Ethan came around the corner then, taking one look at you and immediately turning around with a groan, heading back to your room.

“E!”

“You’re wearing that? You don’t even have a shred of mercy for me, do you?” He was exasperated as soon as he came back into the kitchen.

You looked down at yourself - you just had on a sundress, it was no big deal.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’m already trying to get over the fact that you’re gonna start wearing pants again all the time and you’re out here looking all... all tempty,” he pouted, and you couldn’t hold back your laugh.

“Tempty? That’s a new one. And hey, technically I still don’t have on pants,” you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

“Is that supposed to be helpful right now?” He asked, making you realize that pointing out the fact that your were in a dress probably wasn’t helping the already growing bulge in his pants.

With devious eyes, he glanced over at the clock. You had a few minutes to spare before you absolutely had to leave to avoid being late, and he knew it too.

“Ethan... no. No,” you cautioned as he started to walk towards you, but you were laughing at the fact he looked like a cat on the prowl.

“C’mon, we never finished our christening! All we have left is the dining room! You know I hate giving up.” He was pouting again, even sticking his bottom lip out as he kept walking and you backed up until you bumped into the wooden table.

“We’re gonna be late,” was your last possible defense, and even that was half assed. You were already wet god dammit, all he had to do was look at you.

“Please baby? We’ll be quick, I promise.”

You answer by turning around, bending over and reaching back to flick your dress up over your ass. His knees almost give out at the sight.

“Absolute.” He leaned down and presses a kiss to your left asscheek. “Dream.” He kissed the other, making you laugh.

“Thought we were gonna be quick,” you teased, secretly loving all the attention. As excited as you were to see Grayson, you sure as hell were gonna miss this.

“So greedy,” he chuckled, moving up to catch your thong with his fingers and pull it down to your knees. You heard the rustle of him getting his shorts down, and a gentle tap at your slit with his tip was your only warning before he pushed himself in.

“Fuckin’ shit baby,” you croaked, hands balling into fists at the sensation. You weren’t sure how it felt so good to be stretched out so nicely - surely you’d get used to it eventually, but you secretly hoped you never did.

“Hmm, feels nice huh? You feel so good every damn time,” he praised, hands squeezing at your ass as he pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in. “Always so soft for me.” He was lazily rolling his hips, giving you just enough to get you worked up but not enough to get you there.

“Fast Ethan. We’re going for fast,” you reminded him, a bit of sass creeping into your tone. You didn’t want to deal with a cranky post-travel Grayson if you were late.

He stilled his movement entirely, leaning forward to nip at your ear.

“You asked for it.”

And then he was moving, pulling your hips so he could slam into you fully, only letting go to reach around and rub at your clit, making your whole body tense up at the sudden change in pace.

“Fuck yes Ethan, fuck just like that, yes, yes yes yes,” you whimpered, a hand even coming to smack at the wood on the table as you tried to process all the sensation happening so quickly.

“Already tightening up, look at you.” His breathing was already labored as he continued pounding into you, grunting with the force of it. Neither of you were going to last long, it felt too good. “C’mon baby, wanna feel it. Cum for me, I know you’re close.”

You brought one hand down over his, guiding him to just the right spot over your clit, the callouses on his finger giving you just the right friction that had you tumbling over the edge.

You collapsed onto the table with the force of the orgasm, smiling when you felt Ethan chasing his own high and spilling into you only a few moment later, only your name falling from his lips.

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and then you were waddling off to the bathroom to clean yourself up quickly before pulling your panties back up. Ethan watched you with a smug smirk as you tried to walk normally, his ego bursting.

“Shut it,” you threatened, pointing a finger at him. “This is your fault.”

“I said nothing.” But his smirk was enough. “Better get that figured out before we get Grayson, or he’ll never let us live it down,” he grinned, offering you his arm as you rearranged your dress and let him lead you out to the car.

40 minutes later and you were climbing out of the car, legs not giving too much away as you watched Ethan run around the car and engulf his twin in the biggest hug, both of them more than ecstatic to see each other.

“Missed you bro,” Grayson smiled, looking over at you. “Missed you too munch,” he said, throwing out the nickname that only he was allowed to call you. Once Ethan let him go he moved over to you, giving you the biggest bear hug and spinning you around. Ethan reacted before you did, reaching a hand out to keep your dress down in the wind.

“Woah, easy, that’s only for my eyes,” Ethan huffed, pulling you to his side once you were back on your feet.

“Righttt, I forgot. But hey, I’m home now, so you’re gonna have to start wearing pants around the house again. Sorry to ruin the no-pants party,” Grayson smirked, watching the blush spread across your cheeks as you whirled on Ethan.

“You told him?” You squeaked, embarrassment running through you from head to toe.

“Thanks bro, real fuckin’ nice,” Ethan said over your head before looking at you. “That’s the only thing I told him, I swear.”

“You’re so dead,” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he knew he was in for it later.

“Ahh, so nice to be home,” Grayson grinned, wrapping you both up in a hug as he laughed.

-----

SORRY this took so long guys. also if u love me u should message me which room was your favorite just for fun haha thank you for reading, ily guys!

#GOD this was a lot of work holy shit #took me SO long thanks for being patient!!#lynds writes #ethan dolan #ethan imagine #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine

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btsmosphere · 4 years ago

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This is Rigged | KSJ

~summary: just a night in with your friends, courtesy of your boyfriend. Although he may have a slightly different grasp of the rules to you... lion shifter!Jin x reader ~word count: 1.9k ~shifter au, domestic fluff Rating: pg ~warnings: basically nothing, ...the game is rigged? allusions to Lion King spoilers, that’s not a real warning but better to be safe haha ~a/n: this is my secret santa gift for the incredible Eva @aroseforyoongi!! I really wanted to write something you would like as a huge thank you not just from me, but from everyone at the net for being such an amazing team mom! Joining @thebtswritersclub is honestly one of the best things I’ve done this year and I appreciate all the hard work you put in to make it so amazing💖😊as for this fic, I have never written a shifter au before, but I couldn’t get over this idea, so I went with it. I hope you enjoy it!

“If you guys win?”

“You give me a kiss,” he said, smirking (you wish you could call it infuriating, but really, who were you kidding? It was endearing).

“Is that so?” you popped your hands on your hips, “and if I win?”

“Then… I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “I see. That is a good incentive. You’re on.”

Indulgent smile spreading onto his features, Jin leaned down with his lips puckered, but you ducked out of the way, holding him off at the shoulders.

“Not until I’ve won later!” you laughed, running from the kitchen and leaving him to fume loudly behind you.

“Yah! Don’t make me get my claws out!” he called.

But you knew he was already collecting up the dishes to wash.

Jin was sure he had convinced you to let your friends come for games night. In reality, you were going to say yes no matter what – they were your friends – but the promise of some love from your boyfriend was definitely worth stalling for.

To be honest, he was probably more than happy with giving you the love anyway. Aside from the obvious fact that he was your boyfriend, you had been working hard this holiday and he wanted to spoil you.

So some love, from him and from your friends, was certainly in order.

You knew his tactics for cheering you up. He probably knew you knew. But it didn’t matter – they worked perfectly every time, just as your ways worked for him when he was stressed or down. Good food was a must, and usually you two would end up on the couch as you stroked your fingers through his mane, hearing his deep purrs to affirm his lighter mood.

Of course Jin’s plan to make you feel great was a little more elaborate than that, only allowing you to snatch hugs while he called your friends and prepared what he called ‘nibbles’.

Eventually, you resigned yourself to stealing the snacks, although this didn’t go down well with Jin. After what must have been the sixth time he caught you sneaking away some popcorn, he promptly attacked you with a bear hug, pinning you onto the sofa while you squealed with laughter.

“I should have known,” you giggled, “all I had to do to get your attention was steal your food!”

“Okay, I get it,” he conceded, “let’s wait here until they arrive.”

Peppering your face with kisses, he slid off you and tucked you against his side. Though he flicked on the TV, neither of you paid much attention to it as you swung your legs over his lap and curled up against him, content with each other’s presence until the doorbell sounded.

Tae rummaged in the little basket Jin had prepared, eventually producing a card, being sure to cup his hands and hide it from sight. A smug smile stretched across his mouth.

Tucking the card into his pocket, he swaggered forwards to stand in front of you all; you were spread across the two sofas, according to which team you were on.

And so it began.

“A movie!”

“4 words!”

“First word…”

As he bent his knees, the shouting started straight away. Trying to focus on him instead of laughing at your friends, you watched as he settled in a crouching position.

“Kneeling!”

“Stooping!”

“Floor!”

“Why would it be the floor, Hobi?”

“Maybe it is, you never know!”

“It’s not the floor, look, he’s shaking his head!”

“Hey!”

Two ears had sprouted from Taehyung’s head, and now fuzzy stripes made themselves known on his face. Curling his fingers, he made a pouncing motion as he showed his claws.

“Scary?” Jimin guessed first.

“Hunter!”

Suddenly the frown melted from your face, the answer clear to you.

“Crouching! It’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon!”

Clapping his hands, Tae stood back up again, a proud smile coming your way. As he squeezed back in beside you on the sofa, you glanced at Jin. But though you had expected him to glare back at you from fear of losing your little game, however pointless it was, instead you were met with a cocky quirk of the eyebrows.

However, the way Yoongi’s eyes widened when he read his card gave you back some confidence. His cheeks turned bright red, but he huffed anyway and positioned himself in the middle of the room.

“I-I don’t know how to…”

“Yes you do Yoongi,” Jin urged, “get on with it.”

You weren’t sure you had ever seen a bigger eye roll than the one Yoongi gave, but he complied anyway.

“Okay… one word! Film?” Joon started, leaning forwards and studying Yoongi’s gestures.

“Nonono, that’s a musical,” Jungkook interrupted.

Yoongi nodded and moved on. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when he turned to the side and started strutting, swishing his butt about with his hands on his hips. For someone who looked as embarrassed as he did right now, he was really going for it.

“Sexy!”

“Scarring?”

“Oh my god, is it Burlesque?”

“You’ve watched that?”

“It’s not Burlesque, look!”

The next to resort to shifting, Yoongi was now prancing around in a circle with his tail in the air.

“Tail! Bum!”

“Cat-rocity!”

“Jin, shut up-“

Even though you knew he was the most versatile shifter of the group, it still surprised you when he jumped and landed as a tabby cat, then a black one.

“Cheating! Cheating!”

“Hobi, Tae literally shifted in your round too.”

“I know! I know!” Jungkook leapt from his seat, hand dancing in the air, “It’s Cats! Is it Cats?”

“Yep,” Yoongi replied gruffly.

Turning back to his fully human form, he crossed his arms tightly as he sat back down.

“This is rigged!” you complained, “Charades is so much easier when you can change shape!”

“We can only change to one animal,” Jin replied as he got up to hand the basket back to your team.

“Sure does come in handy when your card is Cats, though,” you quipped in return, but Jimin had already got up.

Turning your attention back to the front, you watched as he swooped into the air, suddenly a small bundle of wings and feathers. Of course, he apparently had a tailor-made card as well. In fairness, it was quite entertaining.

Stopping in mid-flight, he brought a wing across his chest (over-dramatic, even as a bird) and flopped to the ground, landing in human form again, eyes closed.

“Death!”

“Getting shot!”

“Floor!”

“Hobi, what films do you know called ‘floor’?”

Back on his feet, Jimin was sticking his tongue out, waving his hands at the side of his head.

“Rude!”

“Childish?”

“A… a dead child!?” (he had fallen back to the floor)

“Time’s up!” Jin exclaimed then, eliciting groans from the three of you who slumped back on the sofa.

“Come on guys, it was ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’” Jimin got to his knees, “see? Mocking… bird… killed…”

“Too hard,” grumbled Tae.

Jin’s team was up next, and although they guessed Kung Fu Panda correctly, you thought it a fitting consequence that Joon was now stuck with fluffy black ears on his head. Usually a bear shifter, he clearly didn’t find it as easy as Yoongi to change it up.

Refusing to look at your scheming boyfriend, you focussed hard during the next round, not liking the fact his team was drawing ahead of yours.

However, their next turn crashed and burned, not without an intensely heated debate about the differences between Spiderman and Antman and how to suitably portray them.

Next up, you reached for a card, hoping you didn’t get a difficult one. If Jin could manage to fix the cards for the shifters among you, you hoped he would go easy on you.

Apparently not.

Despite not being able to change shape, you thought you acted out the Wolf of Wall Street pretty well. Jimin guessed it just in time, thankfully before you resorted to any of the… well, more explicit content.

Perhaps Jin had been hoping for that, you thought, smirking back at him as you took your seat.

By now the other team were back around to Yoongi, who, handily, had to act out the Cat in the Hat.

It didn’t take long.

From here on in, the game devolved into Jin’s laughter and your groans as the cards magically got harder for your team. Seriously, how can you go about Pulp Fiction in charades?

And then there was Jin, roaring in all his majesty and putting an imaginary crown on his head. There was no need for Jungkook to look so proud when he guessed the Lion King, anyone could have seen that. You were surprised at how long it took them, Jin having to throw himself from a cliff screaming and howling for them to guess it.

But who were you kidding? Of course your boyfriend was going to try to sabotage you, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t having a good night, mind completely away from your work.

By the time you waved your friends off, you had laughed yourself sore at Hobi’s silly guesses and Jin’s dramatics, stuffed yourself with the damn nibbles and were ready to fall into bed and sleep happily.

On leaving the shower later on, you found Jin already waiting for you in bed. Seeing you, he grinned – that endearing infuriating grin – and spread his arms wide.

“Where’s my kiss, then?”

“No way!” you scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed with hand over your heart, “you rigged that game!”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You liar, Mr Lion-the-Witch-and-the-Wardrobe. We totally would have won!”

“But you didn’t,” he smirked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, only to be assaulted by light tickles to your sides.

“Hey!” you gasped, suddenly finding yourself underneath him. And gosh, no matter how long you had been dating this man, he never failed to make the blood rush to your cheeks.

Triumphant smile adorning his face, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. They lingered there, and only pride stopped you pulling his face closer still. When he eventually pulled away, a grin spread onto your face.

“Ha! You kissed me! I did win!!”

Eyes widening almost comically, a look of anguish quickly took over Jin’s face.

“Aargh! Nooo!” he cried, melodramatic as always as he flopped back to his pillow.

The sound of your laughter was all that followed as you climbed into bed next to him, satisfied when his arms circled your waist to tug your closer. Until he started trying to pull you over to face him.

“Give me a kiss!”

“Nope!” you laughed, “I won!”

A valiant effort was made on your part to squirm away from your boyfriend, ending with several kisses to your face and neck as he aimed for, and missed, your mouth. Coming in breathless gasps, your laughter rang out in the dim room.

“Spoilsport,” he muttered eventually, though he failed to sound genuinely bitter.

Finally dissolving, you hid your giggles in his chest as you settled in his arms. It was only once your eyes slid shut that he whispered into your hair.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

Pulling away to look at him, even in the low light, you smiled widely.

“Of course I did! Thank you, Jinnie.”

(It’s safe to say you both kissed each other, in the end)

Thank you for reading! To Eva, happy holidays and I hope you liked it!💞

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine

My main masterlist here

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mulderist · 4 years ago

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Wicked Game

previous chapter // read on A03 // @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 7 3rd District Precinct 12:31 a.m.

The second wind finally arrived. I paced the floor in Interrogation Room 5 with arms folded tight across my chest. I felt like a gun ready to go off. My focus was on Theo Chambers, enforcer to Carlo Lodi. He sat handcuffed in his expensive blue suit with a shit-eating grin. After I got him processed I let him stew and he behaved, which was a bit of a surprise.

“I could do this all night, you know, “ I said standing at the edge of the table looking at the remains of a weak cup of coffee and half a pack of Morleys. “Even if we’re just sitting here in silence.”

I paused and listened for dramatic affect. “You know, I read somewhere that silence is golden but, I don’t think you like to keep quiet.”

“How’s the jaw,” he responded with a puff of smoke and a tilt of his chin.

I turned and pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table, dragging it purposefully across the floor creating a sound like nails on a chalkboard.

“Well, you hit like a featherweight so a stiff drink and I was right as rain.” I said as I sat down. “Speaking of which, does Lodi get you to do all his heavy lifting? Use you like a trained dog; Theo attack! Theo come! Good boy Theo...”

“You wanna cut the bullshit?” he interrupted.

“Indeed I do. You want to tell me how long you’ve been running out of the Navy Yard?”

Theo cracked a smile and tapped his cigarette against the discolored ashtray. He then pinched it between his thumb and index finger, covering the end to hide the glow. Standard technique for someone who does a lot of their work in the shadows. I continued with my questioning.

“Is the taxi company your only front?”

“Mum’s the word, detective,” he said.

“Do the taxis only run in the southeast?” I pressed.

Theo tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth then leaned back as far as he could. Silent, aside from the sound of the metal chain pulling across the top of the table. His cuffed hands knitted together.

“Do the taxis run anywhere else in the District? Down Constitution Ave.? Down to the Tidal Basin? Over the bridge into Virginia?”

“Mum’s. The. Word,” Theo said pointedly, letting the cig hang from his lip. I was wired and on the edge. I rose and placed my hands on my hips. I resisted the urge to hit him; punch him square in the jaw, bloody his nose, pin him against the table. Really make him hurt. Instead, using better judgement, I turned on my heel and left the room, slamming the door behind me.

Several officers were in the hallway and scattered when they saw me. Word travels fast when you bring in a c-list celebrity from the crime sheets. I moved past them and their whispering and took a walk to the bullpen. The chorus of ringing phones and typewriters was in full swing. I approached my desk and took the liberty of kicking the unsuspecting wastebasket. It ricocheted and rolled away from where I was standing. A few heads perked up at the noise but returned to their work just as quickly. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. I was getting nowhere slowly.

“Rough night?” I heard the captain’s voice from behind me.

“Just blowing off some steam,” I said with an exhale, “So far I haven’t gotten much out of our new friend Theo. I need to talk to his boss.”

“He’s already been questioned,” Skinner said as I crouched down to straighten up the wastebasket. I glanced at my shoes, which were probably ruined from traipsing around in the storm. Maybe on a day off I’d buy another pair.

“Not by me,” I replied and started out of the bullpen back to the interrogation rooms. I went two doors down but before I could turn the knob, Skinner caught up and stopped me.

“Sir, may I ask what you’re doing?”

“I want to remind you that this is a valuable asset. I commend your effort in apprehending him and his enforcer,” he said in a low voice. I sensed there was more to that statement. This case already had too many hands involved.

“But you don’t want me to unravel this seemingly tightly knit case with my usual brand of questioning.”

Skinner squared his jaw.

“Oh, now I get it,” I continued. “You already talked to him and you were just going to leave it at that. No one else in or out?”

“Are you doubting my methods, Mulder?”

“I’m doubting the line of questioning,” my voice lowered and I clenched my fist, “We are so close to tying things together with this ring and Spender’s involvement. I need to see how far up this goes.”

“We already have the evidence to pin Lodi for Skinner’s murder,” Skinner said. I shifted my stance. “We just need something to narrow down where the heroin was being distributed.

“That’s all I want to do. Because as soon as I get what I need, I’m going home. Believe me sir I want to close this and move on. This case has already taken up too much of my life.”

Skinner nodded. I knew I was walking into a high-stakes game with the house’s money and a cold shoulder from Lady Luck. My hand gripped the doorknob and I entered the smoke filled room.

Another table, another ashtray, another handcuffed suspect. Carlo Lodi sat just like he did when I confronted him at the restaurant; an air of superiority trapped in a grey pin-stripped suit. breathed life into a superficial demeanor as cool as a summer breeze.

“We meet again Mr Lodi,” I began as I pulled out the chair and took a seat. I unbuttoned the cuffs of my sleeves then rolled them up towards my elbow. The skin on my forearms felt clammy. I couldn’t wait to get into fresh, dry clothes when this was all over.

“Quite the set-up you’ve got down at the docks. Smart to use a small crew. Less people to inventory when you get caught.”

“C’mon detective, you know how this works,” Lodi said twisting the ring on his finger, “I ain’t saying anything without my lawyer.”

I continued without missing a beat.

“Vincenti sure knows how to pick ‘em. What makes you hold the title of being his favorite croney? It can’t be your looks.”

“You’re getting nothing from me.”

“Oh I can keep going.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been here? You think you’re being original?”

“I have evidence that connects you to Vincenti. I have proof you operate out of the Navy Yard not to mention proof that you murdered a city detective in cold blood. And if you won’t talk, perhaps your friend down the hall will.”

I watched him light up and take a long drag. Thick white smoke drifted out of his mouth and curled up towards his nostrils.

“Here’s the thing, detective; you got nothing on me. Not a damn thing. My hands are as clean as a nun’s habit. So if you want to listen to yourself talk, then go right ahead. I’ll finish this pack of smokes and wait for my lawyer.”

My second wind dissolved into a subtle breeze, taking the wind out of my sails. I knew his lawyer wasn’t marching through that door anytime soon. I didn’t want to paint myself into a corner. I considered going downstairs to retrieve the bullets that matched his gun. Rub his face in it.

“Alright then,” I said as I pushed back in my chair, “I like the sound of my own voice. Who’s idea was it to use a taxi company, couldn’t have been you could it? Vincenti must have been riding around town and the idea just came to him right? Seems as though an awful lot of people must want a taste of that dust. Gotta give those pushers an extra cut for spreading the word about a top notch supply.”

Lodi pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and cleared his throat.

“The pushers...they’re ants compared to us.” He grunted, “All of that product, all that demand, all because of us. They’d be nothing without us.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

“Are those pushers driving your cabs too? Skimming a little more off the top, just a little closer to that brass ring. Or are you threatening folks just trying to make an honest living, taking their livelihood so you can move the product. Unless, you start recruiting smart looking door-to-door salesmen to sell the dope”

“Yeah, then nice people in the suburbs would be hopheads,” he chuckled at himself, “Mary and Joe with their kids and their white picket fence, flying high getting a little taste of the city. Going mad when they can’t get another fix. Vincenti does say business is business.”

The pop of a match and familiar scent of a Lucky Strike. He waved his hand to extinguish the match and tossed it on the table. I rose from my seat and walked to the opposite corner of the room, glancing at my watch. I needed a drink. My stomach turned at the thought of another boiled down cup of coffee. I looked at Lodi and he flicked away some ash.

“Get comfortable. You’re going to be staying the night.” I said then exited the room.

———

I woke with a start and realized I was still at the precinct. It was a brief respite, maybe thirty minutes of a fitful sleep. A cramp pinched at the side of my neck thanks to how my head was turned towards the back of the couch. The strap from my holster dug into my ribs; I should have taken it off before I laid down. I checked the time and slowly sat upright burying my face in my hands. My head was swimming, my throat felt raw. I stood and went to the water cooler, grabbed a paper cup and pushed the tab. I took a swig, listened for the gurgle then poured in some more.

I walked past my desk to see if any messages had been left in my absence. Nothing. It was just as I left it. Officer Pendrell caught my attention.

“Hey Mulder, the suspect in room 3 was asking for some water a little while ago. Do you know if anyone went back in there?”

“I’m not sure. I took a cat nap but I was going back in there anyway. Have we heard anything from his lawyer?”

“Don’t think so. But I’ll check it out.”

I loosened my tie as I strode down the hall. My shoulders felt stiff as I adjusted the leather strap of the holster.

“Rise and shine,” I said as I entered the room and snapped my fingers. I felt my voice catch in my throat when I saw Lodi on the floor, his arms stretched overhead at an unnatural angle with hands still cuffed to the table. His lips were purple, his eyes looked bulged in their sockets. And then there was the smell. I covered my nose and mouth as I observed the horrible pale tint to the skin on his face. There was a puddle of sick on the floor and some remnants down his front.

“I need some help in here NOW!” I yelled out the door then approached his seemingly lifeless body. His wrists were a dark red from where the cuffs were cutting off the circulation, his fingers and hands already looked dead.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” a voice said behind me, I looked over my shoulder and saw Pendrell hesitantly standing in the doorway.

“Do you have keys?” I asked. He nodded and fumbled in his pocket. I did the honors. With the second cuff released Lodi’s body fell to the floor with a wet smack. The smell hit me again.

“Was it a heart attack?” Pendrell offered as he came over. Two other officers crowded in the doorway to get their looks in.

“Someone get Captain Skinner,” I said then turned my attention back to the body. I leaned closer and noticed a white trail down the corner of his mouth, crusting on the lips. Pendrell rounded the other side of the interrogation table and bent down, covering the lower part of his face.

“Mulder look.” He was pointing at a discarded water cup. The wheels started turning. I stood quickly and left the room, leaving Pendrell to document the scene. I went two doors down and saw Theo Chambers in a similar state. He had collapsed across the table, cuffed hands hung off the edge. The smell didn’t hit as hard but there was more blood. Theo had a thick smear of it under his nose down to his mouth. I left the room and charged down the hall, meeting Skinner.

“What the hell happened here, Mulder?”

“Both suspects are dead. I think they were poisoned.”

“Excuse me?”

“Someone...someone knew. Somebody discovered they were caught and wanted to rub them out.”

“Who would have known that?”

“It’s the mob, sir. Word travels fast.”

“Mulder...Hey! Mulder!”

“I need to get the boys in forensics up here. No one touches these two!” I was rambling, I could feel it. Things took a turn faster than a Grand Prix driver. I heard dissonance in my ears as I found the closest telephone. I pulled the rotary to dial the lab. I closed my eyes to try and center myself, listened to the ring in the earpiece. I hoped one of the boys was awake down there. Another ring and a groggy voice answered.

“Langley, it’s Mulder. Are Byers and Frohike with you?”

I could hear a yawn before he said, “Frohike called it a night a few hours ago but Byers is still burning the midnight oil.”

“I need the two of you up here with your bag of tricks. We’ve got a couple of stiffs in the intero rooms.”

“Wait a minute, someone dropped them off?”

“No. It’s a fresh scene.” I wiped my brow.

There was a pause and I heard him adjust the phone.

“We’ll be right up.”

#i wrote this #historical au #xf fanfic #my fic

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