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nottodayjjk · 3 years

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dirty little secret ~ knj

❆ summary: one fateful night in december, you come to acquire santa's naughty or nice list by accident. together with your neighbour and best friend namjoon you uncover the dirty secrets of your neighbours plunging everything into chaos. bringing mischief about is all fun games, until your own little secret appears on the naughty and nice list.

❆ pairing: namjoon x female reader (minor appearance of other idols)

❆ word count: 10,4k

❆ genre: humor, romance, fluff, smut

❆ fic warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), language

❆ rating: 18+

❆ notes from the author: this fic is part of a hoeliday well spent from the christmas in july collab hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung and @xiaokoo and is loosely based on the hallmark channel-movie ‘naughty or nice’ (2012). i had a lot of fun writing this! big thank you again to @kookdiaries for creating this incredible banner and for @minigum for being the most wonderful beta reader <3

❆ tag list: @shameless-army @writtenwhalien @shrimpmsg @moonchild1

In the dark of the night, snow was falling softly and covered the street in peaceful quietness. Christmas decorations and flickering candles adorned the lit windows and lights were beautifully draped around snow-covered bushes. Sparkling reindeers pulled Santa’s carriage and inflated snowmen waved happily at cars driving by. Christmas time had just begun.

A few lamps illuminated the street with their yellow dimmed light as a dark, giant shadow slipped past. Quiet footsteps could be heard in the stillness of the cold winter night, wading through ankle-deep snow in heavy black boots. They were on their way to the sturdy apartment building on the left side of the desolate street, determined to fulfil their quest. They took another look around before they slipped through the glass door, the red fabric of their clothes gleamed under the flickering light of the broken lamp of the entrance lobby. Then, the night was quiet again.

You had been out with your best friend and next-door neighbour Namjoon whom you knew a few years by now. From the first day you had set foot in the small apartment building, he had been a helping hand, mainly through helping you carry a myriad of small boxes and things all the way up to the 6th floor where the both of you lived. The elevator had, of course, been out of order on that day. But he hadn’t complained at all! And because he had gone way out of his way even though he had only met you that same day, you had invited him to a take-away pizza and a bottle of cheap wine from the supermarket right around the corner. You had not expected your first night in your new home to be like this, to be so much fun. He had stayed until the morning, the two of you talking about anything and everything until the birds had chirped good morning outside. And the bond between the two of you had only grown from there on out.

You had visited a local Christmas market together, drinking a whole lot of eggnog and relishing in the joyful spirit of Christmas. You had never been someone to celebrate Christmas before you had met Namjoon. In your first year, he had basically dragged you to the market and filled you up with all kinds of different Christmassy drinks and snacks, bought you several gingerbread hearts, and even got you to ride one of the many attractions with him. The next day had been awful, the hot chocolate with rum had come out the same way that it had gone in. Still, it had been the most joyous Christmas time you had ever had.

Ever since then, he always did something new with you every Christmas. Buying a tree, seeing a Santa Claus show in the city centre, or writing letters with long wish lists to Santa. But it had never come down to actually spending Christmas eve and morning together, to your disappointment. He usually drove to his parents, a three-hour ride from where you lived, leaving you on your own to sulk in loneliness until he came back for New Year’s Eve.

Well, this year he had bugged you until you had agreed to go décor shopping for your apartment with him. It had made him sad to see your living space so empty during a cheery time like this. He got you all the basic things: fairy lights, cute little snowmen that had the friendliest smiles, a whole lot of candlesticks with red candles that smelled like gingerbread and cinnamon, hell, even glitter balls and bows for the small tree he also had gotten you.

After putting all the decorations up and “to celebrate your joyful shopping spree”, as Namjoon had called it, he had once again persuaded you to go to the Christmas market, letting no feeble excuses count. He had been in too good of a mood anyway for you to turn him down. You found it cute when he was all excited and giddy like this.

He had ordered eggnog after eggnog. His infectious enthusiasm had only gone up, not down a tad as you had hoped. But after the third eggnog, you hadn’t minded anymore anyway. Namjoon had entertained you all through the evening, making you laugh and enjoy yourself after a long week of studying and learning. Even though it had just snowed the other day, the eggnog had held you warm through and through, your cheeks feeling hot. Maybe it had also been a little bit because of Namjoon and how he had scooted closer and closer to you throughout the evening, ‘to keep each other warm’ as he had stated.

You had stayed until the booth had closed and the owner had hushed you to finally head home. Given both of your inebriated states, getting home had taken twice as long as it did when you’d left from home to go out.

As you had reached the door, waving a last goodbye to Namjoon who had stumbled clumsily into his own apartment, it had taken you a few minutes until you finally had gotten the key into the hole. You hadn’t even bothered to brush your teeth, only changing into comfy pyjamas – which had been quite the task – and slipping into bed. Dreamland hadn’t waited long to come, and you had fallen sound asleep.

So, to no one’s surprise, you didn’t hear when soft but heavy footsteps approached your apartment in the middle of the night. Didn’t spot the broad shadow that could be seen through the small gap under your door where the light fell in. Didn’t notice when a thick package wrapped with packing paper was pushed through the letter slot of your apartment door.

The package fell to the ground with a gentle thud. The towering figure hummed a merry tune before taking off again. You only turned around in your sleep, mumbling, “No more eggnog, Namjoon”, before it was quiet once more.

The rest of the night went uneventfully, and the package laid peacefully on your door mat until morning came.

A pounding headache. That was what had woken you up. The eggnog hadn’t been a good idea from the start, and you had told Namjoon several times. But even though he had listened to you, he had ignored your reasonable request. He hadn’t really given you a choice to begin with. And you hadn’t wanted to complain. At least he had paid and that was all that had been needed to convince you.

While Namjoon was already producing his own music, you were still a university student majoring in Art. You got by fine with the money your parents sent you and what you earned from your part-time job at the library, but you were still glad for every penny you could keep and save for after university. You dreamed of opening your own business and, heck, you needed a lot of money for that.

When Namjoon had heard of your ideas, he had been in immediately, supporting you in every way possible. Even if it meant paying for your drinks or your museum visits on the weekend. As long as he got to spend time with you, it was worth all his money.

You desperately grabbled for the nightstand. Luckily, you had prepared pain meds and water in advance, even a small piece of toast. Your nights out with Namjoon usually ended like this, so you are accustomed to it.

Sitting up a little, you popped the pills into your mouth first before chucking the water into your throat as if your life depended on it. Once you’d dealt with that, you reached towards the toast, munching on it until it was no more.

You felt better immediately as the medicine worked its way through your system and the toast soaked up the remaining alcohol in your stomach. Slowly the turns in your stomach lessened and until there was one thing overtaking your needs. It was time for coffee.

Slowly, you got up, swaying a little back onto the bed but overall, it was not as bad as you’d had expected. Sure, the eggnog had made your stomach a little weak, but you felt certain it could handle the coffee. Otherwise, you couldn’t make it through the day. Coffee was vital right now.

On the way out of your bedroom, you snatched your long silk gown, putting it on. You headed straight to the coffee machine, pushing the little blinking button so it started grinding the black beans. The soft smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air as you grabbed a big mug from the sink. You sighed and leaned one hip on the counter.

As you waited for the coffee you looked around and your gaze fell onto an exceptionally cheery snowman on your coffee table. You had never been keen on Christmas decorations. They were too bright, too colourful, and too cheesy.

Well, jokes on you. All the things the two of you had bought, the fairy lights, red candles, a few reindeers and snowmen, and some green fir branches, were now spread around your apartment, the small tree chilling next to your TV in the corner. It was hard to say ‘No’ to Namjoon’s puppy eyes. He usually got his way with you.

It had also been his idea to not only put the lights on the curtain rods but to wind them around them, too.

He had held you safely by your waist as you had stood on the ladder to reach up there. His long, slender hands had felt so warm through your clothes that your heart had stuttered for a second and you had gotten the job done rather quickly to get away from this weird feeling that had erupted in your chest. Because you couldn’t admit it to yourself. You couldn’t admit that Namjoon had become more than a best friend to you over the last few years.

But you had to confess; the lights were very very pretty. You even thought about keeping them up there after Christmas. They brought a soft glow around the room that made it feel unbelievably cosy and romantic.

As you absentmindedly grabbed for your finished cup of coffee you couldn’t help but remember the way Namjoon’s skin had glowed in these lights. How mesmerizing he had looked. How hard you had had to keep yourself from putting a hand up to one of his cheeks and caressing his soft skin.

You lost yourself in the memory for a second before you noticed something very peculiar from the corner of your eye. Something very square and brown. It was a package. On your doormat. ‘What in god’s name,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed it in curious suspicion. The post usually never came that early. Especially not on a Saturday. And why had no one rang the bell? It was odd, to say the least.

You left your coffee on the counter, steam still rising in puffy clouds from the cup. Cautiously, you made your way over to the mysterious package that read your full address, but no sender. It was quite big, now that you had gotten closer, and it had you wondering how it had fit through the narrow letter slot. Maybe Namjoon was pulling a prank on you?

Before you picked up the package, you opened the door and checked the hallway, frantically looking left and right. But no one was there, not even Namjoon to cheekily grin at you.

Closing the door behind you, you took the brown package and laid it down on the counter next to your coffee. You eyed it once more while taking a long sip from the beverage. Should you open it? What if there was something… bad or deadly inside? You had heard of such packages before on the news. People sent them to get revenge on ex-partners or enemies. Well, you had no such things… and Namjoon seemed to be out of the picture as well.

After some more staring, curiosity finally got the best of you, and you carefully ripped open the brown packing paper. It revealed a heavy book that was edged in red velvety fabric that had golden ornaments engraved. Imprinted on it was the lettering “Naughty or Nice”. Wait- what?!

Snorting laughter erupted from your chest. This had to be a prank, right? ‘Namjoon’s good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Keeps hiding until I actually look at the book. Not a very good prank, but alright…’

As you were about to open it, you could hear a key jingling in front of your door and some mumbled curses. ‘Speaking of the devil.’ Namjoon strode through the door in his pyjama and a long gown, his hair looking dishevelled and eyes still half-closed. He had your spare keys which gave him the possibility to let himself in whenever and you didn’t mind. At this point, it had become commonplace.

You watched with an amused grin as he immediately scuffed over to the coffee machine, grabbing another cup from the sink, and turning it on once more. He inhaled the smell just like you did before he turned around to face you.

“Morning, Y/N,” he hummed, and a lop-sided grin adorned his lips. Hell, how did this sleepy look fit him so well? “How is your stomach?”

You crossed your arms and leant back on the counter. “Better than I thought. You?”

“Same, same. I just really craved your coffee. This machine is a literal angel!” He turned back around to grab his coffee and take a big gulp before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Very funny, by the way.” You pointed at the book behind you, still laying unopened on your counter. “You never have Christmas-pranked me before so that’s a first. But it isn’t one of your best ideas, if I can be honest with you.”

There was a moment of silence. You had expected him to laugh at you or make a clever remark about how he had gotten you to open it. But… nothing. He just blankly stared at you. “What?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Making this book look like Santa’s Naughty or Nice list? Very funny, Namjoon, very funny!” You chuckled a little at him pretending not to know what you were talking about.

He spied over your shoulder, reading the lettering. And shook his head. “Y/N. I… didn’t prank you. This–“ He pointed to the book. “–is nothing I came up with. Though I must say, I think it’s a pretty good idea!” He snickered a little and took another sip of his coffee.

“But–“ You turned around to the book. “–who sent it to me then? I don’t know who else would try and prank me…” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taking another look at the packing paper. Still nothing but your address.

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I was just about to when you came through the door.” You put a hand on the binding. The velvet fabric felt soft under your fingertips and the golden lettering glittered in the glim of the fairy lights. It looked so… real.

Carefully, you opened it, coming face to face with a blank page. Maybe the others? You browsed to the next page. And the next. And the next. But they were all blank, not even a tiny little bit of ink to be seen. ‘Weird…’

Skimming through the rest of the book, you looked for anything peculiar. Nothing. “It’s empty,” you told Namjoon, while going back to the first page and leaving it open.

You heard shuffling on the floor and suddenly Namjoon leaned over your shoulder to look at the book. He stretched out his hand to skim through it as well. He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and his breath on your neck as he let out a confused huff.

When he stepped back from you after inspecting the book, you wished him back closer behind you. ‘Stop that,’ you scolded yourself in your head. ‘He is your best friend!’

“Well, it actually looks like someone pulled a prank on you,” Namjoon stated while making himself another cup of coffee. He usually runs on three. On a good day. That you knew his coffee consumption so well said a lot about how regularly he came over in the morning to use your coffee machine.

“Apparently…”

Loud bass suddenly disrupted the morning, booming through the wall to your left. ‘No, not again!’ It was your other neighbour… Jungkook. He kept it down on most days. But he always pulled this on a Saturday morning, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you. You had banged on the wall a few times before. On some days he even turned the music down after your knocking complaint. But today, it was on a whole other level. As if he knew you had been out late and had a mild hangover.

“Ugh, I’ll swear I’ll punch him some day,” you mumbled while pinching your eyebrows in frustration.

Namjoon knew you weren’t kidding. Jungkook had been getting on your nerves ever since he had moved in next door. Before him, there lived a nice and quiet lady who occasionally baked chocolate cookies for the two of you and had always put something nice in front of your door during Christmas time. Now, there was Jungkook. Student, party animal, and the type to listen to music so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Namjoon said. “But I also don’t want to have to visit you in prison during Christmas time.” He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair before chucking down his coffee.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling noise of paper coming from the counter. The book! It was turning its pages on its own. “Holy-“

You stepped in front of the counter, Namjoon following closely, eyes as wide as the moon. “How is that possible?” he whispered while peering over your shoulder again.

A golden light bloomed from the Naughty or Nice book and the two of you just stared at in great awe as sparkles danced around the room. “I’m usually not one to believe in magic,” Namjoon muttered under his breath. “But this is a whole new thing…”

The turning stopped and the pages gently dropped down. Beautiful, curved letters emerged, writing your neighbour’s name. They shone golden in the light. “What is happening?” you hissed while intently watching the book. Namjoon just shrugged his shoulders, speechless.

Jeon Jungkook: always leaves his trash in front of Mrs. Kim’s apartment door

Underneath was a moving picture, showing Jungkook looking around frantically before putting his trash bag on Mrs. Kim’s doormat and a more detailed description of what was going on. You gasped out in disbelief. “Mrs. Kim is always so nice! How dare he!?”

Namjoon let out an angry huff. “You’ve got a good point but-“ His forehead crinkled in confusion and scepticism. “How does it do that?”

You shrugged, turning the page to see if it had a built-in display. But… there was nothing. It was just a normal page like any other. You turned back to the picture of Jungkook where he had gotten caught in the act. By whom? You didn’t know, could only guess… But no, this was not possible. Santa didn’t exist. But… an idea came to your head.

“Hmm, let’s put this to a test,” you said as the pounding bass continued to boom through the wall. You left the book open, the image of Jungkook engraved in your head, as you turned on your heels and made your way over to the door.

“You actually gonna go over there?” Namjoon trailed behind you, not sure if this was the right thing to do. You definitely had a reason to be angry at Jungkook. But what if this was all just a scam? Well, it felt far too real for that, but Namjoon wasn’t yet ready to call his beliefs into question. This was insane.

You nodded and opened the door. “He has been getting on my nerves for a few weeks now. It’s time to put this to a stop.” You gave him one last determined book before stepping out into the hallway.

Namjoon shook his head in amusement at your vendetta and stopped at your doorstep, leaning against the frame watching you. This was your fight. He wouldn’t get between the frontlines. He knew your anger all too well.

You rapped viciously on the door; quite sure Jungkook wouldn’t hear any of it. And of course, the door didn’t open and the music blared on. So, you resorted to a more effective method. You pressed the button of the bell and held it down. ‘I will have you answer your door even if it takes the whole freaking day.’

It took a few seconds, but you heard the music fading and someone swearing behind the door. It worked. A malicious smirk adorned your lips. You weren’t even nervous, more excited to try the spicy information you had acquired about him. The keys jingled in the keyhole and an annoyed face appeared in the ajar door. “What is it?”

You crossed your arms and put on your most intimidating look. The secret from the book gave you a hell of a confident boost. “Jungkook,” you started, “I’ve told you many many times to quiet it down.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I know. I’m sorry but-“

You cut him off immediately. “No buts. You’re either gonna tone it down from now on or…”

“Or what? You’re trying to threaten me?” He laughed and threw his head back. “That’s new. Well, you’ve got nothing on me, Y/N.”

You squinted your eyes at him, and a smile grew on your face. “You sure?”

Jungkook leaned against the door frame while looking bored. The arrogant look on his face gave you the rest of the encouragement you needed. “Well,” you swirled one of your hair strands around your finger, “I know you’re putting your trash bags on Mrs. Kim’s doormat, so you don’t have to take it out yourself…”

It took a moment for Jungkook to realise what you just said. But when he finally did, his jaw almost dropped down to his knees. “How-“

“The poor woman. I think she deserves to know…” You turned around, feeling the power pulsating in your hands. It was electrifying! You slowly strode over to your apartment.

“Y/N!” Jungkook called out after you, desperation apparent in his voice. “I-“ He dropped his head in defeat, all pride and arrogance had left his body. “If you don’t tell her, I promise I’m gonna tone it down from now on,” he caved in.

“You better,” you just answered and walked away, leaving a speechless Jungkook by his door.

Namjoon snickered as you entered your apartment again, finding the whole situation very amusing. “Have you seen his face? He was so stunned!” Both of you burst out into a fit of laughter, needing a few seconds to calm yourselves down again.

You went back to the still open book. “So it tells the truth…” you stated while tracing the letters with your fingers when they suddenly started to disappear. “Oh! They’re vanishing!”

“Probably because you called him out on that,” Namjoon assumed, looking at the now empty page and then at you. “You know what that means… right?”

You turned it over in your head for a few seconds before you answered Namjoon’s gaze with a mischievous smile. “Let’s discover some secrets this Christmas!”

And so, the two of you went on to discover the hidden secrets and misdeeds of all of your neighbours. The book was never wrong. Not when it told you that Mrs. Kim had a secret fling with Mr. Sung from floor 5 and they were acting like giddy teenagers, that Mrs. Lee let her dog pee on Mrs. Park’s door mat once in a while because they couldn’t stand each other, that Soonyoung from second floor liked to bathe in pure milk occasionally, that Yeji from first floor stole Mr. Chew’s newspaper now and then because he was rude to basically everyone in the building, that Taehyung from fourth floor had sang Christmas carols in the middle of the night for Yeji because he had been out to drink, and many many more.

Some of them you used for your amusement, but most of them were kept between the both of you. You felt closer to Namjoon than ever before. Sharing and keeping secrets about your neighbours bound you together. And Christmas time was a blast, for the both of you! You went out once in a while to the Christmas market again but usually you kept your noses in the Naughty or Nice book, awaiting the next secret to appear. So, Christmas time went by in a happy blur.

After coming home from another one of your merry adventures, you began to realise that this might all be over soon. Actually, Christmas evening was tomorrow already and Namjoon would probably be off to his parents. You didn’t want to stop discovering all these secrets with Namjoon. You had spent a lot of time together; it had been so much fun. And you liked being around him, you knew that. You weren’t ready to admit it, but you had fallen in love with him even more by now. Even after all these years, his way of living and his wisdom still amazed you to no end.

Your thoughts were suddenly disrupted by Namjoon as the both of you reached your apartment door. “Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. Namjoon stood in front of you, nervously wrenching his hands. You had never seen him skittish before. Had something happened?

He took a deep breath before he began to speak. “I was… wondering if you wanted to spent Christmas together?” Namjoon nervously scratched his head. “I-“ he stumbled over his own words for a moment. “I don’t want you to be alone for Christmas. And my parents won’t be at home anyway. So, I was wondering- I mean-“ He rambled on and gestured wildly between the both of you.

To stop him, you gently put your hand on his arm. “Yes,” you answered simply and smiled at him happily, not able to contain your excitement at his request. Your heart was beating in your chest. Spending Christmas with Namjoon was a dream come true.

“I... would love to.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly while not being able to meet his eyes. You were sure he would be able to read your confused feelings for him right there.

He let out a small huff of relief. “Good, good… We can go grocery shopping together tomorrow if you want. So we can pick something to eat that we both like.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Meet in the morning as usual?” you asked, fidgeting with your jacket sleeve.

Namjoon nodded. “I will cook of course. You will be my guest! Also, your cooking skills might be a little insufficient for Christmas…” Mischievousness gleamed in his eyes and you just shook your head, laughing a little.

“I think my cooking skills are fine as they are. It’s not my fault you don’t like the food that I cook!” you exclaimed and hit his shoulder playfully. “Also, your food might taste better than mine. But you’re definitely more chaotic than I am!”

“Okay, okay,” he put his hands up in defeat. “You’ve got a point. I’m still cooking though.” He took off his beanie to run a hand through his hair. He stretched his arms out, motioning for you to give him a goodbye-hug.

Your skin tingled as you obliged. His hands rested on your back as he tugged you close. “Good night, Y/N,” he whispered into your ear, eliciting a shiver running down your back. Gosh, his voice and his soft lips were hovering right next to your ear. It created images in your head you shouldn’t be thinking about in the proximity of your best friend, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You swallowed a big lump in your throat. “Good night to you too,” you whispered back with a hoarse voice, heart still fluttering. He could hear the rapid beating for sure.

Both of you stayed in the hug longer than necessary, thinking about what would become of your adventures once Christmas was over. You were sure the book would disappear, that its owner would come to get it.

You sighed before stepping away from Namjoon, giving him a small smile before pulling out your keys. He went over to his door, a jingling noise reaching your ears. You looked over your shoulder before entering your apartment.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” Namjoon called over in a hushed voice before he disappeared behind his own door. Little did you and he know what effect these last few words would have on you…

Wanton sounds escaped your mouth as your hands grasped fiercely for your sheets. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body as you felt a desperate mouth latching onto your clit, tongue poking out to gratify your little bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt… overwhelming.

You couldn’t hold in a lewd moan as the tongue worked magic on you. “Please–“ You couldn’t form a whole sentence without being interrupted by your own moans.

You felt a hand softly caressing your thigh. “Y/N,” a familiar voice reached your ear, making you perk up. Was this… real? You lifted yourself on your elbows to see if you were right with your guess.

Looking up from between your legs was a tousled Namjoon, cheeks red and lips glistening in the light of your fairy lights. He looked like an angel with his skin glowing golden and his hair illuminated.

It felt like a dream come true…

It wasn’t the morning light waking you up nor the loud traffic noise from the street in front of your apartment building. No. What woke you up was the growing wetness between your legs. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, a light film of sweat covered your forehead. Well, that had been… hot.

You had had dreams of Namjoon before. Funny ones, sad ones, even ones where the two of you had been dating. But with things like this, you had only been daydreaming about thus far. It had you all riled up, a little embarrassed, but first and foremost horny.

His head between your legs and his tongue on your clit had felt so real. Oh, what you’d give to actually get to feel that. But you were sure that it would remain something that stayed in your daydreams, when you had to release some friction behind your bedroom doors.

You sighed, pushing the thick blanket to the side. You had to take care of the mess between your legs and there was only one place that always helped: the shower. You had to get this dream out of your head before Namjoon would come over. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes without thinking of the sinful scene that repeated itself again and again in your head.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ you pushed yourself to get out of bed and into the shower. As if you didn’t enjoy this…

As you sat down by the book again with a big cup of fresh coffee, you were actually wondering if you’d ever appear on the list. Or Namjoon. And which secret of yours it would be. So far, it hadn’t spilled any of yours. But it would be merely a matter of time until the pages would reveal what you had kept from one another. Even though there were barely any secrets between the two of you. Only this… this was kind of a major one.

Absent-mindedly, you browsed through the book again. What secret would reveal itself today? Maybe about this dude all up on floor 7 that was always wearing a beanie and sunglasses or that girl from over the street that was walking her dog up and down the street.

Someone was entering the apartment. Namjoon rounded the corner and came into your view. He was also still in his morning clothes, his feet hidden beneath two slippers. Your gazes met shortly, a quick nod exchanged and gentle smiles, before he made a turn.

“And?” He strolled over to the coffee machine, slippers scratching on the floor. “Anything new?” He nodded towards the book sprawled out in front of you.

“I haven’t really checked yet, give me a second.” You concentrated back on the book, pages sliding through your fingers as you looked for a new secret until you found it. You didn’t really pay any attention at first. But then you read your name in big, curved letters. A quiet gasp slipped past your lips.

Checking to see if Namjoon was still making coffee, you hoped he was not aware of your little slip up. He happily worked away, putting coffee beans into the machine, whistling ‘Jingle Bells Rock’ to the puckering sound of the milk frother.

Then, you turned your attention back to the book. When you read Has naughty dreams of their best friend in small letters, your heart sped up and your breathing got ragged. Underneath it was, like it had always been the case before, a more detailed description of what had happened. And a picture of you writhing and moaning beneath the sheets. No, why today?!

The words in front of you blurred as you tried to fathom the consequences if Namjoon came to read this. Your friendship would be over. He would never speak to you again. Hell, what would he think of you?!

You couldn’t let that happen. He was the only thing in your life that kept you sane. That could not all be thrown away. You quickly closed the book, thinking of something to distract Namjoon.

Unfortunately, the loud thump startled Namjoon. He turned around as he heard the sudden noise. He eyed you for a second and then noticed the closed book under your hands. He put down the coffee spoon he was holding. “Uhm… Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Your eyes are like… this wide.” He put a fair distance between his thumb and his pointer finger.

Quickly shaking your head, you scrambled for words. “It’s nothing. I-I thought I…” Yeah, what did you think? It was hard to lie when Namjoon looked at you like that. Your brain couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, you just gulped heavily.

Namjoon’s coffee was now forgotten, its owner too curious about what you had read and seen. He had, of course, noticed your nervous behaviour, growing suspicious of what you were trying to do. His slippers scraped along the floor again as he casually made his way over to you. With his gaze never leaving your face, he followed your every move.

Clambering for the book, you secured it in your arms before Namjoon could reach for it. He couldn’t find out. Not about the dream. Not about the feelings you held for him. But especially not about the dream. The sinful scenes replayed themselves in your head again and you felt your cheeks heating up once more. “There is nothing in there,” you exclaimed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. But there was a crack in your voice. And you could see it in his eyes. He knew.

Scrambling to sit up right on the couch, you shook your head ‘No’, keeping the book tight in your clutches. Over your dead body would it fall into his hands.

“If there is nothing to see, why are you keeping it from me?” He tried to reason with you, stretching out a hand towards the book that you kept clutched in front of your chest, your arms wrapped around it like it was the most precious treasure you had ever possessed.

Namjoon was not one to accept a ‘No’, you knew that. You could spot the determined look in his eyes already. There was nothing that would keep him from finding out. And that had you scared like hell.

You could only stare at him, not having an answer for his very true and logical question. He would always catch you with his well thought-out reasoning. It made you want to tear your hair out every time. Right now, though, you were paralysed by fear.

“Well, you leave me no choice,” he approached you slowly, trying to read you, trying to calculate which escape route you would take. Because whatever stood in that book, had you all jittery and he had to know why. Though he knew that you would never show him voluntarily.

Panic, your brain screamed. And your body scrambled up from the couch, trying to get away from Namjoon. You still clutched the book in front of your chest with both hands.

“No, no, no!” he lunged forward, reaching for you. “You’re not getting away!” He got your left foot before you could escape safely from the couch. Your body fell back onto the cushions, knocking the breath out of your lungs. But you didn’t let go of the book, no matter the pain it would cost.

In his haste to prevent your escape, he knocked down a few wooden reindeers and snowmen from the coffee table. Luckily, there was no glass there. You had told him right in the store that you would not be buying any glass decorations if he would be around. With his clumsiness, he would knock them down within mere seconds. Hell, he had almost dropped something right then and there in the shop. But you both had other things to worry about right now than your Christmas decorations.

“Namjoon,” you shout out anxiously. “Let go of me!” But his grip on you didn’t ease up.

“Not before you show me the freaking book, Y/N!” And he kept his word, his hands desperately trying to seize the book from your tight grip. But you wouldn’t give up so easily. You once more tried to get away from him, grasping for the armrest and pulling like your life depended on it. But he was just too strong, with one hand grabbling for the book and the other holding down your legs.

While fighting him off, you didn’t notice how he’d crawled up your body, getting in nearer reach of the book. And suddenly he was way too close to your face, hovering above you in such an intimate way he never had before.

There had been moments of course. Where he had caged you in a little at your door, when he had leaned in too close, when he had pulled you into his warm embrace… But that had been something different.

Now he laid on top of you, covering your body with his. His chest heaved against yours as he tried to catch his breath from fighting with you. His grey-dyed hair fell in streaks into his eyes and once more his skin glowed in the warm fuzzy light of the fairy lights that framed his head. For a second, the both of you just... stopped.

He looked deeply into your eyes; his pupils overshadowed with an emotion you couldn’t grasp. Your heart beat even faster and your brain felt like it would explode any minute. Your senses were heightened, and you could feel his skin burning on yours. It was… ravishing. Your body couldn’t get enough of it already.

Suddenly, he snapped the book out of your hand, forcing an evil laughter out of his mouth and the moment was gone. He had shamelessly used your messed up state to his advantage and now the book was in his hands.

He scrambled back up from his position on top of you, quickly getting away from you and taking the book with him so you wouldn’t come up with the idea of snatching it back from him. Well, you had resigned already anyway. There was no way you could stop the inevitable from happening now. You said your last goodbye to your friendship. He took one last look at your dishevelled and defeated state before he plopped down on the armchair.

Thump, thump, thump. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears like the drums of that one Christmas song that they always played on the radio, and your stomach took a heavy leap. No, you couldn’t watch this. It was just too much to handle. You grabbed for the plush Santa Namjoon had gotten you as a joke last year, and hid your face in the red fabric of his cloak. You peeked out anxiously, watching Namjoon.

Pages rustled as Namjoon slowly opened the book. His heart beat just as fast as yours as he searched for the right page. Not because he was anxious, but because of his excitement as to what he would get to read on that page. And then he finally found it.

He was not surprised that it was about you. He had actually predicted that. Why else would you react that way if this didn’t reveal something about you? But the content had him gasping out in astonishment.

To actually believe it, he had to read it more than once. It beat all of his wildest dreams. Not only had you caught feelings for him, but he had of course caught feelings for you as well. And quite some time ago too. He had wanted to confess more than once but he hadn’t had the guts. He was very afraid of losing you as well so this came as a very pleasant surprise to him.

Unable to help it, he read the passage once more and let his gaze on the image of you linger a little longer, feeling arousal crawl up his body. He had caught you staring at him here and there, when going for a swim in the summer or when he read a book, when you didn’t think he would notice. He had never given much thought to it though. He would have never guessed that you had thought about him, dreamed about him.

He needed a few to gather himself, to brace himself for what was to come. He couldn’t let this slide just like that now that he knew that you felt the same for him. Now that he knew what you were craving. And he wanted to give you exactly that. All night if you wanted to. He wanted to give you the pleasure that you deserved, see you writhing underneath his fingers, calling out his name so that everyone could hear what he did to you.

A mischievous grin passed over his face. He would take care of that wish of yours, as a Christmas gift. That he promised to himself and gathered all of his confidence for. His heartbeat was going through the roof but he didn’t want you to know, and tried to keep a calm face.

You peeked out once more as he closed the book. You tried to read his face, but there was nothing to work with. Had your friendship been ruined already? Would he just leave and never say a word to you ever again? You expected the worst, already feeling tears prick in your eyes.

Namjoon slowly got up from the armchair and now you were sure he would leave the apartment. You felt embarrassment, shame, and regret overwhelm you. But there was something in you that fought back. Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t just let him go like this. “Namjoon, I-“

But he cut you off mid-sentence. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He shook his head, putting the book down on the table and shoved it over towards you. Your gaze fell back to the image of you, a moaning mess in the bed. You couldn’t handle looking at it and instead gazed up at Namjoon and being met with an expression that you hadn’t expected at all.

He looked like a boy who had gotten the biggest present for Christmas, but there was also something a lot less innocent in his eyes. Holding your gaze, he came back over to the couch and crouched in front of you.

“You’ve been –“ He swallowed visibly, nervousness getting the best of him for a second, before he proceeded with confidence “–a very naughty girl, Y/N, haven’t you?” He cocked an eyebrow while putting both of his hands next to your legs that rested on the edge of the couch.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Never had you imagined that Namjoon would speak like this to you. You could not say much, your throat going dry, and just slowly nodded your head.

“Hmm, thought so,” he answered while letting his gaze wander over your form. “Well, what do we do about that? Naughty girls need to be punished, right?” His eyes drifted back to your face, satisfied he took notice of the effect he had on you. How your legs unconsciously rubbed together at his every movement.

With the heat rising from you, he felt drawn to you.

“But I think you’ve been pretty nice this year. I think we leave the punishment for another day and instead–“ He nodded towards the book, referring to the description of your dream under the picture. “– keep working on this.” He turned back towards you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

His words were music in your ears. This was more than you could wish for. You pinched yourself for a second, making sure it wasn’t another dream of yours, that you hadn’t just fallen asleep again in your bed. But it was as real as it could get. Arousal is already pooling in your panties, Namjoon’s deep voice resounding in your head.

By now, he was drawing small, soft circles on the skin of your thigh, patiently waiting for your answer. He wouldn’t do anything about it as long as you hadn’t given your consent. There was still a little voice inside of him that wasn’t sure if you really felt the same. He had no time to think too much about it though.

You cleared your throat, the effect he had on you clear as day. “I’d… love that.” You shyly answered, carefully putting a hand on Namjoon’s cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of the gentle action.

He pushed himself up a little, his face hovering in front of yours. You held your breath, excited for what was to come. He was even closer than before. You could feel puffs of his hot breath gently caressing your lips. His eyes kept yours caged, his pupils blown looking like black holes that swallowed you to take you to another dimension.

With his hand moving up to the side of your neck, it gingerly brushed against the skin and he left it at the nape of your neck. His face inched closer, barely any space left between your lips now. Your thumb grazed over his cheek, the skin underneath warm and tender. You could stay like this forever.

“May… may I kiss you?” Namjoon asked, gaze drifting between your shining eyes and your tempting lips. You took his breath away, making him weak in the knees. Why hadn’t he confessed to you sooner? He could have had it all already. You had both missed out on so much. But there was still so much time to make up for it all.

It took all of your willpower to not kiss him right then and there, but to answer his question first. You looked deep into his eyes, “Yes, I beg you to.”

And that was all that was needed for Namjoon to desperately press his lips against yours without hesitating for even a second. Both of you closed your eyes, relishing in the moment of the first kiss shared between the two of you. It was not at all how you had expected it to feel but so much more. Your heart took a leap at his soft lips that moved so lovingly against yours while his thumb stroked your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Namjoon had to take a break to catch his breath, soft laughter escaping his lips. His hand remained at the back of your neck and so did yours on his cheek. But this break didn’t last long because both of you were already hungry for more. Your other hand went into his hair while your mouth landed back on his.

Tugging a little at the strands, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, his lips opening to the kiss. His tongue darted out, tapping against your lower lip and begging for entrance. You let him stew a little until both of your tongues met in a heated battle.

Slowly, Namjoon could feel himself getting hard. Your sweet lips got the best of him and he couldn’t do anything against it when his mind imagined them wrapped around his cock. He could feel it twitch in his pyjama pants, begging for attention. But Namjoon wanted for you to cum first. The outlook of getting to taste you with his tongue between your folds was too promising.

In fact, he didn’t want to wait any longer. As much as he enjoyed making out with you, he wanted to dig into the real fun. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead softly against yours. This time you had to catch your breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Namjoon whispered softly, asking for your permission to go on.

You pecked his lips adoringly. “I mean I’ve been dreaming about it.” Both of you chuckled lightly, caressing each other’s skin. “I couldn’t wish for more this Christmas.” You had to stifle a laugh. This was the most interesting Christmas you had ever had. And you loved it.

Namjoon made his way over to your ear with featherlight kisses to nibble on your earlobe before he hushed into your ear, making you shiver at the nickname he used for you, “I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, baby girl.”

“I will,” you breathed back, enjoying the shivers that ran down your spine as Namjoon’s breath tickled your skin. You buzzed with excitement, awaiting his treatment.

“Okay, baby girl,” he moved down from your ear to your neck, nipping at the skin and grazing his teeth over your shoulder a little. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

While your breathing got heavier at these few words already, he gently pushed your thighs apart with his hands, his upper body moving in the space in between to have better access to your neck. His hands wandered over your inner thighs, setting your skin on fire and your blood boiling.

Another quiet moan escaped your mouth. It all felt just too heavenly. And it made Namjoon proud to know he was making you feel good. You deserved it and he was ready to give it to you for the rest of your life if it meant he would hear your sweet little moans.

As he nibbled lightly on your neck, his hands crawled up your shirt, pushing it up over your chest. His mouth unlatched to attach itself again to one of your nipples immediately, drawing sloppy circles around it. While one of his hands held up the shirt, the other sweetly caressed your other breast, brushing against the sensitive bud and making it stand up, aroused.

Throwing your head back, you pushed your upper body into Namjoon’s face. The treatment he blessed you with was paradisiac. If it was up to you, he could do that for the rest of eternity. Still, there was one place where you needed him a lot more…

“Joonie.” His nickname left your lips in a faint, breathless hush. He let out a breathy moan against your nipple. God, now his mind would forever replay this moment and your needy plea whenever someone would call him by this nickname. You were his rise and his fall.

He pecked your nipple one last time before looking up from in between your breasts with hooded eyes. “Yes, baby girl?”

“I need you,” you breathed out, hands still playing with his soft hair.

He cocked his head, one of his eyebrows rising. “Need me how?”

You let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He knew exactly how, teasing you in a vulnerable moment. With your cheeks heating up, you looked away for a second. This was still very unchartered territory to you.

Feeling one of his hands back on your cheek, he tilted your head to look at him. Eyes full of genuity, he softly told you, “You don’t need to be ashamed when you’re with me. You can freely tell me what you want because I want to make you feel good.” He took your hand and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, softly muttering against your skin, “I want you to feel safe with me.”

It was easy to tell he was being serious and honest. How did you deserve this man? You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to him, feeling more at ease now. And it gave you the confidence to state your desire.

“Joonie… I need your mouth on me and your tongue in me, please,” you begged as you didn’t break off the eye contact. His eyes lit up at your words and he nodded eagerly, pressing one more kiss on your knuckles before he let your hand go.

“If you need something to hold onto, my hair is as good as anything else,” Namjoon told you, winking at you saucily before levelling his head with your clothed core. You held in a breath as he put a featherlight kiss to your inner thigh before nipping on the smooth skin.

His hands wandered over your lower legs towards your waist where they played with the hem of your pyjama shorts, ghosting over your skin. He could smell your wetness and it drove him crazy. He was just as riled up as you were.

He looked up from between your legs, giving you a very similar view as your dream had. You still couldn’t believe that this was all actually happening.

“Baby girl? Could you do me a favor?” His hands slipped back under your shirt for a second, drawing soft circles on your lower back.

You nodded eagerly, willing to do anything as long as he’d continue his exploration down your pants.

“Could you lift your hips for me a little?” He nodded towards your hips. “We need to get these out of the way.”

You obeyed his request, leaning back while lifting up your hips from the couch. All you wanted was his mouth on you.

Namjoon sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the view he was about to get. He had dreamed of that moment many, many times. In the shower when the thoughts of you got over his head, in bed when he had had another vivid dream of you in his arms.

He gently pulled down both your pyjama shorts and your panties, dragging them slowly over your legs to fully enjoy this moment. The clothing items in question hit one of the snowmen in the face as Namjoon carelessly threw them over his shoulder.

You felt the cold air hit your sensitive skin, dragging in a breath as it came in contact with the rough material of the couch. You needed release desperately right now, even little things like these throwing you off. You sank back into the couch a little.

Heartbeat strumming in his ears, Namjoon’s gaze wandered between your legs, laying eyes on your glistening folds for the first time. It was a sight to behold, at least for him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, dragging one hand through his hair while lowering back down between your legs.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered while pushing his arms under your legs and pulling them up on his shoulders so he could get better access. You relaxed your upper body on the backrest while shifting your hips up to the edge of the couch so that not only you were comfortable, but it would also be easier for Namjoon.

He gave you one last smile before pressing his head between your legs, his hair pleasantly tickling the inner skin of your thighs. You could feel hot puffs of breath hitting your sensitive folds, making you shiver around him. He hummed lightly, pleased at your reaction.

With his hands gently holding down your thighs, he pressed soft kisses around your pussy, nipping at the skin here and there and biting down softly. He closed his eyes, savoring the last moment before he would get to taste you.

With one hand holding you up, you entangled the other back into his hair, threading through the strands. Your soft gasps filled the air, encouraging Namjoon on.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, dropping a sloppy kiss onto your pussy. Tongue darting out between his lips, he took a long lick along your glistening folds. You tasted so good, he was glad that you would be the first meal of his day besides the coffee.

A strangled moan reached his hair and he opened his eyes to watch you throw your head back in pleasure. You looked like a goddess in the dim light of the morning and the fairy lights, the sinful image burned into his mind forever.

One of his hands reached around your leg to spread your folds for him, your clit coming into view. He latched his mouth onto it, sucking it in like a starved man.

Waves of pleasure rolled over you, feet pressing down on Namjoon’s back. If he kept this up, you would be falling apart in mere minutes. Your hands tugged on his hair, urging him to continue his treatment of your pussy. “Don’t stop,” you breathed out.

He replaced his lips with his thumb, caressing your bundle of nerves while his mouth moved further down. His tongue hungrily lapped at your walls, desperate to catch every taste it could get.

Your hips moved on your own as they pressed themselves against his face willingly, desperate for a release. You could feel your orgasm slowly approaching as Namjoon worked his magic on you.

As his tongue found your entrance, he slowly pushed it inside, before swirling it around a little. You gasped for air as you could feel it massaging your walls, back arching up from the couch. After letting you adjust to the feeling of his tongue inside you, he started darting it in and out at a rapid pace, thumb still fumbling your clit.

His nickname fell from your lips like a waterfall, wonderful music to his ears. You begged him not to stop, promises of you being close spurred him on, going down on you even faster. He could feel his rock-hard cock straining against his pyjama pants, begging to be released. But it was not yet the time.

He needed you to cum all over his tongue first and, hell, he would make sure of that. Feeling your walls contracting around his tongue, he put a little more pressure on your clit, circling and rubbing it gently with his fingers, trying to take you over the edge. You were almost there, he could feel it.

“Joonie, fuck, I am-” The sentence got lost between a heavy mess of moans and whimpers as you finally came with one last stroke around Namjoon’s tongue. You closed your eyes, orgasm blazing through your body in pleasurable waves.

Namjoon lapped up everything he could get, guiding you through your orgasm. As the moans and the whimpers lessened, his mouth, albeit grudgingly, detached from your folds, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before he looked up about you through his lashes.

As you looked down, you were met with a very vivid image of your last night’s dream as Namjoon’s skin glowed from your juices that were smeared all around his mouth. His hair had fallen into his eyes, not able to hide the playful glint in his eyes. His cheeks were a flushed red, chest heaving for air.

“That was… amazing,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek, thumb caressing the hot skin. You leaned over him, stealing a kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. “Thank you.”

Namjoon chuckled lightly, taking pride in making you feel so good. He nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your delicate scent. “I think we both actually have someone else to thank.” Both of your gazes fell onto the book that still laid open on the coffee table.

You grinned from ear to ear at his words. “Well, thank you, Santa, I guess then? For helping us idiots?” Both of you couldn’t hold in your laughter at the situation. What a naughty Christmas it had been for sure!

Quietness settled over the two of you for a minute as you enjoyed each other’s company. As Namjoon slowly got up from his kneeling position, you noticed his hard manhood through his pants. Licking your lips, you felt yourself getting wet again. Your hunger for Namjoon had only just awakened.

“How about… a shower?” you proposed, cocking a head at Namjoon. “I think it’s time I’ll take care of you.” Pushing yourself up from the couch, you let your hands roam freely over his upper body.

Namjoon snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you against him. “As if I could say no to that.” You could feel his cock through the soft fabric of his pants pressing against your thigh. Namjoon leaned down, his lips against your ear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered as he softly started kissing you again under the shining lights of the fairy lights and a mistletoe magically grew down from the ceiling. Santa has his way in fulfilling wishes…

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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bbwoulfc · 3 years

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This is a post about fandom salt pertaining to Adrien/CN and things that have occurred in S4. If you haven’t seen anything from S4 and are trying to avoid hints or anything that might spoil your experience with S4, please continue to scroll past this and do not read.

To all the fans that are complaining about Adrien/CN being pushed aside, feeling he should have been the first to learn Marinette’s secret identity, and so on.

First off, you are blind. If you couldn’t figure out that Alya would be one of Marinette’s confidents, if not the first to learn her secret identity, you are blind. It has been given since S1. It’s plain as day. And like a fellow fan mentioned on Twitter the other day, there are plenty of fics where Alya becomes Marinette’s main confident and support system in learning her identity first. So what makes this different?

Second, I’m going to make this as plainly stated as possible. MARINETTE DOESN’T OWE ADRIEN/CN ANYTHING.

To all those getting upset that Alya is becoming her confident and so on, who gives a crap. In all honesty, I’m so thankful that Chat isn’t the first to learn her secrets.

Adrien/CN might be Marinette/LB’s partner, but that doesn’t grant him first dibs in everything. He is her partner (regardless that they’re friends) and that’s it. Marinette has her reasons why she doesn’t want to know Chat’s identity and so on and that should be enough of an explanation.

EVERYTHING doesn’t have to revolve around Adrien/CN. It doesn’t matter that he’s part of the main character and main reason for the plot. Marinette doesn’t owe him anything.

Chat Noir isn’t Marinette’s only support system. For once, let Marinette rely on others that she considers part of her support system. It’s Marinette’s choice and right to choose when and who deserve to earn her secrets. It is not Adrien/CN’s right to know everything first.

It is for these reasons and how Adrien stans act that have ruined my enjoyment for his character. Especially towards a romantic interest in the LS. For once I am so glad that Chat Noir is being pushed aside a bit so we can see Marinette trying to reach out in a way she believes is best but by her OWN CHOICE.

If you can’t handle Adrien/CN not getting the attention when he is literally always there to begin with, then you ain’t a proper Adrien/CN fan. You’re just angry cause your little cat child isn’t the center of attention when the whole damn plot is centered around him.

I might hate Adrien as a romantic love interest, but I will not tolerate people who complain that Adrien isn’t being treated fairly when in fact he is being treated fine.

Let Marinette reach out to other friends and seek support from others in general. Let her not revolve her life around Adrien and Chat Noir. It might be a ridiculous reason why they are “meant to be” and endgame, but until that moment comes, Adrien/CN isn’t owed anything. Take a chill pill and enjoy the ride. When the time is right, Adrien/CN will earn the right to learn her secrets.

#fandom salt #ml s4 spoiler #ml s4 spoilers #just in case i will put adrien salt #adrien salt #salt #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir

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sztefa001 · 3 years

Note

Question about your transformers OCs, if they could get a pet. What would it be? (Also hi Sztefa!)

HI ALPS THANK FOR THE ASK! >w< <3

Okay so

Here comes the promised wall of text that took me 4 evenings to write:

Bit of summary: camera drones for Taf and Breeze (that's canon), kitty for Mini, and probably therapy dogs for all the rest xD ;w; Also I feel like a lot of that's gonna become canon. Including Morph getting a [read! not gonna spoil that one!]

Also there's a doodle at the end! :3c

Seekers Taffy and Breeze:

The pastel babs who lived away from the war in relative luxury had a bunch of cyber pets transforming into camera drones and that's canon. They're all actually one and the same pet 'cuz hive mind. Not an Earth-based pets as, well, back then they weren't on Earth nor they knew of it's existance. But you know those funny miniature goats? That's how the drone pets behave. So yeah, babies. All of them. While in drone mode they record all the best shots of the pastel babs so that the pretty seekers can select, edit, cut out gifs, pics, make videos, etc. Yep, they're influencers and celebrities. Lord Master makes big money out his two pretty properties. After breaking out and escaping they manage so save one of them and it later lives with them. Once they have a chance they most likely buy one or two more and copy that one's personality so that it has company (it feels better while in more bodies). Happy bunch once again, yay!

Seeker Renfrew:

Battered by war Breeze's long lost trinemate, some time later sparkbonds with Taffy as well. Enjoys the presence of the funny little camera drone (makes him smile!) but what he needs most is probably a therapy trained dog. Maybe Terry helps him get a specially trained cyber dog? Ren ofc appreciates Earth creatures as well, is happy when they're not scared of him.

Flying Minibot MiniMint

Being raised on Earth she's used to Earth creatures. It saddens her that they live for such a short time but it doesn't stop her from making friends with them. Is friends with local cats, dogs, birds, etc. Most likely there was/is a cat or two in her life but it's not like she's actively adopting them. If one likes her and decides to stay - "Welp, guess I have a cat now :D" Also during one of her adventures on another planet she makes friends with big horse-like creatures (or maybe just cyber horses, idk). Imagine tiny bot the size of a human riding on a wild giant robo-horse leading the whole herd. Wow.

"The Big Guy / Widower / Old Man / Ex Mafia Boss"

This guy is a side character and doesn't have a name yet, created for the sole purpose of hitting Alpine's oc Holly with major angst and drama. His story may change but what stays is that the love of his life suddenly dies and he doesn't take it well ("time to murder everyone and then myself"). But eventually he calms down and adopts a cyber dog. Big borzoi looking bab who was too nice to become an attack beast. Not therapy-trained but really good at at her job. Knows when to quietly hug or when to throw a husky-like tantrum. 10/10 best girl and she's canon.

BM-21 Grad TerrorRain

The war may be over but this hotheaded multiple rocket launcher still has no chill. Would like an attack beast, loyal and obedient. Gets a cyber doberman or sth like that to give it a military training. All goes well untill the dog is ordered to attack someone that's not a training doll. It loves destruction, sure. But when ordered to hurt another living being it will curl up apologetically and start whining. At first Terry is angry and frustrated but soon learns that there's really no need to be so violent anymore.

Monoformer Morphine

Dead inside and worn out by the war medic who may or may not be a bit addicted to sleeping pills. He doesn't really care much about anything. Would never adopt a pet on his own - that's effort and responsibility and he has already barely any energy to function. Once Terry gets a cyber dog he doesn't pay much attention to it except for being basic decent (giving head pats when doggo wants, maybe sneaking a treat or just letting the dog get spoiled a bit when Terry's not looking). He doesn't expect much from the dog but turns out its a real good boi that knows exactly when Morph is just fatigued and when has a bigger crisis. Cuddles up to the poor medic or tries to get his attention to provide distraction. Often prevents Morph from taking more drugs than he should. This also teaches Terry how to differentiate between Morph's regular-depressed and gonna-drug-myself-to-pass-out-for-the-rest-of-the-night-crisis.

Also I can't get one image out of my head, said image being Morph feeling free while horse riding. I want him to have a cyber horse. Maybe later when they move out from the Old Mafia Boss they get to live somewhere where those are? That'd be cool. Mini would defo visit often. That's it, I'm defo gonna give Morph a horse, yolo.

Monoformer StrongSpark

Tiny, blind, heavily disabled bot that barely survived after forming (or rather deforming) in highly radioactive environment; survived only becausse Morphine refused to give up on him. So yeah, basically Morph's and Terry's kid (and later also Mini's bff). The 3 of them live at the Widower's place and his dog immediately starts taking care of the kid. Helps him calm down, protects him, notifies of upcoming attacks, etc. Terry's dog cares about Sparky as well (tho these two are out more often). Tiny bab with 2 big guardians. Nice. When the good grandpa (yes, the Old Mafia Boss adots them all) passes away the family inherits the dog and the good girl officially becomes Sparky's guardian 24/7.

IF YOU MADE IT TILL THE END (or just scorlled past the descriptions) HERE'S A DOODLE OF A CYBER MINI GOAT FOR YOU:

#I wanted to draw more but got distracted #so if I make more doodles I'll just put them in another post #long post #ask answered #sztefu talks #Alpine asks #I had so much fun with it omg #also gonna make the widower an official character #just gotta find him a name #and for his dog too #I like Terry's dog too so am gonna make him canon as well #needs a name way more badass for his personality 'cuz ofc Terry would name him like that #Terry Morph and Sparky living happily with two dogs and maybe even horses QAQ #LET THEM BE HAPPY #sztefu talks in tags #sztefu's ocs #sztefu draws #YEET

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suckerforsmylex · 3 years

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Little Red Riding Hood - Pt. 1

For my O.G. nonny who requested Lil’ Red, I’ve revamped it slightly and if you guys like this, I’ll bring back the remaining chapters and finish this one out. Enjoy and watch out for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 🐺💋

“Jackie, get the fuck in here!”

Nikolai was always an asshole, but he was in an especially shitty mood. He didn’t like waiting and I had made him wait with Jackie at the trap house for over an hour. I misplaced my car keys and had to toss my whole apartment for them before I left. I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic before I finally got there.

They thought I was backing out and were arguing loudly when I knocked on the door. First, there was silence as Nikolai checked me out through the peephole. Then, the sound of the deadbolts unlocking and the chain coming off the door. The door opened abruptly and I was greeted with a shiny, special edition glock to the temple and forced into the kitchen.

Nikolai yanked Jackie by her skinny ass arm and pushed her down into the chair next to me. “You have thirty minutes to learn how to swallow this shit and then get it all down, Red. I’m not fucking around. You don’t want to fuck this up.” He slammed down a bottle of vegetable oil, an industrial size box of condoms and about 100 packets of heroin stacked high on a plate.

“Nik, what the fuck! That wasn’t the agreement. I’m not swallowing that shit,” I yelled out and backed away from the table. “What the fuck do you mean that wasn’t part of the agreement?!” Nikolai was waving the glock around and sweating profusely. “She’s taking the shoes, babe. I toooold you Lana’s doing the balloons! You’re such a fucking tool.”

Jackie was in the middle of laughing when Nikolai backhanded her across the face. Her lip was bleeding, but she just sniffled and wiped at the blood with her sleeve. She was still laughing a little. I couldn’t stop looking at her track marks.

“Fuck…right…um…come here, Red I don’t have all day here,” Nikolai said impatiently as he walked over to the closet. He pulled out a pair of black, Gucci wedges. “There’s 50 packets worth of H inside of each shoe. Well, not so much inside as they’re part of the fuckin’ fabric. My guys liquefy it and shit.” Nikolai stepped back smiling. He was proud of himself. The shoe method of drug running had worked everytime.

“So don’t be fucking around with these shoes on, they’re delicate. Take the plane into Gotham International then go to down to the East River Pier. Falcone will send a guy to come and pick you up at the airport and take you to the yacht and that’s where you make the drop. I’m giving you $2K up front and you get the other $7K when you finish the deal.”

I pulled off my Prada flats, put on the wedges and shoved the money Nikolai gave me into my tote. “$10K, Nikolai. They’re supposed to give me $10K altogether. So maybe you’re supposed to give me $3K?” I stood there with my hand out. Nik rolled his eyes and peeled off another $500 and shoved it into my hand. “Tough shit. That hour you made me wait cost $500, bitch.”

“Fuck Nik, I need that money!” I screamed out. I needed that money badly. I was a high-end shopping addict with a penchant for prescription pills and liquor. I owed money to a grimy loan shark and was late by three weeks on the vig. I was holding him off with heady flirtatiousness but he was becoming increasingly inpatient. He threatened to slice my face with a razor the last time I walked out of my apartment.

“Take the shoes and get to the fucking airport Red.”

——-

I waited on the packed TSA line behind a mom and her two kids and prayed for no drug sniffing dogs. I had my docs ready and handed them over to the TSA officer. “Scarlett Agnelli.” He said my name like he was reading a weird recipe he googled on the internet. It was strange hearing my government name. Everyone I knew called me Red. He looked me up and down. I smiled a toothy grin and he gave me a wink. “Have a nice flight, beautiful. Take care of yourself.” I never have any trouble with men. At least at first. They all pretty much high tail it when they discover I’m a lunatic.

I waltzed my way through TSA without ringing any alarm bells and even had time to visit the M.A.C. store before boarding the plane. At least Nikolai sprung for first class this time. I ordered a glass of white wine, swiped on a bit of red lipstick, spritzed myself with perfume and threw on my red cape. It always got cold on the plane and I wanted to snuggle up for a nap.

I woke up and we were throttling into Gotham International. The snow was starting to fall over Gotham making it look like the inside of a snow globe. I turned on my phone and sent out a text to Nikolai to let him know I landed. I freshened up with a little Evian spray and combed out my long brown locks. I grabbed my carry-on and set out to meet whatever goon was sent to get me.

I stood outside on the arrivals platform looking around. Gotham was beautiful at night and even though it was cold, I didn’t mind waiting. I pulled the hood of the cape over my head so my hair wouldn’t get damp with snow. Pretty soon I’d be collecting my money and be snuggled up at whatever boutique hotel they put me up at. I was already thinking about the mini-bar and room service.

A low voice woke me up from my thoughts. “Hey there, little red riding hood. I’ve been waiting for a sweet thing like you all night.” I looked up to see a very pale man with slicked back green hair and cool blue eyes. I gave him a once over. He was dressed in a white button down shirt and black trousers. His shoes were expensive as was his watch. His extended hand was covered in gold rings. His look was a little strange, but I decided he was suitable to drive me.

Falcone must have sent one of his made men. I guess he stepped up his game because of the amount of H in these shoes.

I shoved my carry on toward him. “Is this going to fit in there?” I motioned over to the purple Lamborghini by pointing at it with my mouth, my chin coming up slightly and my lips pursing. He started laughing uncontrollably. His laugh chilled me to my core but I couldn’t help but be curious. I decided then and there that I was up for a little adventure. He couldn’t touch me with all this H on me anyway.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He grabbed the bag from me and our fingers touched. I felt an immediate spark of heat. “Scarlett, but call me Red, everyone does.” He rolled his head to the side and snarled. “Red. I like that.” He drove like a maniac, peeling out, not stopping at traffic lights, blowing stop signs and generally being a nut case.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Hello? Precious cargo over here. Do I have to remind you that I’ve got the product on me? You’re attracting unwanted attention. Falcone is going to slice your balls off if we get pinched, sweetie.” This got his attention. “Falcone?” He asked in a soft purr. “Yes honey, your boss. What’s your name anyway?” He grinned a wide smile and I could see his metallic teeth.

Fuck. Falcone has some seriously scary people on the payroll. He’s pretty hot too but he’s about as sharp as a spoon.

“Call me, Mister J.” I took my phone out and started getting driving directions to the pier area. “Ok, Mister J. Where are we staying tonight? I need to rest so we can make this drop bright and early tomorrow at the pier. Listen, I’m looking for 5-star but I can do 4-star if Nikolai forgot to make the reservation.” He leaned towards me with a wink. “I know just the place, doll.” His eyes were undressing me. It was nothing that I hadn’t experienced before but this felt different. I found myself flushed and hot. “Can we roll the windows down in here?”

“Sure Red, anything for you.” J smiled and put his hand up to my cheek. The coolness against the warmth building there was explosive. We parked outside the hotel and I tried to get myself together. “Did you bring the other shoes for me?” I asked curiously. “Shoes?” J had opened the car door and was standing over me. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, allowing me to admire and the tattoos that peaked out from underneath. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

“Stay with me, kitten, you were saying something about shoes.” J grinned at me again and I had to look away to keep from melting. “Yeah, I can’t keep wearing these. I’m wearing the H you know?” He knelt down and started taking the shoes off of me. He slipped them into my tote bag and left my stocking covered feet shoeless.

“I’ll carry you.” J’s eyes were burning through me. I was slick between the legs and my breasts were swelling beneath my blouse. I was so enthralled by his gaze that I didn’t hear the texts buzzing in from Nikolai telling me that Falcone’s guy was at the airport and where the fuck was I because he was still looking for me.

#joker #leto joker #the joker #joker fanfiction #little red riding hood #mysterious #imposter #stockings #drugs #drug mule #wolf in sheep's clothing #revised

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dutten-does-the-fanfic · 4 years

Text

I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 13

Title: I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 13 of 14 (ch. 1) Pairing: Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim Word count: 14.350 Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, internalized homophobia, closeting, using alcohol as an unhealthy coping mechanism

AO3

Summary: The one where it’s been two years since Isak last saw or spoke with Even, and no one knows that Isak ever knew Even at all

Present

Nothing is magically solved after that.

Even spends five awful hours yelling on the phone – Isak can’t tell at who specifically, probably more than one person. He’s never heard Even sound this furious and it’s honestly a bit terrifying.

Isak had always been the one who’d been quick to yell and shout, bottling things up until everything spills out. Even had internalized everything, going quiet and letting the hurt fester.

Maybe the turning point had been receiving shady divorce papers already signed and then being completely ghosted except for one phone call where he’d been told to come pick his shit up or it would get thrown out. Not that Isak had thrown anything out. He’d saved the stuff he wasn’t able to part with and then left everything else behind for Even or his team to take care of.

Once the phone call is over with, Even hides himself away in Isak’s room and doesn’t come out for two hours, all of which Isak spends pacing between the hallway, the kitchen, and Jonas’ room, debating whether or not he should go in and check on him.

He wouldn’t have hesitated before, he knows, but things aren’t exactly the same as before. They’re different, because they’re supposed to be. ‘Different’ is going to be ‘better’.

When Even comes back out, he’s hesitant about it, looking at Isak with big, vulnerable eyes. The apologies are falling out of his mouth before Isak’s finished taking the first step towards him.

A lot is learned from that phone call.

The NDA is technically rendered invalid – even if there hadn’t been so many shady legal issues with its existence in the first place, any signature of Isak’s was void the second the information became public knowledge.

The divorce never got finalized – Isak hadn’t doubted that Even hadn’t signed the papers, but at this point he’s far beyond taking things at face value and believing that goddamn legal team couldn’t have wormed their way into getting things to be how they wanted them to be.

Knowing he’s still married doesn’t come as big of a shock as it did when Even had told him, but it still feels like a punch to the stomach, makes him feel hollow and full at the same time and so off kilter he has to sit down.

Even looks at him with worried eyes, so Isak lets him run his fingers through his hair until he doesn’t feel as off-centered.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to be married, doesn’t want to be married with Even, it’s just that he’s spent literal years thinking he wasn’t, and knowing he is takes a bit more adjustment that Isak had thought it would’ve.

Even’s new management team – new in brackets, because apparently the team from hell hasn’t represented him since his second short film had come out – wants him to do interviews, wants for him to be out there, riding the free publicity wave to the fullest, but Even refuses.

It freaks the both of them out, though, reminding them that this is so much bigger than the two of them. It makes Isak question any future that they could have, because Even is a public figure, he’s a world-famous director, and Isak is a university student, hasn’t even gotten his BA yet.

Which is how they end up having their first massive row since that day in the kitchen when everything had blown up and finally come to light.

“What are you supposed to do, show up on the red carpet with me on your arm?”

“What’s wrong with having you on my arm?”

They’re not mad at each other, that’s not what it’s about. It’s years upon years of deeply layered insecurities and being terrified.

Even had ended up doing a series of tweets in the middle of the night when he hadn’t been able to fall asleep because of the nerves. His hands had been shaking, and he’d done typo after typo until his fancy phone had almost given up. Then he’d shut his phone off entirely and had kept his focus on Isak so he wouldn’t be tempted to check what people were saying about him, about them.

Isak can’t remember if they slept that night, in the end so exhausted their bodies had just given up, but he does remember the feeling of lying with Even, so close to him, and doing nothing but enjoying being with each other. It wasn’t exactly like they’d never done this before, but it had been freeing in a sense, the threatening knowing that they had to keep quiet, keep to the shadows, gone.

Then there are the things that you can’t learn from a phone call.

Magnus – for all of his support and kindheartedness – had been the first one to break and ask if they’re done being Debbie Downers yet so he can invite Vilde over.

Isak is left so flabbergasted he doesn’t even get a good one in about Magnus and Vilde apparently being an actual thing now.

Coming out is easier when you’re technically already out.

Telling people isn’t as difficult as Isak had always feared. The words, “This is Even, he’s my husband,” sound weird coming out of his mouth, and most time he only manages to get out “This is Even,” before he clamps shut.

Still, Even meets Eskild and Linn and he meets the girls – Sana he apparently already knows. It kind of blows Isak’s mind that Sana is Elias’ sister, that they’re siblings, that Isak has been so close to the people who mattered to Even and hadn’t even realized it.

In turn, Isak meets Even’s boys, feeling awkward as hell. Mikael he’s already met, but he hasn’t exactly made the best impression on him by first running away and then being the stranger that Even had married and who was now taking care of him after not speaking to each other for two years. It’s weird with all of them, though, because Isak feels like he’s technically known all of them since he was fifteen with how vividly Even would describe everything.

It goes well, though, for both of them. Eskild is clearly still a little hurt, but he’s putting his best foot forward without being forced to by Isak’s begging looks. Eva’s great at being welcoming, but she always was. Yousef is a little stilted with Isak, but Elias has apparently appointed himself to be the tension-diffuser which means telling stories about dumb shit that the group used to get up to. Isak doesn’t tell him that he already knows the stories, that’s not the point.

Sana shows up with an armful of notebooks, giving him a look that isn’t nearly as chilling as it would’ve been when they’d first been forced into each other’s orbits. He grins at her, tells her “thank you, Sanasol,” which makes Sana roll her eyes, but she’s smiling as well.

She doesn’t comment on how this was why Isak had been so wrong, why he’d taken to hiding away from the world, sometimes using her as a means for it. She also doesn’t say anything about his breakdown in the empty classroom. She really is a great best bud, Isak had been right about that.

Isak is lucky. He knows that. He knows a lot of people don’t get to have this positive a response from the people they’re closest to. But then there’s also the fact that it isn’t only the people in Isak’s life that he’s come out to, that it’s everyone in the world who knows and who feels entitled to express their opinions on it.

There are a lot of opinions on it.

Isak makes it a point not to look himself or Even up, but his restraint hasn’t improved in the past two years where he’s been making himself that promise anyway and is yet to manage keeping it.

He can’t remember ever having been called this many names, not even when Elias and his friends had been ganging up on him for most of his time in school. It puts him in a weird mood, a real funk that he can’t seem to shake himself out of.

The boys try to help, but they don’t understand. Isak isn’t sure he understands it, either.

It’s not until he one morning wakes up alone, panicked because what if, what if, what if and stumbling out of bed to check if Even’s gone, that he manages to shake himself out of his rut.

Because he finds Even in the kitchen, bathed in the early morning sunlight, wearing the Jesus t-shirt that Isak probably should’ve given up on years ago, bare footed, and wielding a spatula, scrambling up some eggs and toasting two slices of bread.

He smiles when he sees Isak, albeit a bit concerned at the state of him, and he welcomes him with open arms when Isak treads closer, holding him tightly and shielding him from the heat of the stove as he continues to mix the eggs.

It doesn’t matter, Isak realizes. It doesn’t matter one single bit what everyone online or in real life is saying about him or about Even or about him and Even. As long as he gets to have this, this is what matters.

Even leaves for a week to live with Mikael. Not that they really suspect the forced proximity of basically living together is doing anything good or bad to them, it’s just a precaution. They haven’t even been together in ages, but Isak is still surprised with how much he’d gotten used to Even just always being there.

That week is awful, and the time Even isn’t over at Isak’s anyway is spent texting Even the most inane, random things just because Isak’s heart can’t handle the risk of losing Even again.

They should probably do something to stop it from developing into a codependency that would be really unhealthy for the both of them, but for now they’re both a bit extra clingy, nerves frazzled from finding out that the past two years of their lives have practically been one big lie that could’ve prevented months upon months of heartbreak. It’s not an easy pill to swallow.

It’s still a necessity learning how they fit together again. Isak still remembers how Even takes his coffee and tea and what he likes for breakfast when he’s happy or when he’s stressed, but now there are new things about Even that Isak doesn’t know – like what he’ll insist on throwing into the grocery cart, although Isak’s certain most of it is simply to make Isak laugh.

Isak draws the line at the line of spices Even insists are a necessity to have in one’s spice rack. Isak tells him that he refuses to believe him until he’s able to pronounce Pottagaldrar correctly. Even spends the next minute pronouncing everything just a smidge wrong, and then laughs so hard he has to sit down in the middle of the isle when Isak sing-songs Kardemomme.

Isak is slow at taking off his jacket. He can hear Even in the kitchen, putting away the groceries and rearranging the fridge to his liking, and Isak has missed this.

He had spent so long missing Even that he’d forgotten about all these little things that made up their life together; the grocery shopping and Even putting it away, and Isak picking up after them and doing the laundry, and he has missed this domesticity that they so easily fall into every single time.

The fridge door closes and Even comes out to see why Isak is still loitering in the hall, his jacket hanging limply in one hand.

“Did you fall asleep out here?” Even laughs, then comes closer to grab Isak’s jacket to hang it up on the coat rack.

Even’s leaning down over him when he reaches down for his jacket. He smells good, like clean soap and a scent that’s distinctively Even and a little bit like Isak because he’s wearing his shirt, and he’s all up in Isak’s space and Isak can’t not.

Even steps back once he’s gotten the jacket out of Isak’s limp hold. He’s still smiling and Isak knows he’s just waiting to tease Isak further. He can already see how Even turns to look at him instead of the coat rack.

He’s smiling, wide and with his teeth and so hard that it makes his eyes crinkle. Isak waits until Even’s looking at him to let his eyes wander down to Even’s mouth.

Even when he’s smiling like this, his bottom lip looks plump and Isak really, really wants to kiss him. They haven’t kissed once this entire time, and Isak lets himself have his fill of looking, of following the curve of his cupid’s lip right up to the corner of his mouth that comes closer and closer the more Even stops smiling.

Isak briefly looks up to look at Even’s eyes to see if something’s wrong.

Even looks… so taken aback, but not uncomfortable in the slightest. He misses the knob on the coat rack so Isak’s jacket falls to the ground. Even doesn’t even move to look at it, doesn’t do anything that means he’ll have to look away from Isak.

He swallows, and Isak trails the movement in his throat as well, briefly stopping at his lips when he goes back to look at Even’s eyes again.

Isak licks his lips once, just a peek of his tongue against his bottom lip, but that’s all it takes for Even to take two massive steps and then he’s in Isak’s space.

He pushes him up against the wall harshly enough that Isak loses his breath, and then Even’s lips are on his and Isak can’t keep in his muffled moan at the feeling.

It’s frantic and a bit wet and messy. It feels like the floor is swimming underneath Isak’s feet and he has to touch Even, has to, so he grabs on to whatever bit he first touches – his sides – and curls his hands along his ribs underneath his open hoodie, nails slightly digging into his back through his t-shirt.

Even makes a muffled groan that makes Isak’s blood rush downwards; something that isn’t lessened in the slightest when Even grabs on to his hair and clenches his hand into a fist until his hold is so secure he can move and direct Isak around however he likes.

Even is a warm force pressed up against him, and Isak can feel he’s already hard from where his crotch is pressed up against Isak’s hip. Isak is well on his own way there, if he isn’t there already. God, he can’t breathe, but he isn’t sure he actually wants to. He’s gasping into Even’s mouth at every opportunity and Even is doing the same, but neither of them move away to let the other breathe properly.

It’s so hot and a bit filthy and Isak should probably be worried that they’re doing this out in the hallway, but he literally doesn’t have any part of his brain left that isn’t fully enraptured by Even.

So he doesn’t stop to think until they hear the front door open up and whatever conversation that had been going on halters immediately.

Both Isak and Even tense up before Even draws back. He can’t get far with the way Isak is still holding on to him so desperately, but then again, Even’s hands are still in his hair so it’s not like Isak could take a single step back if he wanted to, had he not already been pressed against the wall.

Jonas is obviously trying to keep a cool, relaxed expression on his face, but Mahdi is grinning like an idiot. Magnus is too far back behind the two of them, but Isak’s willing to bet he’s gaping at them.

Jesus, this is the first time Isak and Even have even kissed in front of them, of course it had to be a heavy make-out session as well instead of an innocent peck before one of them is out the door.

Fuck.

Fuck, Isak can’t breathe and it feels startlingly horrible compared to just seconds before when he hadn’t been able to breathe because of Even.

“Well, well, well,” Jonas is grinning now. “Did you get the grocery shopping done?”

Even clears his throat. This conversation feels very misplaced considering Isak is still pressed up against the wall with Even pressed up against him and they’re in the middle of the hallway and none of them are moving. “It’s in the fridge.”

“Sweet,” Jonas nods. His eyes are soft when he looks at Isak and Isak doesn’t even dare think of how he looks – a bit debauched if anything and quite possibly like his friends are a firing squad here just for him.

Jonas nods again, but this time it doesn’t feel as much as an acknowledgment they’ve gotten the grocery shopping done, but more of a reassurance for Isak. Isak can almost hear Jonas’ thoughts shouting at him across the distance, you’re allowed to kiss your husband!

And Isak – Isak can’t help the grin slowly stretching out across his face, because, yes, he is allowed to kiss his husband. He shouldn’t feel like he’s not allowed, shouldn’t let anyone, whether they’re in his life or not, tell him he can’t kiss his husband. He’s so, so in love with Even, and if he wants to kiss him – and Even wants to kiss him – then he’s going to kiss him.

Jonas must see it on his face, because he’s properly grinning now as he nods one last time.

“Yeah,” Isak should probably clear his throat as well. Despite the interruption, he feels Even’s dick twitch against his hip at the slight raspy sound to his voice. “If that’s all then –“ he leans up on the tips of his toes to press his mouth right up against Even’s ear and whispers, “I’d really like for you to be inside me.”

Even makes a choked sound as his hands momentarily tighten in Isak’s hair. Isak pushes against his stomach until he stumbles back a step, his hands flail for a moment before Isak grabs one and starts tugging him in the direction of his bedroom.

“Alright-y,” Jonas says and reaches over Mahdi to grab onto the door handle. “We’ll just go and play some football, then, if you don’t mind.”

“Really don’t,” Isak calls back. God, he can’t stop smiling and Even is smiling right back at him.

“Wait, what’s Evak doing?” Magnus called out. “What are you do- what are they doing?”

Isak giggles as he drags Even into his room, the slam of his door shutting close keeping out whatever else Magnus might’ve been saying, and then Isak leans up and they’re kissing again.

It’s been literal years since Isak last kissed Even, and he’s fucking missed it. He’s missed Even’s body pressed up against his own, he’s missed the feeling of Even’s lips against his own, against him in general, and he’s missed Even.

It’s goddamn everything.

It’s rediscovering each other, which is a little bit of a weird feeling when Isak remembers just how much time they used to spend just making out. That probably makes it easier to pick it up right where they left off, though, because it doesn’t take long before Even’s kissing him long and deep, turning Isak pliant and needy.

Things don’t feel as terrifying when he’s kissing Even.

Having kissed Even in front of the boys doesn’t feel like the death sentence Isak had thought it would be. Having people know that he likes boys, that he likes – loves Even – doesn’t make his world fall apart.

Isak makes a soft noise when Even pulls back, immediately leaning back in, but Even’s grinning too widely to kiss Isak properly, the way he wants to be kissed. Isak frowns and opens his eyes, hoping a grumpy look will make Even pull himself together quicker.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Even whispers against his lips, immediately causing Isak’s cheeks to heat up.

He squirms a bit, but he doesn’t feel terrible, not in the way he’d thought he would’ve.

Isak tilts his head back, jaw set as he looks at Even determinedly. “Would you rather I’d have to be quiet?”

All of the air in Even’s lungs comes whooshing out. His fingers dig into Isak’s hips until he’s wriggling forward, trying to get closer or to get Even moving away from the door.

The bed. They should – things suddenly feel a lot more urgent, like it had when Even had dropped Isak’s jacket in favor of keeping his eyes on him.

Isak pushes at Even’s chest to get him moving, but Even is already dipping down to kiss Isak again, delaying Isak’s plans and thoughts for a few seconds before the heat gathering in his center is too insistent for Isak to forget about it.

“Even, Ev, come on – “ the words come out muffled when his lips are still moving against Even’s, but Even still manages to understand him.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, standing still when Isak tries to stumble forward, tries to get them closer to the bed that’s literally so close. “What you said? Did you mean it? Because we don’t – we don’t have to –“

And Even trying to be gallant, trying to let things go slowly when this is hardly the first time they’ve done anything – just the first time this time around – shouldn’t be this much of a turn on, but it is. Isak literally feels dizzy with it, completely breathless as he pulls back just so he can look Even in the eye when he tells him.

“I want it,” he says, then gets shy at the thought of having been too blunt.

Maybe Even had been trying to pause it because he didn’t want it, had changed his mind, had –

“Do – do you?” he asks quietly, suddenly unable to look past the corner of Even’s eye. Asking takes a lot, but that’s a thing they do now, asking. Talking. Because not doing so had been what had made everything so messed up for so long. “We don’t have to –“

Even cuts him off with his lips, which hurts a bit because their teeth end up knocking together and Even somehow manages to nick Isak’s bottom lip slightly with his canine.

“Of course I want to,” Even tells him, licking with the tip of his tongue where his tooth had caught Isak’s skin. “Silly, beautiful boy, of course I want to.”

Even the tips of Isak’s ears feel like they’re a flaming pink.

“Maybe you didn’t,” he counters, not sure why. The knot of anxiety in his heart isn’t easy to get rid of.

Even’s eyes are soft when Isak gets the courage to meet his eyes again. One hand cards through Isak’s hair gently.

“I do,” Even says, sending a hot surge of want through Isak when he remembers an entirely different time when Even had looked at him like that and had said those words to him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, I promise. Please don’t doubt that, don’t doubt –“ don’t doubt me, Isak knows Even wants to say but probably can’t bring himself to.

Isak not trusting Even and his feelings for Isak had been part of the mess after all. Some wounds need time to heal. Neither of them are entirely okay yet, but they will be. For once, Isak’s entirely certain of that.

“Okay,” Isak says, giving Even two short pecks before he tries to push him backwards towards the bed again. “Okay.”

Even’s malleable this time around, so it doesn’t take more than two seconds before the back of his knees knock against the bed and he sits down, grinning up at Isak.

Leaning down to kiss Even also feels like a novelty that it shouldn’t, because they’ve done this before, Isak keeps reminding himself.

Even must be able to sense the inner turmoil Isak’s tumbling around with in his thoughts, because he pulls back to check on Isak again.

But Isak does decidedly not want to be checked on, so Even doesn’t get further than opening his mouth before Isak falls forward at the same time as he’s pushing Even down so they both end up lying on the bed, facing each other.

“Faen,” Even laughs, hurrying to curl his hands around Isak’s waist again. “God, you startled me.”

Isak’s grinning, wants a little bit to tease Even and tell him, “good”, but he wants to kiss him more, so he does that instead.

Kissing is good. It’s so good. Isak never wants to stop. He twists onto his back so he can pull Even on top of him, improving the angle immensely. Feels Even tongue against the seam of his lips, pushing in just slightly before he pulls away again, breaking their lips apart.

Isak didn’t mean for the whine to come out, but Even hadn’t been there to muffle it, so it sounds a lot louder than Isak had thought it would’ve.

He feels Even’s breath huff lightly against his cheek when he presses his lips there instead of on Isak’s mouth, then feels his lips press against his jaw, and then down, down, down.

The giggle bubbles out of Isak’s mouth before he can stop it, and he squirms away from Even’s mouth, pressing his cheek against his shoulder reflexively.

Even pauses in confusion, but soon a way too satisfied grin splits across his face.

“What was that?”

Isak flushes and kicks out at Even weakly, his knee more so caressing his side than anything else. “Nothing, kiss me,” he tries to deflect, but Even leans back when Isak clenches his stomach to hold himself up.

“You turned into a little girl when I started to kiss you.”

“I wasn’t ready for neck-action!” Isak protests, his cheeks warm, but he’s laughing as well.

“’Neck-action’,” Even laughs, finally leaning down, but he kisses Isak right at the dip of the base of his throat. “If you’re not even ready for ‘neck-action’, then how will the ‘dick-action’ go down?”

“’Dick-action’,” Isak groans, hiding his face behind the palms of his hands much to Even’s amusement. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You did not just say that.”

Even is laughing too hard to reply, the asshole. He’s a heavy weight on top of Isak, body gone too limp to hold himself up anymore.

And Isak should be groaning, should be teasing Even relentlessly for actually having said the words ‘dick-action’ out loud, but instead he shuffles his left thigh out from underneath Even’s weight and uses it alongside his right leg to wrap around Even’s waist, pulling him in closer and closer and closer until he can’t breathe.

This time it feels like he can’t breathe because he’s laughing too hard for Even to be lying on top of him like this. For all of the reasons why Isak has been unable to breathe in the past, this is probably one of his favorites.

“The mood is all over the place,” Isak complains, says more than anything really.

It’s difficult to complain when Even is smiling like that at him.

“It’s good,” Even assures him, pressing his hips down against Isak’s so he can feel for himself just how good it really is.

Isak has to admit that it does feel dizzyingly good.

“I forgot how fun this is,” Even whispers, fingers running along Isak’s hairline softly. “Or, well, not forgot necessarily, but – you know what it’s like when you know about something because you used to do it every single day, like, you know how hard it was to get up at six every morning because you had to go to school, but you don’t remember the feeling of being so tired and just wanting to stay home? It’s like that. I knew I always loved you and loved having you this way, but I wouldn’t and couldn’t let myself fully remember what it was really like.”

Isak knows. Isak knows this, because he feels it too, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to Even, so instead he pulls Even down by his neck and presses his lips against his.

It doesn’t feel as frantic as it had out in the hall, but it feels deeper than anything else Isak has ever felt. He feels it in his stomach, in his heart, in his lungs, all the way down to his toes.

Even plucks at the hem of the hoodie Isak’s wearing. “Love seeing you in this.”

Isak licks his bottom lip, Even following the movement as if in a trance. They’re both breathing a bit harshly. “But maybe not right now?” he finishes for Even.

“Maybe not right now,” Even agrees, and then they’re shuffling until Even’s up on his knees and Isak’s crunching high enough that he can get the hoodie off with Even’s help.

Isak falls back on the bed with an umph, but the sound has barely left his lips before he’s leaning up again to wrench off his t-shirt, and then help Even out as well.

“Too many layers,” he complains much to Even’s amusement.

“It’s late autumn. In Norway. What do you want?”

“For you to not be wearing this many clothes,” Isak tells him bluntly, because this is a thing he wants to get good at, wants to be able to tell Even the truth without hesitating or second-guessing himself.

Even pauses, but his eyes are dark, cheeks a bit flushed, and he’s staring at Isak like he’s a few seconds away from devouring him.

Then he lifts his shirt off as well, crawling his way back over Isak. The feeling of his skin pressing against Isak’s makes Isak gasp, hands flying up to steady himself somewhere, anywhere, to let Even help him feel grounded.

One hand ends up in Even’s hair, the other clutching at his shoulder.

“One day,” Even pecks Isak’s lips so he can keep talking, “I’ll take you with me to see the world. All the warm places so you’ll never have to put any clothes on.”

Isak feels a bit like he’s made out of goo, that he’s actually melted here in Even’s arms. He cards the hand he has in Even’s hair gently through his locks. “I never needed to see the world,” he says instead of joking back. “That was never what it was about.”

Even shifts his weight onto his elbows so he can get close enough to breathe the same air as Isak.

“I know,” he tells him. “I know it wasn’t, that it isn’t. Let me spoil you, please.”

Isak blinks the tears out of his eyes frantically, looking off to the side even though he knows Even isn’t able to miss it, not when he’s this close. He doesn’t want to cry right now, not when he’s this happy. “Well, if you want to spoil me.“

“Menace,” Even grins, pressing his nose into Isak’s cheek until he’s managed to get his tear ducts back in line.

Isak hears the sentiment for what it is, though, hears the darling loud and clear.

It’s what makes him kiss Even again. Or, maybe it’s everything that makes him kiss Even again. Maybe it’s everything that makes him want to never stop kissing Even again.

The heat that fills Isak feels unbearably good. It’s difficult to breathe sometimes, but Isak doesn’t think not being able to breathe has ever felt like it does right now, with Even’s weight on top of him, his lips against his, his hands searing as they make their way around his body, easily manipulating it into moving this way and that until they’re both entirely undressed.

Isak’s breath hitches in his throat and he can’t seem to tug Even back down on top of him fast enough.

He just – he wants. He wants so much, and he wants so much more, but at the same time it already feels like it’s so much – more than he can handle.

He’s so hard, and Even is too. He gasps when he feels him against him, heat swirling around in his abdomen, making him squirm until Even finally manages to open up the lube and pour some out on his fingers. His hands are shaking a bit, though, and a drop spills onto Isak’s stomach.

He hisses from the cold, startled. Before he knows it Even has closed the lid and dropped the bottle in the sheets – which will be a bitch to search through in a second – so he can place his warm hand on Isak’s stomach. He looks positively massive like that, his fingers spanning all the way from his hip to his ribs.

God, Isak loves the feeling of it. That hasn’t changed in the slightest.

Other things have, though. Even’s more careful when he pushes the first finger in, in a way that he hasn’t been since the very first times they’d tried this.

His hair is different too, done up in the way he always does it; quaffed and stylish. It’s a bit disheveled from Isak messing it up right now, though. Isak sucks in a breath and has to grab on to Even’s hair again, just because.

Even looks up at him cautiously, checking if something is wrong, if Isak’s in pain, but whatever sight Isak makes only has his eyes darkening and lips parting slightly as a harsh breath leaves him.

“Fuck me,” Isak whispers, begs probably. He bears down when Even presses another finger against him, so ready, ready, ready and needing Even to just move on already. “Please.”

“Shh,” Even hushes him, pressing his lips against Isak’s right hip, then moves down to his inner thigh.

If he’d expected it to have a calming effect, it does make Isak feel like drawing in the next breath doesn’t feel impossible, but it serves nothing to quell the frantic energy building inside of him. He reaches down to grab a hold of himself, but Even bats his hand away before he can get a single tug in.

“Not yet,” he promises, grins when Isak whines in reply.

That’s a thing that isn’t different, Isak notes. Even is still as much of a tease as he’s always been.

As if Even can tell what he’s thinking, he curls his fingers perfectly. Isak’s legs curl up reflexively as he grows a million degrees hotter in one second. He accidentally bangs his knee against Even’s elbow, displacing his fingers inside of him. He lets out a soft, complaining noise at the odd movement that Even hurries to hush, his hand returning to Isak’s stomach.

His thumb draws small patterns along the bottom-line of his ribs in a hypnotizing manner.

“You’re good,” Even tells him, asks, Isak can’t tell. He wants to always have Even’s hands on him, wants to always feel like this, wants to always have Even between his thighs, wants time to freeze like this.

Or when he’s actually finally gotten Even inside of him. That’s probably better, definitely better.

“Even,” he gasps, trying to get his point across without saying the actual words. His tongue feels too thick to form words, his lips already sore from all the kissing. The skin on his chin feels a bit itchy from the scratch of Even’s stubble.

“Faen,” Even swears. “Do you have any idea what you look like right now? How you feel around my fingers?”

Isak burns with the flush heating him up. “Do you?”

“Christ.” Even doesn’t even bother closing his mouth now, just folds himself over Isak so he can kiss him.

Kissing Even both is and isn’t the same as it’s always been. He still likes to lick into Isak’s mouth, but it’s more controlled now. His lips are softer too, from stylists needing to present him in the best way possible. But he tastes the same, feels the same against Isak, and Isak can’t get enough of it.

Even’s just breathing now, sharing the same breaths between them over and over again. He works two fingers back inside Isak again.

“We’re good together, aren’t we?” Even’s voice is soft, a little shy, a lot insecure.

Isak cups his cheek. “Always. We’ve always been good together.”

Even nods, pressing his nose against Isak’s. “I wish you’d just called me, back then,” he admits in nothing but a whisper, “so I could’ve told you what a load of rubbish it was.”

It’s difficult feeling the pleasure of having Even inside of him at the same time as the cage around his heart tightens.

“I know.” Isak sort of does too, but there’s also a part of his that doesn’t. “I just – what if that had been it? What if they’d said ‘alright’ and made you pack up and leave? I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let our marriage be the only epic story you’d get to live.”

Even kisses him quiet.

“Still,” Even presses the tip of a third finger against where his other two fingers are, “I wish I hadn’t fucked up and made you believe that was a reality. That it was something I would seriously do, that I would feel like that.”

“We both fucked up,” Isak rectifies. “I shouldn’t have stopped talking to you. We shouldn’t have stopped talking altogether. That’s why it went so wrong.”

He tugs at Even’s hair to get his point across, to make sure he has Even’s attention and that he understands and believes what Isak’s telling him.

“We’re already doing better, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Even agrees. Isak loosens his grip on his hair. “I just wish I could’ve had you with me.”

Isak has to bite down on his tongue. “We can’t keep going over it like this, it’ll kill us. We’re going to move forward instead. Right?”

“Right,” Even nods, but he still looks sad so Isak kisses him again. “I just – I’m sorry I hurt you. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Isak promises. “And I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to do that. I don’t want to hurt you again. That’s why we’re working so hard to do better.”

“I know. We will. We are.” Even is the one to kiss him this time.

It’s slow and warm and good and it makes Isak feel like his lungs are able to fully expand inside of his chest. Even also looks happier when he pulls back, when he moves the two fingers he still has inside Isak.

Isak tries to muffle his groan against the pillows, but Even guides him back to face him instead with his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes. “Don’t do that. Let me hear you, please. It’s been so long, I want to hear – I want to see –“

Isak couldn’t muffle the noise he makes even if he wanted to. It’s raw and guttural and Even looks breathless from it.

“Fuck,” Even mutters again, and then there are three fingers inside of Isak and he can’t do anything but repeat the sentiment himself.

“Please,” he breathes, not even sure what he’s begging for. “Please.”

“I’ve got you,” Even promises. “I’ll take care of you. Let me – let me take care of you.”

Isak’s nodding, his eyes are squeezed shut so he can’t tell how Even looks. He can’t open them, he’s so overwhelmed with how good he feels and how much he feels.

Another soft noise escapes him when Even draws out his fingers.

“Uhm –“ Even hesitates, and Isak finally manages to open his eyes.

Even looks as disheveled as Isak feels, just as out of it and not wanting to miss any of it. Isak almost thinks that he’s going to ask if Isak’s sure, if he really wants this, or that he might bring up that he’s sorry again.

“You don’t know what happened to the lube, do you?”

Isak pauses as he registers Even’s words. Then – “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I literally thought that when I heard you just toss it –“

“Hey,” Even protests, but he’s laughing too hard to pull it off. “I was distracted.”

Isak snorts. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes,” Even agrees. “I have the most gorgeous boy underneath me, how could I not be distracted?”

Christ, Even shouldn’t be able to make him blush this easily, not in a moment like this. But Isak’s cheeks are heating up and he’s squirming underneath Even’s intense gaze. “If you hadn’t been distracted, you could’ve been inside this boy already.”

“God,” Even breathes, a bit like all the air has gotten punched out of his lungs. “Fuck, alright, please help me find the lube.”

“The sheets,” he directs, pulling at the corner of the duvet mostly unhelpfully. “Come on, please.”

“Fuck, okay,” Even mumbles, frantically patting down the duvet until he finds the bottle. “Okay, I’ve got you, come here.”

As if Isak has moved.

He pushes his feet up further on the mattress so he can lift his bum up onto Even’s thighs for easier access, his stomach tightening at the noises of Even slickening himself up.

And then he’s inside of him, and Isak has to fight to keep breathing, to not lose his breath entirely.

He slides in slowly, like Isak is something to be careful with.

“Ev- Even,” he breathes, hands flying out until he can steady himself on Even’s arms. “Even.”

Even’s breathing is labored already. He can’t tear his eyes off of Isak. “Christ, you’re tight. Isak, baby –”

“Can you –“ Isak moans when Even rolls his hips, keeps sliding in slowly, slowly, slowly until Isak’s certain there can’t be anything left. “Even –“

“I’ve got you,” Even promises, leaning down once he’s finally slid in the last couple of inches to kiss him. “Baby, I’ve got you.”

Isak doesn’t mean to moan at the endearment, but he does. God, he’s missed this, he loves this, he loves –

“I’ll always pick you,” Even promises him. “I never want you to doubt that ever again. I pick you.”

Isak nods, kisses him again. “I pick you too, you know. Always. Can you – please, move.”

And Even does. He pulls out about halfway, and then spends ages pushing back in to the hilt. Isak pushes himself up even further, hooks his knee around Even’s waist so he sinks in impossibly deeper on the next thrust.

It’s good. It’s impossibly good, and Isak loses himself to the feeling quickly.

He’s sweating. Even is as well, breath coming in short pants as he moves quicker and quicker, working Isak up to the edge dizzyingly fast. He doesn’t want it to end yet, though. Not when it’s this good, when it means so much to him.

This is the boy that Isak had fallen head-first in love with when Even had broken into the Botanical Garden just to get him a picture of a flower. This is the boy that he’d snuck around with everywhere because neither of them dared to meet in the sunlight. This is the boy that he’d fumbled through awkward blowjobs before they’d gotten the hang of it, the first person he’d ever kissed, ever had sex with, ever fell in love with. This is the boy he’d married, had vowed to spend the rest of his life with. The boy he’d thought he would never get to have like this again, who didn’t want him anymore. This is the boy that Isak will get to spend the rest of his life with.

“Baby,” Even croons sweetly into Isak’s temple as he presses a kiss there. “Baby.”

Isak mewls beautifully even as he chokes on a sob. Tears are wetting his eyelashes and he’s feeling so much he can’t process it.

“Baby, you’re crying,” Even tells him, reminds him, Isak doesn’t know, can’t focus on anything that isn’t Even slowing down until he’s lazily twisting his hips, grinding so deeply inside him. “Why are you crying?”

And there are so many reasons why Isak’s crying, but mostly because it’s been so long since he’s had this, since he’s had Even, and it feels like he’s been lost, wandering for years and years and now he’s finally gotten to come home.

“Love you,” Isak babbles, choked and breathy and whiny and so, so beautifully. “Love you, love you, love you.”

Even might be crying a little bit as well.

“My baby,” Even presses small kisses down his cheekbone, his cheek, his jaw, licking away any tears that have escaped. “My sweet, beautiful, brave boy. So good for me, so good to me.”

A sob breaks out of Isak’s mouth. “Love you.”

He should’ve told him a million times, should’ve never stopped saying it.

“I love you, too. God, Isak, I’m so close, please tell me you’re close as well,” Even begs.

“I’m close,” Isak promises, grabs Even’s shoulder to keep from getting pushed up the bed by Even’s hips. “I love you. I’m so close.”

“Isak,” Even moans, lying down on top of Isak so he can kiss him, his hips picking up the pace again once their chests are pressed together, Isak’s dick is trapped between their stomachs. “What do you need, what can I –“

“Kiss me,” Isak begs. “Just that, just kiss me, please.”

And Even does. His lips glide over Isak’s messily, because his hips are losing their rhythm and they’re both panting but also way too close to the edge to really care.

Isak shoots off between them without a hand to help him along. Even’s hips rock up twice into him before he hides his face away in Isak’s neck, sucking the skin between his teeth to control his moans.

“Baby.” Isak whines at the name again, feeling oversensitive and used and so fucking in love. “It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

“I love you,” Isak replies, grunting when Even pulls out.

He only just manages to shift his weight onto one arm before he tumbles onto the bed next to Isak, short of breath and flushed and the most beautiful thing Isak has ever seen.

“I love you,” he whispers, not caring if Even doesn’t hear it. He just needs to say it, needs for the words to be out there in the universe.

It sounds like some bullshit Vilde would probably say, he thinks. How if you tell the universe about what you want, it’ll give it to you.

Isak doesn’t need for the universe to grant him anything. Not when he’s already got what he wants the most. Now he just has to work on keeping it, but he doesn’t think that’ll be a problem – not with all the people he knows he has in his corner.

Even’s still lying on his back from where he tumbled onto the bed. Isak can’t stand not being closer to him, so he rolls onto his side, then continues onto his front until his shoulder bumps against Even’s chest.

“Umph,” Even grunts, but it’s for show and he’s already worming his arm underneath Isak’s neck to support his head. “Halla.”

“Hei,” Isak grins, feeling a little silly because of how shy he suddenly feels. “You alright?”

“I’m fucking amazing,” he grins, moving his elbow so Isak rolls a little closer. He’s smiling softly at him as Isak moves to accommodate him. “And – are you?”

Isak hums pleased. “A little sore.”

Even’s free hand lands on Isak’s hips, the tips of his fingers pressing against his lower back wonderfully. Isak groans at the feeling, pushes up against Even’s touch even as he moves further down towards his cheeks.

“I like it, though,” he admits, squirming with it as Even looks fully captivated by him. “I like you.”

Even’s smile is blinding. “I like you.”

Isak’s own smile might be blinding as well. It makes kissing a little awkward, but by god is Isak going to do it anyway –

The front door slams open.

“Hello, fellow remaining roommates!” Magnus bellows, voice a little muffled through Isak’s closed door, but not enough to easily tune him out.

Or Mahdi, for that sake. “We have returned, because the weather was utterly shit and rubbish for football, so we went to get kebabs, and now we’re freezing cold and with no other excuses to stay out.”

“Oh my god,” Isak groans, shoving his head into the pillow. His mouth sort of lands on Even’s bicep, though, which means his head ends up being a bit shaken about because Even is laughing.

“Don’t worry, though, because we are in the mood for music!” the yelling continues, Jonas this time, because all of Isak’s friends are assholes.

“The goddamn theatrics on them,” Isak complains. “And I thought living with you or Eskild was bad.”

“Shush, you,” Even curls the arm Isak’s lying on to gather him closer. “At least they’re courteous enough to let us know they’re back without just walking in.”

Isak snorts. “’Courteous’. Yeah, right, good one. They’re a bunch of assholes, just you wait –“’

The words haven’t even left Isak’s mouth before The Lion King soundtrack starts blaring through the apartment.

Even’s laugh comes a close second in terms of loudness – a full-on belly laugh that leaves him breathless and with shining eyes as he curls closer to Isak.

“Assholes,” Isak repeats. “I hate them. Let’s move out.”

Even’s still giggling, but not so much that he can’t press a kiss to Isak’s temple. “Not yet, baby. Let’s enjoy this a bit longer.”

He’s smiling and beautiful and he’s Isak’s fucking husband, and it’s so easy to smile back and fall a little more in love to the tunes of Elton John’s ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’.

“Okay.”

OOOOO

“If you’re late for Movie Night-night one more time, Isak, I will personally drag the two of you apart, do not test me!”

“Five more minutes,” Isak mutters against Even’s lips, stubbornly kissing him even as Even laughs.

“I don’t think we have five minutes,” Even tells him, but then he’s kissing him again, so what does he know.

They do not, in fact, have five minutes.

Isak’s door knocks against the wall, startling the two of them apart.

“Oh god, my eyes!” Mahdi is screeching despite not even having peeked in and the fact that both Isak and Even are fully clothed. Their lips aren’t even pink and swollen yet – they haven’t been kissing for more than ten minutes because Isak had to finish up his reading first and Even had to fix an issue with a colleague’s script directions. “It burns!”

“Shut up,” Isak groans, tries to pull Even back down on the bed to kiss him. Who cares if the door is open, that’ll show them to not interrupt the sacredness of a closed door.

God, what does he need to do, put a sock on the door handle as well?

Even only lets him for two kisses, though, then he’s pulling back and moving off the bed.

“No,” he whines petulantly, making grabby-hands at Even. Maybe if he pouts long enough Even will take pity on him and tell the boys to fuck off, he has a boy to kiss.

That doesn’t happen.

“Up,” Even orders, only leaning forward long enough to smack at Isak’s hip once, way too fast for Isak to grab on to him to pull him back down.

“It’s a movie night,” Isak complains, hoping Even will see sense and come back already.

Even just laughs, the asshole, from out in the hallway. “What is my favorite thing in the world?”

“Me.”

“Second favorite,” Even amends from out in the kitchen. “What snacks do you want?”

Isak sighs for a good minute, loudly so Even knows of his displeasure. “Chips.”

“What flavor?”

Isak stomps into the living room without looking back at Even in the kitchen. “Onion, because like hell am I kissing you again tonight.”

“Hello there, grumpy boy,” Jonas greets him, probably in an attempt at saving Even from Isak’s wrath when he hears just how loud he’s laughing. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence – umph!” he groans when Isak sinks down on the couch, a well-placed elbow ending up in Jonas’ stomach.

Mahdi and Magnus have gotten comfy already; Mahdi’s scrolling through the movie options, and Magnus is sitting sideways in the armchair he’s dragged closer to the couches.

He’s looking at Isak, frowning thoughtfully. “You know, you’ve gone without getting any dick for years by now. Surely going five minutes without Even’s dick isn’t the end of the world.”

Isak wouldn’t be able to bite his tongue hard enough to refrain from giving Magnus a scorching remark. “Said by someone who has clearly never tried it.”

It was meant to be a dis about Magnus being a virgin. In no way possible has Isak ever expected Magnus to interpret it as something else.

Magnus bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly at him. “Why, Isak, are you offering to ‘show me the ropes’, so to speak?”

The snort Jonas makes is entirely unattractive, and Isak sort of wishes he’d recorded it just for holding it over his head, but then again he’s really glad he’s not recording the atrocity that is this fucking conversation.

“Absolutely not,” he protests. “That’s, like, the biggest turn off in the world.”

“Bullshit!” Magnus calls. “As if you wouldn’t fuck me if you had the chance.”

Isak just looks at him. “No.”

The look on Magnus’ face is so shocked and affronted Mahdi ends up spewing a bit of juice out of his nose.

“Bullshit!” Magnus repeats, snapping his fingers at Isak. “Come on! Out of the three of us, who would you bang first?”

“None of you.” Isak doesn’t even have to think about it.

Magnus squawks, indignantly outraged. “Lies. Lies and slander I tell you.”

“Ranking is in, right now,” Jonas puffs at Isak with his elbow, ignoring the chilling glare he gets in return. “Haven’t you seen all the YouTube videos?”

“It’s only three places,” Magnus whines. “Isak, come on! First, second, and third in the competition for Isak’s dick.”

“You’ve all been disqualified.”

“Isak!”

“Magnus,” Isak finally snaps, “look at what I’m working with. None of you compare.”

Magnus blinks. Then blinks again and shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“That’s it?” Mahdi cries out. “I’ve been listening to your whining and you just give up like that?”

“It’s Even,” Magnus stresses, like that’s an explanation in itself. “There isn’t a single person in the world who wouldn’t want Even. You know what – everyone in this room who has ever wanted Even, raise your hand.” Magnus‘ hand flies up immediately. He sends Isak a dirty look. “Isak, you too.”

“No.”

“Isak –“

“Come on, man,” Mahdi breaks in, nudging Isak’s knee with his foot. He has to stretch comically far to reach him, but even the sight of it isn’t enough to lift Isak’s mood. “It’ll just look weird if you don’t. As if we don’t know it already.”

Isak levels a glare at Mahdi instead, but he also sighs and raises his hand.

“There you go!” Magnus laughs, leaning forward to high-five him. Jonas barks out a laugh at the cross look on Isak’s face.

“What the hell am I walking in on?” Even laughs, holding a packet of chips in one hand, two chocolate bars under his elbows and balancing two cups of tea by their handles in his other hand. He’s grinning obnoxiously at Isak, waggling his eyebrows. “So much for not wanting to kiss me tonight, huh?”

“Fuck off,” Isak groans, but it’s ruined by a giggle he has to hide away in one of the sofa cushions once the teasing starts.

This is good, he thinks when the lights have been turned off, the opening credits rolling as they all get comfortable.

Magnus and Even are already complaining about the composition, Mahdi calls bullshit because they haven’t gotten past the movie companies’ logos yet. Isak leans his head down on Jonas’ shoulder who accommodates him easily, then presses his toes into Even’s thigh.

Even doesn’t even flinch, just curls his fingers around Isak’s ankle, squeezing him once before he pulls his feet fully onto his lap. He’s laughing at something Mahdi said, and even in the horrible lighting the TV provides he’s the most beautiful thing Isak has ever seen.

“You alright, man?” Jonas whispers when the opening title music starts.

Isak nods, lets himself finally breathe completely easy at once. “Yeah. Better than alright. I’m great. I’m really, really great.”

Jonas grins back at him. “That’s ‘great’,” he teases, but Isak knows he means it.

It really is, he silently agrees as Even’s thumb draws circles along his ankle joint. It’s better than, even. It’s just really, really great.

It’s dark, but Isak can still tell when Even smiles at him.

Isak grins back.

Past

Isak flunks every single one of his exams. He only finds out about it because he gets an email that tells him he needs to manually sign up for his second out of three attempts, it won’t be done automatically.

Whatever, Isak thinks, letting the roar of the crowd swallow him whole. He’ll just re-sit come February. It’s fine.

OOOOO

It’s less fine when Isak isn’t drunk anymore.

He’s stuck on the results page, sees the list documenting his failure, wouldn’t be able to look away even if he wanted to. His fingers itch to get a drink in them, but Isak just keeps sitting at his desk in front of his computer, staring at the screen.

This isn’t Isak.

Isak isn’t sure who he is anymore, hasn’t been for months now, but he does know that this isn’t him.

It’s not like Isak believes he’s only worth the number of his grade, but this – Isak isn’t stupid. He isn’t unable to understand the material he’s supposed to have spent the months between September and January learning. This isn’t him.

It would be easier to just get a drink. Much easier. That’s probably why Isak’s been doing it for so long, deflecting from everything and using it to hide away.

When Isak pushes himself away from the laptop, it’s not to grab his jacket that’s now definitely too thin for the weather and find a bar or a club somewhere. It’s to dig out his textbooks from underneath his bed where he’d put them right after purchasing them and hasn’t moved them since.

And when he sits back down again, he keeps the tab with his grades open, but he also opens Canvas so he can see the slides from the lectures and the assignments from the tutorials.

For the first time since starting at university, Isak cracks open his cell and molecular biology book and starts to read.

OOOOO

Isak’s got a headache the first time he attends a lecture when second term has started.

Not as earsplitting painful as the hangover-headaches had been, mind you, but it’s still there and he isn’t able to ignore it.

He knows quitting drinking cold turkey can be a bit of a dangerous approach, but Jonas’ eyebrows had been furrowed an uncomfortably large amount when he’d caught Isak sipping a beer at seven in the morning, so Isak had gotten out of bed this morning and headed to his lecture hall with a headache instead.

Turns out that lectures are a lot of fun when you don’t go there as a means to pass the time or when you’re hung-over as fuck. It’s a lot of fun, actually, and it’s so interesting Isak actually forgets to take any notes, he’s that captured by the professor.

He ends up spending an hour and a half on campus afterwards. He finds an unpopulated nook and scrambles with the keys to get down everything he remembers.

And then feels actually good about himself once he’s done. It’s a novel feeling, if Isak’s being honest. That would be a novelty as well, technically.

OOOOO

Isak’s honestly surprised that the light in his desk lamp hasn’t blown up yet from the sudden switch between having never been used to suddenly never getting a break.

He types up another definition, changing the format of certain words so they’re easier to spot when he scrolls through, then grabs his pencil to write it down on a flashcard.

Two knocks sound on his door.

“Hey,” Mahdi sticks his head in.

Isak immediately lowers his head, focusing on his scratchy handwriting instead. “Hey.”

“We’re going over to the Union,” Mahdi explains, nodding his head in the direction of the front door. “Want to join?”

Isak grimaces. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus, it’s more that he doesn’t get why they would bother inviting him along. He pushed Mahdi, he’s constantly snapping at Magnus because of his complete inability to take a hint and shut up about Even whilst Isak is there, and Jonas is clearly frustrated with his behavior.

“Sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I can’t.”

Mahdi nods, doesn’t look surprised, but he also doesn’t look relieved. Isak doesn’t know what any of it means. “It’d be cool if you came, though. When was the last time you took a break?”

Isak shrugs instead of replying. He can’t remember. He thinks he might’ve forgotten to eat dinner as well, now that he’s thinking about it, so going to the Union is definitely a ‘no’, then. He’ll fuck up everything if he drinks something on an empty stomach.

“It wasn’t a big deal, last time,” Mahdi sighs, “If that’s what you’re thinking about. Why you’re saying no. It’s fine.”

Isak winces. It really isn’t fine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m not like that –“

Mahdi rolls his eyes. “We know that, Isak, otherwise we wouldn’t be putting this much fucking effort into getting you to go out with us again.”

Oh. Isak flushes a bit, hopes he just looks warm from the scorching light of his desk lamp. “I’m kind of on a roll right now, though. Maybe next time. And I promise I won’t get violent.”

Mahdi points faux-threateningly at him. “Next time, then, Valtersen. We won’t take no for an answer.”

OOOOO

The thing about alcohol that makes it so tempting isn’t the feeling of letting go of your inhibitions, or your sense of reality slipping away until you feel like the impossible is possible. It had provided him with a blissful numbness.

Isak isn’t numb anymore.

So it had been about wanting to not feel anything, and then it had been about how it made it easier to forget.

Or, not forget, because he never did that, not really, but it made it easier to not constantly think about it.

Now that he isn’t drinking anymore, he has to actively not think about it, but actively not thinking isn’t easy at all.

Studying only goes so far. Memorizing and focusing on the coursework helps, but only temporarily. It all – Even, papers, signatures, secrets, lying, the shame, and the guilt, and the loneliness – stays with him now that he doesn’t have a method to make it go away – even if it’s in the background, it’s still there.

And it weighs so heavily on Isak’s shoulders. It leaves him absolutely exhausted to keep up the charade, to make it seem like, no, nothing is the matter, everything is fine and like he actually has managed to get his life in order, when it really feels like he’s about to fall apart as easily as he did back in May when the fantasy world he’d lived in came crumbling down on top of him.

It all leads to sleepless nights and sleepless nights lead to Isak steadily going out of his mind.

Pent up emotions seem to be treading lightly the edge of keeping it in and bursting out of him, and Isak can’t let that happen, he can’t. Not only does he still not want anyone to know anything about him, not like that, but now if something were to slip out he wouldn’t have Even to fall back on. He’d be alone, and a lot more alone than he already is right now.

Isak fucking hates being alone.

But he also doesn’t have a clue how to actually do anything to fix it. Focusing on his studies clearly doesn’t work. Drinking had worked, but he can’t start that shit again, because that’ll lead to him spiraling so far down he’ll never climb back up again. Talking to someone about it is out of the question.

Which means he’s out of options. And getting more frantic which each passing day to just figure out something so he won’t accidentally spill over and ruin everything he’s built up so far.

“Are you okay?”

Surprisingly enough, it isn’t someone who asks Isak that, but Isak who asks Eva.

Her eyes are red and puffy, she’s obviously been crying, but now she’s apparently moved on from being sad to being angry.

She softens a bit when she sees Isak, though.

“Hey,” she mutters, shoulders slumping. “Jonas isn’t here?”

Isak shakes his head. “No, he’s on the grocery run this week, drew the short straw.” They have a rotational shift schedule, but Isak is just really good at getting out of doing his share of the workload. Instead, he repeats, “Are you okay?”

Eva shrugs, but her bottom lip is quivering. “It’s just Jonas being an asshole,” she explains, the anger suddenly coming back. “It’s not like I don’t know you guys smoke, okay? I don’t know why he insists on lying to me about it, because it just makes me feel like shit and paranoid – because if he’s lying about that, what else is he lying about, you know?”

Isak doesn’t know. They’d made it a point not to lie to each other, not when they were lying to everyone else.

Then again, Isak is here, by himself for the rest of his life, so what does he know. “Do you want me to yell at him when he comes back?” he offers.

Eva laughs a little snottily, but it’s real enough. “No. I had a good cry about it. That always helps, doesn’t it?”

Isak hasn’t cried since he packed up his stuff and whatever belongings of Even’s that he hadn’t been able to part with. Maybe that – maybe. Maybe it isn’t all too terrible an idea.

“Anyway,” Eva shrugs, seemingly calmer now that she’s gotten some of it out of her system. “I’ll just – talk to him later, I guess.” She leans in and gives Isak a hug. “Takk, Isak.”

“You’re welcome,” he mumbles, not paying attention because his head is stuck somewhere else.

In a shoebox-sized apartment in Oslo that two people had shared before one of them had gotten a better offer, to be precise.

Crying hadn’t fixed anything, hadn’t felt like the catharsis Eva had been talking about – it had just made him feel sweaty and disgusting and utterly pathetic, and had just about cemented the fact that Even wasn’t coming back, because why the fuck would he when this was what he’d be coming back to.

But Isak is desperate, and this is an option that Isak knows won’t be difficult to attempt, not with all these emotions swirling around inside of him, too close to flooding.

He just needs one thing, and that thing he’s got hidden away in his room, so he walks back inside, going directly over to draw the curtains.

Isak isn’t the one who left. He’s the one who fucked up and made Even stop loving him, yes, but he can’t keep going like this. He shouldn’t keep punishing himself over it; it’ll never stop if he continues like that.

He’s still pissed at Even, absolutely furious, but the hurt is the most prominent feeling now that he’s sober, and the gut-wrenching hurt is the emotion that wins out.

It takes a while, because Isak had shoved the box into the very back of his closet for a reason – that he never wanted to see any of that shit again, but now he does. He wants it, and it takes ages to dig through overdue laundry and random items he’d forgotten he still had.

And then the box is there, with a layer of dust accumulated where it hadn’t been covered.

They’ve been left untouched since Isak stashed them there, and he honestly can’t really remember packing them either, so he’s a bit startled when he opens them up and sees the absolute disarray that it’s in.

Most of the things he doesn’t even remember Even owning, and then there are a few camera lenses that have cracked from neglect – Isak doesn’t know why he grabbed them, doesn’t remember, but feels very stupid that he didn’t at least also grab the camera they go with.

Isak isn’t interested in the cameras or the lenses or the drawings. Right there, not at the very bottom, but far down enough that Isak had started to get worried that he hadn’t packed it, that he’d misremembered, that he’d left it behind for Even to have or throw out, is Even’s hoodie. The one Isak had practically stolen and never given back, and Even had let him because it was his favorite thing to see Isak in his clothes and he’d loved giving him long hugs so he could just enjoy the soft material as well.

It’s still soft, despite having been mistreated so badly for months now. The drawstrings have still retained the color of the paint. It doesn’t smell like Even, probably because Even hasn’t been near it for over a year, now. Doesn’t even smell of Isak, if he’s honest. Smells of dust more than anything.

But Isak doesn’t need to scent to feel like a freight train has run him over.

This is a moment where he’d resort to alcohol, but he can’t do that now, not like this, not over a stupid hoodie. He’s been doing better and he won’t let it be ruined by this fucking weakness of his.

So instead he scoots over on the floor until he reaches his laptop, opens Spotify and presses shuffle and play and turns it up louder than vibe-guy has ever played his music.

Next, he locks his door. And when that doesn’t feel like enough, he tries to push his desk in front of it.

Which turns out to be a complete fail because the desk has been nailed into the wall. So Isak pushes his bed instead and hides away in the corner it had stood in.

The opening of the song hasn’t even settled into the first chorus before the tears are streaming down his cheeks and breathing is ten times harder than it’s ever been.

It’s ugly, and Isak feels horrible all throughout it. His nose clogs up and he can’t see through his blurry vision. His speakers are blaring happy pop songs that Even would’ve loved – which just makes it worse – and he needs it to be loud enough that no one can hear him through the door or the walls, but that leaves him with a headache.

It doesn’t make it impossible to hear the intermittent pounding on the door when people desperately want for him to stop making all of that noise.

For all that Isak feels the positively worst he’s felt in a long time, he also isn’t ready for this to stop. Not yet.

The hoodie is crumbled up in his sweaty hands. There are spots darkening the material that Isak can tell come from his tears. And then another set of spots from his tears when it had gotten so intense Isak was certain people would be able to hear him over the music.

When the tears stop falling and his breath stops hitching and the headache from getting too little oxygen into his system has settled in, Isak wouldn’t say he feels better, per se, but he doesn’t feel as frazzled.

Still, this was the last time he’ll do this, he promises himself. He won’t spend any more time crying over an idiotic past. He’s done.

OOOOO

“Is that a new hoodie?”

“No. Just recently stumbled upon it whilst I was cleaning.”

“Cool.”

OOOOO

Isak does end up going out with them the next time. It’s a Friday evening, he’s just finished his first re-exam, and he doesn’t feel completely awful. It’s nice.

He’d had a beer with the boys before they left the house, and the mix of the warm, pleasant buzz inside of him and the not bitingly cold spring air not making it feel like his jacket is way too thin for this time of year leaves him in a good mood.

They head to the Union, because there’s a deal going on – like there isn’t always a deal going on in a place catering to poor university students – but it’s not like Isak is going to buy more than a beer, so what does he care where they end up.

He should’ve cared a bit more, he realizes once they’re in the midst of the crowd and barely able to hear each other speaking, and Magnus has slunk off to talk to some girl, Mahdi has just disappeared ,and Jonas has gone to the bathroom, leaving Isak all by himself.

Isak hasn’t gotten any better at being by himself, and being in a place like this isn’t helpful in the slightest.

Just because he had a proper cry about it doesn’t mean that Isak is okay. As much as he tries to fool himself into believing it, the hurt is buried so deeply inside of him Isak doubts he’ll ever really be okay.

And standing here surrounded by people who are happy and having fun when Isak has to work so hard just to feel one of those emotions, even harder without the aid of something extra, is way harder than allowing himself to have that cry had been.

He should leave. He’s about to find one of the guys – Mahdi or Jonas, because they’ll make the smallest scene when Isak tells them he’s getting out of there – when a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

“There you are,” Jonas says, dragging Isak backwards towards him and towards the exit. “It’s way too crowded in here, we’re bailing.”

Isak has grabbed his jacket and is waiting by the entrance before Magnus and Mahdi have had the chance to get their stuff ready. Magnus is wearing one of Mahdi’s shoes, apparently, which Isak isn’t sure how they managed to pull off.

It takes them five minutes of jumping around once they’ve gotten outside, Magnus wobbling on one foot because he doesn’t want to dirty his socks, before they manage to switch back around and get on their way.

“Fuck, she was so pretty, though,” Magnus complains, throwing his head back and groaning when he recalls just what the girl he’d been talking to had looked like.

The guilt churns in Isak’s stomach. He should’ve just told them he was heading out, that they didn’t need to come with him. It was obvious it hadn’t been too crowded for them. Just for Isak.

Mahdi huffs out a laugh. “I saw her, too. Trust me, you didn’t stand a chance. You should be thanking us for saving you from a fate of humiliation.”

“Hey!” Magnus protests halfheartedly, scuffing the tip of his shoe against the asphalt, then nearly tripping in the process.

Isak hadn’t seen the girl, and he does know of Magnus’ track record, but that isn’t the point that keeps the guilt swirling inside of him.

“Where are we off to?” he asks instead. He shoves his hands into his pockets, curling them up into fists as he waits for the answer.

Jonas shrugs. “What’s the rush for?”

Isak doesn’t reply. He hasn’t got an answer, doesn’t know how to tell them that he knows why they left and that he doesn’t get why they did that for him.

He expects for them to head into the bar close by that also caters to poor students, seeing as they’re headed towards it, but they pass right by it. And they pass by the next one. And the next one. The guilt makes Isak feel heavier and heavier with each step they take.

“Gutter!” Magnus points excitedly before bounding over to the walkway with an iron handrail. “This is fucking perfect.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Mahdi calls out after him.

“I need one of you, I’m having my Titanic-moment!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jonas laughs, hiding his face behind his hands as his shoulders shake from laughter. “Get down, you idiot, you’ll fall off and end up in a coma!”

Magnus sticks his foot between two guards, stepping up. “Then come over here and hold me like one of your French girls!”

Paint, Isak doesn’t correct. Paint me like one of your French girls.

“He’s fucking insane,” Mahdi laughs. Isak tries not to flinch at the word.

“I’ll go,” Jonas volunteers, jogging over so he can climb up behind Magnus. He barely manages to stay up, though, from the giggling. “This is so gay.”

Magnus spreads his hands out when he’s sure Jonas has gotten a hold of himself. “I can’t hear you over how much I’m flying, Jack!”

“You’re an idiot,” Isak tells him once he and Mahdi get close enough. “You couldn’t have just done the I’m the king of the world instead?”

“Do you know what, Isak?” Magnus sasses. “It sounds like you’re jealous that I found myself a Jack and you haven’t.”

“I’m out,” Jonas laughs, jumping off the railing, giggling like mad when Mahdi has to dive forward to catch Magnus to keep him from actually braining himself into a coma.

“Idiots,” Isak complains, but he’s laughing as well. “Fucking idiots, all of you.”

They don’t go to another bar or a club or even to buy something to drink in the 24-hours open store that they pass. Isak doesn’t try and lie to himself as a reason why not, but the tiny spark of happiness it ignites is enough to quell down the guilt a little bit. That, and the fact that they end up making Magnus laugh so hard he has to sit down lest he starts to pee his pants.

Mahdi throws bird seeds at him, which none of them know where or when he got a hold of, but it just makes the situation worse. Or better, depending on if you see it from Magnus’ bladder control point of view or judge it by how easy it is for Isak to breathe.

OOOOO

Isak aces every single one of his exams. Both the ones he’d had to re-sit, and then the next ones.

He did it. He actually fucking did it.

He sits and stares at the results-page on his laptop, can’t stop looking at the row of perfect grades that aren’t supposed to define how good of a person Isak is, but right now the rows of numbers are the only tangible proof that Isak is actually getting better. That he might in fact be worth something.

He likes that feeling. He’s not going to let it slip away from him again, he’s going to fight to keep feeling like this.

Isak is going to get better. That’s a promise he makes himself that he intends on keeping.

OOOOO

“We’ve been looking into a couple of apartments.”

They’re leaving. He’s finally somewhat figured out how to do this, how to live without – how to live and how to make friends and they’re already leaving.

“Oh?” he asks nonchalantly, or he hopes it comes across nonchalantly and not absolutely terrified. “Found anything?”

Jonas nods, taking a sip of his beer. He sits down on the railing of the balcony they’re on. Isak can’t remember whose house they’re at – not because he’s had too much to drink to remember where he’s at, but because Magnus had been the one who knew about the party and his explanation of how he knew about was just too long for Isak to pay attention from start to finish.

He knows all about how this person’s mama used to have a goldfish collection when she was a kid, but he doesn’t know who actually owns the house. Figures.

“Yeah. A four bedroom, not too far from campus. A tram stop or two.”

“That’s cool,” Isak says, hopes it doesn’t sound as detached as he feels.

They’re leaving. They’re actually leaving. Isak should be used to people leaving him by now, but he isn’t. He really, really isn’t.

“Yeah,” Jonas agrees, but there’s something to the tone of his voice, something that forces Isak out of the protective bubble he’d already started to build up so he can look dubiously at him. “That fourth room isn’t the living room, by the way.”

Isak blinks.

Then he blinks again, still not saying anything. He can’t say anything, because if he gets it wrong he won’t be able to handle it.

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Christ, man, are you really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” Isak doesn’t hesitate, because yes, he needs to hear it. Not for the reason that Jonas obviously thinks – that he’s teasing or self-centered and wants the confirmation that they’d be honored to share a living space with him, but because it doesn’t fit in his head why on earth they would want to share a living space with him.

“Isak,” Jonas starts. Isak barely hears it, his heart pounding too fast and beating too loudly. “Would you mind paying the rent until we can find a fourth roommate?”

“Asshole,” Isak knocks his knee against Jonas’ foot, but it comes out too soft, a little too out of breath for Jonas’ eyes not to soften and his teasing grin to smooth into something a little more sincere.

“Seriously,” Jonas ensures him. “Would you like to?”

Yes, Isak should say, because he does. Yes, yes, yes should be the only word coming out of his mouth.

“Why?” comes out instead.

If Jonas is surprised, he doesn’t show it. “You’re trying,” Jonas takes another a sip of his beer. “And we like you. We really like you, man.”

Isak tries to blink the tears out of his eyes.

“But if we’re doing this, you can’t fall back into your old ways.”

Isak feels cold despite the warm summer air. “I won’t.”

Jonas looks a bit dubious, but he just nods. “Do you want to do this, then?”

There are tears prickling in the corners of Isak’s eyes, and he just hopes he can blame the dry wind or the beer or something, anything, that isn’t something finally going Isak’s way.

“Yeah, bro,” he sounds choked up. “Yeah.”

Jonas grins and holds his hand out for Isak to shake. “Let’s do this then.”

And Isak’s smiling, actually smiling – full-on grinning and meaning it, and he’s moving in with Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus and it all feels too good to be true.

He folds his hand into Jonas’, and Jonas tightens his grip so much Isak almost thinks they’re going in for that awkward bro-side-hug when all Jonas does is ensure Isak can’t draw back until he gets out the rushed, “And you have to be nicer to Magnus.”

Isak dramatically rips his hands out of Jonas’ hold and groans and whines and moans that none of it is worth it if that’s what it takes while Jonas cackles and nearly falls over the railing, and Isak’s nearly giggling so hard he can’t pull him back down.

Magnus and Mahdi find them lying in a heap on the balcony, giggling like fools.

Mahdi does look at Isak dubiously for a couple of seconds, like he’s expecting for him to be so out of it again despite the fact Isak hasn’t had anything harder than beer the last couple of months.

Whatever he’s looking for, Isak passes the test, and both Magnus and Mahdi grin as they fold themselves around him and Jonas. Magnus starts pointing up at the sky, telling stories about the signs, and both Isak and Mahdi call bullshit whilst Jonas tries to spin everything that comes out of Magnus’ mouth in a claim why the government is shit.

And Isak is moving in with these idiots.

He hasn’t been bad for months now, hasn’t done something he’d regret the next morning and hasn’t done something that would make him forget everything that had happened prior to waking up. He’s better than that, now he just needs to get better concerning everything else.

He can feel it; lying on a balcony at some house party he doesn’t know the hosts of, and he can just feel it. It feels like a turning point of some kind, like this is the moment things will actually start to get better, to get easier.

It’s not like all of his problems have suddenly disappeared. He still gets mornings where it doesn’t seem worth it to get up, still has moments where he just hurts so much he doesn’t remember how to breathe. And then there is the fact that the boys he’s decided are worth betting on don’t know that he’s not actually hooking up with girls left and right, don’t know he isn’t interested in girls at all. They don’t know why he got so bad in the first place.

But he’s moving in with these three idiots he’s ready to call his best friends, and he’s passed his exams with flying colors, and he’s signed up for his third semester, one year closer to getting his degree, and he can feel it.

This is going to be his year. Isak swears he’s going to do everything in his power to make it happen.

This is going to be his year.

Next part

#Evak #Evak fanfiction #SKAM #SKAM Norway #SKAM fanfiction #Dutten-does-the-fanfic #Something Great

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secret-engima · 5 years

Note

I really like that the outcome for the Pretty Song!daemons is becoming their own creatures, bc that means Lucis will have to work out how to deal with a bunch of semi-sapient magical beings that are no longer hostile. Also, on that note, it occurs to me that bad ppl will become much more hesitant to hurt kids in rural Lucis after stories of various assholes scaring kids and getting curbstomped by a FRICKING IRON GIANT, or tackled by a swarm of angry tonberries (1/?, sorry this might be LONG

lark1537 said: (2/?) bc the daemons know Pretty Song; and know that humans hurt her, even if she never said (they see how she stiffens when she hears humans, or they're near towns, and most of them have little enough Thirst now that they don't need to eat humans and the only reason they try is bc HOW DARE YOU SCARE PRETTY SONG, but Pretty Song doesn't want that so they listen to her); and this small human isn't Pretty Song but they are small and scared like she was when they first met her before she knew them

lark1537 said: (3/?) And they will not let anyone hurt another small-human, even if they don't sing. This also leads to me thinking abt children being the first humans to befriend no-longer-Thirsty daemons, bc they're young enough not to have learned to always be scared of daemon-looking creatures, even if they seem nice (bc no parent thought a daemon would seem nice, or could come out in the light); and bc the daemons are already predisposed to like small-humans, bc of Pretty Song

lark1537 said: (4/?) And THAT led to me imagining a parent somewhere in rural Lucis having their toddler come tell them abt the "big puppy" Big Sib is playing with outside, and said parent nearly having a heart attack when they come check it out and find their 10 yr old using a basketball to play fetch with a Cerberus, who is being very careful not to knock over a tree with how hard their tail is wagging, and occasionally tries to catch it with all three heads at once. And THAT image led to me thinking abt all

lark1537 said: (5/?) The daemons that are self-aware/sapient, or at least implied to be (Melusine, that talking Naga, Iedolas-the-Foras) and the ones that seem humanlike enough that it's tough to believe they don't have enough of their humanity left to talk (Arachne, Ronin) being freed from the Thirst that clouded their thoughts and made them more animalistic and essentially being nocturnal, magical, maybe-immortal people.

lark1537 said: (6/?) How would Lucis even deal with having a new group of self aware residents that previously didn't exist? Would Thirst-healed sapient daemons be counted as citizens? Does killing them count as murder? What abt daemons who were turned recently enough that they can still remember some of what they were, like Ravus? Would some of them go back to their old families? I hope so, bc that opens up the possibility of a kid hitching a ride on a half-spider lady and telling concerned

lark1537 said: (7/?) onlookers not to worry, this is her big sister, yeah she looks scary but as long as you don't wake her up before noon and don't complain abt the cobwebs she's really nice! And she's great at knitting! And just think abt how awesome an integrated daemon-human civilization could be! Chocobo ranchers having tonberries watch their flock at night & paying them in new materials to stab, or asking them to help with cooking. Iron giants helping out friendly farmers with the heavy lifting, or being

lark1537 said: (8/?) rescue ppl from a cave in. A kid with a pet/friend bomb who lights up at night to help them not be afraid of the dark, like a sentient nightlight. Mindflayers working at vet offices to calm unruly/dangerous patients with their gas. PEOPLE RIDING MICTLANTECIHUATL. On that note, would half-daemonic creatures like the bloodhorn or mictlantecihuatl who are just daemonized enough to be dangerous be altered by the lack of Thirst? They'd probably be

lark1537 said: (9/9) similar to Ardyn or Titus, who are both calmed by music, and are something more than just human, at this point. Maybe they'd be just aware enough that they could be interacted with more easily, like the intelligence of a dog or crow, rather than a human. Sorry this got so long, I started thinking and I think my latent childhood dreams of having a talking dragon took over. I just really love the idea of nonhuman people interacting with humans peacefully, and the resulting worldbuilding.

Me:

Okay so- WOW this is a long ask XDD. This was a blast to read. You rolled with this SO MUCH FARTHER than I anticipated/had thought of my self but all of this is GLORIOUS and I’m just gonna- bask in it for a few minutes. I have no idea if this is canon for Pretty Song verse but it PROBABLY IS because it’s glorious. Okay so-

It’s definitely an ... adjustment period for people and daemons a like, with semi-sapient (or fully sapient if in some cases) new neighbors being a Thing. The kiddos are totally the first to figure these facts out and take advantage because they find three headed fire dogs of death to be cool rather than terrifying.

Daemons are totally instinctive protectors of kiddos. That’s a new thing now. They do it on behalf of Pretty Song.

From there you have researchers like Sania who are FASCINATED by the sudden change and want to know the catalyst and how smart are these new daemons and ohhhhh you like MUSIC okay (Sania ends up spending like- a month in the wilds following this one lone Ronin who gets INCREASINGLY EXASPERATED over this human’s lack of self-preservation until he’s like “screw it this is my human now”.)

Pffffft I love the mental imagery of this. Just- “I found a puppy! Can I keep it?” Said puppy wags its tail as all three heads happily drool lava on the lawn.

I ADORE THIS??? Just- not all daemons were people once, a LOT were animals, but some of the ones that were people wake up with like- patchy memories and they’ve been daemons so long they can’t remember to be distressed that they aren’t HUMAN but- but they remember families and loved ones and so they tentatively trickle back.

And oh boy picture the REVELATION that rocks the world when this starts happening. The realization that some daemons used to be PEOPLE and now they’re coming back. And I’m sure I could make that super angsty but I won’t. Instead we shall all enjoy the mental picture of a little boy who wished on a star for his missing dad to come back one day opening the door to find a Yojimbo crouched there, shyly holding a poorly wrapped present that he promised his son years ago and the kid is like “MOM DAD’S BACK!” And there is much hugging and crying and the happily wearing of his dad’s giant daemon hat.

It’s a really, really good thing that Regis is the king and Pretty Song is his best friend’s daughter, because as soon as this becomes a Thing Regis is there running damage control, passing laws on daemon protections and rights and how to go about properly dealing with them if they actually perform a crime that isn’t straight murder of every daemon in the area, how to test if these are sentient daemons or the semi-sapient kind etc, etc. He knows it will take a while for society to acclimate to the changes, but curse it all he is GOING to have the groundwork already laid out.

The rest of the world thinks Lucis is crazy at first, but then there’s Weskham, happily hiring several Master Tonberry to work as chefs under him in Altissia and it’s WORKING and more and more daemons are waking up from the Thirst even though no one knows HOW at this point so the rest of the world had better get with the program man.

I think the half-turned ones actually revert? Like- they only stay daemon if they’ve been fully converted, otherwise they slowly revert back to their original state as the Scourge loses more and more of its potency. Ardyn is technically a “full daemon” even if he kept his human shape thanks to his healing magic so he doesn’t revert, but he is fascinated when he and the rest of the daemons all seem to take a collective chill pill.

Cor totally gives Noctis a Cerberi puppy as a present btw. He just- he SO DOES. Regis is Not Best Pleased.

I love the idea of nonhuman/human integrated society too! It’s really cool. Tonberry chefs and various aids/adjustments for beings with extra limbs/odd body shapes. Ronin and Yojimbo who work with the Hunter corps, Bombs that patrol towns at night like the neighborhood watchdogs, goblins getting to work in their mines rather than just be bored in them, Naga nannies (or daemon nannies in general because all the reformed daemons in this verse are MAJORLY protective of kiddos)- it’s a fun thought!

Pretty Song has no idea just how big of a revolution she spawned with just some pretty music and a lot of courage XDD.

#SE asks #lark1537 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Pretty Song verse

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doginshoe · 5 years

Text

What You’d Do To Me Tonight

summary: Lucy had been in a blooming high school romance, but now that the love has wilted between her and her husband, she searches for a solace. However, she finds it in an already broken man that manages to set her alight in more ways then one. When her secrets spill, she finds her world begins to crumble from beneath her feet as the two men in her life torture her already broken heart.

warnings/contains: mentions of smut & domestic violence

part 1 __

He thrusted into her one last time before coming undone, a moan leaving her lips as he roughly pulled himself out and rolled to the side of the bed. Their chest heaving as they tried to catch their breath.

“You’re still on that pill, right?” Her partner asked and Lucy could only laugh as she kicked off the blankets, ready to stumble over to the bathroom to clean herself up.

“You ask that now?”

“Wait, I told you-”

“Natsu,” she sighed as she peered at him from over her shoulder, “Yes. I’m still on the pill.”

He grinned as he watched her stand and walk to the door leading into his small dingy bathroom, her backside still bright red from their earlier activities. “Thank god.”

Lucy gave a light chuckle as she turned on the shower head before grimacing at the sticky liquid between her thighs. It was only a quick rinse and by the time she came back, drying herself with one of the man’s few towels, Natsu was already settled on the side of the bed and liting up a cigarette from his nearly empty pack. He took a long drag before blowing the smoke from his lungs and then downing the remaining whiskey he couldn’t finish before they had started.

She rolled her eyes before grabbing her underwear having given up on lecturing him about his many bad habits. He would only scoff, not paying any mind to her words. As she pulled on her jeans he turned to her with a raised brow.

“Leaving already?”

It was like this a lot of the time. A quick visit after work to loosen up her tight muscles, forget about everything, and unwind then she would be off. It was never anything more between them and she was ok with that. Natsu had been clear that he didn’t need another woman in his life ‘bossing him around.’ The conversation about them being anything more was clipped and swept under the bed. She sent him a quick smile as she buttoned up her shirt and grabbed her bag.

“Yeah. I’ve got some things to do at home.”

He frowned and stood before she could make her move to the door, another cloud of smoke filling the air before he spoke. “You needa ride?”

Lucy dug into her bag and pulled out her keys. “I’m covered,” She grinned, “Beside’s I wouldn’t go near your death trap that you call transport.” Natsu snorted and she thought that would be the end of it but he seemed to have other ideas as he walked to his dresser.

“There’s nothing wrong with my bike. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

“Your neighbours are going to have a heart attack if they see you walk out like that.” She gestured to his junk that was still out in the open for the world to see, but he only waved her away as he pulled in a breath from his cigarette and opened up his draws.

As he pulled out the smoke from in between his lips he grabbed for his loose jeans. “I’m not gonna give the old folks a heart attack, Smart ass. Just let me put these on,” he quipped as he stepped into the loose denim and lead her out the door.

“My, my you’re becoming quite the gentleman, Natsu Dragneel. To think I used to have to just dress myself and find my way to the door without an escort,” She said while forcing out a dramatic tone, a small smile pulling up on her lips. “Tragic.”

“Sometimes, Luce, I think all those books really do something funny to ya head.”

“I could say the same about that stick of cancer hanging out your mouth.”

“Hey!” He gave her a look as he opened up front door, “They don’t do anything to my head.”

Lucy stepped past him into the chilled air as she kept his gaze, spinning on her heel to face him. “Could’ve fooled me,” she answered, barely suppressing another laugh as he narrowed his eyes at her, trying to muster the scowl that sent men reeling, yet the tell tale sign of the twitch in his cheek gave him away. Natsu could never fool anyone.

“If you keep making that face it’ll get stuck!”

Natsu smirked, the facade dropping in an instance. “Tell me again, Luce. Are you sure you weren’t raised by old women?” His smile grew ten times as he spoke each word before he dropped his finished smoke to smother it into the ground.

Now was the time for her eyes to narrow as she slapped his shoulder. Natsu taking a step back and raising his hands to protect himself at her weak hit, his chuckle filling her ears. No matter what he always knew the ways to get under her skin and push her buttons. She always had to remind herself why she ever came and saw him, yet the answer was so sad that she could never dwell on it too long.

“My humour is just fine, thank you very much. Now if you excuse me I’ll be on my way,” she spoke before turning away, head tilted into the air. She didn’t get far before Natsu was pulling her back into his arms. She gasped as he grabbed her but settled into the warm embrace anyways as he held her.

“Drive safe,” he breathed as he placed a quick kiss to the side of her head that made Lucy’s cheeks warm. A soft smile made its way on her face as she enjoyed their contact. Sometimes, only sometimes, would Lucy revel in this feeling. It had been so long after all that she had a sweet touch, but she knew it would never work. She quickly pulled away, her fingers lingering on his as she turned back to him.

“I will.”

With that she let go and made her way to the car. As she pulled open the door and turned back to look up at his porch, he had already made his way inside and Lucy sighed as she climbed into the vehicle parked in their driveway. With a quick look to the time she cursed as she realised she was running late, her hands quickly turning the keys and putting her foot down to reverse out. He wasn’t going to be happy.

She tried her best to speed home. Yet, her shaking hands had the itch to turn around. Lucy could only hope he hadn’t been drinking again. He was worse when he was drinking. She gulped as she pulled into her own driveway. His car was already there, which she expected, but a small part of her hoped it wouldn’t. He had gone out to the pub, to the bookie, anything.

A defeated sigh left her lips as she turned off the car and grabbed her bag. She checked herself over in the mirror, peering at her neck especially. Natsu always had a habit of leaving unwanted marks even though she had told him that she didn’t like it. That had been a lie, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason - that she had another man to hide them from.

She shook her head to relieve herself of the guilt that had clung to her bones. Ever since the first night she had laid with Natsu, it had wound itself in her lungs and nearly suffocated her when she tried to sleep. He was just so addicting. The way he touched her, his delicate fingers, the way he made her laugh like there was nothing wrong in her life. With him she could forget and that was all she ever wanted. Lucy quickly rubbed at her eyes - It was something she could think about at another time. As she stepped out the car she forced her legs to move, but she had barely made it two steps before he opened the door.

“Where have you been?” He snapped, his dark eyes glaring at her as she made her way towards him.

Lucy held onto her bag a little tighter as she looked up at him, immediately bringing her gaze to the door behind him. “I was kept at work,” she mumbled, bringing her stare back to the man she had married.

“That’s the third time this week.”

Lucy shot him a filthy look before she pushed past him, whispering under her breath as she passed him, “That’s what happens when you have a job.”

As she made her way to the kitchen the front door slammed behind her and she froze. She didn’t want to turn around. If she ignored him he would leave her alone. If she made the excuse she was tired then she could stay in the room, pretend to sleep when he came up to bed. Nothing would happen tonight.

Many times Lucy was wrong.

“You stink of smoke.”

Lucy mentally cursed Natsu and his hotbox of a home. She should’ve sprayed herself with perfume before she got out of the car. The blonde dropped her bag on the kitchen counter as she wondered to the fridge, hoping to cut off the conversation as soon as possible.

“Did you hear me?” He called, voice getting louder as he stepped closer to her. “I’m talking to you.”

“It must have been from someone who I was talking to after-”

She could barely finish her sentence as he grabbed ahold of her hair, pulling at the long tresses and forcing her to face him. His eyes were alight with anger as he put his face in front of hers. Lucy swallowed.

“Who?” he spat.

“It was just a quick conversation, I swear!” she raised her hands to his as tears gathered in her eyes. “Please stop. It hurts, Jackal.” She tried to pry his hold on her hair but when he dropped his grasp a slap followed his movements.

Her head snapped to the side, the sting tingling her face but she refused to look at him, or let the tears fall down her cheeks. He grabbed onto her arm, squeezing it until the hold turned bruising.

“You’re an ugly slut,” he seethed as he pushed himself into her face, the smell of alcohol on his breath burning in her nose. “You hear me? Don’t you ever think you can lie to me!”

Lucy’s lower lip trembled as he shouted in her ear, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her arm. She didn’t dare speak, not that the lump in her throat would ever allow anything but sobs and screams to leave her lips. It would only make him angrier if she spoke. She had learned that the hard way when he had first hit her. They were barely twenty years old and having a stupid argument. When Lucy yelled at him, her anger getting the better of her, he had thrown a frying pan at her head. The cooking utensil barely missing her by an inch as it slammed against the wall. She had screamed at him, nearly packing her things but he had stopped her. His hand around her throat before pushing her into a side table and knocking her mother's favourite vase to the floor - one of the few things she had left of her smashing on impact and cutting Lucy’s hands.

She had kept quiet for the next five years.

He grabbed her face, violently turning it to so her brown eyes could gaze at the man she thought she loved. His eyes were blazing as he growled at her, “I know what you’re up to,” he spat in her face as he pushed her backwards. Her body slamming into the fridge as a choked sob left her lips. “You better be home tomorrow.”

Lucy could only nod meekly as she pushed herself up and wiped the spit from her cheek. He walked away from her, grabbing a half finished beer bottle from the table and walking to the living room. She wasted no time in running up the stairs to their bedroom and locking the door behind her.

The tears trickled down her face as she sunk to the floor. Her cheek where he had slapped her was still red, the skin sensitive and hot. She desperately rubbed at her eyes as she breathed in deep breaths. However, Lucy’s eyes were blank as she stared straight ahead. The only sign of emotion being the shake of her shoulders or the wet drops that she had missed.

What her brown eyes couldn’t tear her eyes from was the picture of her wedding day. She was beaming at the camera, her white dress still on as they had photographs in the gardens. Her father was beside her, his tired eyes managing to smile at the camera as he was seated in his wheelchair.

He had been incredibly happy for her. His baby girl growing up and finding a nice guy when she was only sixteen. The wedding being held as soon as they had graduated. Jackal’s future was always promising. He was taken in when he was only a child by his uncle who was a wealthy businessman and a good friend of her fathers. He was meant to inherit the company. Jude had always said ‘that boy will grow into a fine man one day.’ A bitter smile pulled at her lips as she realised how wrong her dad had been.

Her father had passed not long after the wedding. Six months of continuous heart problems that left him so exhausted he could barely get out of bed. He never saw Jackal when he had started to gamble, or when he had been disowned by his uncle. Her husband burned through more money then they could make, finishing her inheritance in a few short years. If it wasn’t for the house they brought when they had first moved out, she was sure they’d be homeless.

Even now they struggled. He spent his time guzzling drink after drink - either in front of their TV at home, or in the pub. She often wondered what her father would say now. He’d tried his hardest, working day and night, to give her an easier life. Yet now she could barely make ends meet as she was overdue on bills and had notices piling up in her mailbox of debts that needed to be paid. What she would often think about more is what her mother would think. If she was disappointed that her daughter was creeping around with another man.

A sigh left her lips as she continued to sit on the floor, her hands scratching at her thighs through her jeans as she was lost in thought.

She knew her mother would be most upset about her dead eyes. The way she could rarely give a smile these days. She had only wanted Lucy to be happy.

___

I never uploaded the full version of this because I was nervous but I’m releasing part 2 soon so I thought I might as well.

#fairy tail #fairytail #nalu #Nalu fanfic #Nalu fanfiction #angst #tw: abuse #natsu dragneel #ft jackal #Lucy heartfilia #my writing #What you'd do to me tonight #doginshoe #hints of smut

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floatingpetals · 5 years

Text

Boys in Blue || Pt. 3

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: none, maybe language

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: This chapter I had to separate because it got way too long. So I have the next part done lol. and yes, the reader likes to name people puns on her phone. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Series Masterlist

Y/N woke the next morning to a slight headache, a dry mouth and a nagging feeling she had done something stupid. She couldn’t really remember what exactly, it was all a blur. She remembered drinking, Maria being a pain, and fates idea of humor. It wasn’t until she rolled over and looked at her cellphone that it hit her. She gave her number to Bucky and Steve last night.

Well ‘gave’ was a loose term. She more or less threw it at them before bolting out the bar like a wuss. And staring back at her was a notification from an unknown number and a sweet little message.

(Unknown Number)-Morning, doll. How you feelin’ this morning?

(Unknown Number)-It’s Bucky btw

Staring blearily at the words, Y/N felt a scream bubble up her throat, stopping just short of exploding from her lips. Oh dear God, what did Maddie make her do? Sitting up, she sent a frantic text to Maddie.

(Y/N) -DUDE?!

(Y/N)-WHAT THE HELL?!

(Y/N)-YOU MADE ME GIVE THEM THE NUMBER AND NOW BUCKY’S TEXTING ME!

Maddie was quick to respond, but with less intensity.

(Madaroni 🍝)-The horror. How dare a man attracted to you, that has your number, text you back.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Grow some balls, and text him back.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Who knows, maybe you’ll get to see his.

(Y/N)- Dear god.

(Y/N)- Married life sure has made you a little vulgar, hasn’t it?

(Madaroni 🍝)- Jason likes it. That’s why he married me.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Just text him back. It’s nbd

(Y/N)- … What do I say?

There wasn’t a reply, instead, her phone lit up, Maddie’s name lit up on her screen. Quickly answering the call, Y/N bit her lip.

“Alright. When did you become some a little brat?”

“I just woke up.” Y/N huffed. “You could be nicer.”

“I’d be nicer if you’d stop freaking out over a guy,” Maddie replied drying. In the background, Y/N could make out the soft babbling of baby Lexi. “Listen, they both like you. You have nothing to be worried about. You’ve already yelled at them before they even knew your name, and they still shamelessly flirted with you. Honestly, I’m a little jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” Y/N asked in disbelief.

“Hell yeah!” Maria laughed humorlessly. “I mean, I love Jason. But If I was single and had not one, but two Greek Gods practically salivating over me, I’d never let them go.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes feeling much more relaxed than five minutes ago. Maddie had that way about her. She’d didn’t sugar coat things and called Y/N out for letting her anxiety take over. If it weren’t Maddie, Y/N would probably be a hermit with a handkerchief, a chip and a penny as friends. Or at the very least would have an incredibly boring social life.

“You’re right.” Y/N let out a heavy breath. Maddie laughed.

“Duh. You’d think you’d learn that by now.”

“I know. I know.” Y/N groaned and fell back against her pillows to stare at her ceiling. “I should text him back.”

“Yeah, you should. Just don’t worry too much about it. They’ve seen you at your potential worse, and they still like you enough to stick around at the bar.” Maddie said gently. “You got this.”

“Thanks, Maddie.” Y/N said. “Love you. Give the babies kisses from their Auntie.”

“Love you too, Y/N. I’ll give them all the kisses. And don’t forget to tell me all the details later!”

Y/N giggled and hung up. She opened her messenger app, staring blankly at the message. Letting out a sigh, she started typing.

(Y/N)- Hey! A little fuzzy, but I’m all good.

(Y/N)- Let Steve know, Drunk Y/N listened and put water and pills beside my bed.

(Y/N)- She did not, however, remember to change into pjs.

She winced at how absolutely dorky that sounded, but it was too late now. Bucky didn’t take long, less than a minute later messaged back.

(B.B. Gunn)- Glad you’re doin’ okay. You worried us somethin’ happened last night when you came back.

(B.B. Gunn)- I was a little relieved when it was just to give us your number.

(B.B. Gunn)- Lol gotta give her an ‘a’ for effort. At least she tried.

(Y/N)- Yeah, Maddie kind of held a ride home over my head if I didn’t. And drunk me tried to keep my best interest in mind.

It took him longer this time, making Y/N worried she said something wrong. Decided to get up and at least brush her teeth while she waited, Y/N headed to the bathroom. Right as she [ut her toothbrush in her mouth, Bucky text back.

(B.B. Gunn)- Oh. So you didn’t want us to have your number?

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. No, that wasn’t it at all! Holding the toothbrush between her back teeth, Y/N furiously text back.

(Y/N)- Oh god! I realize how bad that sounded now.

(Y/N)- Yes, I did want you both to have my number. Maddie knew if she didn’t blackmail me, I’d chicken out and not give it to you.

(B.B. Gunn)- Good. I’m glad.

(B.B. Gunn)- I had fun with you last night. So did Steve.

(Y/N)- I’ve been told I’m quiet pleasant when I’m not screaming at people.

Y/N giggled at her joke, finishing brushing her teeth before heading to her kitchen. Apparently, drunk her even set up her coffee pot to auto start, coffee filter and all. Thank God, she thought, at least I remembered the filter, unlike last time.

(B.B. Gunn)- 😂

(B.B. Gunn)- Yeah, that was a nice change of pace, fs.

(B.B. Gunn)- So Steve told me I was crazy, but I don’t really care.

(Y/N)- You’re seeing dead people, aren’t you? GREAT!

(Y/N)- Can you tell my cat from when I was twelve to stop knocking my stuff off tables?”

(B.B. Gunn)- LOL What?!

(B.B. Gunn)- No! That’s not even remotely close to what I was gonna say.

(Y/N)- Aw damn. It’s really becoming a problem.

(B.B. Gunn)- I do want to come back to that later.

(B.B. Gunn)- What I was GONNA say

(B.B. Gunn)- I know it’s crazy to even text someone the very next morning after you get their number.

(B.B. Gunn)- But I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with Steve and me tonight?

Y/N’s stomach flipped, a giddy smile growing on her face. She set her mug down with a giggle and danced in place. Taking a moment to compose herself, she took a gulp from her drink and turned back to her phone. Today was Saturday, which meant she had nothing planned other than cleaning her house and doing laundry.

(B.B. Gunn)- I totally understand if you don’t want too.

(Y/N)- No! I mean, I would totally love too!

(Y/N)- Sorry, I had to get caffeine in me.

(B.B. Gunn)- I completely understand the need for caffeine.

(B.B. Gunn)- But great. We were going to go to this little burger joint down the street that’s got some great food.

(B.B. Gunn)- They also have vegetarian options too if you don’t eat meat.

(Y/N)- Ooh, that sounds good! I’m down.

(B.B Gunn)- Sweet! I’ll let Steve know. He had to go into the station for a few hours today but should be done by 4.

(B.B. Gunn)- Ish.

(Y/N)- lol cool. Just let me know and I’ll meet you both there.

(Y/N)- I should get dressed. I just looked in the fridge and I desperately need to go to the store.

(B.B. Gunn)- Steve says he’s on board, but I’m still crazy.

(B.B. Gunn)- You should probably go to the store then. I’m about to head to the gym.

(Y/N)- Have fun with that. I’m gonna go get chips and candy to pig out for you.

(B.B. Gunn)- Lol dork. Don’t fill up on that before dinner.

(Y/N)- Thanks, Dad.

Y/N set her phone down on her desk and went to her closet, picking through what little she had left. She made a note to throw her clothes in the wash before she left to the store. But first, a list for the store. She glanced at her phone once she stepped out of her closet. Bucky hadn’t replied yet. Shrugging, Y/N went into the kitchen to start up her list.

Twenty minutes later, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse. Her phone chimed, both a message for Bucky and Maddie. Deciding she’d call Maddie back once at the store, she opened Bucky’s first.

(B.B. Gunn)- I would make a comment, but I don’t think we’re there for that level of jokes yet. 😉

(B.B. Gunn)- I’ll let you know when Steve’s off and then we can meet up.

(Y/N)- Sweet. I’ve gotta drive now, so I’ll text you later.

(Y/N)- Also, what joke?

(B.B. Gunn)- Don’t worry about it. 😘

(B.B. Gunn)- Drive safe! Ttyl

Y/N shook her head and slipped her phone back in her purse. Climbing into her car, she headed off to the store humming a happy tune. Even though she didn’t think this was a date, she had dinner plans with two incredibly handsome men.

It still did strike her as a little odd how Bucky talked about Steve. It was almost like they lived either together, or next door with how up to date he was on Steve’s location. But then again, she was close to Maddie and knew where she was most days, so it could very well just be like that. Either way, Bucky seemed like an easy-going guy with a sense of humor. From what she learned of Steve, he seemed similar to Bucky, just a tad quieter. Y/N wondered if he had her number too. She hadn’t heard from him yet.

Ignoring the slight disappointment, she pulled into the store parking lot. It wasn’t until she started walking the aisle that it hit her, she was going to have dinner with two nice cops that were both incredibly attractive. And she’d made an idiot of herself twice. Maybe they had a weird sense of humor and wanted to see how far she went? No, she reasoned, they were grown ass men. Why’d they waste their time and do that?

Okay, she thought, I’m freaking out for no reason. I need to just chill, get my groceries and go home to get ready. Shaking her head in the produce aisle, Y/N let out a sigh and grabbed a couple apples. Yep, she’s gonna worry about it later and ignore her stupid anxiety. She was going to have a nice time and enjoy her evening with them. She wasn’t going to be an idiot tonight. She hoped.

Perma Tag: (CLOSED)

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(Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

Boys in Blue Taglist: (CLOSED!!!)

@debgreenleaf / @thorins-queen-of-erebor / @merigoldcaroline / @urbanrights / @taliarosej00 / @stuckysheart / @thenightkillers / @desertrose-saku / @weyheycraicey / @apocalypse-zombiie /

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 5 years

Text

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 13)

Bit of a long one for you guys!

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Daryl’s brain slowly roused from sleep, in that halfway space between being awake and being asleep. He groaned softly as a jolt went straight to his dick, one that reverberated throughout his entire body. He tightened his arm around something, his brain was too fuzzy to make sense of anything. His eyes fluttered open and his body went rigid when he realised that something was Charlene. He was spooning her from behind and the jolt of pleasure was because he was fucking humping her ass like a damn dog. He held his breath, stock-still as he waited for her to start shouting, turn around and smack him or something for being such a creep. But a soft snore left her lips and he breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing as he realised she was asleep, none the wiser to what a fucking perv he was.

She started stirring in his arms and he panicked. His instinct was to recoil from her, fucking run and dive out the damn window and never show his face again. But he knew if he pulled away now, it would look weird, so instead, he feigned sleep. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing down, trying to act like he wasn't awake, like he hadn't been rubbing his morning wood against that pretty ass and that he wasn't a creep. He heard her yawn, yet she made no move to get away from him. Then he felt her hand come to lay over his that was splayed on her belly. It was then he noticed his hand was under her shirt, splayed on the soft bare flesh on her stomach and his throat tightened, his heart beating even faster in his chest. He was sure she’d be able to feel the fucking thing as it wildly thumped against his chest. She was stroking his hand, laying there seemingly relaxed and his brain was short-circuiting. Why hadn't she moved away? Why was so she relaxed lay with him touching her like that like it was normal? It didn't compute in his head, not against the facts that he already knew. That he was redneck trash, a Dixon and no woman that was in her right mind and sober would ever give him the time of day, and certainly not one as pretty as Charlene. It was like two jigsaw pieces that just wouldn't fit together as the facts in his brain wouldn't mesh with the girl just lay there stroking his hand.

His brain just melted, he no longer had a brain and he switched off, just laying here pretending to be asleep. Soon enough, his eyes started to get heavy again as he just enjoyed the sensation of holding her, of feeling her skin under his hand. This was the closest he had ever been to her and he was soaking up every damn second of it. When he woke again it was around an hour later and this time he was alone. He frowned a little as he rubbed his eyes, sitting up and glancing around. He was a little glad she wasn't here so he wouldn't feel so awkward about what he had done earlier, but he also hated waking up without her. If my brain could just take a fuckin’ chill pill for a second, that would be great…

He got up, stuffing his boots on before trudging out of the room. The treehouse was eerily quiet and he squinted, looking around and seeing no sign of Merle or the girl. He walked out to the decking, looking over the rails and he saw them in the huge garden. It looked like Merle had spray-painted a target on the side of the wooden shed and he was getting Charlene to throw her knife at it. She didn't look happy at all and from what he could see, her aim was god awful. He climbed down the ladder and made his way over to them.

“I don't wanna do this anymore Merle, I can’t do it!” Charlene huffed, almost whining as she glared at the older brother.

“Ya can’t do it if ya don’t practice! So quit ya whinin’ and throw the damn knife again!” Merle barked, all business it seemed. Daryl was well aware his brother could be a hard ass. He had grown up with his brother riding his ass since he was a young boy, busting his balls to ‘make him a man’.

“It's stupid!” Charlene glowered, actually stomping her foot and Daryl snorted, drawing attention to him as he stood there.

“Daryl please! Tell him to leave me alone! I can’t do it,” she whined, looking at him with wide eyes all innocent-like. Daryl smirked, crossing his broad arms across his chest as he quirked a brow at her. He knew she was pulling the same shit she did over the damn peaches, batting her lashes at him like he would just give in.

“Daryl ain't gonna tell me shit little lady. Throwin’ a knife ain't stupid, it's a good skill to have. Ya can’t shoot a gun yet and sometimes it's best to keep distance ‘tween you and the dead fucks, unless ya want ‘em to take a chunk outta ya ass. So get the knife and throw it again!” Merle ordered harshly, glaring at her. Daryl raised his brows with a nod, his brother made a good point. It was also useful to hunt with sometimes, watching a squirrel running up a tree, just throw the fucking knife at it and bam, you got dinner.

She turned her big green eyes back to him then and he looked at her amused and shook his head.

“Nah, I ain't gettin’ involved. He’s right Tiny, ya need to learn this shit. Just keep practisin’ a bit,” Daryl insisted, making her groan and squeeze her eyes shut. Daryl walked over to the picnic table in the garden next to them, sitting on the top of it so he could observe her, give her any pointers if he needed to. After a few more failed attempts it was clear that even though Merle was riding her ass hard, he wasn't really showing her how to do it right and Daryl started getting aggravated.

“Shit Merle, why ya gettin’ her to throw it by the blade? It's a bowie knife, she needs to throw it from the handle since its blade heavy,” Daryl sighed like it was obvious. Both Charlene and Merle turned their eyes to him and he smirked a little by his brother's annoyed face, like he was stepping on his toes by giving actual helpful advice.

“The handle?” Charlene asked, making him nod. She nibbled her lip before turning back around, holding the handle now instead of the blade and when she threw it, it hit the edge of the target. A huge improvement from it flying right over the damn thing like every other shot she had made. Merle sneered, making Daryl snort a laugh at him, feeling his own chest swelling with a little pride that he had been useful.

He stood up, walking over as she went to grab the knife again. When she came back, he stood behind her to the side, gripping her wrist.

“Ya wanna lock ya wrist a little, make sure its a smooth release. Ya gotta stop thinkin’ about it as throwin’ a knife. Just let ya hand slide off the knife as ya follow it through,” he instructed, letting go of her wrist and standing back a little. She nodded, looking deep in concentration, exhaling a deep breath. Daryl and Merle watched her as she took another shot, trying to listen to Daryl's advice. Once again it was closer to the centre of the target. She beamed a smile looking so proud of herself it was fucking adorable.

“See, there ya go. Ol’ Merle came through for ya, told ya if ya practised ya could do it,” Merle grinned, looking all smug. Daryl squinted at him and shook his head.

“Ol’ Merle? Ol’ Merle did fuck all. She couldn't throw worth shit until I came out here and told her how to do it right,” He snorted loudly, making Charlene bite her lower lip so she didn't laugh. She liked it when the brothers did this playful banter. It was rare, usually it was serious insults.

“Hold on there a damn second sleepin’ beauty. I wasn't the one up there snorin’ away. I was down here with her teachin’ her useful shit,” Merle huffed as he pulled a face at his brother.

“I might have been sleepin’ but I still managed to come down here and help her throw right in a few seconds,” Daryl smirked at him, enjoying rubbing it in his face.

“Ah go fuck yaself ya little shit head,” Merle scoffed.

“You both helped, so thank you,” Charlene finally spoke up, retrieving the knife and putting it on the belt Merle had given her.

“She’s just sayin’ that so she don’t hurt ya feelin’s,” Daryl grinned, a small laugh escaping his lips when Merle swatted him on the back of the head. It was nice like this, just having a laugh, no drama or tension, no usual bullshit.

Around lunch and Daryl was sat on the end of a huge ass bed, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Charlene as she rummaged through the closet excitedly. Daryl and Merle had cleared the main house. There were no biters since the family that lived here had met their demise in the treehouse, and if they were all honest, they were curious how the folk on the other side of the tracks lived. They wouldn't sleep in here, the treehouse was still safer with how high up it was, but it didn't mean they couldn't scavenge the place and just enjoy what shit these people once had. Merle was of course in the kitchen, Daryl wondered if he was still looking for the fancy-ass champagne his brother couldn't even pronounce.

“Ohhh! Fancy!” Charlene cooed, still in the closet as Daryl’s lips tugged into a smile. He found her adorable, he was quite content with just sitting there and watching her get excited by clothes. She pulled out a floor-length black dress on the hanger, turning around and holding it in front of her.

“Pretty right?” she grinned, making him swallow thickly as his eyes looked her up and down, imagining just what that dress would look like on her.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not really talking about the dress but she didn't fucking know, so it didn't matter. She turned back around, looking some more and Daryl was back to watching her.

“A man of so many words,” she snorted to herself, making him squint playfully at her even though she wasn't even looking at him.

“Be glad I don't talk too much like Merle,” he said, smirking when she glanced over her shoulder at him with a horrified expression. Merle talked enough for the fucking three of them and then some.

She moved to face him, leaning against the door frame as she smiled at him.

“I remember the time you spoke more than like two words to me for the first time, do you remember?” she asked with a snort. He felt his ears burn bright as he lowered his head, like fuck he could forget that. He didn’t know what to make of her remembering it though, it made his stomach feel all weird that she would remember that kind of thing, like it meant something. He found himself smiling a little, trying to fight it so he didn't sit there with a huge grin on his face whilst she was watching him. He couldn't help but think back to that time though, it was the time when he realised just how much he fucking liked her.

Daryl sat in the diner on his own. Merle was doing a stint in prison which meant Daryl was actually holding down a job for once as a mechanic. He was on his lunch break and of course, he came here. He chewed his thumb as he looked over at her. Charlene. He didn't remember a clear distinction between never really seeing her around and then her suddenly being everywhere. She was just there, no matter where he went. He couldn't escape her. He hadn't known who she was at first. She was just a pretty little thing but he always found himself bitter, bitter of his cursed name and the fact that no one like her would ever give him the time of day. She was always nice to him though, polite and smiley, like she didn’t know who he was even though he knew it wasn't true.

Before Merle got put away again, he had been harassing her every damn day, and whenever Daryl was with him he wished the ground would swallow him whole. She never complained though, she took it like a fucking champ until Merle left and he wondered just how she did it. She seemed less tense when he came in the store or diner on his own and he was glad. He didn't want her thinking he was like his asshole brother. They had a few mutual friends and that's how he learnt her name was Charlene, learnt that she was busting her ass off to keep her head above water since her dad had become a worthless drunk. She became more than a pretty face then, but still, the bitterness never left. He knew she was only ever nice because she was being paid to do so, she wouldn't ever think about him the way he did her, not unless she was being given money for it. He hadn't ever really spoke to her. In the store he was silent, never returning her cheery smile. And then when he came here, he would order his food and that was it. He didn't feel worthy to breathe the same air as her, let alone fucking talk to her.

He saw her making her way over to his table and he swallowed thickly, glancing down as he drummed his fingers on the table. Her long hair was down today and it always got to him when she did that. She was wearing a little black skirt and t-shirt with ‘Loretta’s’ written on it, an apron tied around her tiny little waist.

“Hey Daryl, you want the usual?” she asked, her usual bright smile in place. It always unnerved him how she said his name like that. He hadn't ever fucking introduced himself to her and god only knew what she had heard about him if she knew his name.

“Yeah,” he stated gruffly, chancing a look at her as she scribbled his order on the pad. She always remembered his fucking order, but he knew it was her job, it didn't make him special. She was just a good waitress.

“How’s Merle doing?” she asked, nibbling her lower lip and making him look away as he tensed. Anytime anyone mentioned his brother it would get his back up instantly.

“The fuck do you care?” he huffed, regretting it instantly, he hadn't ever given her attitude before.

He looked up at her and she shrugged, giving him a weak smile and he wanted to punch himself in the fucking face.

“He’s annoying but prison can be rough,” was all she supplied, looking nervous now as she toyed with the pad in her hands. He hated how he fucking took that bright smile right off her face, that she seemed like she didn't know how to act around him now.

“It’ll be out in a few,” she smiled weakly when he hadn't said another word, scurrying off to the back to place the order. He heaved a sigh, leaning back in the seat with a groan. Why did he have to fuck things up? He sat there brooding, his mood getting worse by the second as he waited for his food. He saw her coming out again with his plate and drink, walking over.

“One cheeseburger and a cup of coffee. Let me know if you need anything else,” she smiled, but he frowned when she placed another plate down as well as his burger.

“The fucks this? I didn't order no cake,” he huffed, frowning at her as she blushed slightly.

“I know. Loretta let me make the cake today, thought you might wanna try it. Let me know what you think,” she grinned before waltzing back off. He squinted at the cake like it was some kind of trick, that she had given it to him for some weird horrible reason that he wouldn't like. He huffed as he started to eat his food, his eyes following the girl as she flit around, taking people's orders with a smile. When he finished his food, he eyed the cake, it looked good and he shrugged. He wasn't ever one to turn down free fucking food. The fork she put on the plate for it was left by the wayside as he just picked the slice up and took a big bite. His eyes widened a little, damn it tasted good. It was chocolate but he was sure there were some hazelnuts in there or something. It only took a few bites before it was all gone. He found himself wanting more of it now, it was fucking tasty.

“What did you think?” she asked, startling him a little as she suddenly appeared next to him like a fucking ninja. He cleared his throat, his fingers once again drumming on the table again.

“Was good,” he hated himself. So fucking much. He wanted to tell her it was amazing, that it was the best damn cake he had ever tasted and that Loretta should let her make all the fucking cakes from now on. But no, of course his brain could only handle ‘was good.’ She beamed a smile all the same, looking so pleased with herself that Daryl found it hard not to look at her.

“I’m glad you liked it!” she grinned, taking the empty plates before she was off once more. Daryl watched her go, knowing he needed to get back to work. He always hated these moments when he needed to leave, when she wouldn't be in his line of sight again until the next day.

He waited until she went into the back like he always did before he got up, going over to the counter to pay for his food and leaving her a tip. He always left her a fucking tip. He was about to leave when he was halted in his steps.

“Daryl wait!” she called out, hurrying over to him as he turned around, eyeing her warily. She had a little box in her hand and she held it out to him. When he glanced inside he saw a few more slices of cake.

“I just thought maybe you might want some later,” she shrugged, chewing that damn lip again as she looked up at him with her big green eyes.

“I don't need no fuckin’ charity,” he sneered. Wow, well fuckin’ done. Such a social butterfly… Her eyes widened, looking panicked almost as she shook her head.

“I wasn’t...I didn't mean….” she frowned, and he realised he hadn't ever seen a frown grace that pretty little face and now he was causing it. It made his heart squeeze in his chest as he clenched his jaw. Way to go asshole. He stood there, his mouth not moving as she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. Just say sorry, it ain't hard. It's one fuckin’ word, fuckin’ say it jackass! He worked his jaw, no words seeming to come out no matter how much he knew he should say sorry. He was more stubborn than even he realised.

“Thanks,” he muttered glaring at the floor. Wasn’t what he should have said but at least he got words to fucking leave his mouth.

“It's okay,” she squeaked, giving him a shy smile before she scurried off. He heaved a sigh as he walked out, holding the box as he made his way to the truck. He ended up eating another slice of the cake as he sat in the truck, his brain thinking things he had no place thinking about the girl. How it would be to have her cook for him, what it would be like to catch something and have her cook with it. It made his chest feel warm until he remembered that would never fucking happen, not in his wildest dreams. He growled to himself as he tore out of the little parking lot beside the diner, wondering why he kept going there, wondering why he kept torturing himself like this.

When he came back to the present she was looking through the closet again and he cleared his throat.

“M’sorry, about bein’ an asshole that day. Didn't really know how to react. Ain’t exactly used to people bein’ nice,” he admitted gruffly, picking at the dirt under his nails. She turned to glance at him, her cheeks tinged pink slightly as she shrugged.

“It's fine. Its all in the past now anyway,” she sighed, sounding sad almost and he watched her little furrowed brow before she turned back around. She pulled out another hanger with some fancy three-piece suit on it as she turned around, an impish grin on her face.

“You should wear this,” she smirked, making him scoff and shake his head with a wry smile.

“I look like I wear suits to you?” he asked, giving her an amused look as she snorted.

“Have you ever worn a suit?” she asked curiously, tilting her head as she looked at him.

“Nah, ain't had a reason to,” he shrugged, watching as she turned back around to put it back.

“I think your arms would look amazing in this,” she muttered, her body freezing as soon as she realized she had said that out loud. Her cheeks went crimson and she didn't dare turn around to face him, maybe if she didn't act like she had said it he wouldn't mention it.

Daryl sat there, his jaw slack as he glared at the back of her head. I gotta be hearin’ things right now. Maybe I’m losin’ my damn mind. He just blinked, his brain trying to soak in the words she had just said to him. She had mentioned his arms and shoulders once before in some kind of compliment that he wasn't even sure if it was a compliment or not. He swallowed thickly, feeling that sense of pride he had the last time growing in his chest. He didn't have a clue what to say. Shit, do I thank her? She ain't looked at me since she said it. What if she didn't mean to say it? His mind was in overdrive, not really knowing how to deal with this kind of situation because he wasn't used to it. He’d had a few girls in the past mention his arms but they were always drunk, as was he, and he just presumed they were talking shit for the sake of it. But he knew Charlene wasn't that kind of girl, so why the fuck did she just come out with that?

She stood there, still unable to look at him and she considered climbing in the closet and never coming back out. He hadn’t said a word and she was too embarrassed to look at him. She didn't know why she had to say that, to make him feel awkward. He probably thought she was ridiculous. Where was Merle when you needed him? The silence was tense and thick, both of them not really knowing what to say and feeling their own sense of embarrassment. She knew she needed to swallow her pride if she ever wanted this tension to fucking leave the room.

“I didn't mean to make you feel awkward again. I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she turned around, cheeks still flaming as they looked at each other. He didn't even know what to say. It wasn't that she made him feel awkward, he just didn't know if she meant to say it and how to deal with the fact she said it at all.

“Ya didn't...I ...uh...Thanks? I guess,” he muttered, looking so bewildered. As Charlene looked at him, how he was acting, it suddenly dawned on her that somehow this incredibly attractive man wasn't used to compliments and she was fucking confused as all hell. He looked like a shy boy, not knowing how to deal with it all and she felt bad that she had put him on the spot like this, she felt bad that he was so unused to receiving compliments it reduced him to this.

She knew giving him space was probably the best option, to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I’m gonna go and see what Merle’s up to,” she said softly, giving him a weary smile before she left the room. He just sat on the end of the bed, the closet was now closed and he could see his reflection glaring back at him. She hadn't meant to say it, that was the only logical explanation in his mind as he stared at himself. Self-worth was none existent to Daryl, he was used to it by now, it was just the way his life was. He had come to terms with the fact he meant nothing a long fucking time ago but it had never been such a fucking hard pill to swallow as it was right now. Knowing that what he wanted would never be within his reach. She ain’t ever gonna be interested in a piece of shit like me.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon writing #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #Merle Dixon

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pbandjesse · 5 years

Text

Today was a nice day off but I feel exhausted. I think its because of the emotions tied up in going back to work tomorrow. Im not sure. But im laying in the studio listening to James and his friend playing guitar in the other room. Its really nice but i feel bad I'm not being social. I'm just to tired.

I slept okay last night. James got up before me and made us breakfast. I wore my pretty new dress. It was nice being with James for a little longer. Because while we stayed up snd played a couple games of uno last night we didn't really get much time together. So having a lazy morning together was really nice.

My allergies were bugging me though so I was a bit of a lump by the time he left. I was sad about that and had to take a couple allergy pills and wait an hour for them to kick in. I was in bed until almost noon. Which was not ideal but it was fine.

When i did get up I brushed my teeth again and tried to convince myself to be productive!!! So I did just that. I drew a lot today. I made a card. I found my besr tarot deck and finally sat down and worked on that, and im really proud. Im going to see who I know that has a scanner or go somewhere to make digital files. The library??? Is that a thing?? Regardless I want to make prints. So ill make like a small frame boarder and scan them in that. I'm excited to finish a project I am really proud of. I'll start the next set in the deck soon probably!!

It was a lazy and boring afternoon beyond that. I was just running the clock until 4 when i could start getting ready to leave. I left here and walked to waste more time.

I enjoyed my walk to meet James. Listening to my podcast. Even if it was to hot. I just want it to be fall.

I got to the blick and got the 2 markers I needed. And went across the street to wait for James.

Me and him got together and biked to the ramen place. It was a nice ride and we got there just fine. Our dinner was really good.

We stopped at cvs but didnt get anything. We ended up at rite aid to get cupcakes. Had to wait in the longest line because a man coukdnt decide what cigarettes to buy. Ugh. Whatever.

We got home and had our desserts and soon James's friend and his girlfriend was here!!! I feel bad because I can't get myself to be very social but I'm really enjoying listening to them. I also ran upstairs to hang out with Kimberly for a while to learn what her plants will need. Her pet rat will need some tending to as well. But thats how you make friends!! We sat on thr ground petting the dog and talking. It was nice. Shes a sweetheart with such a good energy.

But I'm chilling back here in the studio. Back to access art tomorrow!! Im excited. I just have to make sure I pack food and snacks because I always think I wont need them and i am always wrong!!!!

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of each other. Goodnight!

#ootd #date #in progress #art #furby #food #sunday #day off

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highwaytosickfics · 6 years

Text

X-Men Evolution sickfic 2

I started making this at midnight yesterday...I’m not sure how qualified it is to be a sickfic, but I know there’s a sick lance in it, so that’s something. It’s from the caretaker’s (aka Todd’s) perspective. It’s kind of a grocery store trip fic with Lance being sick in the background, but I think there’s still something to enjoy there.

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He was standing in the medicine aisle of the local grocery store, calculations going through his mind to figure out how to input this temporary expense. The fluorescent lights above buzz in his ears, along with the sounds of other people chatting in the aisles, cart wheels rattling, and the vague lyrics of an old pop song playing quietly over the speakers. Several rows of colorful boxes are organized in front of him, detailing cures for various symptoms. Todd was concentrating on the migraine medication, mentally listing them by cost and effectiveness. Amazing what a tiny bottle of pills could cost, especially given the Brotherhood’s limited budget.

Almost everyone in the Brotherhood had some form of role in terms of household chores; Lance was the one with the highest success rate of holding down a job, so he was the main breadwinner of the house (one of the many reasons why he was the de facto leader).

Fred also contributed to their legal funds, getting freelance construction jobs from time to time that were really helpful in keeping them out of the red. Fred’s main task in the house, however, was cooking meals, something he unsurprisingly excelled in.

Pietro wasn’t exactly the best at finding work, and his taste in food left something to be desired, so he was in charge of cleaning. It didn’t need to be spotless, none of them were really comfortable with a sterile environment, so there wasn’t really much pressure on the silver speedster; just make sure it wasn’t vermin-friendly and keep stock of cleaning supplies. Pietro got enough pressure from his douche of a dad, so they didn’t feel the need to put much more on his shoulders.

Girls in the Brotherhood...really didn’t do anything. Rogue was long gone before they implemented the house rules, which were put in place following Mystique’s disappearance. Tabby’s powers were more suited for entertainment than anything else, and her impulsiveness made it difficult for them to figure out what she’d be best suited for. Wanda, meanwhile, wasn’t exactly the type to take orders from anyone. She had more pressure on her than Pietro did, so the Brotherhood mainly just let her focus on figuring herself out. There were times when it seemed like she felt isolated from them because of the way they handled her, but some mild teasing usually shook off that temporary insecurity.

Finally, Todd was in charge of finances. While it wasn’t something he talked about, Todd was actually pretty smart. Thanks to a mild learning disability and his desire not to academically stand out amongst the Brotherhood, his test scores were usually rather low. Still, he did well in crunching the numbers, forming budget plans, and keeping them relatively steady. He was the least likely to waste money on something unimportant, so it didn’t take much prodding to hand him control. He went for groceries once every two weeks, maybe twice if there were uninvited guests or something ran low unexpectedly. While Todd occasionally hopped there on his own, Lance usually drove him so that they could get goods back more easily.

Todd’s mind briefly drifted to Lance, remembering he’d shuffled the older teen into the bathroom for safekeeping until they got everything paid for and loaded in the car. Lance “I’m Fine” Alvers was, thanks to his powers and general stress, a frequent migraine sufferer. Everyone had noticed this ages ago, but their leader wasn’t exactly the type to admit when he was feeling under the weather. His normal route was just to pretend everything was fine and go about his day as usual, despite looking like he was about to collapse.

Sometimes, when the headaches were too severe, he’d hide out in his room with the lights turned off and his favored rock music notably silenced. The rest of the Brotherhood didn’t badger him about it, knowing it would just make the situation worse. Help for their sick idiot leader was intentionally subtle; They were quieter, less mischief, and kept the house dark and cool. If one of them were feeling generous, they’d leave some water and saltines on Lance’s nightstand.

Today it started off light, a minor headache from last night’s brawl with the X-dorks. At least, that’s how Lance tried to make it appear. There were some tells, letting them know he was worse off then he claimed to be; he was sweating, his movements were shaky, and a brief glance at breakfast made him noticeably pale. But unfortunately, Todd knew from their morning meal of last night’s leftovers that they needed desperately groceries. Since Lance was the only one allowed to drive his car, he wasn’t going to be able to ride out the waves of pain on his own just yet. Thankfully the others chose to tag along today, and they were rustling through the other aisles with Todd’s very precise list on hand. No doubt they’d add unnecessary items to the cart, but today he was feeling slightly lenient on their spending habits. Normally on the rare occasion that they shopped altogether, Lance would keep them in line, but he was a bit indisposed at the moment; Driving had taken a lot out of him so by the time they got to the store, he looked like he was gonna hurl. Thus him being moved to the bathroom stall; The lights in there were far too bright for his liking, but it was private.

Throughout all of his migraines, Lance never really asked for anything to dull the pain. He was stubborn enough to want to grit his teeth through it, and they usually didn’t have the money for it anyway. But this month, with Fred finishing off another freelance job, Todd scoring big on some side pickpocketing, and no one almost going to jail, they had a little extra in their pockets. Hopefully enough to legally grab the much needed meds.

Some mild commotion was going on in another part of the store, and Todd picked up on a few familiar voices but otherwise didn’t dwell much on it.

“Mr. Tolensky, interesting to see you here.” Huh, apparently the X-geeks shopped here too, go figure.

“Yeah man, it’s grocery day.” Todd mumbled briefly to Xavier, focusing back onto his task. He could tell the older man was trying to pick at his brain, but he had other things to be concerned for. Like figuring out which of the cheapest meds was the most effective at handling migraines.

“Professor! the Brotherhood are here. I think they’re gonna try to start something-” Scott’s words are paused by the sight of Todd, his stance shifting to a fighting position. “What are you guys here for, Toad?”

“Easy Scott.” Xavier chided, causing Scott to awkwardly relax. “They’re not interested in causing any trouble today.”

The look of disbelief on the laser teen’s face was almost comical “Professor, it’s the Brotherhood! When aren’t they causing trouble?!”

Xavier ignored the comment, instead wheeling himself closer to where Todd was still furiously wracking his brain over the seemingly random words assaulting his vision. The written word wasn’t exactly his strong suit, especially when it was words he couldn’t properly pronounce. A hand stretched past him, and Todd unconsciously shifted to not get in the old man’s way. Then a box was pushed in his direction, and he looked to find Xavier handing him one of the medications he’d been pondering about.

“This may be a good option for you.” He suggests, allowing Todd to swipe the box from him. “We have it stocked in the mansion in case Jean or I overdo it.”

“...Thanks.” His voice is a mix of gratitude and distrust. On one hand, the medicine is probably the right choice in terms of Lance’s symptoms; the professor wouldn’t exactly lie about something like this. On the other hand, it’s advice from an adult, an X-dweeb no less, so it takes him a second to swallow his pride and accept it.

“Of course.” Xavier gives a light smile, which only adds to Todd’s discomfort but he doesn’t address it. “If anything gets to be...too much, be sure to visit. We still have plenty of rooms left in the manor.”

Todd doesn’t shoot down the olive branch, nor does he immediately take it. He nods quietly, not looking at the unusually quiet Scott as he brushes past him. Todd meets up with the Brotherhood, sans Lance, and quickly returns a majority of the unneeded items (mostly candy, courtesy of Pietro) before leading them to the checkout. He doles out the exact amount needed, including tax, and throws in an extra couple dollars in case another candy bar mysteriously makes its way onto the conveyor before returning to the bathroom.

Todd knocks twice before slipping under the stall door, finding his leader thankfully a little better than when he was left there. While the bowl was currently clean, the smell of recent vomit was still lightly wafting through the air. Lance’s still pale and sweating, and he appears to be clammy from what’s probably an oncoming fever. Todd doesn’t think he should be driving them back, and he might get his way if he can pass the meds onto Lance in the car, but for now his main concern is getting him there at all.

“Yo Lance, I’mma have to pick you up so...don’t hurl on me or nuthin’.”

Lance responds with a muffled groan, the closest that Todd’s going to get to an affirmation. He crouches down, draping the older teen’s arm over his shoulder before hefting him upwards. They swayed immediately, with Lance’s skin nearly matching Todd’s, before they had to crouch back down again. The gags from the leader’s throat made the frog boy wince with sympathy, though thankfully it seemed to be nothing but dry heaves. Still, it took a couple minutes for everything to settle before they tried standing again, much more carefully this time.

The chill in the morning air had caused Lance to put on a hoodie jacket before they left, and Todd decided to pull the hood over the other boy’s head before they tried leaving the stall. Movements were slow and steady to prevent any unnecessary collapse. Lance was leaning the majority of his weight on Todd, who didn’t bother commenting on it despite the strain. By the time they’d gotten to the car, everyone else was already buckled in. Fred had squeezed into shotgun, barely managing to fit, and Wanda was in the driver’s seat. Pietro, as well as the groceries, were nowhere to be seen, so he’d most likely taken them home on his own. The back was conveniently empty, with an unused plastic sitting helpfully in one of the seat pockets. Todd dug into Lance’s pocket and, once he found the keys, tossed them over to the scarlet witch. Wanda had gotten her license sometime after she’d joined them, but due to Lance’s stubbornness on always being the one to drive, she’d never gotten a chance to use it after her exam.

Lance made a groan of protest at being shoved into the back, but Todd ignored him as he buckled the two of them in. Safety first.

“Better hold this, dude.” Todd says, handing Lance the plastic bag as the engine starts rumbling. “Things are gonna get a little rocky.”

From the front, they hear Wanda and Fred groan at the rock pun, but Lance, with a slight smile, seems to appreciate it all the same.

#sickfic?#sickfic #illumivomi #x-men evolution #x-men #x-men sick #x men #x-men evolution sick #my post #sick lance #lance alvers #todd tolansky

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holydepths-blog · 5 years

Note

✩ jt & sienna

my wrist hurts from typing so eat ass

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? sienna … like we get it he’s in a gang so he has to b mean to other people but both of them know she’ll kill him if he ever talks to her loudly in any capacity Who threatens to leave but never actually does? i feel like he’s a dramatic mf … like ummmm i can go any time i WANT to im not actually ur bf !! and she’s like yeah ur right leave and he goes :pensive: Who actually keeps their word and leaves? sienna . she would storm out of her own house for dramatic effect . my girl doesn’t give a fuck Who trashes the house? she’ll throw sum at him …. prolly a pillow , she doesn’t need a lawsuit on her hands Do either of them get physical? not to imply domestic abuse is ever laughable but if (when? we dk) she ever came @ him … it’d be funny cos he cld literally just push against her forehead and her arms would not reach him How often do they argue/disagree? all the time, she disagrees simply to disagree w him Who is the first to apologise? her, solely because she’s Antagonistic on purpose and then feels bad

Sex:

Who is on top? she wants to take a ride on his disco stick Who is on the bottom? u heard me Who has the strangest desires? they both think the other person’s entirely normal behavior is freaky . jt wants to snuggle ? sienna: tf are we , puritans ? Any kinks? i refuse to take the bdsm test for her because i’m scared of what i’ll find so come back to me on this one Who’s dominant in bed? it’s exhausting being dominant in everything else so he takes the w on this one Is head ever in the equation? yethIf so, who is better at performing it? his beard is itchy so he compensates by being really fucking good at it Ever had sex in public? yes. they’ve had sex in the back room of the thrift shop more than they have upstairs in her apartment Who moans the most? can he shut the frick up Who leaves the most marks? sienna…………………………………. dont askWho screams the loudest? can SHE shut the frick up ….Who is the more experienced of the two? idk how experienced he is probably very but it’s important for me that u know she’s a whore Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? they frick Rough or soft? r**gh …. once a month she’s uwu ….How long do they usually last? for a long time , her poor thrussy Is protection used? yes. she’d kill herself before she got pregnant Does it ever get boring? no Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? they’ve had sex anywhere and everywhere

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? she would literally rather DIE than be pregnant. FOR THE PURPOSES of this section … they adopt (one) kid when they’re too old to be raising a tot but still try, don’t @ me. If so, how many children do your muses want/have? her ? none lol but AGAIN … i cannot leave this section blank and …. future purposes dont @ meWho is the favorite parent? sienna’s not a regular mom, she’s a cool momWho is the authoritative parent? she’s also a bitch though, don’t forget it Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? jt , mostly because sienna doesn’t want them around all day Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? SIENNA …. yeah sorry that i don’t think it’s jordan ‘waahhh sienna i don’t want you to get mercury poisoning’ tucker …. mind ur fucking business maybe ? Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? sienna , but she drags jt with her so she has someone to bitch about soccer moms and how long [ insert activity here ] is running with Who goes to parent teacher interviews? jt , sienna isn’t allowed there anymore. it’s a long story. Who changes the diapers? bold of u to assume she would ever go NEAR a diaperWho gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? she’s fully decided she is INDEPENDENT and does not NEED him to wake up for moral support or to warm up a bottle … her tit is good enough Who spends the most time with the children? jt , she’s an ankle biter anti . ( she still reads the kid bedtime stories every night )Who packs their lunch boxes? jt , sienna is not allowed to make health choices for ANYONE Who gives their children ‘the talk’? SIENNA … she tells them flat out what happens and why it happens , no bullshit . science babey ! Who cleans up after the kids? nothing ever gets cleaned up , ever. Who worries the most? jt . sienna is too cool and chill 2 have anxiety Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? SIENNA

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? he does … she’s super handsy casually but whenever it comes to actually hugging she takes a bit to warm up to it Who is the little spoon? she is …. he’s only allowed 2 snuggle her if she can fall asleep in his arms . nearly vomited writing that actually Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? right now ? sienna , trying to convince everyone they’re like actually really a thing . Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? sienna , and she denies it until her dying breath How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? sienna’s … ability to be uber affectionate with him is limited …. but she gets a lot better as time grows on . that’s character development Who gives the most kisses? jtWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? dont ask me why my first thought was watching shitty b-rated horror movies …. she also makes him sort through clothes with her, and she promises it’s very theraputic Where is their favourite place to cuddle? bed . it’s much easier to get her to drop her mr tough guy act when she’s sleepy Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? neither , when they touch eachother it means BUSINESS , see two sections back How often do they get time to themselves? all the time , she runs away

Sleeping:

Who snores? i already know she does , dont judge her If both do, who snores the loudest? sienna Do they share a bed or sleep separately? share :3 not rn …… but they WLD If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? she’s ready to draw a partition down the middle of the bedWho talks in their sleep? sienna , and he makes fun of her for it What do they wear to bed? sienna steals clothes specifically from him to sleep in. she’s also 10/10 a morning showererer so she’ll lit sleep in her clothes from that day and not give a FUCK Are either of your muses insomniacs? sienna never sleeps she runs purely on red bull and annoyance Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? yeah , she takes them most nights Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? side by side, though occasionally she’ll reach for his hand Who wakes up with bed hair? sienna, and it’s awful. he’ll get his ass beat if he mentions it Who wakes up first? jt. it takes her FOREVER to fall asleep , but once she’s out she’s out . think being awake for 24 hours then sleeping for 12+ Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? he does, not to be romantic but because he’s sick and tired of her eating leftover fried rice in bed. What is their favourite sleeping position? she sprawls , and she doesn’t like to be touching him when she sleeps , but his presence is a good thing Who hogs the sheets? jt , simply because he’s so comparatively large next to her that using a reasonable amount of sheets reads as hogging Do they set an alarm each night? they both intend to — and always forget. when when it goes off, sienna sleeps through it Can a television be found in their bedroom? yes , but it doesn’t get cable like the one in the living room does. it’s exclusively for blockbuster rentals. Who has nightmares? she doesn’t have wake up in a cold sweat nightmares, but she has sad dreams a lot Who has ridiculous dreams? sienna makes up the craziest dreams to relay to him just to fuck with him Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? SIENNAWho makes the bed? neither have the time What time is bed time? either 8pm or 4am, no in between Any routines/rituals before bed? her SOLE form of self care is face masks, and she makes him do them on the top half of his face where green gunk wont get in his hair Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? sienna is grumpy all the time, so it’d have to be him by comparison

Work:

Who is the busiest? she literally lives at work, so there’s always something Who rakes in the highest income? considering she is a SMART , STRONG , almost business owner ( omg they popping BIG bottles when the old bitch that actually owns the attic dies ) and he thrives on tips and gang bullshit ? do the math. Are any of your muses unemployed? nopeWho takes the most sick days? sienna just opens the store and goes back upstairs to fake supervise in her sleep, call her if there’s a fireWho is more likely to turn up late to work? he is, it’s LITERALLY impossible for her to do that Who sucks up to their boss? paging ed, she’s her own fucking boss What are their jobs? he’s a bartender/gang fREAK , she manages the attic thrift store Who stresses the most? jt has a lot of long days to to the antics of alcoholics , she likes her job even though she wishes she was somewhere else Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? she likes it…. but she’s super depressed she isn’t following her dreams. i assume he likes whatever’s going on on the wrong side of town Are your muses financially stable? yes

Home:

Who does the washing? jtWho takes out the trash? jordan tucker Who does the ironing? jordanWho does the cooking? mr tuckerWho is more likely to burn the house down just trying? see i would say sienna, but she DOESN’T try. Who is messier? sienna, but she’s not as much messy as she is disorganizedWho leaves the toilet roll empty? siennaWho leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? jt, he lit just took his shoes off in the thread ….. literally get off her couch Who forgets to flush the toilet? that’s gross. Who is the prankster around the house? if he pulls anything over on her in her house he’s kicked 2 the curb. she bullying he is fair game tho Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? sienna doesn’t drive, so him Who mows the lawn? what lawn Who answers the telephone? she pointedly ignores them Who does the vacuuming? see the other chore listWho does the groceries? ^Who takes the longest to shower? siennaWho spends the most time in the bathroom? neither of them , efficiency is key

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? mo money mo problems is what i always say . it isn’t overflowing , but it isn’t an issue How many cars do they own? he has a motorcycle , she has a bike and two working feet Do they own their home or do they rent? she rents , technically , until she gets the store Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? dont ask this again mads still has not told me where we are Do they live in the city or in the country? SHE lives downtown , he would have to move in with her Do they enjoy their surroundings? she hates it , she wants a big city What’s their song? she played this on her record player , and she had one too many drinks and tried to dance with him to it ….. What do they do when they’re away from each other? breathe a sigh of relief Where did they first meet? the thrift storeHow did they first meet? when she literally made out w him unprecedentedly Who spends the most money when out shopping? sienna is always buying things at garage sales and other thrift stores she insists are to resell but then a week later they show up in her house or she’s wearing them Who’s more likely to flash their assets? sienna owns one expensive thing and never lets it go. Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? they aren’t 10 Any mental issues? too many to countWho’s terrified of bugs? spiders are her friends Who kills the spiders around the house? if he does she’ll b mad at him that’s pablo , he lives in the corner Their favourite place? her apartment Who pays the bills? siennaDo they have any fears for their future? at this point probably the stress of staging a breakup Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? LOOK … i know it’s not the question but she surprises him with spectacularly unfancy dinners …. he shows up and they’re eating pizza rolls by candlelight because if she doesn’t cook them ahead of time he won’t let her eat them Who uses up all of the hot water? SIENNAWho’s the tallest? he is , she’s 2ft Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? sienna, the horndogWho wanders around in their underwear? [ me vc ] if he keeps barging in he’s seen her in a towel Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? neither of them , they DANCE What do they tease each other about? him about her poor life choices , her about his criticisms of her life choices . essentially she mocks him Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? sienna has to beg him to not wear a clean version of the same fucking clothes every day . he owns one outfit and washes it each night as far as she’s concerned Do they have mutual friends? no , they run in VERY different circles Who crushed first? [ tatbilb vc ] if anyone’s fallen in love with someone who doesn’t love them back, it’s not you. it’s kavinsky. he’s kavinsky. Any alcohol or substance related problems? the only water she drinks is watered down beer because it was cheaper, amiright lads? also she smokes a lot , have fun with lung cancer when you’re 40 sienna Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? sienna, and he was the bartenderWho swears the most? her

#soulsbled #006. sienna / kinney » featuring jordan.#004. sienna / kinney » all posts.

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adriana-florentina18 · 6 years

Text

Barista [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: Taehyung works at a local coffee shop that is very popular in Korea and when you, a foreigner visiting the coutry step into the shop, he can’t take his eyes off you.

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 2 892

Finally you saw your dream fulfilled: you have just landed at the Incheon Airport in South Korea. At last you had enough money to afford the trip that you dreamt about, visiting the big cities, traveling with KTX and of course taking a lot of pictures. The flight was tiring, having to change the airplanes at some point because from your country there was no straight flight to Seoul. But the many hours spent on a chair and the slight numbness in your muscles surely didn’t stop you from gushing over the large number of stores, the bright lights and.. just everything, in fact. “I still can’t believe it,” you mumbled to yourself in your native tongue, barely restraining from jumping up and down, causing people to throw weird glances at you.

The second big thing you did, well, according to you at least, was to take a selfie at the airport and brag a little on the social media. After so many years spent watching your friends go abroad and posting a shit ton of pictures, it was your turn too – you were sooo gonna spam every social media account you had. Soon after you posted the picture, you retrieved your luggage and proceeded on the way to exit the airport. It wasn’t that much to walk but you took your time to take in the new surroundings. It didn’t matter that in your haze you also walked straight into some people, earning yourself a tired yet pissed off look from the Koreans along with something that you recognized as “dumb foreigner”.

Once out, the chill night air hit your warm face but it was well received. Inhaling deeply you went to search for a free taxi toward your Korean pen friend’s place. She was kind enough to help you with your stay in her city once she learned that you were about to go and “conquer” Seoul (which actually amused her; it was more like the busy and rather fast pace of Seoul will be the one conquering you, not the other way). The taxi cab was driving past tall glass buildings, restaurants, young people walking back and forth, meeting with their friends, the road – half packed even at such late hour… but the whole atmosphere was definitely new and very well welcomed by your excited self.

“We have arrived,” the driver announced you in a broken English, which only made you smile and hand him the money for the ride with a big smile on your face, thanking him in his native tongue. You weren’t just gonna waste all your Korean lessons, now were you? Even if you still made mistakes while speaking, you were determined more than ever to speak Korean.

“Seo Yun,” you announced in a cheerful voice into the intercom. “I have arrived and now come pick my ass up from here,” you ended your sentence with a chuckle. God, you sounded as if you were drunk or something. Drunk of happiness and still thirsty for adventure.

The girl named Seo Yun laughed and instead opened the door for you, telling you at what floor to stop and that she’ll wait you in the doorway. “But don’t you dare jump on me. Judging by what you told me, you’d knock us both down,” she laughed. Well, that just sucked, from your point of view of course.

“Haaa, so good to lay in a bed,” you sighed loudly. “Flying for… I don’t even remember the number of hours, sure is draining you of your energy.’’

But as soon as you collided in bed, just as fast you were up too, beginning to enumerate what you had to do like taking a shower, then eat, then god knows what anymore.

“Someone is too excited, I see,” she laughed. “Keep it like this and by the end of your trip I’ll have to drug you with pills to calm you a bit,” Seo Yun joked some more. “The shower is that way. Make yourself at home while I go make some ramyeon, ok?”

“And some coffee…”

“So you’ll become a spinning top? In your dreams, baby,” and with that Seo Yun left in the kitchen, leaving you to do your stuff.

Needless to mention that you both didn’t give two shits about the late hour in the night as you ate ramyeon and some cookies specially baked by Seo Yun’s mother and talked about everything. You were glad you found her and became such good friends, it’s something beautiful in a friendship with a foreigner, you have so much to learn from them and viceversa. Eventually you both went to sleep around 7 in the morning and hardly woke up around 10 am to go sightseeing.

Seo Yun has dragged you all over to the most important things in Seoul, telling you great stories about each place, especially the palace – familiar to you thanks to those dramas you’ve watched so far – , soon following the shopping time. In just one day you visited almost three shopping malls and a big library, not able to help yourself and buying some books. As you followed Seo Yun all over the place like a puppy, the other citizens only chuckled.

“Icecream or cotton candy?” the girl asked.

“Hmm… Hard choice”, you chuckled, analysing her dollface like. “Icecream,” you answered with a loud laugh as Seo Yun was about to run after you.

Sitting now on a bench as you rested your feet and enjoyed the icecreams you bought, you noticed the café across the street. It had a puppy paw besides the steaming coffee mug. Since it was a bit far away you struggled at first to read the name.

“It reads The Puppy’s Coffee Shop,” Seo Yun translated for you. “Their coffee is very good and it’s a popular café in this neighbourhood. Plus, you can play with puppies while you drink,” she chimed.

Whatever she said afterwards didn’t matter, you were thinking only about those little four-footed playful puppies and how you’d cuddle them and never let go. You were daydreaming so much that the icecream began melting and run down your fingers making them sticky, while Seo Yun waved her hand in your face.

“Earth to Y/N, are you still here?”

“Can we go in?” you asked impatient. “I can bet those tiny creatures are waiting for me to pet them.” This only got the Korean girl to chuckle at you, finding your enthusiasm quite amusing and refreshing at the same time.

“Coffee after icecream?” she questioned in a mocking tone, wearing a grin.

“It’s my stomach, shut up,” you dismissed her as you tugged at her hand. “Now be my guide and let’s go there,” you smiled brightly. Seo Yun laughed some more and led you to the coffee shop across the street.

Once in there you let out a loud whoah at the rather big space, the smell of coffee filling your nostrils and the innocent and cute barking from the puppies running all across the place.The walls were a burgundy color, the furniture a nice dark cherry contrasting perfectly and near the three sofas that were there, baskets for the puppies have been laid down. The shop was mostly filled with young people and their cheerfulness echoed in every corner. Seo Yun noticed how your eyes lit up in pure joy, picking a small Golden Retriever as the puppy bumped with your leg.

“Look at how adorable he is!” you said loudly, rubbing your cheek against his tiny head. His small tail fluttered in happiness at the love he received.

“Y/N…” Seo Yun tried but it was pointless, you were long lost as you sat on an empty sofa and tickled the puppy.

Seo Yun shook her head with a small chuckle as she went to the bar, where a young man with a big smile adorning his face, soft black and disheveled hair and a cute mullet, piercings in both his ears was taking the orders… My, he is beautiful, the girl thought and immediately a smirk bloomed on her lips.

“Yes, how may I help you?” the boy named Taehyung, according to his name tag, asked with the same glee.

“I would like two coffees, please. Oh, and my friend there,” and she pointed towards an oblivious you who was still playing with the puppy, “thinks you look cute.”

Well, the barista surely didn’t expect that but knowing it wasn’t the first time he got complimented, he just smiled politely and thanked for it. But when he saw that Seo Yun made another reference to his looks ( “She also said that this hairstyle suits you very well” ), he finally looked over at you. For a brief second Taehyung got before you moved again, he caught a glimpse of your facial features, the way your hair was done, even the shirt that you wore. The boy blinked a few times and even if he looked and saw Seo Yun, his mind was already projecting your figure in front of him.

“Hello,” she chuckled as she waved her hand in his face.

“U-uhh, oh yeah, the coffees, right away…” Taehyung stuttered. “So, she’s a foreigner?”

“Yep, my friend from a distant country. She’s staying with me during her trip in Korea. And she speaks a bit of Korean too,” she teased. “Would you like me to introduce you to her?”

At that unexpected proposition Taehyung blushed, however he didn’t answer a clear yes or no, and so Seo Yun grinned and noted in her mind that this could go well. Being your best friend for almost three years and the one to run to when no one from your friends would listen to you, of course she knew some of your preferences. That included: one, you were still single and two, you expressed your wish of trying to be in a relationship with a Korean man.

“What’s taking so long?” you appeared out of nowhere beside your friend, speaking in English. Taehyung almost burned himself with the boiling water at the sound of your voice. He understood English on a conversational level but still had some issues here and there.

“Just ordered the coffees, done with playing already?”

“Took a break, the puppy left me for a little girl,” you pouted cutely. “I feel betrayed. And he offered such good hugs too…” you sighed amused. Taehyung however thought otherwise, I could offer good hugs too, warmth, make you laugh just as the puppy had made you…

Taehyung shook his head, getting rid of those thoughts this way but caught your eye. Usually you’d be shy around new people, especially in a foreign country, but you felt like a social butterfly right now and so you flashed him one of your warm smiles and said hi to him in Korean. He could have sworn his heart skipped more than one beat.

Handing you both the cups of coffee, you noticed the designs on them: Seo Yun had a leaf design, while you had many hearts on it. Seo Yun grinned in his way, but you were too busy to smile like an idiot and even take a picture of it. So innocent, Seo Yun and also Taehyung thought at that moment. Before you could walk away, Taehyung spoke slowly in English, in a deep voice, “Hope you will come back soon?” You stared for a moment at the tall boy before a grin bloomed on your face and nodded.

Back at Seo Yun’s place and about to throw your cup of coffee, you noticed a small piece of paper stuck on it. Picking it and unfolding it, you tried to read his messy handwriting and understand it. Out of nowhere someone was over your shoulder and giggled, translating the small note.

“So someone got a crush on you, hm,” she teased. “Tomorrow at the same hour?” Seo Yun winked, making you blush.

“Your imagination…”

“I noticed how you were looking at him too. You two were analysing yourselves. What if he asks you for a date?” she smiled big, making you even more shy.

You suddenly excused yourself and went to bed, leaving Seo Yun laughing in the living room. In your room now and under the warm blankets, the young man suddenly appeared with his signature smile. Unconsciously, your fingers started caressing on your pillow, pretending it was his hair, locking your fingers in his mullet. Maybe hearing his deep voice talking to you, sending shivers down your spine and pulling you closer to his body, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. And before you knew it, you indeed fell asleep with a small smile in the corner of your mouth.

The next day went the same, with some teasing from your friend and eventually returning to the café. Seo Yun was the first to notice Taehyung’s face light up at the sight of you. Pulling you after her to sit at the bar, Taehyung almost missed the orders because he was getting lost in your mere presence. For the first time you were chill too, not running around like a small child; instead you focused on his skilled hands preparing that delicious black liquid, pouring milk and doodling a leaf, a heart or a cloud. You started to bit on your lower lip, unaware you were in fact falling for the barista man. And unbeknownst to you, Taehyung was slowly falling for you too.

Time to time sipping coffee or staring at him doing his job, Seo Yun silently observing your actions, Taehyung feeling your gaze on him… This is how the rest of the day went by. When Seo Yun announced it was time for you two to leave, it was already past 9:30, meaning his shift was nearing its end as well. Your small plea of staying a little longer only made Taehyung’s heart grow a bit more, as well as Seo Yun’s grin.

“Well, I guess we’ll meet tomorrow?” this time Taehyung asked in Korean as he closed the shop after feeding the puppies, standing pretty tall compared to you.

“Yes,” you answered with a smile also in Korean, earning yourself a boxy smile from him and to ruffle your hair.

Each day went by like this, until the fourth one, when Seo Yun didn’t tag along and you were left alone with him all day. It was a bit awkward now, him working and you only wasting time there or playing with the puppies. But it meant for both of you a lot. Maybe you didn’t talk a lot, however it didn’t mean that you weren’t getting closer and closer to each other by the second.

“Y/N, wanna go have lunch with me? I’m on my break,” Taehyung announced and you nodded. Out of instinct, he took your hand in his and you let him intertwine his long fingers with yours. “Such small hands, I’m dying,” he cooed in a childish voice.

All the way to the nearest park he kept teasing you about your fingers or height, and despite your blush and pouts, you found the teasing hilarious too. He served you some cookies and also one of his homemade kimbap. When you moaned in delight, Taehyung swallowed hard – the moan wasn’t expected.

“I’m taking it you like it,” he chuckled.

“Teach me how to make it!” you said impatiently, not even properly swallowing the food.

“So, for how long will you stay here in Korea?” he asked out of curiosity, trying to ignore the rice that got stuck to your left corner of mouth. Secretly, he hoped for a longer period.

“Well, I was thinking until the next Sunday…” but you cut yourself to let some suspense grow a bit, feeling sorry instantly for tricking him when he pouted. “Buuut…”

“Buut???”

“I might consider studying here at Seoul National University, thanks to Seo Yun's pestering,” you laughed. “I considered for a year to start studying somewhere abroad but– “ you got cut off as Taehyung hugged the life out of you, happy to hear you’ll be staying longer.

“That’s good news! I’m so happy!”

“Why?”

“Because I can do this and not feel like you’ll slip right through my fingers,” Taehyung gazed a bit longer into your eyes before he kissed the corner of your mouth, cleaning it off from the rice, and then properly sharing a kiss with you.

The kiss was slow, innocent, a silent confession of how he’s felt for the past four days since he met you. And he was more than happy when he felt your fingers interlock in his smooth hair, gently tugging, a silent demand for him to do more. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist and sat you on his lap, one of his hands going to cup your cheek and tilting your head slightly so he could deepen the kiss. The small sound of pleasure that emerged from within your throat was almost like a purr to his ears.

“So, tomorrow after work, at my place so we can have a proper romantic date?” Taehyung glued his forehead to yours, his boxy smile returning.

“Why wait so long when we can have that date tonight?” you teased him, biting playfully his bottom lip.

“Playing with fire, baby? You’ll get burned” he grinned in return.

“I can’t wait then.”

#kim taehyung #v #bangtan #bts #fanfiction #fluff #romance #love #love story #taehyung x reader #reader #taehyung x you #barista taehyung #bangtan boys

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