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the-girl-who-walks-with-mutants · 3 months

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Uncanny Icon Chapter 2: Dossier

Kurt Wagner x Original Female Character (Adrian Grey)

Rating: M

Chapter Summary:

We're gathering the team!

While the Professor is out gathering new recruits, Adrian and Scott are taking a look at who their new teammates will be, with some interests questions, comments, and concerns along the way. Including a special addition: Adrian Grey's own Cerebro file!

Our last chapter pre-Giant Size X-Men 1, but references to the story, particularly the origins of the new team members.

[this is chapter is extra special thanks to fantastic art by @lazywrites of our Indelible Icon!]

‘The Professor is currently out collecting our teammates, and since your telepathy isn’t compatible with Cerebro, we’ll have to make do with the paper files,’ Scott says as he slides the pile across the dining room table towards Adrian. ‘Each was handpicked by Xavier to best help with the mission, though I will say, they are… well, you’ll see.’

‘I’m going to ignore that dig on my powers, Slim, otherwise I might be offended.’ She frowns at the files, pulling them towards herself. ‘But seriously, what’s so bad about them? They’re just mutants, how much worse than us could they possibly be?’

‘You’ll see,’ he repeats, crossing his arms.

Grabbing the first file, Adrian flips it open, ‘Okay, talk me through what we’re working with.’

File 1: NIGHTCRAWLER [Kurt Wagner, 20, Germany, teleportation]

‘Xavier got a psychic warning that Wagner will be attacked by an angry mob, so he’s the first stop,’ Scott explains as Adrian pulls the papers out of the file.

‘Angry mob? What is this, the 1800s, why would they…’ she looks down at the photo pulled from the Cerebro database. ‘Oh.’

Adrian always knew that there were mutants with more explicit mutations. Her own powers cause her eyes to change colour, Warren’s wings could only be hidden with a specific type of harness, but this?

This is something completely different.

The face that looks back at her is a dark blue, almost indigo, with heavy shadows around golden eyes, a solid colour with only the faintest sign of a pupil. Black hair curls around pointed ears. A half-open mouth reveals sharpened canines. That mouth is soft, sly, contrasting nicely with a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, a strong brow reminding her of a classic Hollywood hero, just in different colours, of course. According to the file, he was completely blue, with hands and feet each with three digits instead of five and…

‘A tail?’ she exclaims, looking between the file and Scott.

‘Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much but…’

She holds a hand up. ‘Well, hold on, it’s not a bad thing.’ She quickly notices his disappointment. ‘Hey, I’m not calling him hot, but, you know, kinda cute, I guess.’ Another look. ‘Okay, okay, fine. Is teleportation his only non-physical mutation?’

He nods, ‘Only primary mutation. Some ability to stick to walls and hide in shadows, but also trained in acrobatics and swordsmanship. Grew up in a circus, apparently.’

‘Hm,’ she closes the file with a little smile, ‘blue Errol Flynn, sounds fun. What’s next?’

File 2: WOLVERINE [classified, unknown, Canada, healing factor*]

‘Well, great, we went from a devil to a non-entity, that’s helpful.’ Her eyes then bug wide as she reads the footnote.

*note: mutant subjected to experiments that resulted in an adamantium coating on entire skeleton, including three claws on each hand (unknown if claws present pre-operation)*

‘I’m sorry, adamantium?’

‘My reaction exactly,’ Scott confirms, pushing over the photo. ‘Apparently he was part of a project called Weapon X headed by a sector of the Canadian government, but there aren’t a lot of details.’

‘And here I thought Canadians were supposed to be nicer than us.’ Adrian looks down at the photo of the Wolverine. It’s a photo in uniform instead of civilian garb, and she immediately makes the connection between the name and the image of the man with a spiked mask. She looks up in disbelief. ‘Scott, this is the guy that fought the Hulk! We want this guy? Seriously?’

Scott shrugs. ‘Well, the Professor wants him. Though, he may technically be government properly, so I’m not sure if the Professor will be able to get him.’

‘Wait, a person is government property?’

‘His skeleton is.’

She leans back in her chair, rubbing her forehead. ‘Jesus Christ.’

File 3: BANSHEE [Sean Cassidy, 38, Ireland/USA, sonic scream]

‘Oh, okay, its Sean, that’s fine.’ She tosses the file without another word.

Scott raises an eyebrow.

‘What? I pay attention to the people we interact with on one-off missions sometimes.’ She rolls her eyes at his continued disapproving glance. ‘What? He’s a ginger Irish guy who calls himself Banshee, I think I get the gist.’

‘Well, he was also part of Interpol and –’

She waves it away, ‘No, no, I get the gist, its fine.’

File 4: STORM [Ororo Munroe, 27, Kenya, weather manipulation]

Adrian lets out a low whistle. ‘We’re recruiting goddesses now, huh? Finally giving the Avengers a run for their money?’

The woman is beautiful, probably one of the most beautiful women Adrian has ever seen. Deep skin contrasting with blue eyes and a mane of white hair. Her nose is regal, lips full, the turn of her eyes reminding Adrian of a cat. She was also naked, her top half shown in the photo only covered by her hair.

‘We’re not calling her a goddess,’ Scott says, distracting Adrian from the photo. ‘She’s worshipped by a tribe in Kenya, but she’s still just a mutant. Manipulates the weather.’

She raises an eyebrow, ‘That sounds suspiciously like a goddess, Slim. Like that’s a lot of power and if she actually has control over it enough for people to worship her? I’ll call her a goddess at that point.’

‘Well, I suppose the problem is going to be convincing her that she is really just a mutant and she should help us. But the Professor apparently met her as a child, so is convinced that he can sway her to join.’

Adrian hums, only half listening to his explanation as an idea comes to her. ‘Hey, if that’s the case,’ referring to her previous point, ‘Could Jesus have been a –’

‘No,’ he answers sternly before she can finish her question.

File 5: SUNFIRE [Shiro Yoshida, 28, Japan, solar radiation manipulation]

‘Oh, you don’t recognise this one?’

Adrian looks up at him from the photo of a Japanese nobleman that’s she’s pretty sure she’s never seen before. ‘What?’

‘Well,’ he starts, leaning back in his seat, ‘since you said you were so good at remembering people that the team has interacted with before, I just assumed…’

She throws the file at him. ‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ she retorts as she grabs the next one, ‘it doesn’t suit you.’

He laughs at her and, despite her annoyance, she’s at least glad he’s able to joke around, considering the circumstances.

File 6: COLOSSUS [Piotr Nikolayevich Rasputin, 19, Siberia, metal mimicry/super-strength]

‘Fucking hell, dude,’ she barks out as she reads the specs on the next mutant. ‘Six foot six in regular form but when mutation is activated, Rasputin’s skin turns to a form of organic steel, increasing his height up to seven foot five?’ She stares at Scott in disbelief. ‘We’re the same age, I didn’t know we even came this big!’

‘Don’t be childish, Adrian,’ Scott crosses his arms, tone sharper than before.

Adrian picks up on the switch instantly, as per the nature of her powers. With Scott being the only other person in the mansion, all she could focus on were those subtle changes in his emotional state. ‘What? You don’t like my jokes? Or you don’t like the idea of a Commie on the team?’

He shrugs, ‘I’m not against it.’

She gives him a look.

‘I’m not,’ he says with more conviction. ‘I’m just wanting to make sure we don’t have any members that could jeopardize the mission, that’s all.’

Adrian does a quick look over the files so far, ‘So what, you got a problem with… a German, a Russian, and someone from Japan? You do realize it’s not 1942, right? The Professor is bringing in mutants. It’s not like we’re getting a Nazi, a KBG officer, and an imperialist on the team.’

‘That isn’t what I meant.’

‘No, no I know what you meant.’ Scott, along with most of the original X-Men, always had a problem with full accepting that being a mutant wasn’t just the same as being different. Just like people could hate others because of their race, gender, sexuality, or religious beliefs, they could also hate mutants. But it was often forgotten by that first generation that these things could overlap. There could be black mutants, gay mutants, Soviet mutants, anything and everything. This new team is a testament to that reality. And even if they disband after this mission, it’s a step forward. Adrian has always felt the need to hide the stranger parts of herself even among her classmates, but the last thing she wants is for these new members feel the need to do the same thing just to placate Scott and the others.

She closes the file on the young man, whose face already reveals a kindness that few people can ever hope to achieve. ‘We’re mutants, Slim. Just remember that we don’t all get to have a happy little childhood and not all of us only have problems when our powers manifest. You know that, I know you do. The Professor gave us a chance, give it to someone else now.’

And then she pulls out the final file.

File 7: THUNDERBIRD [John Proudstar, 26, USA, super strength/speed/agility]

Even Adrian isn’t immune to some hypocrisy.

She frowns.

‘What’s wrong? He’s a good addition. Professor says he’s looking to prove himself, needing a cause to fight for. And since you said we deserve to give everyone a chance…’

Her eyes flash gold for a moment, his patronizing tone reminding both of them that just because they’re the only ones left, doesn’t mean they will always get along perfectly. ‘Don’t put words in my mouth, Summers.’

Scott leans forward on his elbows, gaze never wavering. ‘So what’s wrong with him?’

‘Nothing’s wrong with him. I’m just thinking logistically. This would make nine members on the team and there’s a good mix of offense and defence, good range of power sets. Is it necessary for one more who’s powers are just… improvements on natural human athleticism?’

‘You don’t want me to complain about some of the other members, you don’t complain about this one.’

She raises her eyebrows, eyes returning to brown as she smirks, ‘Why, Slim, are you compromising with me?’

He holds his out to her.

The smirk turns into a full smile and her hand finds his, shaking it.

XXX

As she stares at the files spread out across the table, the photos of soon-to-be teammates and allies, Adrian can’t help it as her face begins to sour. Her hands tug at the roots of her ginger curls, jaw tightening as stress starts to manifest. They had already lost so many people, what if it just happened again this time around. As Scott places his hand on her shoulder, she feels the wave of calm wash over her, pacifying her mind long enough for her to ask, ‘Are we sure this is a good idea?’

‘The Professor thinks so.’

‘I’m not asking about Xavier,’ she leans back in her chair, looking up at Scott, brown eyes meeting ruby quartz glasses. ‘I’m asking you. What do you think? Because I just… I just see more lives we’re just throwing away, I see more people who don’t know what they’re getting into, I see…’

‘Soldiers.’ Scott finishes for her, his hand now weighing heavy on her shoulder. He doesn’t like to question Xavier, and Adrian knows it. Scott Summers is team leader, the first mutant brought to the mansion, the perfect soldier, perfect student. He knows how to take action, carrying out the steps necessary to achieve Xavier’s dream. But now? He feels as Adrian does, that distrust gnawing at their hearts, the possibility that all they are just soldiers in a war they are too young to fight. Adrian is nineteen, Scott twenty-three. Is that meant to be enough? Old enough to go out on death missions but young enough to follow orders without question?

But they both know they’ll do it.

They always do it.

And in this case, the reward isn’t just saving humans that will hate them the next day, it’s to get their family back.

Adrian sighs. ‘You want Jean back.’

‘I want all of them back,’ he says.

She looks at him again, ‘Tell her you love her this time. You both deserve that. Don’t let her get away again because you’re scared she’ll say no. She won’t.’

He nods, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. No matter what he says, he’s never liked how easily Adrian can read people, how easy it is for her to unknowingly pick at wounds that haven’t been properly healed.

She’s right, though. She always ends up being right.

He ruffles her hair. ‘We’ll get them back.’

She nods, staring at the files once more. ‘A second genesis of X-Men.’

‘Second genesis,’ he repeats. Then he holds out a final file for her to take. ‘Welcome back, Adri.’

She flips the file open, seeing a photo of a familiar young woman with mid-length ginger hair curling wildly around a round face with strong brows and large, expressive brown eyes. A sharp, slightly crooked nose, soft jaw and cheeks dotted with freckles, a mouth turned down in a frown, making dimples appear on her chin.

File 8: ICON [Adrian Louise Grey, 19, USA, empathic telepathy/psychic manifestation]

BASIC PROFILE INFORMATION: IDENTIFICATION

Name: Adrian Louise Grey

Known Aliases: n/a

Known Name Derivatives: Adri, Addy

Codename: Icon

Age: 19

Birthday: 9th June

Hair: Red

Eyes: Brown

Height: 5’4”

Identifying Features (scars, tattoos, birthmarks, etc.): stab scar on right shoulder (front and back) 2 inches long; circular scar on left hip 0.5 inch diameter.

Body Modifications: two lobe piercings on each ear

Known Medical Issues: hypermobility, allergies to mangos and strawberries, extreme intolerance for alcohol

BASIC PROFILE INFORMATION: MUTATION

Primary Mutation: Empathic Telepathy*

Secondary Mutation: Psychic Manifestation**

Age of Activation (Primary): 4

Age of Activation (Secondary): 12

Any External Cause for Activation: n/a

Identifying Features (Primary or Secondary): psychic energy and constructs manifest as a yellow-gold colour; activation of either mutation causes a change in eye colour from brown to gold.

*empathic telepathy: the ability to understand and influence the emotions of others through an initial manipulation of one’s own emotional state. Differs from empathy due to the communicative element indicative of telepathic ability. Higher levels of empathic telepaths have the ability for illusionary visions, control of masses through joined emotional state, and potential reality-altering states.

**psychic manifestation: the ability to create constructs of psychic energy, limited only by the imagination and will of the user. Constructs last only as long as user focuses on their creation. Higher levels of manifestation may have the ability to construct semi-permanent images. Currently limit of size is dependent on the strength and mental fortitude of the mutant.

PERSONAL HISTORY [notes by Professor Charles Xavier]

Adrian Louise Grey is the youngest child of John and Elaine Grey [human] (Annandale-on-Hudson, New York). Two older siblings include Sara [human] and Jean [see separate file, MARVEL GIRL]. Raised in a single income home, father being the provider as a professor at Bard College. Current 50/50 split between mutant and non-mutant children in the Grey family – potential mutant ancestors indicated by the similarity of powers of Adrian and Jean?

Powers seemed to manifest early, but naturally. According to the family, there were no traumatic events associated in Adrian’s childhood to the activation of her primary mutation. As they described in my first discussion with them, it was her fourth birthday when she suddenly burst into tears and every time another human touched her to calm her down, she transferred her emotions to them and vice versa. Since that point, Adrian has constant surges of emotional data in her mind, unable to tune it out in the same manner psychic telepaths are able to.

Due to concerns about both Jean and Adrian, I arrived to assist the Greys in understanding their daughters’ specific needs. Began with Jean for several years before I was allowed to meet with Adrian, as the family believed that her mental health was far more severely damaged than Jean’s. By age 12, when her secondary mutation had developed, parents had pulled her out of school and were considering institutionalization due her increasingly troubling and erratic behaviour. I was then given access to Adrian. Any new emotional patterns triggered her. I was able to reach her through telepathy – naturally communicates on through psychic and body languages. To provide structure in her mind, psychic blocks were placed in key areas of the brain to act as temporary scaffolding until Adrian proves herself mentally and physically able to handle the full capacity of her powers.

Originally assumed that Adrian’s primary mutation was traditional empathy, but abilities are baser, more instinctual, and thus are far more difficult to control. Her abilities lie on the primal level of the human brain, sensing the chemical changes of different emotions. The current theory for this is due to the existence of a “heart-space” in her mind separate from traditional “thought-space”, which operates on a more instinctual level and thus unable to control with typical telepathic methods. Prior to intervention, Adrian was prone to emotional outbursts, meltdowns, and periods of psychosis. With correct training and positive reinforcement, has extreme potential for power increase, control and evolution.

Brought to Xavier’s School at age 13, but not put into duty as an X-Men until age 14 and not given full membership until age 15 due to concerns over power stability. Youngest of the original class of mutants and as of current update, youngest student I have taken on. Left duty at 18 to pursue an Art History degree at Barnard College.

*note: as of latest update, only two psychic blocks have been removed. Check-ins occur every six months to adjust and remove as necessary*

*addendum: as of April, Adrian has been put on indefinite academic leave from Barnard, due to several incidents of mental trouble and poor grades*

*addendum: back in active duty*

NOTES

extreme potential but concerned about mental ability to achieve it

shows great skill in secondary mutation, only two known instances of any problems with psychic constructs due to mental distress

mental health continues to be a concern, but diagnosis proves difficult due to mutations

social anxiety in human-dominated spaces, behaviour is far improved around mutants (potential difference in emotional outputs?)

capable of co-leadership but should not be given sole leadership on any missions

currently little contact with non-mutants, no contact with parents, no known friends at college. Known human associates include:

Sara Grey-Bailey (Sister)

Peter Parker (former boyfriend, current acquaintance)

Piper Parker (Peter’s sister, roommate)

thrives in structured environments, but continues to have issues following direct orders

skill in martial arts and swordsmanship – primary weapon in battle is a psychically constructed sword (should pursue further?)

skill in sculpture and pottery (physical manifestation of secondary mutation?)

interest in musical theatre (soprano)

[see the rest and to stay on top of new updates, as well as fun facts about references and comic book lore here at my AO3!]

#kurt wagner x oc #kurt wagner fic #kurt wagner #nightcrawler x oc #nightcrawler fic #nightcrawler #x men fanfiction #uncanny xmen #adrian grey

3 notes · View notes

jkstompers · 4 years

Text

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

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markberries · 4 years

Text

d e s i r e┊draco malfoy

anon requested: hey!! unsure if u do requests for stories BUT i saw a tiktok and rlly want it to be a full story (or one shot). so: draco is late to class, and is there for volunteered for an experiment, he is told to stand infront of a mirror (he doenst know it but it’s the erised mirror) and he asks Y/N to move out of the way but ur not there, he only sees u bc he desires u, everyone laughs then there’s a party and u okay 7 min in heaven, and draco and Y/N get picked then SMUT

info: you and draco liked to bicker; turns out draco wanted a bit more from you. it took him a look into the mirror of erised to realize it.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, cursing, fingering, oral (giving)

genre: SMUT, hufflepuff!reader, fem reader

word count: 2400+

a/n: hihi, i hope this is something close to what you wanted. sorry for the wait!! the request confused me at first but i think i understood it. this is also unedited bc i’m lazy

“draco malfoy, late again?” the professor sighed, not looking at malfoy who was quietly taking his seat. instead, the professor just shook his head in disappointment.

“yeah yeah, won’t happen again,” draco snickered, playfully shoving goyle and crabbe. all three of them were quietly giggling in amusement, as if the entire school was a joke to them.

the professor raised an eyebrow at draco, crossing his arms. unimpressed, he stared draco down. “you have been saying that for the past three classes you were late to as well, mr. malfoy.”

you held back your laughter as draco got scolded, only because you knew that draco was an arse so watching him get in trouble up close was definitely a treat for you.

draco was quick to turn to you, who was sitting at the table to his right. “got something to say, mudblood?” he snapped at you, and you glared at him.

“got some daddy issues to fix, malfoy?” you shot back, venom lacing your voice.

“alright you two,” the professor said, walking to the middle of the room, eyes switching from malfoy to you. “that’s quite enough for today. since mr. malfoy had the audacity to come in late once again, he will be our beloved volunteer for our experiment today.”

draco raises his hand, “i will not be agreeing to that, professor. it’s just not fair.”

“and it’s not fair that you’re wasting my time, so i advise you to come up here now, because you don’t have a choice,” the professor gestured for malfoy to come to him, you hear a grumble from draco, followed by his chair being pushed back.

draco walked up to a large object covered by a black drape in the middle of the room, standing right in front of it. draco made sure to give you a nasty look before getting to the front.

the professor moved out of the way to remove the drape, but not before saying, “okay, mr. malfoy. i want you to describe to me what you see when i remove this cloth.”

“easy enough,” draco smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, arrogance oozing off of him. when the professor withdraws the drape, draco looks closesly. it’s a mirror with a golden lining, decorated with intricate designs and beautiful patterns. it’s much larger than draco, and light rays bounce off it throughout the room.

“if you don’t move out of the way y/l/n,” draco sneers, making you squint your eyes in confusion, “i swear i’ll-”

“that’s enough mr. malfoy, you can sit down now.”

draco turned around, only to see you sitting down in your chair, who was just as confused as him. while he walked back to his seat, the professor eyed him, then started pacing slowly around the room while talking.

“now,” he began, “this here, is the mirror of erised.” you hear small giggles coming from the class room, followed by malfoy’s face turning a slight tint of pink.

“shove off!” malfoy yells, muttering to himself in annoyance. you of course, shared the same amount of embarrassment. you knew exactly what the mirror of erised was, and so did most people in this room. it made you visualize what you truly desired, so the fact that draco malfoy had seen you in the reflection, was quite a surprise.

“every student will have a chance to take a look, so don’t worry too much. please form a single file line, and we will begin.”

—

“you’re kidding,” cedric snickers, covering his mouth with his hand. cedric was an awful good friend of yours, being the first person to offer you a seat when you had gotten sorted into hufflepuff. quite ironic, really. you never imagined yourself to be put into such a happy little house.

“honestly? i wish i was. draco can be such a little prick,” you remarked, sipping at your butterbeer. students gathered in the three broom sticks, the familiar scent of sweat emanating from the hufflepuff and slytherin quidditch team. the slytherin house had just received a bitter defeat, causing them to throw glares at the opposing team.

“so what are you gonna do about it then? talk to him?” cedric questioned you, and you shrugged shoulders. you were at a loss for what to do about malfoy. you were unsure if he was even worth talking to, after all the constant negative comments that he just loved to yell at you.

“do i wanna talk to him?” you asked, crossing your legs while you sat in your chair. cedric raised a brow, “am i supposed to answer that question?”

“no,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. being friends with cedric had it’s pros and it’s cons, but he gave a good amount of advice and he was always reliable. you hear a call for cedric’s name coming from the crowd of boys and girls, his eyes shoot to the group.

“what is it?” he says back, standing up from his chair.

“come on then, we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!”

such a childish game, you thought to yourself. it surprised you that people were still interested in playing. cedric looked to you, then back at the group, “i won’t go if you won’t go.”

“what a flirt,” you say with a hint of a sarcastic tone. you playfully kick his leg, making him yelp, “i’m just trying to be nice!”

“well i’m surely not going,” you responded, taking a sip from your drink again. cedric’s grey eyes bored into your own, he smelt of chocolate mixed with his clean shampoo.

“don’t be such a wussy, mudblood,” you hear a familiar voice snarl. you snap your head to see draco, standing in the middle of the crowd, laughing with his group of friends. you felt a surge of anger, and cedric took note of it. he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your chair.

“y/n and i will be participating!” cedric announces , dragging you to the group of people gathered around a table.

“cedric! what in god’s name are you doing?” you exclaim, desperately trying to escape from his strong grip. “ow ow ow, could you at least be a little gentler?”

“this is your chance, if you get paired up with someone, you’ll see malfoy’s reaction,” he whispers closely into your ear. when the two of you stop in front of the group, you swear you can practically hear how badly the other girls wanted cedric to be their partner.

“what if i don’t want to see his reaction?” you complained back, and cedric patted your head. “then too bad.”

“alright everyone, the rules are simple; a person is selected to spin the bottle. whoever the bottle lands on, those two will go into the backrooms together. would anyone like to go first?”

“y/n does,” cedric yells, slightly pushing you forward. you scowl at him, in return he sends you a shit-eating grin. you wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smile off his face, but you stayed civil for the sake of the others gathered around you.

“alright y/n, go on,” blaise says, placing the bottle on the table. you gave cedric the “i’m going to kill you when this is over” look as you sighed, placing your hand on the bottle. you span it, watching as the boys began to shift awkwardly.

you nearly gag when the bottle lands on the one person you did not want to share a small, closed room with. people coo, laughing and making immature comments. draco malfoy shoves his friend, threatening him.

“i’m not entering a closet with that mudblood,” he scoffs, pointing at you disrespectfully. you stop yourself from punching malfoy, instead you say, “look who’s scared now.”

“what did you just say?” draco hissed, taking a step closer to you. “why would i be scared.”

you dust off his robe in a mocking way, smiling at him. “you tell me, malfoy.”

whispers filled the room, as if everyone was waiting for draco to explode. he took a deep breath, grabbing your arm aggressively. people eyed the both of you as he brought you to the backrooms, knowing hell would break loose with you two alone.

seven minutes, alone with draco. what could go wrong?

when you two stepped into the small space, you went to the farthest point of the room. it was littered with cleaning supplies and smelt a little bit like bleach. draco stared at you, and you looked back. “what do you want?”

“you think i wanted to do this?” draco spat at you, leaning back on the wall.

“and how do you think i feel?” you said back, throwing a scrunched up paper towel at him. “as if i wanted to be in a room with you. you’re annoying, stuck up, and a spoiled brat.”

“wow, who would think that a bitch would get sorted into hufflepuff,” he says sarcastically.

“got a lot to say for someone who saw me in the mirror of erised,” you retort, fanning your face. it was getting quite warm in this tight space.

“it was probably a mistake, who would desire you anyway,” he retaliates getting closer to you. you take a step closer to him as well, your faces nearly touching.

“you’d be surprised,” you argue. you two were so close that you could make out the details of his face. you could see something flash in his eyes, it didn’t look like anger, but you chose to believe that it was.

“do you ever stop talking? just shut up already. i’ve had enough of hearing your voice.”

you scoff, looking down at your feet, then looking back up into draco’s eyes. in all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect after saying this. you felt your hands shaking a little bit, ignoring the adrenaline pumping through you

“make me.”

in that moment, you swear you heard your own heart beating. did you want this? did draco understand what you were hinting at? your questions were soon answered when draco pushes you up against the wall, taking your hands and pinning them above your head.

“i’ll make you, alright,” he smirks, placing kisses along your jawline. he presses his knee between your legs. he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin. you let out a breathy whine, trying to bring your arms down to wrap around draco’s neck, but he keeps your hands in place.

“you want this, don’t you?” he whispers, leaving more marks on your neck.

“mhm, yes draco,” you say back, feeling yourself growing wetter.

“good girl.”

he smashes his own lips against yours, his actions filled with need and passion. he slightly bites on your bottom lip, looking into your eyes. he breaks the kiss, letting go off your hands. he undoes his belt, pulling his pants down slightly, but not all the way.

“we haven’t got much time,” he says, dragging his thumb along your cheek. he touches your bottom lip, and you open your mouth in response, sucking on his thumb.

“fuck,” he groans, watching you with lust filled eyes. “you’re so hot.” he removes his thumb from your mouth, and you lower yourself to his boxers, tugging down the fabric. his member springs free, and he lets out a hiss from the sudden contact of air.

you smirk, licking a stripe. draco moans, grabbing onto the shelf above him. you begin to take him in, swirling your tongue around him. his size was about average, but on the thicker side. he grunts as you hollow your cheeks.

“oh fuck, just like that,” he groans. the tip of his dick touches the back of your throat, making you gag. he moans, but louder this time as he grabs your hair. your eyes start forming tears, but you hold them back.

you hollow out your cheeks, slowly moving back and forth.

“god, y/n, you’re so pretty even when you’re sucking my dick,” he says, lost in the moment as you continue to move faster, using your hands on whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. you feel your lips getting swollen as you continue to move faster.

“look at you,” he groans, his face full of pleasure as he looks down at you. “such a fucking good girl.”

you feel his member twitch in your mouth, and you knew he was close to finishing. you took this as a chance to move faster, bobbing your head as fast as you could.

he groans, panting your name as he used your hair to guide how to move.

“i’m gonna come,” he says breathily, “fuck!”

he comes in your mouth, but you don’t mind. it’s not the worst that could happen, after all. you stand up, wiping your mouth as draco is leaning against the wall. he doesn’t rest for long though, as he grabs your waist, pulling you close to him.

“your turn,” he whispers, pushing your skirt up and slipping a hand into your exposed panties. he feels around your wetness, collecting it and bringing it out.

“mm, did i do this?” he asks, and you whimper a “yes”.

he slips his hand back in, finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing them slowly. you gasp, gripping at his jacket and biting on his shoulder. he chuckles, dragging a finger down to insert into you. he pushes in slowly, and you bite down harder, not wanting to make too much noise.

“no no, i don’t want you to be quiet, i want to see your face,” draco says, using his free hand to grab your chin and make you look at him. “that’s right, let me see how you feel.”

he pushes in and out of your heat at a steady pace, the room smelt of sex and his cologne. you were a moaning mess as draco continued his motions, bringing in another finger.

“does that feel good?” draco asks, and you nod in response. “i want your words, baby.”

“y-yes draco, please don’t stop,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“oh baby, i wasn’t planning on it,” he replies, entering a third finger and thrusting faster. at this point, you’re pretty much a moaning mess. the feeling of his long slender fingers was so much to handle, you felt yourself building up to your climax.

“that’s right baby, fuck, you’re clenching around my fingers,” he smirks, knowing that you were going to come. “i want you to say my name. tell people who’s making you feel this good.”

“it’s you, draco, oh my god!” you yelp, the fabric of his robe was bunching up in your hands. suddenly, your orgasm washes over you, your stomach moving in twists and turns. you felt so relieved, draco removed his hand, his fingers covered in your juices. all that could be heard was the sound of you and draco’s heavy breathing.

a knock comes from outside the room, “guys? it’s been over seven minutes.”

#draco #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #harry potter #cedric diggory #smut #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine

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mochiusagifanficchaos · 3 years

Text

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part1•

„So, do you guys know what you want to eat?", asked John Watson in a slightly impatient tone. You could tell that he was hungry and did not felt like waiting any longer, just because the Holmes brothers made an eye-contact-battle.

Mycroft cleared his throat and gave the menu a quick look.

„Yes", he said and waved a young girl with a white apron over to the table.

You saw a man at a table right in front of the window waving so you quickly made your way to him. On the way, you struggled to get your notebook out of your pockets from the apron but had it in your hands, right at the moment when the man began speaking.

"One steak and one spaghetti.", he said and turned away from you again.

How rude, you thought, but nodded in a polite way and smiled.

Then you looked at the guy sitting on the right side of the table, wanting to know what he was going to order, but the man wasn't even looking up to you. His eyes were fixed on a paper that was lying in front of him on the table. You already knew him.

Since you have started to work at the Café you saw him now and then, always sitting at the same table, never ordering something to eat, rarely a cup of tea.

"Nothing for me, thank you.", he suddenly said and changed the pages of his paper.

Puzzled you let your pen slide back in your pockets, nodded once again and turned around.

"Why aren't you going to eat?", the men who ordered the food asked and just got a cold: "I don't eat when I'm working, digestion slows me down.", as a response.

"How did you know what I was going to order?", you heard one of the men asking as you walked back to the counter to give the cook your note.

You turned around again to face into the direction of the three men.

The man with the short dark hair, well the 'rude man' to put it into better words, just opened his mouth to say something, but got cut off by the guy in front of him.

"Your finger John, ", he said, his eyes still analyzing the papers in front of him. "It's on Spaghetti."

The man, called John, sighted and turned his glance to the window: "Obvious. Of course."

"WAITER!", someone suddenly yelled and you winced, nearly dropping your notebook.

You looked around to meet the gaze of two angry-looking men which were wearing expensive-looking suits and hats, black leather gloves and were smoking a strong cigar, you could smell it, even though you were on the other end of the Café.

Slowly you walked to the two men and bowed slightly, which was meant as an excuse.

"Not even an apology. Tsk.", the man with the cigar in his hand said and dumped the ash down into a vase.

You took the cigar out of his hand angrily but also carefully.

He rapidly stood up from his chair and crashed his fist onto the wooden table.

You flinched back a little but calmly pointed to a sign over the counter.

It showed a red crossed out cigarette.

Unwillingly he slowly sat down again, still glaring at you, but you just responded with a sweet smile.

You went to the counter again, putting the cigar into a trash bin and came back to the table, whipping your pen out and holding it over your notebook, ready to write.

Since none of them was talking to you, you looked the man on your right into his eyes, raised an eyebrow and tilted your head a bit. Your way of asking what he wanted to order.

After some seconds the man understood: " Two Cappuccino, please."

You nodded and gave him a polite smile again. Hearing the other man getting something out of his pocket, you looked at him, noticing that he just fetched a new cigar.

You gave him a warning look before bringing the cook the note with the two Cappuccino.

Right in time.

He was just placing two plates on the counter, took a peep at the note, looked at you and you nodded. Making the drinks was your job and you knew it, but the cook, or well the Chef, with his brown hair tied up into a plait, and his big belly, stretching the white shirt, always wanted to make sure. He was a nice guy, never being angry, even when you made mistakes, he was always calm.

And for some reason, the man that never eats here did not need to pay his orders, which also counts for his friend, John.

You learned that right on your first day here and embarrassed yourself.

The Chef went back into his kitchen and you behind the counter, making two cappuccino and some black tea.

You wanted to be attentive towards the man who was here so often and thought it would be a good idea to bring him a cup of tea. He does not need to pay it anyway.

You took the water boiler off of his socket and poured the hot water into a cup with a black teabag.

And over your hand.

You pulled your hand back out of reflex and squeezed your eyes tight, whimpering silent because of the pain pulsing in your right hand.

Fast you let cool water run over it and flinched as the water hit your burned spot.

With tears in your eyes, you grabbed a little can of milk and poured a bit into the tea.

Blinking the teardrops away you grabbed the two plates in your left and the tea in your right hand, bringing it to the table with the 3 men.

You placed the food in front of John and the 'rude-man' and the tea in front of the other man.

He was still looking at his papers, ruffling his hands through his brown, messy hair.

"Thank you.", he said in his warm voice while continuing to dead glare the black letters on the paper. "And hold your hand under lukewarm water, because of your burn."

You nodded, confused, about the fact that he knew that you burned yourself but put it off with the explanation that he saw your red hand.

Over 30 minutes had passed now and your hand still felt like it was burning. You placed it under water, put ice on it, holding it under water again but it just wouldn't get better.

It even got difficult to carry plates and glasses with your right hand, forcing you to go more often to a table because you couldn't carry it all at once anymore.

Luckily the Cafè wasn't well patronized today so you could spend some time on cooling your hand.

You just wiped your hand dry as you noticed John and the other men standing up from the table.

Hurriedly you wrote the price of the steak on a paper from your notebook and ripped it out while rushing to them, giving the 'rude-man' the bill.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow: "Why do I have to pay? I thought Sherlock gets free food here.", he said arrogant and wanted to return his bill, but you already wrote something on a new one and showed it to him: 'Fiat from the Chef, sorry".

Groaning he pulled his wallet out of his pant pockets and gave you the exact sum.

You looked at him disappointed. Not even a little tip. Are you this bad at your job or is this guy just as rude as a tart?

"Where's Sherlock?", John suddenly asked and looked around the Cafè. You also looked around but he was nowhere to be seen. "He already left?", John asked again but you just shook your head before going to the counter to put the money into the till.

From the corner of your eye, you saw someone moving next to you.

You looked up and saw Sherlock standing next to you with your Jacket over his arm.

Wondering you replied his eye contact and tilted your head again like you always do when you wait for an answer.

"Come with us. I already talked to the Chef, don't worry. John needs to look at your hand, he is a doctor.", he said and walked to the front door.

Confused you took of your apron and hung it onto a hash on the wall, following Sherlock, who was already waiting outside.

Your mother always told you not to go with strangers, but it felt like you already knew him for a long time.

Well, you knew which kind of tea he liked with how much milk if that isn't something.

Sherlock was heading for a door left from the Cafè with the Number "221B" written on it.

He unlocked the door and went in, the 'rude-no-tip-man' called for Sherlock: " Are you going to attend the matter??"

"Yes, yes, maybe.", it came out of the house.

"It is from national concernment!"

"I know Mycroft."

Sighing he turned to John: " Goodbye, Doctor Watson.", and turned to the street to wave for a cab.

"Goodbye.", he responded.

You followed Sherlock into the house, John gave you the advantage so you needed to look around for the door in which Sherlock went by yourself.

But since only one door was open, you found it easily.

With an uncomfortable feeling, you stepped into the room.

It smelled like cigarette smoke and it definitely needed to be a window opened to let some fresh air inside. On your right side was a big yellow Smiley drawn on the wall with... holes.

You wondered what they were but Sherlock already answered: "Gunshots."

You looked at him blank.

Your head slowly tilted to the side and you furrowed your eyebrows.

He waved the sentence with his hand out of the air and pointed to a grey leather armchair, next to a brown-red fireplace.

"Sit down, John will take care of your hand.", he said and walked into what looked like a kitchen.

You set down on the armchair and sank into it. It was really comfortable, you had to admit

and you liked the big red carpet right under your feed.

John came through the door with a small white box in his hands. He smiled at you and kneeled down before you.

"Give me your hand", he said, opening the box with his right and carefully grabbing your hand with his left.

He sprayed something on it which smelled like sanitizer then rubbed a white cream on it and bind your hand with a bandage.

You smiled thankfully at him and tried to move your fingers, but a sharp pain rushed through your hand and made the once cold cream felt burning hot.

"No, no. don't move it. I am going to give you a new bandage with cream tomorrow and in 2-3 days it should be better again.", he informed you and closed the white box again.

Then he stood up and slumped into the red armchair in front of you.

"So, what's your name?", he asked you, still with this warm smile on his face. It seemed like he still hasn't noticed that you were mute. You automatically grabbed to your pocket, to get your notebook, but it was empty.

Then you remembered. You forgot to take it out of your apron. Goddammit!

Now you were sitting there, helplessly looking back at John Watson.

"She is mute.", Sherlock said, coming out of the kitchen and walking over to a messy desk, taking a paper and pen from it and giving it to you.

"Oh.", John answered surprised. "I thought she was just very shy. How did you notice?"

"She didn't talk one word back in the Cafè, even when she was scared. Do you remember? The two guys with the cigar? "

You scrawly wrote something under your name on the paper and showed it to Sherlock.

'I was NOT scared!'

"Of course, of course."

"That's all why you knew she is mute?", John asked again and got a disappointed look from Sherlock.

"My good friend, John, you are the doctor here. I assumed that you would notice the characteristics of a mute human-being! Especially because she got a thin scar on her throat."

"Yes, yes! My god Sherlock, I admit that I am a man with a small little brain which is, like you say, boring inside.", John huffed. " What was her name again?"

"Y/N.", Sherlock answered.

"Why are you letting her sit on your chair anyway?"

"Because she is hurt."

"You normally never let someone sit in your chair, no matter if they are hurt or not."

"She brings me tea."

"Mrs Hudson also brings you tea."

"Mrs Hudson isn't making the tea right."

"Ah. Of course.", John rolled his eyes at Sherlock.

He just ignored him and gave you something, which he was holding in his hand the whole time.

"For the tea.", he said with the same expression on his face like always. It wasn't a deadly serious expression, just a nonemotional, even though you thought his eyes were looking more gentle than usual.

Part two will be up next weekend! 😊

#fanfiction #sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fandom #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #x reader #reader insert #wattpad

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solarwonux · 4 years

Text

24H || Seuncheol

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested.

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at.

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on.

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains.

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take.

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine.

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again.

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop. “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito.

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day.

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.”

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger.

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs.

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved.

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over.

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.”

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing.

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life.

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it.

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white.

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined.

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.”

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him.

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself.

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently.

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?”

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for.

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.”

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid.

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind.

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t.

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder.

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again.

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either.

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning.

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love.

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him.

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs.

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other.

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him.

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from.

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less.

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms.

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side.

She left and he had given up love for good.

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua.

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores.

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late.

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again.

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life.

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise.

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall.

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone.

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him.

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home.

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace.

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce.

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was.

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet.

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover.

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do.

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness.

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride.

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years.

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more.

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out.

“Just come after work...it’s important.”

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life.

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas.

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down.

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back.

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes.

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams.

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground.

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light.

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do.

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt.

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years.

“It’s okay, I am here.”

285 notes · View notes

hoseokslefteyebrow · 3 years

Text

An Act Of Kindness || M.YG

Pairing : Min Yoongi X Reader

Genre : soft yandere?

Summary : When your summer camp groupmates decide to go 'off rhe road', everything goes wrong.

Wordcount: 2.6k lol

[ A/N: Suggested for my Baby Project series, but it was a little too dark so here's a one shot instead. I'm not exactly great at 'yandere' genre yet so like,, I tried lol.Enjoy!]

" I don't know about this guys." You tell your annoying group mates as you're walking of the path and into the depths of the forest.

One of your groupmates, Heeyoung huffs as she looks over her shoulder at you.

" Psh, don't be such a whimp. We're just going off the road to make a shortcut." She tells you.

Jungkook grins at you from a few steps up front.

" Relax, it'll be fine. Besides, we've got the map, nothing will go wrong." He smiles, waving said paper map with his hand.

You still hesitate.

" I really don't know guys, they did forecast that it'll rain today too. Besides, how do we even know where we are from the map? If we walk off the path, we won't be able to track our own location." You point out.

You really aren't in the mood to die just because of these people. You've seen enough horror movies.

" Relax, it'll be fine." Jimin nudged you from beside.

You look at Jimin's face, the male has always quite charmed you in a way, and unlike the other two, he wasn't quite as annoying either.

" Jungkook's right. What could go wrong?" He smiles at you.

Quite frankly, almost everything went wrong.

It's now around 4 hours later, and the four of you are hopelessly lost in the depths of the forest.

It's raining now too, buckets of water falling from the grey skies, not exactly pleasant.

" Wait, can you show me the map one more time?" Heeyoung asks Jungkook as an excuse to huddle close to him.

He looks at her weirdly as she presses herself up against his arm, but doesn't comment on it. Figuring she probably just feels cold.

All of you are dressed in shorts and a t-shirt after all, except for you, as you're also wearing a long sleeved up zip up hoodie. You were lowkey prepared for this, but considering it's been raining for at least 30 minutes now, your small preparation had no effect anymore, and so you too have chattering teeth.

You watch in disappointment when Jungkook unfolds the soaked map, only to have it literally slip through his fingers, the flimsy pieces of paper falling hopelessly on the ground.

Heeyoung watches the thing fall before hitting Jungkook, now suddenly mad.

" You know what? This is all your fault! If you hadn't soaked the map!-"

" My fault?! You wanted to walk off the damn path!" Jungkook argued right back at her.

You pinched your brows. Great, so you were stuck with two idiots now too.

" Okay, uhm, let's just not blame anyone. It can't change how we're situated now, let's just find shelter and check our phones." Jimin suggests.

You nod numbly, teeth chattering as all of you go to seek for coverage.

Jungkook and Heeyoung are suddenly not attached to the hip anymore as you do so, it appeared the girl wasn't interested in him anymore.

" Hey, uhm, I'm sorry for not listening to you. I should've agreed." Jimin says as he now walks beside you.

You smile at him gratefully.

" Thanks, I appreciate that actually."

He nods.

" So, uhm, do you mind if I hold your hand? I know we're not close and all, but you seem cold, and I can't exactly offer you my jacket, not to mention that I'm quite cold too." He suggests, not looking at you as he says so.

You smile at his antics, finding his behavior cute.

" Sure." You reply shortly as you move to grab a hold on Jimin's hand.

His fingers interlock with yours easily. Both of your skins feel cold, even against each other, but it admittedly felt nice to not feel alone in a situation like this.

It isn't until another twenty minutes later that Jungkook has found something.

" Guys! Look at that! That seems like shelter." Jungkook says, pointing to, what seems to be, part of a roof.

Jimin and you exchange glances.

For some reason, it felt like he was asking something, and so you shrug as a response.

He nods before turning back to the other two.

" Okay, let's go there."

" Nope, mine is dead too." Jimin sighs, pocketing his phone before running the same hand through his hair.

He hasn't let go of your hand since thirty minutes ago, except for when you took out your phone, and for some reason, the small action made you feel a little funnier about Jimin.

The four of you are stood in front of, what seems to be, an abandoned, mansion. Most blinds are closed, but the blinds that are open show dark rooms, and are mostly on the second floor.

" We could, try to knock?" Heeyoung suggests.

You blink, looking up at the bit of the building you can see. For some reason, it gives you a cold vibe.

" I don't thinks anyone even lives here-"

You've barely finished your sentence when Heeyoung is already knocking.

You sigh, not all too surprised by her in all honesty.

However, surprise and fear greet you as the door suddenly jiggles.

Jungkook's eyes widen, and Jimin tugs you closer to him as the sound sounds.

All of you are even more surprised when the door opens, being greeted by a rather old looking male, who blinks at all of you.

" Excuse me, but can I help you?" The man asks politely.

He seems to be around his fourties at least, and all of you let out a breath.

" Hello! Sorry for suddenly knocking. It's just that it's raining-"

As she speaks, it also starts to thunder.

What a great moment.

" - And thundering, so we wondered if we could stay here for a while until the weather dies down a bit." She asks them, a friendly smile on her face.

The male clears his throat.

" Well then, please come in and wait here in the hallway. I will ask master Min for permission." He tells her before opening the door wider.

She smiles, turning to all of you, and motioning with her head to follow her in.

You all do so. The hallway is large, stereo typical for a mansion, with multiple doors, and a clean marble floor, along with a grand staircase to the second floor.

You subconsciously tighten your grip on Jimin's hand.

He turns to you with a worried expression.

" You okay? We can go if you think it's a bad idea." He tells you.

You're barely turning to look at him before he clarifies.

" I trust your judgement."

" Oh. I see. Well, I really don't know. It feels here kind of off? But I feel like it's going to storm soon, so maybe we should just ask for a phone connection and wait here." You suggest.

He hums.

" Sounds like a plan to me."

A few moments later the man returns, a kind smile on his face.

" The master will be with us shortly, he'd like to know who'd be seeking shelter in his house before he will grant it." The man smiles.

As you study his stance, you realize that this man is most probably a staff.

" Oh, where are my manners? My name is Charles, I'm the butler of this mansion." He smiles.

Jungkook nods, about to introduce himself, when the sound of clacking shoes sounds.

All of you turn to the grand staircase, where a single male is walking down from. Your eyes widen in surprise. The male who's walking down said stairs is stunning. He's got a pale skin, black hair, and is wearing a dark blue suit with a white button up underneath.

Who relaxes in that kind of outfit? Not that you'll complain or anything, he was admittedly good looking. He walks down unbothered, seemingly not bothered by your looks.

" Say whatever you want, but he is very handsome." Heeyoung whispers to you.

You nod silently in response, and Jimin clears his throat.

You turn to blink at him.

" Something wrong?" you ask him.

" No not-"

" My name is Min Yoongi. I live here. Who are you?"

It appeared the male, now known as Min Yoongi, had already come to a stop in front of you.

" Right, sorry! My name is Heeyoung, these are Jungkook, Jimin and Y/N." Heeyoung smiles at him.

He doesn't smile back, simply letting his eyes go over all of your forms for a moment. You shivered as his eyes went over your form.

" Fine, you may stay for now. Has any of you had dinner yet?" He asks, voice deep, and eyes holding a bored expression.

" Dinner? We've only had breakfast!-"

" Uhm, thank you! But, that's not necessary. If we could maybe make a call though, that'd be great." You hurriedly stop Jungkook.

Yoongi raises a brow at you in surprise, as both Heeyoung and Jungkook come at you.

" Okay, y'know what?! This is enough. He's literally being nice to us by offering us a meal, and you're just going to turn him down? What is wrong with you?!" Heeyoung yells at you.

" C'mon Y/N. Just one meal? We're all hungry." Jungkook tries, a little more softly.

Yoongi watches you and your friends sharply, not exactly amused by the rudeness of your group mate.

You squeeze Jimin's hand softly as you step back, not entirely sure on what to do.

" Alright, uhm, let's not get mad at her. And staying for one meal should be alright. Right?" He tries too.

You sigh, but nod anyway.

The meal was filled with chatter of your groupmates and charles, Yoongi was mostly silent, and so were you. Heeyoung tried her best to get Yoongi's attention, often complementing him for the meal and his hospitality, he didn't really do much in return, simply nodding until he at some point friendly told her to sod off.

Soon after you tried ringing the camp, but to your disappointment, the lines were dead, and the storm had only worsened.

" It's dead. Any idea if we can fix it?" You asked Yoongi as you put the phone away.

He shook his head, bangs moving.

" I'm afraid not. I can offer all of you a bed for tonight only." He suggests, messing his hair up.

You bite your lip in thought, looking out of the window beside you.

The storm certainly wasn't going to get better anytime soon.

You sighed, before nodding. Going out there now was a death wish.

" That'd be nice. Thank you, and I'm sorry for us suddenly turning up on your doorstep." You tell him.

He shakes his head.

" Don't worry about it."

About an hour later you're seated on your bed. You, Jimin, Heeyoung and Jungkook all had your own rooms. The other three in the bedrooms across the hallway from you while you're situated beside Min Yoongi's very own bedroom.

After about twenty minutes, there's a knock sounding at your door.

" Come in." You call out.

The door opens, and you're surprised to find Yoongi standing there.

" Oh, hi. Is everything alright?" You ask him.

He hums.

" Yeah, just wanted to talk to you, if you don't mind. " He tells you with a small smile.

You nod, sitting down at the bed as he sits down opposite you at the desk.

Conversation went surprisingly smooth, after a few minutes into talking, it went as if you two knew each other for years.

" Y'know, you seem to be a pretty perfect person." He tells you as your laughter died down.

You snorted.

" Pft, nah. My grades really prove otherwise." You tell him.

You're flattered a man of his 'rank' thinks like that about you, but you really don't agree.

He grins.

" Grades are just a social structure." He shrugs.

You smile at him.

" Thanks, but really though. No one is perfect. Especially not me." You tell him honestly.

You don't hate yourself, but that doesn't mean you view yourself as perfect either.

He shakes his head.

" I think your head's messing with you due to the time. I'll see you tomorrow. You guys can still stay for breakfast right?" He asks.

You think about it for a moment.

You're already here anyway. How bad could staying over for breakfast be?

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that it's already light out.

The second thing you notice is that it's eerily quiet.

You bolt out of bed, changing in the bathroom and folding the borrowed clothes on the sink. There's a packaged toothbrush by the sink too, and so you brush your teeth before going downstairs.

"Y/N?" You suddenly hear Yoongi's voice from somewhere beside you.

You turn around in surprise, barely tripping over your feet in your hurry.

Yoongi reacts quickly, catching you by your shoulders and holding you upright.

you both blink at each other before he gently lets go of you.

" Sorry, uhm- What are you doing here?" He asks you.

You furrow your brows at him.

" What do you mean? Where's the rest?" You ask him confused.

" They left already, I thought you went with them." He blinks.

Did they really leave you?

Meanwhile Jimin is looking around him in confusion.

Where was he?

He looks around, checking his surroundings.

He, Jungkook and Heeyoung seemed to be sleeping in a clearing in the forest. It takes him a moment before he remembers what happened. It takes him another moment before he realizes you're missing.

Jungkook wakes up soon after.

" Hey, where's Y/N?" Jimin asks him.

Jungkook blinked, before rolling on his side.

"Idunno, probably still asleep." He mumbles sleepily.

Jimin rolls his eyes before throwing sand at the younger, who's quick to get up.

"What the hell?-"

"What are you lads doing here?" Another voice suddenly joins the conversation.

Both males look up, only to see a man, seemingly a little over his 25's standing there.

" Uhm, hi. We're kind of lost." Jungkook explains, waking up Heeyoung before getting up and dusting off his pants.

The man blinks before nodding.

" I can see that yeah." He responds dumbly.

" We also lost a group mate. Seen a mansion around?" Jimin asks him.

At the words of a mansion, the male pales.

" You don't mean to say you're lost travelers?- I- I thought that curse was gone." The man spoke warily.

Heeyoung, who now got up, switched wary glances with Jungkook.

" Curse?" She asked.

" Yeah, there's a curse of a mansion. Apparently the Min family lived there somewhere back in the 1800's or something, but a burglar got in and killed most of the family, apart from their twenty-something year old son. A few years ago we found bodies here, on the very place you're standing right now, they were barely alive but managed to warn us. They were the last people who came from that mansion, until you that is." He explains with wide eyes.

No one knew how to react to that.

Did this mean you're dead?

" You see whenever it storms, people turn up dead. Except for the people before you. You're the only ones to have made it out alive and well. You're the first survivors- But your friend..." He trails off.

Jimin's hand balls into a fist, as Jungkook's doe eyes widen and Heeyoung held her hand over her mouth in shock.

Did they really kill you by not listening to you?

#bts #yandere x reader #yandere bts #one shot #min yoongi x reader #park jimin x reader #haunted au

80 notes · View notes

writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

does it ever drive you crazy? // george weasley

Summary: lovers // you didn’t know when exactly it got hard to be friends with george weasley

Request: nee

A/N: so this is the last part!!!!! Very much hope you like and much thank to Erica ( @ickle-ronniekins ) for being excited about this bc if she wasn’t, I almost definitely wouldn’t have written this ALSO ok but scepticism is such a weird word

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: swearing

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

It didn’t take a genius to know where Hermione would be, you thought as you searched around the library for her huddled figure. You grinned as you approached her, the book in your hand heavy as you got closer. She smiled when she saw you, watching you with curiosity as you dragged the chair opposite her out and sat down.

She looked at you expectantly as you pulled out the book from behind your back and presented it to her.

“A first edition Moby Dick?” she whispered; her eyes glued to the cover. “How on Earth-“

“My parents. It’s for you.”

Her head shot up so fast you would’ve thought she got whiplash.

“I couldn’t accept-“ she said quickly. “Why?”

“I heard you decked Malfoy last year,” you said with a smirk, leaning your chin on your hand, pleased to see her so happy about your gift.

“Oh.”

“I just wanted to support any efforts you had to repeat the incident.”

She grinned widely, looking back at the book in her hands, hugging it to her chest slightly.

“Thank you-“

“Don’t mention it, Granger,” you insisted, shooting her a smile before turning to leave, only to be interrupted by George, who was crouching behind the bookshelf next to you.

“Why are you being so nice?” he asked gruffly, frowning. “You’re never nice; isn’t it against some super-secret Slytherin code to be nice?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

“Perhaps,” you said. “But, I’m nice to you.”

“Right,” he snorted, tilting his head to the side before looking behind you for something, or someone. “Sure, you are.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be if I wanted to be… I just don’t want to be.”

“Now, that’s a lie.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising your eyebrows as he stared past you. “I think that not telling Pince that you’re pulling a prank in the library is quite nice of me.”

His wide eyes shot to yours in panic, not at all relieved by your smug expression. You didn’t say anything else as you left though, and as he watched you saunter out, he frowned. Had your lips always looked like that when you bit them? Why had he noticed?

“Ready, Georgie?” Fred asked, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he looked between your disappearing figure and George’s confused face.

“Yeah, yeah, course.”

After spending the day with them at Hogsmeade, you started spending more and more time with the Weasley twins. You were more surprised than anyone at how much you were enjoying yourself. The new year changed nothing and so, as sixth year rolled around, you found yourself on quite friendly terms with the idiots you’d actually come to enjoy being around, even when they had a tendency to ambush you in corridors.

“What you up to, Y/N?” George asked, scaring the shit out of you as you walked down the hallway. His presence at your side was looming and you tensed at the proximity. Fred appeared over your other shoulder, gifting you with matching shadows.

“Causing trouble?” Fred said conspiratorially.

“Could I ever with you two prats around?” you said, only just noticing their massive grins. “No doubt whatever you’re about to pull will backfire astronomically.”

“Y/N,” Fred gasped, placing his hand on his chest. “Ye of little faith! Do you not trust us?”

You hummed as they stopped outside the Great Hall which was seemingly always full nowadays with people trying to enter their names for the Triwizard Tournament.

“Not particularly, no,” you said, eyebrows raised.

“Oh!” George exclaimed, clapping his palm against his chest exactly as his brother had done. “Dear Y/N, you wound us with your scepticism!”

You shot him a dry look, frowning lightly at the way your stomach twisted as he grinned at you. You leant in the doorway as they rushed inside; their entrance met with a chorus of cheers. Watching them talk to Hermione, you let your head rest on the stone archway. They were such idiots, you thought as you regarded them, your eyes lingering on George’s face, animated as ever.

When they moved closer towards the goblet, you were caught off guard by Hermione’s pointed stare, a smirk playing on her lips. You frowned in confusion and she only shrugged; a very irritating, very knowing shrug. Annoyance coursed through you as she avoided your eyes and you were in half a mind to walk over to her before Fred and George were all but ejected from the cup’s perimeter, soaring backwards as grey hair sprouted all over their faces.

A laugh of disbelief escaped your lips and your hand flew to your mouth as they began to scrap on the floor, rolling around like children even though they looked more like OAPs than reckless tweens. You snorted at them, not at all aware of Hermione’s eyes on you, a curious smile on her lips.

The Triwizard Tournament was the talk of the school and despite the undeniable rush that gossip and competition provided, you found yourself avoiding the whole business entirely. You didn’t know Cedric Diggory too well and you didn’t care all that much for Krum or Fleur Delacour; Harry was another matter, though, and whilst you cared about whether he lived or died, you didn’t think you’d be having sleepovers anytime soon.

And so, you just kept to your studies. Regardless of how crass it sounded, life still went on and whilst the champions were battling dragons, you still had essays to write and tests to revise for. With that said, you did enjoy destroying those stupid badges that had swept through Hogwarts like the plague.

In your spare time, you found great joy in hitting them mercilessly with your quidditch bat, pummelling them until they turned black and stopped with that ridiculous “Potter stinks” slogan. Sure, magic would’ve done the trick, but it was nowhere near as much fun. You were on your fourteenth badge when a presence behind you startled you.

“What’re you doing?” George asked, his tone curious as he stood next to you with his arms crossed.

“Target practice,” you said, not pausing to chat as you threw another badge in the air and sent it slamming into the stone wall opposite.

George didn’t say anything for a moment; he just watched you with a small smile.

“You know, your heart isn’t as ice-cold as you want people to believe,” he said slowly, frowning as he examined your features.

“Is that right?” you asked, your voice deliberately devoid of emotion. “Anything more you’d like to tell me about myself?”

You could feel his eyes on you as you spoke and you cursed the part of your brain that wanted so desperately to blush under the weight of his stare. You swallowed, adjusting your grip on the bat. You could’ve sworn that he didn’t have this effect on you the day before, but your mind wandered back to the strange incident in the hallway outside of Snape’s class and you missed the badge you’d just pitched yourself.

Things with George had gotten weird. You couldn’t place when exactly, but the easy banter you’d developed hardened and you found yourself avoiding him more often than not. It wasn’t easy, though, given the fact that you were supposed to be friends and given the fact that you looked for him around corners, almost disappointed when he wasn’t there.

On some occasions, it was much harder to avoid him than others and despite how much you’d have liked to, you could hardly move when they sat opposite you in silent revision. That would just be rude. You ignored them for a while, acutely aware of their presence when George started muttering to Fred, his voice growing louder and louder.

“Oi, pea-brain,” you hissed, clicking your fingers to get their attention, a strange feeling climbing up your spine as George’s eyes fell on you. “Shut up.”

Fred rocked his head from side to side, imitating you and earning himself a hard kick in the shin under the table.

They managed silence for a whole nine minutes before Fred started poking you with his quill.

“Psst,” he said loudly, prodding you with his finger this time. “Hey-“

“What?” you snapped, scowling at Fred’s pleased grin, not unaware of George’s gaze also on you.

“Did you see the first task?”

“Of course, I did,” you said, returning back to your parchment.

“And?” he pressed, leaning forward.

“And, what?”

“What did you think?”

You paused, looking up from your paper to meet Fred’s eyes. You’d known him well enough long enough to notice when he was up to something. You glanced at George to see if he had the same devilish glint only to see him looking down, though it was obvious he wasn’t doing much with his stationary quill. With your eyebrows drawn down, you looked back at Fred, watching as he raised his eyebrows pointedly.

“Cedric was great, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, I suppose…”

You leant back slightly, confused as to why Fred was pushing the topic so much. Then, though, you realised. It was the way George’s brow furrowed at Cedric’s name that sparked your interest and as you glanced back at Fred, you raised an eyebrow. Was George jealous? Fred nodded.

“He was brilliant, actually,” you said conversationally, rolling your shoulders back. “The transfiguration of the rock into that dog? Quite ingenious to distract the dragon like that.”

“Anyone can do transfiguration,” George muttered under his breath.

A smile quirked at the corner of your lips as you turned to Fred, only growing as he made an upwards motion with his hands, urging you to amp it up a bit.

“And Krum’s conjunctivitis curse? Sort of brilliant for such a meat-head…”

“Sort of brilliant,” George scoffed, shaking his head as his grip on his quill tightened. You considered your interest piqued as you watching him closely this time, gauging his reaction.

“And, well, Harry’s always been an excellent flier, hasn’t he?”

As George rolled his eyes, you snickered, looking to Fred in disbelief.

“George, are you jealous?”

His head shot up quickly as his wide eyes met yours. “Me? What?” he spluttered unconvincingly. “Why would I be jealous?”

His question, to his credit, stumped you. Why would he be jealous? You supposed that an attention seeker like him would love the fame of being a Triwizard champion, but Fred and George still managed to be the names on everyone’s lips with their betting service. It had to be that, though, right? There was no other reason why he’d be jealous.

“No reason,” you said shortly, turning back to your essay.

This time they managed seventeen minutes in silence before George started asking Fred about Potions, a subject Fred knew very little about given his partner was Angelina Johnson. To say he was distracted in those lessons would be a gross understatement.

“I don’t know, mate,” Fred said apologetically, frowning when George groaned. You told yourself not to, but the words were already spilling out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop yourself.

“I can help,” you offered, sealing your mouth shut. When you did you get so bloody helpful?

“Really?” George said, his eyes so earnest a lump formed in your throat. You could only nod.

“Brilliant,” he grinned, sliding over his parchment. “What the bloody hell does this mean?”

For all his faults, George, you had to admit, was smarter than he looked.

“So, you add horned slugs if-“ he cut himself off when Seamus Finnigan sat down next to him, immediately and easily drawing his attention away from his work. You couldn’t contain your eyeroll and you didn’t try to.

“Those Beauxbatons girls…” Seamus mused, shaking his head. “They’re grand, aren’t they?”

“I’ll say,” George agreed, lighting up. “There was this one the other day that me and Fred bumped into and blimey she was-“

“Maybe she could help you with potions,” you said, your tone more venomous than intended as you leant back. You recognised the prangs of jealousy in your gut and clenched your jaw at the feeling.

“Are you jealous?” George asked, barely able to fight the smile on his lips.

“Am I-“ you rushed, tutting. “Of course, not. Why would I be jealous?”

George narrowed his eyes but left well enough alone when Seamus once again garnered his attention and you were left asking yourself the same question over and over again. Why would you be jealous?

You didn’t have an answer when Hermione stalked over to you in the corridor with a determined look on her face and an armful of textbooks.

“You like George,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You hoped it wasn’t.

“I’ve been accused of many things, Granger,” you said, walking away as she followed. “But never something as awful as that.”

She scoffed, much to your dismay.

“Right, but I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

You swallowed. “With contempt and thinly veiled hatred?” you suggested, though your tone was far from credible.

“Like you’re in love.”

That, of all the things she could have said, very quickly broke your composure.

“Give off, Hermione,” you said harshly, partially thankful for being able to so honestly and full-heartedly deny something.

“Fine, fine, alright,” she said, raising her eyebrows as you stopped before a staircase. “But at least admit you like him.”

“Maybe I like like him,” you replied childishly, trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking about it.

She shot you a dry look.

“We both know you do,” she said matter-of-factly, disappearing back the way you came and leaving you to stew on her words as you stomped up the staircase.

You couldn’t like George, right? He was George. He was stupid and irritating and reckless and the year before you’d hated his guts. Things couldn’t change that fast, could they? Could they?

What you didn’t know was that George had been asking himself the same thing.

“Shut up, Fred, I do not-“

“Right, sure. You definitely do not fancy Y/N. Gotcha!”

“I’m serious, Freddie,” George said lowly, throwing a scrunched-up ball of paper at his brother across the Gryffindor common room.

“So am I, Georgie,” Fred said, sitting up. “Anyone with half a brain-cell could tell you’re mad for her.”

“Mad for who?” Harry asked, strolling through the portrait hole with Ron hot on his heels.

“Y/N,” Fred replied, smiling at George’s sigh.

“Oh, right,” Harry said, sitting in one of the armchairs.

“What the bloody hell do you mean ‘Oh, right’?” George said, his tone exasperated.

“Well, it’s kind of obvious,” Ron said, shrugging. “You guys hated each other a few months ago and now you’re making googly eyes at each other all the bloody time.”

“Oh, piss off, Ron,” George groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “You don’t know anything about girls.”

“Oi!”

“He’s right though,” Fred insisted, kicking at George with his foot. “Why do you think you were so jealous when she was chatting about Cedric and Krum?”

George, as a rule, hated it when Fred was right. He hated it even more when Ron was right and so, as he walked down to the dungeon to find you, he was not in love with the whole situation. It was annoying, really, that they thought they knew so much. It was more annoying that they did know so much. Even a broken clock, though, he figured, was right twice a day.

As he slipped through the Slytherin common room charms, he was taken aback by the memory of him doing exactly the same thing not two years ago and a strange feeling clenched at his chest.

Seeing George Weasley in your common room was never a good sign, and as you noticed him by the doors, you knew that he would have to leave very soon before he got hexed or worse, before Malfoy started to talk to him.

“Oi, Y/N,” he said, finally spotting you as you walked towards him, already fully aware of his presence.

“George,” you replied, nervousness brewing inside your stomach. It was the first time you’d been alone with him in a very long time.

“Do you-“ he began, swallowing as he looked down at you. Your words lodged in your throat at the serious look in his eyes. “Do you fancy going to the Yule Ball, by any chance?”

You raised your eyebrows, your eavesdropping audience long forgotten as you stared at him.

“With me?” he added, frowning.

“With you?” you repeated, trying to ignore the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Yes.”

You both stared at each other for a moment.

“Are you asking me out?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Your mouth twitched at his uneasy tone, finding his nerves quite endearing.

“Alright.” You said, nodding, a small smile growing on your lips.

“Yeah?” he asked, his whole face lighting up in surprise.

“Yeah,” you repeated, biting your lip as you grinned at him.

“Brilliant,” he breathed, his cheeks hurting as he beamed. His confidence seemed to flood back to him as he looked at you again, standing taller than he had been. “I mean, we could just skip the ball and just make-“

“Don’t push it, Weasley,” you said, raising an eyebrow. You wetted your lips, fully aware of his eyes on them. He glanced up to meet your gaze, pleased to see the same mischievous twinkle he knew so well.

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mariahthelioness29 · 3 years

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NURTURING A FRIENDSHIP

( Maintaining Friendships pt.2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Plus Size Reader

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: SMUT (nasty but loving), slight degradation, unprotected sex, drug use, mentions of alcohol

Please if you are a minor do not interact, due to the themes of this fic, this story is 18+

A/N: Here it is a part 2 as promised hope you like it.

@xbuchananbarnes @siancore @avintagekiss24 @lesbians-love-samwilson

@maddiestundentwritergaines @whiskey-cokenfanfic @liquorlaughslove @sopranomaestra93 @afriendlyblackhottie @samwilsons-pillowpecs

@missdforever @buckys-plums @xxindiglow @kissthatlifeaway

Bucky called you a few times after your lunch with him.

You texted him the address of the restaurant, with 7:00 p.m

You have facetimed ever since he got an iPhone and Bucky likes it when you send him pictures of you.

Today you have been extremely busy, with meetings and finally, you picked the phone and saw a message from Bucky.

“Where is my daily picture ?, Bucky texted you

“Very bold from the man, who was walking with a flip phone a couple of days ago”, you texted back

“Good Afternoon to you too”, you send him.

Bucky sends you a voice message “Jesus, having a flip phone is a capital sin in Wakanda or something?”, He laughs “Good afternoon, doll, how’s work ?”

“I mean it’s prehistoric, busy a lot of meetings today” you replied via text.

Bucky licks his lips and shakes his head.

He takes a picture of him shirtless with a cute smile and sends it to you.

Wish you were here, I could distract you from work, take a break, he texts.

“ Who taught you to send thirst traps ?", you text him laughing seeing the pic.

“ Isn’t this what people do to woo each other nowadays?, give me a break I’m trying”

“Is it working ?”, he texts you

You look at the pic and sink your teeth on your bottom lip.

“It is, but in person it's so much better, the pictures don’t do you justice”, you replied.

He sends another voice message.

You put on your headphones giddy for his reply.

“For fucks sake, you can’t say shit like that and not be here”

“What ?”, “Are you that desperate that my words are reeling you, horny dog”., you replied

You don’t know how the conversation changed from PG to NSFW, but is a welcome change after almost a week of you keeping it cute.

“Yes”, he texted

Oh, yeah? be a good boy and show me with a video, get to it”, you order him via text

You read your papers, with the anticipation of the video in the back of your mind.

Bucky sighed “fuck”, he has never sent a picture or a video of himself like that, but he trusts you so he manages to put the phone on the nightstand against the lamp to take a video, he presses record.

After a couple of minutes, You hear your cell vibrate and there it is.You open the video.

He frowned in concentration, figuring out if the camera was recording or not

“Is this thing recording ? he wonders out loud

oh yeah it is, the minutes are ticking”, he confirms to himself

He sits on the bed. He smiled at the camera, feeling his heartbeat out of his chest.

‘For my best girl”, he winks to the camera, trying to hide his nerves.

He took himself out of his shorts, spit on his hand, and began to stroke himself slow, sighing, mouth slightly agape, his head tilted to the side until he was fully hard.

‘F-fuck”, he stuttered

“I have never done this”, he breathes out, pumping himself fast with his vibranium hand.

He groans and moans, squeezing himself, rolling his hips into his hand.

“I can’t wait for the day, you let me inside again, I have never forgotten how you felt wrapped around me, it’s like heaven on earth”, Bucky confessed with a strangled voice in between his high pitch dragged out moans. He keeps teasing his tip with his thumb while jerking off.

You feel yourself getting wet, because of his words and moans.

His dick so thick and long, and the red tip, shining with precum.

You bite your lips, mouth-watering at the sight of him jerking himself for you.

Your breathing is now deep and a little erratic, your nipples are hard against your bra.

“Fuck, baby, you got me fucking riled up”, he moans.

Bucky fondles his balls while jerking off.

He hissed, feeling the contrast of the cold hand against his balls, and he jerks himself with his flesh hand.His hips twitch and his dick throbs in his hand, he jerks himself faster and his fist gets tighter.

His breathing is harsh and his groans get louder and deeper.

“Oh fuck”, he growls, feeling his release near.

He pumps himself a couple of times crying out your name on repeat until his mouth is agape, his breath and moans come out stuttered while ropes of cum spurt out of him painting his abs, his hand while he looks into the camera.

He throws his head back, trying to control his breathing with a smile of relief after emptying himself.

He hums enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure .He takes the phone and closes up to his cum painted abs.

“ Such a shame, this should be in you instead of painted on my stomach”, he pants

“ Have a good day, sweetheart, can’t wait to see you tomorrow”, he pants smiling at the camera, and the video stops.

“Bast”, you breathe, suddenly the room has become hotter.

You text him.

“My day got so much better, thank you, can’t wait to see you tomorrow”

“You’re welcome, doll”, he rasps via voice message.

After work, you shop for a nice dress for tomorrow night. A cute, lilac silk dress with a high slit with your clear high heels. You look at the lilac lingerie. You remember the first compliment he dared to say. You had a crown of flowers, the children did it and it was full of purples flowers.“ You look like a flower yourself”, he whispered while you taught him how to dance.

Bucky was pacing around looking at the small number of clothes he had.

He felt a skip on his heartbeat that was pleasant but at the same time, he felt his nerves tingling. He realized he was nervous but excited and that suddenly he has no clothes for this date. He took a deep breath and decided this is an emergency and called Thandiwe, Andrew, and Sam.

"Suddenly I don't know what to wear", he laughs looking at them.

"Uncle Bucky, leave that to y/n, we guys put on some jeans and a nice shirt, that's it", Andrew answers him.

He now has three friends: his co-worker Sam, his great grand nephew Andrew, and Thandiwe.

"I disagree, you have to look good too, put on some style too", Thandiwe replied

Sam just laughs, "you jump off of buildings, but you are freaking out ‘cause of a date, man let's take a look at what you have. Black, black, black, like you barely have anything with color". "Oh, I see sum, is that a suede brown jacket, that would look good and that olive green t-shirt for a change? I think it will go well with the jeans, those shoes, and your gloves. You're all set".

Thandiwe and Andrew nod smiling.

"Put it on", Thandiwe suggests.

"See, all set", Andrew nods

"By the way, I have not seen y/n, who is she", Andrew ask

Bucky smiled.

"We met in Wakanda, she is.., Bucky smiles.

"Aww shit,he gone",Sam teases

" We lost him", Andrew shakes his head in faux disappointment.

Thandiwe looks for a picture of you and sends it to the group.

Thandiwe holds in a laugh

"Oh, since the first day Shuri introduced him to her, he was gone", Thandiwe adds

"He froze like a deer in headlights"

Thandiwe, Bucky warns and side-eyes him.

"What?, are you going to tell me that I am wrong, ingucka", Thandiwe smirked

Bucky just shakes his suppressing a smile.

"Wow", Andrew looks at your picture up and down and they settle on your breast.

"Hey, watch it, eyes on her face, punk", Bucky warns Andrew.

"What ?, I am just looking", Andrew laughs and shrugs.

"So this what your ass was doing in Wakanda scrolling through meetWakandawomen.com all day, maybe I could tell old Steve to tell T'challa to invite me there, ‘cause goddamn". Sam looks at your picture

"You two together are insufferable", Bucky rolls his eyes.

"So where are you going to take her ?'' Thandiwe asked.

Bucky mentions the name of the restaurant.

"Oh, nice", they replied

"Just be your gentleman 40s self, like Grandma Becca used to tell us stories about you", Andrew tells him.

"It's going to be alright", Sam reassures him.

They all said goodbyes to each other and wished him good luck on the date.

Bucky gets dressed and he goes to the restaurant. and there you were on a sofa drinking a glass of sparkling water.

"Hmm,7 o'clock not second less not second later, impressive", you stand up.

You hug him and kiss his cheek.

Bucky blushes and offers his arm.

“I cannot make my best girl wait, you look breathtaking”, Bucky takes a good look at you.

“You don’t look that bad yourself, old man, I like the brown jacket, brings a grey green tone out of your eyes”

Bucky is flustered ”uhmm..thank you”

You take his arm in yours and walk into the restaurant, the hostess seats you, but Bucky pulls your chair for you and you sit.

“`Such a gentleman, I got your flowers today”

“Lilacs and roses”, you smile

“That is where I got the inspiration to wear this”.

You take a bite of your food, moaning at the flavor.

Bucky feels a little tingle when you make that noise.

And he drinks beer, to quench the sudden dryness of his throat.

”I’m glad you like them, doll’

“ I am excited, I have a new job”

“Don’t say”, you widen your eyes.

“It’s a big project, I mean the opportunity, I have is once in a lifetime, I will be working reforming people that do not want to be part of these criminal organization, help them settle, build a new life, Sharon and I, we are putting everything together, to pitch the project ”

“Bucky I am so happy”, you squeeze his hand.

“Yeah, I also got a new therapist, don’t get me wrong, Dr. Raynor, she did what she thought was right but we have very different mindsets”

“Wow, what a week, a lot of change”.

“The partnerships of the outreach and the schools are going so well, more children are learning, we are discussing opening a little bit more the borders but that will take some time,”.

“That’s amazing, though it doesn’t surprise me, you are good at everything”, Bucky took a bite of his food not breaking eye contact with you

“You know what I love about this century apart from you, of course, Bucky said so naturally.

“You love me? isn’t that a little too soon, it’s our first date after all”, you joke but you feel your heart miss a bit.

“I’m a man that knows what he wants, '' Bucky drinks from his beer, narrowing his eyes at you.

“The food, we used to boil everything”.

“Ughh, and you all call yourself the developed world, huh ?”, you glare at him playfully

Bucky laughs and shrugs.

“That’s why your palette was dead, remember when you ate the goat stew with the peppers”

“Yeah, I had to drink like a gallon of milk, felt like my mouth was in the pits of hell”, Bucky laughs

“That hot sauce is a torture device, I might call Kiya to send me some, I put it on someone, and they’ll talk”

“It’s not even that hot”, you frown

“It’s a torture device, but the taste while eating is nice, it’s the burn afterward”, Bucky shudders You cackle at that

For the rest of the dinner, you laugh going to memory lane.

“This is so good, would you like a bite”, Bucky feed you with his fork

You took a bite from the fork, looking at him.

Bucky bites his lip looking at you eating from his fork.

You finish eating and then dessert with champagne.

“Whew, I feel like I am about to explode”, you sighed

“Me too”, Bucky chuckled

“I mean you had two entrees”

“Super soldier appetite”, he shrugs Your mind went to another place and you just drank your champagne, trying to be subtle.

‘Supersoldier appetite? you ask with a smirk

‘Yep”, he answered, licking his lips cocking his head to the side.

You go with Bucky to the French Quarter with your arms wrapped around Bucky, while he rides the bike. You catch a whiff of his cologne, you hum. It smells strong but with delicate notes. It is just like him with a strong demeanor but with a delicate interior.

Bucky parks the bike and helps you get off it.

You go to the different bars, you go to the House of Blues and drink and listen to the different artists.

There was a guy named SiR, playing tonight.

His song was calm, nice and soon enough Bucky is behind you with his chin on your shoulder, in an embrace, swaying you sideways with him listening to the music.

He likes it. Maybe Sam is right, maybe he needs to give modern music a chance. This guy is speaking all the feelings, he felt falling in love with y/n in Wakanda.

The man was singing:

Why was last night the first time I felt anything in a long time

Feels like Imma fall hard said my cold heart made up its own mind

Love ain't what I came for, but it's here now, and it feels good

You told me you were special, and you meant what you said

I don't wanna leave this bed

Baby, you're all in my head

All in my head (x5)

Baby you

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm making a mistake

But who's gonna save me

Who's gonna say I'm wrong to stay

But you so amazing, it started out as fun and games

I didn't know we'd swim this deep, and she didn't know I'd be afraid

Bucky just hugged you tighter to him, and you throw your head back and he peppers your neck with light kisses

You smile and you keep swaying, enjoying his hug.

You turn around laying your head on his chest and he lifts your face by your chin and he bows his head a little and kisses you softly, a brush of his lips.

You feel the warmth of his hug, there is a crowd, but only you two matter.

After the show, Bucky takes you home.

He insisted to go with you to the door

“Bucky what is going to happen, it is just the elevator, and I am going to my apartment”, you chuckle

“For my peace of mind, doll”, he entered the elevator.

You kiss some more in the elevator, Bucky breaths you in and kisses you slow, drinking you in.

Until the elevator stops and you reach your corridor.

“So this is it”, you bite your lips and cross your legs, and cast your eyes down, fiddling with your hands.

“Nice place”, Bucky admired around.

You feel your mind racing and your heart beating fast.

You stay looking at each other for a second but it felt like longer.

“I..”, you sighed, while holding the door

“You what ?”, Bucky gets closer.

“I want to let you in, but I am scared, last time, I blur our friendship and it didn’t go well”

“You just broke off your engagement, and I was a semi stable-100-year-old, things have changed for the better now”, Bucky took your hand and kissed it.

You feel a tingle when does that and you can’t help but smile

“ I’ll go slow, I promise, so goodnight, doll”, Bucky plants a kiss to your lips so softly, you feel like you're melting to the floor. Bucky smiled and let go of your hand slowly.

He began to walk away.

‘It is now or never”, you think while he walks away, you realize you don’t want him to leave

“Bucky, wait!”, you raise your voice.

He stops dead on his track and turns around, looking at you.

"When was the last time you smoked?",you ask him.

Bucky snorts

"I smoke it all after my first session with Dr. Raynor", Bucky confessed

"Your accent is still horrible", you tell him, scrunching your face.

"Maybe I need some lessons, it's been a long time without speaking Xhosa", Bucky grinned.

"Maybe I could give you some lessons", you whisper. .

You let him in your apartment. Bucky looks around, again feeling a little nostalgic, it looks like your house in Wakanda.

You groan, taking your heels off.

"Something wrong?", Bucky asks, a little concerned.

"Just, these heels were killing me", you sighed plopping on the couch.

"You could've just taken them off, I would've held them for you", Bucky sits next to you.

"and ruin my outfit", You side eyed him with a small smile on your lips

“Can’t do that, can we?”.Bucky set his face in faux seriousness, he scoots closer to you. .

You just chuckle shaking your head.

There is a hidden compartment on the table, with the Kimoyo beads you open it.

You wink at Bucky and roll the joints, seal them with your saliva. You dry them with a lighter and hand him one.

You light it for him. He just get comfortable smoking.

“This is the only thing that can get me a small buzz”, Bucky does a French inhale.

You smile when he does that.

“Oh you can do tricks”, You challenge

You puff out the smoke in little “o’s”.

Bucky licks his lips, you take another hit and you get closer to him.

You blow the smoke to his lips and he inhales it, your lips brushing against each other, you put the joint on the ashtray and he does too.

You kiss is heated, you fumble with his jacket and he takes it off, throwing it on the floor. He sighs and hums into kiss, drinking you in.

You straddle him and he grabs your hips and his hands travel to your ass kneading them hard.

You mewl into his mouth, you take a breather when he kisses your neck. He gets you off his lap and sits you next to him.

“I know you love to control me, and I love it, but let me be on top tonight, I missed you”

His hands travel to your core, making you spread your legs. You throw your head back, he kisses your neck again.

You feel him , pulling the lacey lingerie to the side and begin to rub you.

You gasp and moan with your eyes closed.

‘Drenched for me, aren’t you sugar’’, he chuckled

“Yes, for you, since the concert”, you pant

“ Your smell’s been driving me crazy all night”, Bucky groaned, entering his fingers in you.

He hugs you to him while fingering you, enticing you, he breathes in your hair.

“Fuck, I missed you”, he breaths out.

You can only roll your rips meeting his hand halfway, moaning, looking into his blue eyes and how full of desire they look.

You bite your lip and your chest heaving.

He hissed feeling you throb on his fingers, his pants are tight, his erection on full display. He took his fingers out of you and before you can protest, he rips your thong off of you.

“Why did you do that”, You whine

“I bought them, now I don’t have a set”, you pout.

He just puts them on his nose and takes a deep breath smelling them then putting them in his jeans back pocket.

You feel your pussy throb at that, you are liking this side of Bucky.

“ You are mine”, he states.

You scoff. “You haven’t made me cum”, you raise an eyebrow at him with a teasing smile.

“Oh, doll, you are going to regret those words”, Bucky enters his fingers in you slowly.

Then something changes, he is fingering you eager and he finds your spot, you arch off the sofa, with a whine.

His fingers brush again and again against that spot.

“Fuck!”, you moan almost screaming

Bucky just has that shit eating grin on his face, watching you lose it for him

“This is going to be a long night, doll, the first of many”, He bites your earlobe

Your hips jerk and your thighs tremble and you cum on his fingers, he slows down but he does not stop, until you whimper at the sensitivity.

You catch your breath and he grabs making you stand up with him.

You kiss each other all tongue, lip biting.

He takes your dress off in a frenzy and you undress him in a frenzy.

You were taking your lace bra off but he stops you, you smile knowing what he wants.

He sits legs wide open, dick standing.

You go between his legs, kissing his dick, looking at him.

“Oh fuck”, he breathes out looking down at you.

You stick your tongue out and he slapped it on your tongue.

You suck him for all he is worth, bopping your head up and down, jerking the part that you can’t fit it, till he stills your head with his two hands and he bucks into your mouth.

“ Shit, that's it, honey, taking me so well”, he thrusts into your mouth faster, your gagging enticing him.

He stops and takes himself out of your mouth, loving how fucked out you look already, your gloss smeared, your eyes teary and trails of your spit between him and your mouth.

You just smile and lift your bra and he gets in between your breasts. You start bouncing, loving how desperate he gets thrusting between your breasts.

His heavy breathing, his stuttered moans, he throws his head back in complete bliss.

"Oh my God", he moans all strangled, thrusting while your breast helps him to get off.

You just hum and moan.

" Come on,baby, make me yours", you whisper all sultry.

Bucky thrust faster groaning

"Fuck that is such a sight", he looks almost in awe at his dick wedged between your breast.

"Y/N", he cried out and he moaned.

"That's it, I want to hear you, don't hold back, mark me", you rasp.

You keep bouncing and pushing your breast together to make it tighter for him.

"Baby", he croaks

"Do it, I want to taste you", you moaned, feeling his dick twitch.

Bucky throws his head back with a silent moan, tensing spurting all over your chest,neck and some of it flying to your face.

You hum, receiving it all closing your eyes.

Bucky looks back to you.

"So pretty", he pants.

You blow a kiss to him and then you scoop the cum off your face on your fingers and moan at the taste, all while looking at him.

"Taste, so good", you lick your fingers

Bucky brings you to him and you straddle him,rubbing his still hard dick between your lower lips, while he sucks on your breast. He takes off your bra and licks them clean and makes out with you, both of you moaning sharing the taste.

You lower on his length slow, gasping at the stretch till he bottoms out.

Bucky hugs you to him tight, caging you in his arms and he just grinds in deeper making you feel all of him.

“Fuck, you're deep”, you croak.

Bucky just smiles and kisses your breath away while giving languid thrusts, almost pulling out and slamming back in.

Bucky picks up the pace and you throw your ass back to him, mewling.

Breathing in each other, looking at each other lost in pleasure, your lips brushing against each other

"You are it for me, sweetheart", Bucky breaths out,hammering up to you.

The only thing you can do is moan and nod, your breathing is erratic, you feel that throb and your nerves are lit on fire. You throw your head back, straighten up.

"Can feel you’re close. Give it all to me",Bucky grunts while he is bouncing you up and down

You tense with a loud moan escaping your lips with indiscernible clipped cursing in Xhosa.

You groan dropping on him, your eyes rolling a little, Bucky hammering on against that spot, chasing his release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he cries out with a crack in his voice till his breath in stuck in his chest and then he spills deep in you. You hum with a lopsided smile, caged in his arms, resting your head on his shoulder. You feel the warmth and how it trickles down.

Catching both of your breaths, he traces your spine up and down, looking at you like hung the moon, while you lazily pepper kisses where the flesh meets the metal of his arm.

He grabs your face with both his hands and kisses you with that softness, you feel loved.

He lays on the couch and puts you on top of him. He stretches out his arm and grabs the joint with the lighter and lights it up. He smokes and he passes to you. You keep doing that until it's done.

“I want no one else, but you, I have you again and I won’t let you go this time”, Bucky confessed.

“Me neither”, you whisper while tracing his scar and then peck lips.

“You owe me a set”, You chuckle

“I’ll buy you all the sets you want”, he sighs smiling.

You stay in comfortable silence, basking in the intimacy, both naked, smoking, convinced that you never are going to separate this time.

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emf005 · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday

Regulus x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Y/F/F = Your Favorite Flower

Note* First Fanfiction ever, I love all feedback, but be kind please!

Second note** This is for my friend. Happy birthday, Idiot!

You swung your feet and stared over the lake, your Hogwarts letter in hand. You still had a month until it was time to go back, but you couldn’t help the smile that the letters with your supplies always brought to your face. You couldn’t afford any of your supplies… ever… but that wasn’t the point of the matter. The point was that it made it official that you would be going back. Back to the castle. Back to the Quidditch pitch. Back to the classes…. Back to him.

Him…

Regulus Black. The youngest son of the Black family. The one with cool grey eyes and short black hair. The one who always looked presentable, smelled of bread( for some reason), and expensive furniture (Which he somehow made work). The one who took a socially awkward, very inappropriate, and overly tall Huffelpuff under his wing and befriended you.

Him.

You sighed to yourself, a bit disappointed that you had to wait over a month to see him. One month and five days to be exact. But still, you would be seeing him.

“Hoot Hoot!” You looked up and saw a sleek brown owl swooping from the sky, landing on the bench beside you.

Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself. You scratched Oliver on his head and untied the note on his leg.

Dearest Y/N,

You rolled your eyes, not attempting to hide the blush that tinted your face. You were his dearest… hehe….

I hope you have had a good summer, but not good enough that you wouldn’t want to come back to Hogwarts to see my marvelous face. I just got my letter a few days ago and couldn’t help but think of you as soon as I had it in my hands.

Your blush became even deeper.

He continued on for a few lines until the letter ended with sincerely, R. A. B. in his marvelous signature. Then it had a P.S. but nothing else after it.

You stared at the blank paper under the “P.S.”. Odd. Why wasn’t there-

“P.S. Happy Birthday.” You looked up and a huge smile broke out on your face.

There stood the one and only Regulus Black. A kind smirk displayed on his face, his hair fashionably messy and his blotches pressed to perfection, fitting him like they belonged on him and only him.

You ran to the, slightly taller, boy and attached yourself to his waist.

“Oof!” He chuckled and wrapped his hands around your waist as well.

You breathed him in (not in a creepy way.) and your blush deepened even more. Did I happen to forget that you may have fallen for the Slytherin? Oops.

Five years surrounded by this ethereal being can do that to a girl! You couldn’t help it! Lay off!

You looked up at him and saw him already looking down at you, a coy smirk on his face. He touched your chin with his fingers.

“Is this blush for me? I’m flattered, Love.” Your blush deepened and you buried your face in his neck again. You used to be taller than him… thank God he grew over the few months you had been out of school!

“Shuddup,” you mumbled. You felt him smile.

“Do you want your present now, or are you going to keep me immobile forever?” You backed up a little bit and stared at his stormy eyes.

“I guess I’ll let you give me my present,” you sighed. He smiled and handed you the flowers that were in his hand. You hadn’t even noticed the Y/F/F he had been holding. You took them and inhaled their scent. They smelt beautiful. Not as good as him, but they would suffice

He then pulled out a small box from his pocket and handed over the black and yellow package. You smiled at it. They were your colors. You knew how much he loved his, so for him to wrap something in yours meant a lot to you.

You tore open the box, making him chuckle again. He stayed standing in front of you where you sat on the bench. It was a bit odd… but you didn’t really notice. You also didn’t notice him shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, or the way he was nervously picking at his fingernails.

When you opened the box your eyes actually bugged out of your head. It was a silver chain with a silver and green snake pendant wrapped around a line of yellow and black gems. It was both your houses in one.

“Reg… wow. This is,” you looked up and saw him standing there, nearly blue from holding his breath. He may have been the most confident man you knew, but when he was nervous… he was the definition of it.

You stood and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him relax a bit.

“Thank you so much. I love it.”

You felt the boy smiled into your hair, which made you smile even more.

“Help me put it on?” you asked. He nodded and you turned. He put the necklace over your head and attached it before pulling your hair out of the chain. You went to turn around, but his hands landed on your shoulders, preventing you from turning. “Reg?”

“Not yet. I have to ask you something, but I don’t want you facing me when I do it.”

“O-ok?” You said, getting a bit nervous.

“Y/N, I-I will completely understand if you don’t want to but… but I have known you since 1st year, it seems longer though, if I’m being honest. I mean honestly-”

“Reg. You're rambling again,” you chuckled, but your nerves didn’t settle. You felt him swallow.

“Right. Sorry. Anyhow. Y/N, Would-would you like to… um… would you like to go eat food?” You turned around, forcing yourself against his hands. You looked up at him and smiled brightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked his nose with your lips, loving the tint of pink that dusted his face.

“Reg, I would love to go eat food. As long as it's with you and only you.” He smiled and pulled you in by your hips, his confidence returning.

“I knew you’d love to. Who wouldn’t?” You laughed and pecked his nose again, the light pink becoming rosy. You smiled.

“Ya know,” you wiggled out of his grasp and started to walk away. “Pink’s a good color for you!” You called over your shoulder.

This was most certainty your best birthday ever.

#RegulusBlack Fluff #regulus x y/n #regulus x you #fluff fic

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jjk-anime-horray · 3 years

Text

Call of Spirits

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Spirited Away Au

Chapter four:

The most interesting smell that ever has invaded your nostrils is probably the musk that the radish spirit that was currently taking up 90% of the elevator was giving off right now. The odor itself was a weird mix of unwashed vegetables and a sopping mop making you the perfect amount of uncomfortable as you currently were squished against the wall of the lifting box with Kugisaki. Who was just as uncomfortable as you were, and by the sheer look of disgust and discomfort on her face contemplating all of her life's decisions at the current moment.

While you could clearly hear Nobara bickering under her breath phrases like 'of course it's always customer first' and 'stupid radish could have had his own ride but nooooo'; she could clearly hear your heart beating faster than the fingers of a pianist playing Rimsky-Korsakov's flight of the bumblebee. Or to put it quite simply fast enough where your heart might actually pound a hole into your ribcage.

"Psk, hey you." The fiery orange haired girl whisper quips at you to get your attention.

"What?" You whisper quip back at her in response.

"Is it the raddish man invading your space that's making you nervous, or are you nervous to meet the boss?"

"It's a bit of both honestly."

"Alright, well, I would try to calm those nerves because quite frankly your stop is next."

"Oh okay."

Right on schedule in alinement with the end of your conversation the mystical but iconic ding of the wooden metallic elevator marked the arrival and ascension to your desired floor. The distinctive rise then fall under your feet confirming the notification.

With another iconic ding you swiftly exited the elevator by shoving your way through a couple of limbs and a whole lot of radish flesh to meet the boss who you knew absolutely nothing about, other than that they seemed scary.

Finally with one last push off of the white rough stomach of the radish man, the elevator doors finally came to a close just as you stumbled into the supposed office of the person you are meeting.

To start off, to you, it seemed like this person never got out of their goth phase in high school because the majority of the coloration for the room was purple and black with the last five or so percent being navy. Gloomy would a an understatement considering the only thing lighting the room was short wicked candles.

Interestingly enough, the one place in the room that was supposed to be the most vibrant and teeming with light, and or the fire place, was actually the darkest and the most ominous about of all of the office's nooks and crannies. In fact, you couldn't even see the back of it which was very peculiar.

With the curiosity enough to kill a cat filling your mind you quickly waltz over to the place in the rooming daunting on your mind. Letting your self inspect the wood burner your eyes traced around the cold stone trim of the mechanism, ultimately leading your leading your full blown pupils to let in more light at the darkness of the cut out box in the wall the a chimney.

The uncomfort you felt in the tiny elevator was nothing compared to the events that happened next. Instantly your eyes contracted into little slits as you forcefully have to stumble back from the fire place as it burst into flames along with every light giving instrument bursting into vivid life all the while you try to adjust your in pain eyes to the new life reverberation happening around you.

Then suddenly with the burst of light illuminating the room a short old man walked in. Grey haired, stalky, and grumpy in stature he wore traditional robes over some sort of jeans that couldn't be seen, only the outline, and he used a guitar as a cane.

"There have been rumors swindling around in the hotel, honestly I was a little disappointed to find out that they were true, yet here you are making the effort to see me, but why?" He gruffed out in an old gravely voice.

"I'm here to find a job."

"A job huh? You have spirit i'll give you that but you're human."

"I may be human, but I can still work."

"Your diligence isn't the problem, you're smell is, it's horrendous, no one is going to want to smell it."

"Well I can work in the boiler room were no one else will be there!"

"There only needs to be one boiler person, are you suggesting you take yaga's job?"

"Well......no."

"My thought exactly, so leave."

"What?! Why I really need a job."

Then out of the blue a rushing breeze swifted across all of the surfaces in the room leaving a wake of flying papers, only then to reveal the new presence of black haired spirit Megumi that you've come to know.

"Well if it isn't my usual little problem." The older man scoffs at the younger spirit. "What do you want?"

"You requested to see me sir, I have" He gestured to the lump in his pocket with is hand lifting it up "what you asked for."

"A right that, just go put in the back and leave i'm dealing with something right now." Which he clearly meant you.

"Sorry to intrude sir." The younger spirit quips, but he wasn't done speaking. "I couldn't help but over hear the last bit of the conversation between the two of you. Even though they're a human we both know their smell is already fading, and it will continue to fade as they keep eating our food. Just a thought."

The young spirit then swooshed out of the office room as quickly as he came, leaving the small package behind out of your. Also leaving the older spirit in reconsidering though that was clearly displayed on his face as turned back to meet your face. Then with pulling out a piece of paper and a pen he gestured to you.

"Come and right your name."

Doing as he said you just over and snagged the paper and pen from his wrinkly hand. Tightening your grip, trying to make your pen-men ship as neat as possible when gliding your hand in strokes across the scrap. Writing your name, (Y/N). Right after the man in front of you magically whipped the paper into his hand once for the read the piece's contents.

"(Y/N), lovely name." With that notion the ink on the paper started to change, more specifically the blackness started to lift of the paper and into the man's hand. "But from now on you'll be known as Sen, kugisaki will meet at the door and give you directions again.

"Wait that it's! I-

You couldn't finish your sentence because as soon as he stopped speaking he flew you back into the shaft in which you came, shutting the elevator's doors the second you entered the contraption, not even giving you a single second to do a double take on what just happened.

#jjk fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spirited away au #spirited away #studio ghibli #anime #weeb #manga

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sope-and-shine · 4 years

Text

The Right of a King: Pt. 1

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 15.1k -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, Namjoon is kind of a jerk but he gets better...kinda, also a bit of a misogynist, technology abuse RIP the museum equipment, Jimin IS that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money - but will anyone complain? no.

A/N: This whole fic is a BEAST i sWEAR! I am however really excited to share this fic with everyone! This was originally for a collab that never got to happen -RIP - but I liked the idea too much to just throw her away!

I do want to give a huge shout out to @sakuraguks-main for beta reading this as well as my squad for their constant encouragement throughout the writing process.

Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to writing part 2

Masterlist

* * *

“Just the lunch box and the banana milk this time?”

“Uh…” You look up from your wallet to view your items on the counter. It was just one prepackaged lunch and a few banana milks, much less than you usually buy on your routine dinner stop. You don’t want to buy too much, but you’d need something for later in the morning too.

You settle for grabbing a few bags of chips off the rack next to you and set them on the counter, “I’ll take those too.”

He nods and rings them up, bagging them while you pay with your card. He grabs your receipt and tucks it in the bag, handing them to you as you slide your wallet back into your bag, “Have a good evening, (Y/n)!”

You nod, “Thank you! See you tomorrow, Gyu!” You wave to him as you exit the convenience store and step back into the bustling city.

Stopping for food is always a must for you before every shift with it being smack in the middle of your route. If you were to spend 10:00p.m. to 8a.m. by yourself with no food, you would probably go insane. It wasn’t like you couldn’t bring them from home, but it was much more convenient to stop on your way there. Occasionally, you’ll attempt to pull back on your snack intake, but Gyu never makes it easy on you when you do. He just makes it another typical day for you.

Wake up at 2:30, take a shower, do your school work, get ready for work, leave the house, stop to buy food from Gyu, and then arrive at the grand entrance to the Seoul Museum of History and Art.

The building itself is 4 stories high - not including the lower level storage it sits on top of - and 1 city block in length and width. It’s exterior is grand and extravagant with 3 large pillars that encase the 4 doorways that lead into the lobby. A large staircase greets you at the sidewalk, flower beds decorating the front along the brick railing on either side of the stairs. You never take the stairs on your way in, choosing to take the ramp hidden in the flowers up to the entrance instead. You’d have enough problems walking around the entire museum, adding more stairs to the mix would only ruin your mood.

Thankfully, Jin is always there to greet you on your way in. He never fails to brighten your day when you see him. Dressed sharp in a white button down tucked into fitted black dress pants with a grey suit jacket on top, he stands with his hands together in front of him and a large welcoming smile. His hair is parted just off center, not losing shape even as he nods to the patron in front of him.

You wait for him to finish his conversation before you greet him, “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Jin chuckles. He lets his shoulders relax, moving his neck from side to side before looking at his watch. He looks impressed, “Wow, you’re earlier than usual.”

You shrug, “Yeah, Hoseok said he needed to talk to me about the exhibit pieces that are coming in.”

“Say no more,” Jin raises his hands in front of him and shakes his head, “I’ve heard all I need to.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” You laugh. You shake your head and sigh, “I should get going so I can get ready to clear the last minute rush.”

“Don’t work too hard, night guard.” He gives you a mock salute and you turn away, waving goodbye to him as you continue down the corridor into a sea of people.

Most people would think a museum wouldn’t be so popular, but your crowds never seemed to dwindle. You suppose you’d have Yoongi to thank for that. He ran the museum so smoothly it was almost like clockwork. Doors opened at 9 and they closed at 9, new exhibits rotate in and out every 7 ½ months to the day, and employees were put through severe background checks and training just to make sure they’d be competent enough to work in his museum. Everyone that works in the museum was handpicked by Yoongi himself, and everyone chosen contributes everything they have to be here.

You pass by the gift shop, spying Jimin at the counter helping a few kids pick out candies. He notices you passing and smiles, giving you a quick wave that you return before he gives his attention to the children in front of him.

You continue on down the hall, passing the cafe and the restrooms. The walls begin to lose their decor the farther you go, becoming planer and planer until you reach the break room doors.

“He was like, ‘do you think toys for cavemen were any different from present day? Like that shit must be wild bro’ and then they all started laughing at me when I said they didn’t have a Toys R Us, so yeah, they were different from now.” Jeongguk says as you enter the room. His impeccable timing for ‘strange conversation’ never ceases to amaze you every time you walk through the door.

Jeongguk’s a great guy, always very respectful and eager to learn more, but he’s been working as a tour guide in the museum for about a year now and he still hasn’t seemed to pick up on anything. You’re pretty sure Yoongi only hired him to keep the single ladies coming back. It was hard to correct someone with such a cute, bunny smile and such remarkable enthusiasm in the work place.

“Do you think it was an inside joke?” He proceeds to ask, his attention trained on Johnny who stands at the locker to the right of yours.

The man in question can’t stop himself from giving the younger a disappointed frown, “Dude...you’re the joke…”

Jeongguk tilts his head in confusion and you jump into the conversation, “I’m sure they’re just being teenagers, Guk. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” You turn to briefly glare at your locker mate as you open it, turning your frown into a smile when you face Jeongguk again, “Tomorrow is another day!”

“You’re right!” He closes his locker and throws his bag over his shoulder, his confidence already returning, “I’ll learn everything I can about cavemen toys and come back tomorrow prepared to tell all of my tours about them!”

He leaves before you can say anything back, off to do whatever it is he usually does after work. You don’t mind though, it’s a little hard to understand the college sophomore anyways. At least with him leaving you can relax before your shift starts.

Johnny sighs next to you, “You mother him too much.”

“I don’t mother him. I just don’t want to explain to him what they’re actually talking about.” You argue, placing your bags on the hooks in your locker. You take off your overcoat and replace it with your black security jacket, fixing the collar, “Besides, he’ll figure it out by this weekend and then he won’t make eye contact with either one of us for the next week.”

“Whatever you say.” He pulls out a lint roller and hands it to you before closing his locker, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Waving behind you with the roller in hand, you say, “Have a good night!” You hear the door open and close behind you, leaving you alone in the room to sort yourself out.

You make quick work to de-lint your black work pants, setting the roller at the top of your locker. Then you take the bags you set down and pull them over to the table at the center of the room, leaving your locker open while you take out your food to be refrigerated. When you have everything you need, you place the leftover snacks back on the hook and shut the door.

The door opens on your way to the fridge, Hoseok walking in with a folder in his hands. He looks up from whatever he’s reading and his eyes widen in surprise, “You’re here!”

You open the fridge, “Yeah, you told me to come in a little early.” You set your bag on the top shelf, close the door, and turn to him, “You wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?”

“Right.” He approaches the table and sets his stuff down, sorting through a few papers before he pulls one from his stack. He extends it to you, “This is all the information about who we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. It has times, names, and a manifest.”

“Everything is the same from the texts you sent me, right?” You ask, eyes skimming over the sheet for anything new.

“Yes! Each artifact was individually packed, so we should only have 12 new pieces coming in tomorrow.”

“Okay, so we just need to keep an eye on what they bring in.” You say, more to yourself than to him. You take a moment to let the information sink in, nodding in understanding when you’re sure you have it all down. You look back up to Hoseok who’s already discarding his security jacket, “Did you have any luck on new night guard help?”

“Ah-...no,” Hoseok sets his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him. He’d been searching for new help ever since Chanyeol left, leaving you to run the night shift alone. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal for a museum in the middle of the city. You knew that and so did Hoseok. “I’ve been working on it, but it’s been hard with the new arrivals. Besides, you know how Yoongi is when he’s hiring new employees.”

You nod, knowing exactly how anal the museum director could truly be, “Yeah, I know. Just keep me updated though?”

You don’t really mind working by yourself, but you could only go so many days without a single day off. Thankfully, Hoseok was understanding of this, “I will! I’ll work something out, I promise!”

“Thank you,” You smile. You grab your bag off the table and hoist it over your shoulder, “I’m gonna go clock in and see about ushering the night crowd out.”

“Hyuk should be starting on level 1.” He informs you.

“I’ll take level 4 then.” You bid Hoseok goodbye and head across the hall to the security room, setting your stuff down in your chair and clocking in at the main computer. You take a moment to check the camera’s, looking for the most populated areas to look out for and which exhibits you could close as you go through.

This was something you did everyday. You’d find the unpopulated areas first so you could sweep the rooms and lock the exhibits behind you. One by one, you make sure to clear the floor before you move to the next level.

The third level is much busier than the other levels, having had the most change to it’s layout since the new exhibit was brought in 2 weeks prior. Families make their way to the stairs while couples try to catch one last look at exhibits they missed in favor for another.

Walking into the Ancient Dynasties Exhibit, you nod to the partons that you pass on their way out, stopping by the occasional straggler to let them know it’s time to go. You rarely ever have problems with getting someone to leave - maybe once or twice you’ve had to get physical with someone or call the police to escort them out of the museum - but the number of times is so small you could count them on one hand. There’s only one person you have to repeatedly kick out of the exhibit, and he’s worse than any patron you’ve ever dealt with.

“Taehyung, I need you to leave.” You tell him, approaching him from behind. His green, 3 piece suit is only slightly wrinkled from his work throughout the day, his jacket discarded and set off to his side.

The bubbly curator turns his head over his shoulder, dirty blonde locks still kept in a perfect side-sweep thanks to his “very essential” hair gel. His smile is almost a tease as he says, “Just a few more minutes.”

You cross your arms and sigh, “I’m counting.”

The saying “Just a few more minutes” has lost all meaning with Taehyung. You haven’t believed him since your third day of working together. He’s never been good at leaving his exhibits, wanting to take pride in his work. Despite having the ability to take pictures of the area as it’s curator, he insists on committing them all to memory. In hindsight, it’s very endearing. However, his wants tend to put you behind your own schedule.

He turns back around and you take a seat next to him on the bench. You take an obligatory look around the section he sits in, glancing over each artifact that decorates the walls. From tapestries or writing displays that hang on the walls, to small podiums with items far more fragile encased in glass. In front of you - roped off and on a placed on a small stage - is a large sarcophagus covered in gold with two lit candle placed beside it. Behind it is a wall of flowers, all apparently favorites from when the King was alive.

“Have I told you about Namjoon hyung?” He asks, referencing the mummy in front of you.

King Kim Namjoon of the Kim Dynasty. The only king of Korea to be mummified. Of all the exhibits you’ve been through with Taehyung, this one was his favorite. You could really say he’s obsessed with the dead King! Even with 6 more exhibits to his name. Taehyung spent almost all of his time in this section.

“I think I could talk about this guy in my sleep!” You laugh, nudging his side playfully, “And should you really be calling him ‘hyung’? If anything, he’s an ‘ahjussi’ to you.”

“Yes, but I know so much about him that he feels like a hyung to me!” He argues with a certain admiration in his eyes, “I’ve spent years waiting for this moment to have him in one of my exhibits, and now he’s right at my fingertips!”

He really isn’t exaggerating either. Before the king arrived, Taehyung would show you continuous updates about his uncovering and the updates on how his body was kept. The day his exhibit was approved, you thought he was going to explode. Of all the curators and all of the possible museums, he got King Namjoon. Anyone who didn’t know would’ve thought he won the lottery. In a way, he did.

“His exhibit here is a permanent one, Tae. He’s not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about him leaving anytime soon.” You assure him, placing a hand on his arm. Your smile turns into a grin, “What I am worried about is you leaving soon. Get out of my museum before I go find Yoongi.”

“I’m not afraid of Yoongi.” You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders drop, “Okay, so maybe I’m terrified of Yoongi, but that’s not important right now!”

You give his shoulder a light nudge, “Go home, Taehyung. The rest of your hyung will be here tomorrow.” You tease.

He sighs and leans his head back, “You say that like he didn’t arrive all put together. He’s a mummy, not Frankenstein.”

You hit his arm, “Get out of here.”

“Okay!” He stands up and turns to you with a boxy grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”

“I never do.” You wave him off, watching him saunter out of the exhibit with a little jump in his step. Even after 14 hours on the clock of rounding the museum to look at his works, he’s still running like he just woke up. Some days you wish you could be as happy with your job as Taehyung is, but how many people truly loved working the night shift in a dark, quiet museum?

* * *

“Alright, let’s make this fast and efficient everyone!” Yoongi barks, walking up to the loading dock where you and Hoseok stand on opposite sides of the doors. He eyes the unloading crew unlocking the truck and sends them a warning glare, “It’s a full moon tonight, and I will not be out at 3am like last time.”

“You need to relax, Yoongi,” Hoseok warns him, still standing across from you, “It’s just a few small pieces and then we’ll be out of here before your ‘witching hour’ is here.”

Hoseok wiggles his fingers for a “spooky emphasis” and you stifle a chuckle. Yoongi is not as amused, “Laugh all you want, but at least I won’t be dead.”

“Is that a threat? Can I file an HR complaint?” Hoseok asks.

Yoongi sighs, “Just do your job while they unload so we can leave.”

You offer a teasing grin and a nod, “Yes sir~”

Yoongi walks away and Taehyung replaces him, standing next to you instead of in the way of the workers. He rolls back and forth on his feet, watching happily as if he were a child at Christmas.

“Did I tell you what’s coming today?” He asks.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure you may have mentioned it here or there.”

Of course, you know what was coming in. Your job is to protect it with your life. Hoseok gave you the run down via text on your last 5 shifts and again today as soon as you walked through the doors. More paintings, a chair, a dusty old book, and the shining jewel of the King’s tomb.

“His lover’s necklace!” Taehyung beams, “According to what we know, this necklace was used by the King to find his soulmate. We believe that because he didn’t take a queen, he never found his other half.”

You shrug, “Maybe he wasn’t really looking.”

“Maybe...maybe not. Most historians believe he mummified himself so when fate brings his soulmate to him, he’d wake again and they’d spend eternity together.” He turns to you and flicks your forehead, “You would know if you actually paid attention to me.”

You push him back, “Well, excuse me if I can’t listen to you talk about his majesty for more than 10 minutes a week.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns back to the movers. His annoyance quickly turns to excitement as he catches sight on the last box being carried in, “Is that the necklace?”

“Uh…” The man carrying the box looks at the label on the side, nodding to Taehyung in confirmation, “Yes sir.”

“Oh! Follow me!” Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you after him. You turn your head back to Hoseok for help but he’s already waving you off while he closes the loading doors. You both follow the crew member to the table where a few other small items are being opened already, waiting long enough for the man to open the box for you. You can’t see the inside of the crate with Taehyung in your way, but he gets the first look at whatever dingy piece of jewelry is inside. He flails in excitement, “Look at this!”

Taehyung rushes forward, pushing the man helping him out of the way to reach into the box. When he turns around, he holds a smaller box in his hand, “It’s right here!”

“That’s another box…” You point out, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“It’s not just another box!” He argues. He undoes the latch and pulls the lid back towards him, revealing the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. A delicate string of silver stones bedazzled with small fuschia gems all laced together with a golden band weaving under and over. It glistens in the shine of the storage room work lights, drawing you in with every hypnotizing twinkle.

Taehyung smiles knowingly, enjoying your sudden engrossment in the artifact, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch the delicate jewel. It takes a surprising amount of restraint from you just to pull away, “It’s definitely pretty.”

Yoongi claps his hands from the table beside you, “Let’s get these up to the Ancient Dynasties exhibit and in their places so we can get out of here.”

Everyone takes a box and begins to move upstairs, you and Hoseok helping the men with the old chair to ensure it doesn’t get stuck on anything. With the few items left to be brought into the exhibit, it didn’t take long at all for everything to be settled into their rightful places.

“Perfect! It’s all perfect!” Taehyung cheers, clapping his hands and squeezing them together. His excitement for this event was unmatched, and you know that in the morning when you see him next, he’ll be bouncing up and down just as he is now.

Hoseok nods to you, “Let’s lock them up.”

“Right.” You pull out your keyring and begin the process of going case to case while Hoseok sets their alarms after you. You make it all the way around the room until you stand in front of the necklace again. It’s beauty draws you in, having never seen something like this before. Many would think it too bulky and busy for someone to wear everyday, but a part of you could see it’s appeal.

A part of you wouldn’t mind wearing it at all.

Taehyung walks over to where you stand locking the cases and audibly gasps behind you, “Fix it!”

You jump, “Fix what?”

“The necklace! It’s not straight!” He points at the case and you turn your attention back to the object beneath the glass. Staring at with a clearer mind, it is indeed tilted just slightly to the left. If you were to just glance at it, you probably would have never noticed. But nothing could get past a perfectionist like Taehyung, “We have to fix it now!”

“Okay!” To appease the overly attentive curator, you unlock the case and adjust the necklace yourself. You pull the delicate string of stone and gem into place, locking it back up when you’re done. It glimmers in the corner of your eye as you turn back to Taehyung, “Better?”

He grins, knowing fully well that you’re more than annoyed with him, “Perfect.”

“Alright, now that we’re all done, everyone needs to leave so I can go home.” Yoongi announces.

Hoseok chuckles, “You really don’t want to be up past midnight do you?”

“I don’t care about being up past midnight. I don’t want to be out past midnight.” The older man grumbles, most likely cursing the other in the back of his mind, “There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Hoseok teases, making Yoongi glare at him even harder than before. He turns to the movers and waves for them to follow him, “Gentlemen, let me show you back to your truck. We wouldn’t want the grump over here to bite your head off.”

The group follows after Hoseok and so does Yoongi, “You’re so lucky you’re my friend, Hoseok, or I would fire you so fast.”

Hoseok only laughs at his loose threat, “Well, if you’d like to take the bus then be my guest.”

They all leave the exhibit and you turn to Taehyung who still stands in front of the case admiring the necklace inside, “So, I’ll see you early tomorrow, Tae?”

He turns back to you and gives you a large, reassuring smile, “Bright and early.”

“Go and get some rest for your big day then.” You say, placing a hand on his back and nudging him towards the door.

You watch him leave the exhibit, laughing at the way he dances to the music playing in his head. You take the responsibility of closing the gate, glancing over the exhibits contents between the bars before following Taehyung yourself. You say goodbye to Yoongi and Hoseok at the front door, ensuring the door gets locked behind them before getting to your own duties that were halted because of the shipment.

---

It’s later in the evening when you finally get to make your rounds through the empty halls of the museum. You’d checked every camera in the building twice, filling out your night paperwork as well as the visitor log for Hoseok to look over in the morning as you went. All you really had to do was roam the halls every now and then, keeping an eye on the monitors for anything suspicious.

The night shift was never quite as tiring as the day shift. Your interaction with patrons or real people was always far below what Hoseok and the dayshift would have to deal with - that was part of the reason you chose to take over the night shift. It was a bit more time consuming with just you, but hopefully Hoseok will find someone to replace Chanyeol before the New Year.

You hear a faint bang down the corridor and you pause. You’ve heard bumps like this before, mostly when it would rain and the tree by the ramp outside would hit the window. Rain wasn’t on the forecast for the evening, but that had never stopped it before. Not so easily scared, you continue on down the hall, stopping at the end of the hall when you hear it again.

“What the fuck…?” You say to yourself, a slight shake in your voice. The bang sounds again and you reach for your flashlight, it being the only protection against intruders.

In the three years you’ve worked as a security guard, you’ve never had a break in. Even before you, there had never once been an attempt by anyone to steal anything. In reality, the alarms should’ve gone off by now if someone had made their way into the museum. That meant that someone was smart enough to get past the security system, or you were going crazy.

You really hope you’re going crazy.

You make your way down the hallway, following the bumps and bangs into the Ancient Dynasties exhibit. The gate is locked - it hasn’t been unlocked since you left the room at midnight - but the noise isn’t one easily mistaken.

Against your better judgement you unlock the gate, stepping in and leaving the gate cracked behind you. If you needed a quick escape, then you wanted to be able to yank it closed as well. The noises cease as soon as you’re completely past the gate, sending an ominous chill up your spine. At a glance, nothing in the room seems out of place. Nothing looks to have been moved or damaged, but that does little to settle your unease.

“This is normal...everything is normal.” You say to yourself, trying to trick yourself into having the courage to move forward.

You spot the necklace in it’s spot close to the sarcophagus. It’s glass remains intact, just like every other item within the exhibit’s walls. It would make sense for someone to come after it considering it’s value, yet there it remains untouched.

“So where did the banging come fr-Agh!” You scream as the sarcophagus lid bursts open, falling to the floor in front of it and ripping the ropes connected to the wall right out.

Inside the now open casket, the ancient king covered in tattered, dusty cloth rolls his head. You can see his mouth move from underneath the dirt as he yawns. His arms raise to stretch in front of him, the mummy taking one step out of his box.

You can only stand in shock as you watch what happens in front of you. You had to be dreaming. There was no way you were actually awake witnessing a dead king coming to life in front of you. This had to be some sort of sick joke from Yoongi for calling him short. Maybe Johnny for calling him out in front of that group of fourth graders. Someone has to be messing with you.

The mummy turns his head to you and your breath hitches. You’ve never wanted to have seen The Mummy so much in one moment than this one, wishing you knew what exactly to do in this situation. You wish your feet would move, but they’re planted so firmly to the ground that they feel more like cement than limbs.

The monster before you takes a step in your direction, and you scream. You will yourself to move back, but you can’t stop yourself from stumbling over your own feet. You trip and land on your bottom, your body not even registering the pain as you attempt to scoot back away from the danger that continues to follow after you.

Every step he takes is another scream that releases from your lungs, your fear getting the best of you. It isn’t until your back hits the large display case that helps to divide the room that you realize you have nowhere else to go. You turn your head away, preparing yourself for whatever is about to come.

But nothing does.

You take a peek at the tall being before you and notice that he’s stopped moving, towering over your cowering form with his head tilted. His mouth opens and sounds come out, but his speech is muffled by the bandages. He seems to realize this though as his bandaged hands fly to his face.

You watch him pat around his face and neck until he finds a loose cloth, pulling it out and beginning the process of unwrapping his face. You watch in horror, unsure if the image before you will haunt you forever or not. To see what’s left of a 1,000 year old decomposed body that’s been “preserved” was something you never thought you would ever have to bear witness to. Hopefully, your therapist for this experience will understand.

If you get that far.

However, you weren’t expecting to see a full head of healthy brown hair appear as he went, nor did you expect to see healthy, tanned skin be freed from the confines as well. Brown eyes meet yours and a smile is uncovered, “Hello.”

“Hi...” You blink rapidly, hoping if you do it enough times your vision will clear, but the man in front of you still half-covered in gauze doesn’t disappear. You shake your head, “Am I awake?”

“You are as awake as I am.” He says with a pleasant smile.

“That’s not a very reassuring answer...” You can’t help but stare at him in awe and wonder just how this was happening. Of course, Taehyung had told you countless times about this supposed curse or whatever it was, but you thought it was all just a hoax your ancestors believed in. There is no possible way that you are actually awake and experiencing reincarnation or rebirth or whatever this is firsthand.

“Ow!” You feel a pinch on your calf, pulling you from your thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Or more specifically, the person before you.

“Well, did you feel that?” He asks. In your dazed state, you hadn’t noticed the man bend to your level and reach out to pinch you with rag covered fingers. The dust and mold leave a stain on your work pants and you can’t help but frown in disgust, “Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately I did.”

“You must be frightened and confused. Allow me to introduce myself-” He bows his head to you from where he kneels on the floor, “-I am King Kim Namjoon of Korea.” He looks back up and smiles bright, showcasing his dimples, “It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

You tilt your head in confusion at his choice of words, “I’m sorry, you’ve been waiting for me? I don’t understand.”

“Are you not aware of our bond?” He asks, tilting his own head to the side.

Of course you know about his bond, it’s all that Taehyung has ever told you about! His necklace was gifted by the moon goddess so that when his soulmate touches it, he’ll wake up and they’l-

It takes you a moment to realize that he believes you to be his long lost soulmate, and you’re ready to spiral into another frenzy when you do, “No…”

Soulmates aren’t real. Nobody just walks around and bumps into their soulmate on the street. They don’t hear their voice in the back of their heads. They don’t wait over 1,000 years to be matched with a fucking dead guy.

“No.” You repeat, more confident in yourself.

“I understand you may be confused as to what this all must mean, but I’ll explain it to you-” Namjoon tries to reach out to you again, but you’re quick to push him away this time.

You stand from the floor in a rush and take two steps towards the center of the room where the two display cases separate and show a clear path to the exhibit’s only exit, “No, you won’t. Please return to your box.”

He stands up after you but stops when he sees you step back again, “But we’re destined to be together!”

“Destiny isn’t real! This-” You gesture with both hands from you to him, “-isn’t real!”

“Our bond is as real as you and I!” He argues. You can feel the want and passion dripping from his voice. It isn’t hard to tell how much he truly believes you’re his soulmate, but he’s dead wrong - no pun intended. “I’ve spent so long waiting for you.”

“Nope.” It didn’t matter how many times he flashes you that lovestruck look. Soulmates weren’t real, and whatever is going on in front of you isn’t real either, “This isn’t happening.” You turn away from him, resorting to pacing out your frustrations instead of voicing them.

Namjoon watches you with a disappointed frown and slumped shoulders, “Well, this isn’t how this was supposed to happen.” He mumbles.

You attempt to calm your breathing, pleading with your rationale to find some way - any way - to explain what’s happening. The whole interaction felt like a crazy fever dream that manifested on the worst day of a cold. They’re always weird, but they’re never this realistic.

You turn back around to address the not-so-dead king and yelp when you see him pulling at his wrap, “What are you doing?!” You ask as he tugs and pulls at the rotten fabric.

Namjoon looks up, pausing his ministrations to give you an answer, “I’m removing these incessant wrappings.”

He returns to his unwrapping, leaving you to watch him as he goes. He wasn’t naked - thankfully - but you weren’t prepared for him to immediately unwrap himself. In all honesty, you wanted him to wrap himself back up and return to his box. Fortunately for you, under his wrappings he wears a loose white shirt and loose tan pants, his shoes long forgotten.

When he finally frees himself, he takes a moment to look around the room. His gaze trails over the walls, “What is this place? Why are we not in my tomb?”

“You’re in a museum.” You explain, watching closely to gauge his reaction. In a way, he wasn’t really that old in retrospect, but you doubt he’d seen a museum before.

He turns to look at you, just as confused as you expected him to be, “What is that?”

You shrug, “It’s a place where people go to see old things and art.”

Namjoon breaks into a smile, a red tint coloring his cheeks, “I wouldn’t say I’m art.”

“I didn’t.” You say, causing Namjoon’s face to drop just the slightest.

He’s quick to mask his disappointment with a polite smile. Turning to the side of the case he stands on, he looks back to the exhibit around him. He looks up and his eyes trail over the lights above him, “What dynasty is this?” He asks.

“Uh...the capitalist dynasty?” You reply, unsure of what you would call this era of time. Namjoon looks confused and you sigh, “You’re in the 21st century.”

“Fascinating…” He takes a long look over the glass case a few feet in front of him - the one that holds the crown made for his queen - before he moves forward, reaches out, and swipes a hand over top of it, collecting a thin sheen of dust on his fingertips.

“Don’t do that!” You rush forward and grab his wrist, pulling it away in fear of the alarm going off. Anybody who even got too close to it should set it off, yet no siren wails at his touch. The alarms had been set by Hoseok himself, so they have to be broken if neither of you were setting it off, “What…?”

“Can I have my arm back, or is this a new rude custom I’m unaware of?” Namjoon asks, staring at the place on his wrist your hand holds hostage.

“No, just-...” You release his arm and take a breath as a poor attempt to remain calm, “-just don’t touch anything.”

“We’ll need to touch the case to get your necklace so we can return to my home together.” He says as if what he suggested was completely normal for him.

You’re once again taken aback by his words, unsure if you heard him correctly or not, “I’m sorry?” You ask.

“We’re soulmates,” He explains, “It’s only natural for you to come live with me, so we can spend our days together.”

“We will not be going anywhere together!” You tell him. You step forward and grab him by the shoulders, turning him around so he faces his sarcophagus. You attempt to push him, “You will be staying here in your box, and you’re going to go back to sleep.”

Namjoon fights against your attempts, digging his feet into the hardwood floor beneath him. He scowls at the realization of what you’re trying to do, “Did you not hear what I said earlier? You are my destined lover. That’s how this is supposed to work!”

“And I told you that destiny isn’t real!” You argue, now using your shoulder to push all of your weight against him.

Namjoon turns to face you, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. Namjoon grabs your arms before you can fall to the floor, using this opportunity to hold you close, “Is my life not enough proof for you?”

Dark brown eyes bore into your own, his sincerity written all over his features. You can tell he’s hurt, but you can’t help but continue to fight against him, “I don’t know! I’m still trying to process everything that’s happening right now!”

“As soon as we leave, I will explain everything to you in much greater detail.” He says, now offering a smile. However, leaving with him is the last thing you wish to do.

You push away from him and take a few steps back towards the exhibit's entrance, “We are not leaving.”

“I am a king, I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams! I can take care of you and it is my job to do so.” He reaches out and takes you by your wrist, “We’re going!”

“I don’t even know you!” You yell, pulling your arm away from him once more and stepping closer towards the exit behind you.

Namjoon looks annoyed, but he takes a deep breath before he continues to try and pursued you, “Why don’t you allow us to get to know each other then? At least tell me your name.”

“Just-” You pause, unsure of what you should even do. You take a few more steps back and he follows, “Stay there!” You demand, raising a finger to him. He does as told - whether he wishes to or not - and allows you to take a few more steps back until you catch sight of the gate in your peripherals. As long as he stays where he is, you could slip out without him, “Good.”

Namjoon, however, takes offense to you keeping your distance from him. This was no way to treat a king, especially ‘your’ king nonetheless, “Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am a king, may I remind you.”

“You may. But may I also remind you that your rule ended over 1,000 years ago and you no longer hold any power.” You say, watching the frown on his features deepen into a scowl. With every minute that passes, his calm exterior continues to break, showing you his true nature. You take this moment of weakness against him and reach for his exhibit key on your belt, “I, however, am in charge of this museum after hours, so you have to listen to me.”

“I am a man-” He tries to argue, but you’re quick to shut his misogyny down.

“-And I am a woman,” You retort, thumbing through the labeled keys. Hoseok always made fun of you for trying to organize them, but it looks like the jokes on him. Not that he would really believe you if you told him.

“Your man card doesn’t work in this age, so try something else, your highness~” You tease.

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest and glares, “You have quite the tongue when you’re not screaming.”

“Thank you, I get it from my grandmother. Now-” You slip through the crack you left in the gate and pull it close, pulling his key from it’s retractable clip and locking him in, “-go back to sleep.”

He blinks a few times before he moves towards you. He places his hands on the bars and pulls at them, but they don’t budge under him. His eyes widen in shock and he turns to you, “Did you just lock me in here?”

“I did.” You nod, smug smile and all.

“Unlock it. Now.” He demands, tightening his hold on the bars.

“Hm…” You pretend to contemplate his request, tapping a finger against your chin before you come to a fake decision, “No.”

“You insolent girl!” Namjoon yells, banging his fists against the gate that holds him.

You step back with wide eyes, stunned by his sudden outburst. You knew you were making him angry, but not this angry, “Wow, that’s one way to talk to your apparent soulmate.”

“I’ve been pleasant long enough! It’s time for you to accept the truth and let. Me. Out!” He demands.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I will.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” He huffs.

Staring at him through the bars, you take in his features. He’s angry, that much is clear. But there’s something else about him that just seems more hurt than anything. You don’t want to feel bad for him, but you have to give him credit where it’s due.

You release an exasperated sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This is probably hard for you and...a fever dream for me-” Fever dream is perhaps the most lax way to describe this experience, “-but I think your necklace chose the wrong person.”

Namjoon stiffens and he almost looks offended at your assumption, “The moon goddess is never wrong.”

“Well, this time she is,” You insist.

“So what do you expect me to do?” He asks.

You shrug, “I’d prefer it if you went back into your box.”

“You want me to live my life in a box? After I’ve already spent so much time in it?!” He asks.

“Yes! No...I-” You’re unsure of what to say. On one hand, you feel a bit guilty asking him to return to a box he’s spent 1,000 years in. He died once, believing that when he woke he’d be greeted by his one true love. Instead he woke up to you screaming at him.

But on the other hand, he was supposed to be dead.

You sigh, “I don’t know what I want, but I can’t deal with-...” You raise your hands, grasping at the air before gesturing to him, “-this.”

The king looks offended, but he holds his tongue. Instead he crosses his arms and straightens his posture, “Well, I will not be going back in that box.”

“Wha-?” You cut yourself off, in disbelief of this man’s stubbornness. You huff, “Then go find your palace or wherever you lived before!”

He shakes his head, “I won’t leave if you refuse to leave with me.”

“Then you better get used to your view, because this is all you’ll be seeing!” You state, finally having enough of him. You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, something you should have done when you first came up to the exhibit.

“You’ll come to realize that our intertwined fates will not go away just because you wish them to!” He calls after you, his voice echoing off the walls around you, “And then you’ll be crawling back to me!”

When you continue walking and refuse to answer him, he yells again, “At least let me explore!”

“Not happening!” You call over your shoulder.

“This is humiliating! You can’t do this!” You hear him rattling the gate again, but you pay him no mind. “Come back here, you insolent child!”

You bypass every other exhibit that you were supposed to check, instead rushing back to the safety of your office. Once you’re in you bolt the door behind you, just in case anything else in the building decided it needed to come to life as well. You drop yourself in your office chair and take a moment to yourself, giving yourself time to take in all of the events that just transpired.

The mummy from the new exhibit just came to life, you were somehow able to talk to him without passing out, he thinks you’re his soulmate, and now he’s upset with you because you locked him in his exhibit that he shouldn’t be freely roaming in.

You turn to your monitor and switch through feeds until you find Namjoon’s exhibit. He’s still standing by the closed gate, his hands slipped through the bars to try and fiddle with the lock. His posture that he once held with you is lacking, not as pristine as it was before. You can’t help but watch him with pity as his attempts to get out continue to fail.

But you can’t bring yourself to go back before the night ends.

30 minutes before the morning shift was due to come in, you use the intercom to tell Namjoon he’d have to return to his sarcophagus for the day. You couldn’t hear him, but you didn’t need a microphone to know he was not only confused but also very unhappy about that. You managed to convince him by informing him they would take him away to rot in a cell without you if he didn’t, and that seemed to kick him into gear.

Thankfully, he didn’t need your help making it back to his bed or putting the cover on top. You were not about to go down to his exhibit. Especially when the room itself looked completely untouched on the camera. The ropes that had been torn from the wall were back in their place as if nothing had ever happened, and the wrappings the King decided to discard were nowhere to be seen.

After that, you sat and waited for the morning shift to come and take over for you. You said good morning to all of your coworkers, and then you left. You went home and you went to bed, but waking again didn’t feel like a new experience. The looming feeling of knowing what awaits when you get to work again haunts you until your once again clearing the exhibits for the night.

You make it to the exhibit that has weighed you down for the past 12 hours and you hesitate to step inside. Clearing the room and locking it up will start the night, and then you’re left with the chances of seeing him again. Seeing him again means that everything you saw last night wasn’t a joke, and that you really have a living mummy in your museum.

What’s worse is he thinks you're his true love.

You come across Taehyung, once again sitting on the bench in front of the king’s sarcophagus. He wears a loose white button down and a pair of black dress pants, balancing a sketch pad on his thigh. He attempts to draw the exhibits main attraction with the altar that took weeks to create. If only he knew the object of his affections was alive and well only 15 feet away from him.

“Having fun there?” You ask, sitting next to the fashionable curator.

He takes a moment to answer, defining a line on his paper before he acknowledges you, “I always do when I’m here with Namjoon-hyung.” You roll your eyes at his use of ‘hyung’ and he chuckles. He turns his attention back to his paper, “Did you have a good rest of your night?”

You feel every bone in your body tense at the mention of the previous night. Last night was almost an out of body experience for you, and there was no real way to describe what you went through.

You shrug, “It was okay, same old same old.”

“That’s good! I’m glad you’re doing well here on your own at night.” He looks up from his shading and sets his pencil down, his expression becoming somber, “It must be hard without Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, it can be...” Working without Chanyeol really wasn’t any worse than working together. The only thing is now your new coworker is a 1,000 year old un-dead guy, but that’s a little much to explain, “But it’s fine! It really isn’t that strenuous on me at all.”

He smiles at your response and turns to look at his drawing, “I guess I’m holding you up aren’t I?”

You want to tell him more than anything that today you want him to stay just a little longer. Today is the day you want to hear all about every exhibit in the museum. More than anything, you just don’t want to face Namjoon alone, but no one would believe you if you told them the truth. So instead, you hum in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Once again, you watch him pack up and dance his way out of the exhibit. Only today you follow close behind, locking the king’s exhibit and rushing to the next - much more normal - exhibit.

---

It’s surreal to watch Namjoon through a screen. Sure, seeing him the other night was an experience, but to see that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you is another trip entirely! With Namjoon truly existing, that leads you to really question his claims. You did touch the necklace, but so had plenty of others. Not to mention, it took him almost 3 hours after you’d touched it to wake up, so who’s to say that Taehyung isn’t his true soulmate? Even Yoongi could be!

Anyone but you.

He’s much more different now that he’s ‘chilled out’ from last night’s events. He’s no longer pacing back and forth or banging on his exhibit’s gate - though he has tried to pull it open once or twice. Now, he just sits on the bench where you had sat with Taehyung, only he sits facing away from his final resting place.

He looks to be in deep thought, as if he’s contemplating something as he stares ahead of him. You like him better this way, calm and quiet instead of trying too hard to convince you to run away with him. This king you could babysit until he fell back asleep as he should’ve been in the first place.

With him seemingly content, you allow yourself to work on other things you’d normally do throughout the night. You mainly focus on the online coursework you didn’t get done due to the distraction on the screen in front of you, organizing your office in between assignments. You don’t really pay any mind to your cameras until you catch movement coming from Namjoon’s.

On the screen, he appears to be waving his arms and yelling, resembling those people you see on TV when someone gets injured. You can’t help but sigh. You’ve been putting off your rounds just so you wouldn’t have to go by his exhibit for him to accost you, now you didn’t have a choice but to go see what was troubling him before he broke something.

You grab your flashlight and tuck it into its place on your belt clip, leaving the safety of your office to see what his majesty so desperately needs from you. It must be desperate if he’s yelling for the entire city to hear. You quicken your pace to get there faster, hopefully before anybody besides you has the chance to hear his cries.

“Soulmate!” He yells, his voice clear as day as you reach level 3, “Come here! I demand your presence!”

“If you don’t stop yelling for everyone to hear you, then I’m going to turn around and leave you alone!” You yell back, assuming he hears you when the yelling doesn’t continue. You make it to the gate of his exhibit and find him waiting for you with his arms crossed, no longer as relaxed as he was when the night began.

“What?” You ask, stopping in front of him.

He doesn’t give you the pleasure of knowing right away. Instead, he looks you up and down with a hard glare, “You didn’t bring me food.”

“That’s what you’re yelling about?” You ask in disbelief.

Namjoon takes offense to your indifference, “Yes! For your information, I am very hungry for someone who hasn’t eaten in over 1,000 years.”

In hindsight, you’d most likely be a little angry too if you hadn’t eaten in so long as well - though it’s not really an excuse for his behavior last night. But explaining why an unconscious guy was chilling on the floor of a locked exhibit with security footage showing him coming out of the sarcophagus would not be fun for anyone involved.

“I’ll be right back.” You leave him to run back to the break room, grabbing the prepackaged lunch you had bought for yourself, a pair of disposable chopsticks, and a banana milk that you kept stashed behind Hoseok’s forgotten lunchbox before heading back up.

Namjoon gives you a strange look when you come back, his eyes trained on the box in your hand, “What is that?”

“It was my lunch, but you probably need this more than me.” You look for the key to his exhibit on your belt, sifting through until you find the right label and pull it up to unlock the gate. You pause before turning the lock, “Move back to the case.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, his eyes narrowed in a glare. You return your own glare until he finally gives in and takes the steps back to the case as you asked him to, “Happy?”

You nod and turn the lock over, opening the gate and slipping inside with the food you brought for him. You hand him the lunchbox and the milk before you reach into your back pocket for the chopsticks, “Sorry if it’s not what you’re used to, but this is all I’ve got-”

“-There’s no need.” He raises a hand to stop you - an action that irks you to no end - and sits on the floor with the food you’ve given him. You watch as he struggles with the tape that holds it together, holding back your laughter when he manages to get it off the box and stuck to his fingers instead. He seems to relax when he rubs it off on the floor, but his next challenge comes when he opens the packet of chopsticks and there’s only one inside, “What this?!”

“I’m going to assume you’ve never seen this before.” You bend down to his level to take the chopsticks from him, holding each one and pulling them apart to create two, perfectly good chopsticks. You bite back a laugh when you see the amazement written across Namjoon’s face, “Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Very…” He says. You hand him the chopsticks, watching with amusement as he tries to fit them back together. One drops and he fumbles to catch it before he realizes you’re still watching him, quickly using the utensils to shove food in his mouth as a distraction.

“Here.” Not wanting him to embarrass himself further, you take his banana milk and open it for him, setting it beside him while he eats. He takes a moment to take a sip and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What is this?” He asks, holding the bottle close to his face to inspect the label.

You shrug, “It’s just banana milk.”

“Well, it tastes fantastic!” He tilts his head back and chugs the rest of it, wiping his mouth before turning back to you with the same expression of a puppy ready to play, “Is there more?”

“Uh…” You hesitate to answer, afraid he’ll try to boss you around again, “Yeah, we do.”

“Bring me-!” He stops when he sees your expression sour. Instead, he clears his throat and bows his head, “If you wouldn’t mind, could I please have another?”

“Sure thing.” You smile, and he smiles back. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an understanding after the fiasco that happened the night before.

So, you rush back while he continues eating, grabbing two more banana milks and a bag of chips for you to munch on yourself. When you come back, you’re not surprised to see that he’s finished his food and left the box laying on the floor with the empty milk container. You want to be upset with him for just leaving his trash lying around, but it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s trying so hard to work the kiosk.

“This infernal contraption doesn’t work!” He yells, hitting the top of it as if that would somehow make it work. Of course, he’s not the only person to try this - you’ve seen many middle aged men try to do the same thing when you close - but it would only prove to break if he didn’t dial it back.

“Don’t do that!” You rush to his side and push his hands away, blocking him from touching the kiosk any more. “You can’t just hit things and expect them to work. That’s not how people solve their problems.”

“Well, it doesn’t have a mouth, so how am I supposed to talk to it?” He questions.

“Okay…” You heave a sigh and grab the headphones that rest on the kiosk’s base, a pair for you and a pair for Namjoon. You place yours on your head and then move to place Namjoon’s over his ears. He flinches away from your touch and you pull back a bit, “It’s okay, I’m just going to show you how this works.”

He relaxes, bowing his head so you can place the headphones over his ears. Once they’re well adjusted, you tap the screen of the kiosk to bring it to life. You read through the options designed for the exhibit, choosing to let it read through information about Namjoon himself.

“The Kim Dynasty-” The woman’s voice fills both of your ears, scaring Namjoon so much that he jumps back and his headphones clang to the floor.

His scared expression is priceless, eyes wide and hands raised to defend himself. You laugh, picking up his headphones and extending them to him, “That’s supposed to happen.”

“How is it doing that? Is there a woman trapped in each of these?” He asks, eyeing the other kiosks that line the wall beside the one you share.

You shake your head, “It’s called a recording. They made a copy of her voice and put it in here so the people that come here can learn more about you.”

“Oh…” He accepts your answer and the headphones in your hand, “I see the moon goddess has been very busy.”

“Here.” You grab his hand and fix it so his pointer finger sticks out, guiding his hand so it presses lightly against the glass to select a different option. A new section of Namjoon’s life begins to play and Namjoon seems impressed by the ‘power’ he holds in one appendage. “This is called a touch-screen. You just have to tap the buttons on the screen and it’ll change.”

He nods, staring intently at the screen before him. He tilts his head and taps the little home button at the top left, surprised when the screen changes from a video to the screen it started on. He smiles, his dimples popping out as he chooses another option, “This is amazing!”

His smile is infectious, as well as his eagerness to learn more about the technology in front of him, “I’ll just leave you to play with that for a bit, I have a job to do.”

“Yes! Okay.” He waves you off, paying more attention to the kiosk than to you.

You lock the gate behind you when you leave, though it doesn’t seem like Namjoon even took notice of either action. Even after you rush through your duties to come back to him sooner, he’s still playing with the same kiosk with a child’s enthusiasm.

“You’re really enjoying yourself.” You muse, standing off to the side behind him.

Namjoon nods, his fingers still dancing across the screen, “This technology is amazing! If only we had this in my dynasty. I can only imagine the advantages we would have had.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, it definitely comes in handy. Though, a lot of people believe it’s made us weaker as a society.”

“I can see why. Everything I could ever want to know about myself is right here at my fingertips,” He says, scrolling through the different options he could look through. He comes across a picture of himself and grimaces, “I wish they would have used a different portrait.”

You chuckle in amusement, “Well, if you’re not having my trouble, then I‘m going to get back to my office.” You go to leave the room again when Namjoon grabs you by the arm.

“Wait!” He yells, pulling you back to him. It takes him a second to realize what he did before he let’s go, “Sorry!”

“It’s fine.” You mumble.

“I just-...” The king pauses, taking a moment to collect himself, “I wanted to know if I could look at more exhibits tomorrow?”

His eyes look down into yours, so hopeful for a good answer. You’re unsure, “I don’t know…” You want to say yes to him, but there’s so much at stake if you were to let him walk around on his own. Granted, he couldn’t trip the alarms, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break anything.

“I won’t touch anything, I swear!” He promises, both of his hands reaching out to take your own. He holds them to his chest, lightly cradling against the fabric of his shirt as he begs you, “I just don’t want to spend the rest of my time sitting in this room when there’s so much more around me.”

That gets you.

If there was one thing you could understand, it was being somewhere new with so much knowledge that you just had to know more. For someone like Namjoon, this was more than that. He had a whole world to try to come to terms with, and he was standing in the best place to do so. If you denied him that, then would you be able to deal with it?

“Tomorrow.” You say, “I’ll let you explore the museum tomorrow.”

Namjoon’s eyes light up and it looks like a weight is lifted right off of his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate to bow to you, “Thank you, soulmate.”

“It’s not the whole museum!” You add quickly, “And my name is (Y/n).” He seems unhappy at first, but he does eventually nod to give his thanks where it was due. You give a polite bow back, “You’re welcome.”

The next night comes all too quickly for you. Leaving him alone to explore was more than nerve wracking. You were probably out of your mind for even considering letting him out on his own, let alone trusting him in the first place. Sitting in your office you’d check the camera’s every few minutes just to be sure he was still in the hall, or you’d pinpoint his last location and make your final round of the museum according to how he’d walk through the halls.

That first night, Namjoon only went through his exhibit and the rest of level 3. Occasionally you’d catch him playing with a water fountain on the camera’s in front of the bathroom. Another time you caught him turning towards a planter and you quickly changed screens, reminding yourself to open a bathroom for him for the next night.

As two more nights pass, you notice his want to get closer to the exhibits than to just sit on the outside. More often than not, you caught him with his face pressed against the metal bars trying to get a closer look at everything. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wanted to be in the room with the art itself, but a part of you is still worried to let him have that extra inch.

It’s only on the 5th night when Taehyung takes notice of your woes that you change your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning over himself on the bench to look at you. You sit with your hands in your lap just staring at Namjoon in front of you, wondering if you can really trust him to continue keeping his word. You don’t notice Taehyung, nor do you hear his question. He rolls his eyes and taps your knee twice, “Hey!”

“Huh?” You blink away your thoughts and turn your attention to him. Unaware of what he asked, you tilt your head in confusion, “What?”

Taehyung hums to himself and nods, “I’m right, something is wrong with you.”

“What do you mean something’s wrong with me?” You ask defensively.

Taehyung sighs and shows you his watch, showing you that it’s 5 minutes past weekday closing time, “This is the longest you’ve let me sit here rambling to myself. 10 minutes past our normal time!”

You shake your head, content to push him away, “I’m just a bit distracted, that’s all.”

“By what? Is it a work problem? Family troubles? You can tell me, I’ll listen!” He assures you.

You have no doubt in your mind that he will listen to you, but how do you explain your situation is the real problem at hand. There were only so many excuses in the world, and if you weren’t careful you might get yourself fired just for using a bad analogy.

You weigh your options and sigh, “My niece - she’s really little and way too rambunctious to come here - really wants to come and see the art on display. I want her to come see where I work because I know she likes the art, but I know my sister is worried about her breaking something or causing a scene.”

“Hmm...I see.” Taehyung hums, not showing any sign of suspicion against you. He really thinks about your ‘concern’ before he comes to a conclusion. “I think she should come and see.”

“Really?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah! It’s best to let children experience art and it’s creativity for themselves! Even young children have an eye for art, and those who truly appreciate it only want to see it up close to see every detail.”

“I guess that does make sense…” Thinking about it, he does have a point. Namjoon may be from a different moment in time, but he’s still a grown adult.

Taehyung seems to sense your uncertainty and places a calming hand on your knee, “Art isn’t meant to be viewed from afar. It’s made to make us feel emotion.” He explains, “Even the most unlikely of patrons can find something that makes them appreciate art.”

Even after your talk is finished and you’ve left Namjoon’s exhibit unlocked for him to let himself out, you’re still debating your next course of action. There’s a big risk in letting him roam through the exhibits, but you can’t in good conscience let him sit around doing nothing forever.

You find Namjoon on level 4, his face pressed against the bars of the Apparel Through the Ages exhibit. You sneak up behind him and clear your throat, “Good evening, your highness.”

Namjoon stumbles back, not expecting you to be there. It’s amusing to watch him scramble into a more respectable position with his hands behind his back. He glances your way, “Have you come around already?”

“No, I haven’t,” You say. You pull at the keys on your belt and jingle them, “I’ve come to open an exhibit for you.”

“What?” He’s surprised, “Will you really?”

“Someone told me that those who appreciate art want to take in all the details they can.” It didn’t take a genius to see that Namjoon wants to see more than he can see at the exhibit’s gates. An old soul like his could probably use some new perspective, “You choose the exhibit and I’ll unlock it.”

“Any of them?” He asks.

You nod, “Just lead the way.”

The light in his eyes that you saw the night before comes back and it relaxes you for some reason. Even as he takes your wrist to lead you down the hall to the exhibit he wants to see, it’s as if he’s two different people. It’s almost confusing how quickly his demeanor changes with you. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he becomes a child. Yet the moment you offer something new - something for him to learn about - it’s as if he’s just a child at heart.

When you open the Animal Kingdom exhibit on level 2 for him you’re thrown for another loop. He only gives you a simple thanks and walks away, leaving you to question if he’s just inherently an asshole or if he’s just petty. Even as you come back around from your rounds to close up for the night, he still seems to flip back and forth with his own personality and his thanks.

You go home that morning confused and on a mission. You throw the notion of sleep out the window and settle onto your couch with a cup of coffee and your laptop, determined to know more about this so-called King that intends to ruin your life little by little.

A simple Google search brings you many results, ranging in portraits and newspaper articles to biographies written by renowned historians. You click on the first link available, taking you to a page drowning in photos and art. It would seem that even in life, Namjoon enjoyed surrounding himself with art.

His portraits were absolutely breathtaking - you could understand his disappointment now that you’ve seen more than just the one - and the pictures they showcase of his palace are surrounded in flowers and gorgeous statement pieces littered across the grounds. It’s surprising to read that they’ve remained there for so long without any disturbances. You would have thought they’d taken one or two lawn pieces like they had taken Namjoon, yet they remain in their home without any signs of distress to them.

You take another long sip of coffee and move onto another page, checking out a more informative website. This one goes into detail about his life as a prince and as a king. You discover that he became king at the young age of 17 when his parents sadly passed away during an ambush to the throne. Apparently, he changed over half of the Kingdom’s laws the very next day and saw to every change in policy himself. It only took him 3 months to get the people of his kingdom to trust in him and his guidance, which - according to the article - was a big feat for his time.

You’re surprised to read about his contributions to his people. He strongly encouraged his people to progress forward and bring him their concerns, he housed over 30 children in his home at one time because they had no homes to go to and he even had a sort of sanctuary for animals to be cared for under his watch. He oversaw their historians writing, ensuring that they put every detail on paper. Even his failures were written down under his careful eye, despite his power to erase them from future generations

This Namjoon was so kind and caring. He was so well educated and well-spoken, and he was loved by all of his people for his generosity and understanding nature. How is it that a man who was known for being so kind, could be the same man who bossed you around and demanded that you spend the rest of your life with him?

How is it that a guy who sounds so sweet on paper can be a total dick in real life?

* * *

After hours of research with no sleep and a cold shower to wake you up, you find yourself standing in front of Namjoon with a copy of The Little Prince tucked on top of the food you’ve brought him for the night.

Namjoon accepts the food, taking the boxed lunch with one hand so he can pick up the book with the other. He inspects it carefully, flipping it over a few times to look it over, “What’s this?”

“I did a little research on you, your highness. According to historians and the internet, you were quite the avid reader.” You’d read a lot about Namjoon, and every website you visited gave you list upon list of books read by him when he was still alive and well. They all spoke of his fascination for fantasy novels and those with deeper meanings behind them. The Little Prince seemed like a no brainer to you when it came to more relevant novels to fit his tastes. “I figured you might get bored sooner or later, so I brought you something to pass the time until you fall asleep again.”

“You know that’s not how the enchantment works, yes?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment before you reply, “No, I don’t know that. Do you?”

“I-” Namjoon is at a loss for your teasing words. Instead he frowns and turns his nose,“It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen it happen! I trust the moon goddess!”

“Mhmm, whatever you say~” You laugh, much to his annoyance. Namjoon sits down to eat his food and you take that as a sign for you to continue doing your job, “Enjoy your book and your food.”

You go to leave, but the king calls after you, “Can’t you stay here? Keep me company?”

You pause. His company wasn’t terrible, but you don’t want to stay and risk giving him a sense of false hope. He was still over 1,000 years old, and you were still a broke college student trying to pay her way through life. You’ve never been the type to play with someone’s emotions, and you weren’t going to start now.

“That’s not in my job description.” You say. You almost regret your choice when you see his sad expression, but you steel yourself, “Have a good night.”

You leave him, not coming back until you’re making a lap on your rounds. And there - sitting against one of the large display cases - sits Namjoon with the book held loosely in his hands, his face holding a look of pure concentration and a ghost of a smile. He looks so peaceful and content sitting cross-legged on the hard wood of his exhibit, you almost feel bad for asking him to return to his sarcophagus. But that night he goes willingly.

And you can’t help but notice the glow of the necklace on your way out.

---

“Hey-!” You turn your head away from the water fountain, hearing Jimin’s voice call down the already noisy hall. You spy him at the entrance of the gift shop, but his attention is on a girl passing by who’s turned to look at him as well. He holds a box in his hand, but you can’t see what’s inside from where you stand. “Have you seen our new merchandise that just came in?”

“Uh...no, I haven’t.” The girl seems slightly uncomfortable. Either from his approach from the gift shop for her to buy something, or just from a guy who looks like Jimin approaching her - you don’t know which.

You walk closer to the gift shop, curious yourself about the mystery box in Jimin’s hands.

“This - my lovely lady - is our newest piece of jewelry.” He opens the box and you catch a glimmer of silver and fuschia, “The necklace of King Kim Namjoon’s lost lover.”

Her face lights up initially when she sees it, but then her face drops and she shakes her head, “Oh, no, thank you.”

“You don’t want to buy it?” He asks. Jimin pouts and you can feel the immediate distress coming off the poor girl he’s talking to.

“It’s pretty, but it’s a little expensive…” She tries to explain her situation - whether it’s true or not - but Jimin is relentless.

He looks around the hall to make sure no one is too close to listen - all but you anyways - and gets closer to her, “But don’t you know the legend behind the necklace?”

“Of course I do! King Kim Namjoon’s soulmate is supposed to wear this necklace.” She says.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Jimin makes a point of string into her eyes, unwilling to break their eye contact, “Legend says he prayed to the moon goddess herself to find his true love and she gifted him with her own special moonstone to guide his other half to him!”

He moves closer, so that the two are almost shoulder to shoulder just so he can give her a closer view of the product, “These pink stones are pieces of the King’s soulmate's heart, and they’ll glow brightest when his lover wears his necklace by his side!”

“Wow...that’s so romantic.” You can see her resolve breaking, and you almost feel bad for her that Jimin is the clerk on duty today.

“Do you want to know the best part?” He asks, his smile reaching his cheeks and his eyes full of mischief that resemble love almost too closely. She nods enthusiastically and Jimin brings the box closer so she can see, “This gold string that holds it altogether represents their connection to each other. It’s a bond that can’t be broken by anything in the universe.”

He carelessly throws an arm over her shoulder, just light enough to be seen as friendly. Though, it would seem the small trick is already working it’s magic on the poor thing. He squeezes her shoulder, “A lot of people believe that wearing this necklace will bring you closer to finding your own true love, so they package them with their own prayers to the moon goddess in hopes she’ll grant them eternal love as well.”

“Really?!” She asks. She looks to him as if he holds the whole universe in his hands, having been swayed by the blonde’s charm.

“Yeah!”

Just like that, you watch him lead her back to the counter and then wave her and her new treasure goodbye, holding a sticky note close to his heart.

“Should you really be lying like that?”You ask from the store’s entrance. You’re more than disappointed to see yet another girl fall for the man’s charms

Jimin shrugs, “I didn’t lie. I just stretched the truth.”

You walk up to the counter and snatch the note out of his hand, “Stretching the truth sounds a lot like lying.”

“Don’t you have a monitor to watch somewhere?” He teases. You hand him the paper back and he sticks it in his pocket, bending below the counter to grab another.

You can’t help but think about what he said, and the legend behind the real necklace. You’ve heard a lot about the real thing, but all of it usually went in one ear and out the other as myth for you. Now that you know it’s real and far from a hoax, you have so much more that you need to know.

Jimin pops back up with a stack of necklaces in his arms and sets them on the counter in front of you, pulling out a sheet of tags that go with them. You take the sheet from his hand and peel one off, handing it to him, “Can I ask you a question? About the necklace?”

“Sure, but Taehyung is the expert around here.” He says, accepting your sticker to place on the box in front of him.

“You think I don’t know that?” You laugh. You look down and peel off another one, “Is all of what you said about the necklace itself true? About the real necklace?”

“According to Taehyung it is!” He nods, not even sparing you a glance, “The moon goddess gave the King a necklace so powerful that only he and his lover could tear the bond if they chose to, but they never got the chance to meet.”

You hand him another sticker, but you stare into space as you do, “That’s...really sad.” You can’t help but think of the pain Namjoon had to go through knowing his soulmate would be by his side, but not knowing it wouldn’t be in his first lifetime. Not only that, but to wake up and then be met with someone who doesn’t even want to be his soulmate? You can’t help but think about how you’d act towards him if the roles were reversed and he were in your shoes.

You’d be devastated.

“It is.” He takes the sticker from you with one hand and flicks your forehead with the other. You flinch and pull back with your hand rubbing the spot he hit while he just smirks at you, “You would know if you ever listened to Taehyung.”

“Yeah.” You don’t even register your response before handing the sticker sheet back to Jimin and pushing off the counter, “Thanks Jimin! Have a good night, okay? Don’t call me at 2am like last week.”

“No promises~” He sings, going back to his work in front of him.

Later that night when you’re handing Namjoon his dinner, you sit with him to eat yours as well. The look Namjoon gives you as you calmly open your dinner across from him is almost too good to ignore.

“What are you doing?” He asks, slowly unboxing his own lunch.

You pay him no mind as you break apart your chopsticks to start eating, “You wanted me to keep you company, remember? Or is my presence no longer appreciated?” You pick up a clump of rice and turn your attention to him, eyebrow raised.

Namjoon is quick to shake his head and get started on his own food, “Of course it is!”

You both eat in awkward silence, neither of you quite sure how to start a normal conversation. You’ve only ever made polite talk with him, and he only ever seemed to anger you no matter what he said. The only time you were ever civil was when you would show him something new.

Namjoon swallows his food and clears his throat, “Where would you like me to escort you tonight, my lady?”

You shake your head, “First of all, don’t call me ‘your lady’ or anything else other than my name.” You warn him, pointing at the tag on your jacket. He nods and you continue with your rant, “Second, I have some rounds to do, so you can join me tonight as long as you don’t bother me too much. Understood?”

“Yes, my la-” You narrow your eyes at him and he corrects himself, “(Y/n).”

The two of you finish your food quickly with some small talk made here and there. When you’ve cleaned up, you allow Namjoon to lead you to another exhibit he’s yet to see. All the way on level 1, he wants to see art he’s more familiar with.

“So, you said you asked the moon goddess for a chance to meet your soulmate?” You ask one you’re inside the museum.

“Indeed,” Namjoon nods, listening to you as he takes in the art around him, “I prayed to her one night on a full moon and I begged her to send me a lover. Someone I could confide in and care for, and would do the same for me.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “And instead she gave you the necklace?”

“No, she gave you a way to find me.” He says, a genuine look of happiness on his face.

“Still-“ You feel a heat rising in your face and you can’t help but turn away from him out of embarrassment. Your eyes land on a painting of a couple and you feel the knife dig just a little deeper, “-you asked her for someone to rule by your side as your equal and she let fate tear you apart.”

He shrugs, “Maybe we weren’t meant to meet before now.”

His calm exterior bothers you. If you had asked for what he had, you’d be livid! He made a promise and that promise was misguided!

“How can you be so calm?” You ask, allowing your thoughts to be heard.

Namjoon stops to look at a picture of a cherry blossom in the winter, it’s petals covered in frost. He smiles, “You said you read about me from one of your current books. The internet? What do they tell you of me?”

You chuckle at his misunderstanding of what the internet truly is, “Well, the internet told me that you were a very generous and beloved king. They said you were intelligent and caring.”

He chuckles, “I’m flattered.” He looks to you with an amused smile and you elbow his side carefully, causing him to laugh, “I’m only joking!”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, sure.”

Moving on to the next painting, he follows after you, “What else did your book tell you?”

“Well, it told me about your love for the arts.” You remember the extensive biography you’d found during your research. You didn’t read it in its entirety, but you did skim through it, “I read that you would host a festival every year?”

“Yes! Just something special during the summer seasons to enlighten everyone.” He has a far away look in his eye as he recalls the fond memories of his past life, and you can only begin to wonder what a day in his life would have been like, “I’d import goods from everywhere just to have the best for my people.”

“It would seem you’re truly generous, your majesty~” You tease.

“Namjoon.” He corrects you. You give him a quizzical stare and he only smiles in return, “If I’m to call you by your more common title, then you should feel free to use mine. I am attempting to woo you after all.”

“Right.” You smile awkwardly, remembering that you were actually trying to give him a chance. You’d actually been comfortable for once, that you hadn’t even noticed just how easy it had become to talk to him.

“And to really answer your question of why I am as calm as I am,” He pauses in front of a portrait of a town under the night sky, his attention trained on the light orb in the background of the painting. “The moon goddess is lonely herself by nature, so separated from our world. Just like this portrait, we see her, but we pay her no mind.”

You stand beside him and take your own, clear look at the picture. If you would have looked at it on your own, your main focus would have been on the town and the people in the foreground. You would have glanced at the moon, but the orb and her stars were painted so faint compared to the rest of the picture.

“She came to me - and perhaps it was out of boredom for her own happiness - but she made me a promise. Promises are something I don’t take lightly.” He says. His words are spoken like a true king, but you can’t help but wonder if he himself truly means what he says.

Namjoon turns to you with a peaceful smile, “Fate works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it’s best for us to wait and see what it brings.”

He’s ready to move on and you both bask in a new found silence as you continue to walk through the exhibit, stopping occasionally at a portrait here and there. Though at every painting you stop, you can’t help but look at the man next to you.

This was the man described in everything you read. This was King Kim Namjoon at his finest, and you were privileged enough to be there.

“Did you really house orphaned children?” You ask out of the blue.

He blinks at first, registering your sudden outburst. Though, when he does realize what you’ve asked, he smiles fondly, “I did. Of all the people we should take care of, our children and our elderly are most important!”

His words are filled with passion, and you can tell he really cares about the people he’s talking about, “Our elders have shaped our generation, and we shape the generations after us. It’s only fair that we see they’re well taken care of.”

There’s a part of you that truly wishes to see what he was like as a ruler for yourself. You smile, “Well, I guess the internet doesn’t lie.”

“I suppose it doesn’t, though I’m probably not the correct person to ask.” He sheepishly admits, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

You nod in understanding. He really didn’t know much about this era or it’s advancements besides the kiosks in his exhibit. It takes you a moment, but you think of the perfect exhibit to introduce him to the 21st century.

You take his hand in yours - effectively catching him off guard - and you pull him in the direction of the exit, “Well, allow me to educate you about the world I live in.”

Namjoon doesn’t even attempt to hide his blush this time around. He only nods and allows himself to follow you, “Please.”

You lead him out of the more classic featured art section and into the Modern Art Exhibit. This exhibit starts very tame, sticking to photography and modern painting styles before it morphs into free form art sculptures in the connecting rooms.

One sculpture is made of metal and it’s shape reminds you of a round mushroom. It's definitely interesting, but you don’t necessarily understand it’s appeal. It would seem Namjoon is confused as well.

“This is art?” He asks, his head tilted to the side as he follows his distorted reflection.

“It is.” You assure him. You had a feeling he wouldn’t get it either, you just wanted to show him what he was missing. You sigh, “I don’t really understand it either so don’t fe-”

“It’s so intriguing.” Namjoon says, cutting you off.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, slightly confused.

“The structure and the colors, they’re so complimentary to the other! I don’t want to look away.” His entire being is completely enraptured with the piece in front of him. It’s so simple, yet his eye contact doesn’t break from his reflection. “I feel as though I am in a trance.”

You squeeze his hand - not even caring that your hands are still connected, “Well, there’s much more of this to see.”

A look of pure joy and elation blossoms on Namjoon’s face and you feel a faint flutter in your heart. You’d never noticed how bright his eyes shine until now, nor did you notice just how cute his dimples really were.

Are you really falling for him?

~ Read: Part 2 ~

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ecclais-fouoras · 4 years

Text

SOFTER ON THE INSIDE

Ch1

Warning ⚠️ mention of self harm and scoliosis (a bit of blood)

Wilhelmina venable was a women everyone feared. She held the outpost with her strict rules and her iron fist.

Everybody was sitting at the dinner table eating their cubes.

Everyone feared her except for you, venable was interesting and honestly very attractive.

Gallant started complaining about the food as always followed by coco and you could again feel venable get annoyed at this.

"Come on you can't keep serving us this shit !"

"He's right ! I'm starving and you give us that crap !"

"Stop it coco She's not our enemy for God sakes ! Eat your cube damn ! Your alive !!! You are actually ALIVE when the rest of the world is rather dead or dying. So stop being the ungrateful spoiled bitch you always were and try to at least learn something new for once like how to be a better human being !"

She stood up from her chair and tapped her cane on the ground before she could protest you mumbled "sorry miss venable"

As you sat back on your chair.

"Miss vanderbilt, mrs gallant sit down and eat those damn cubes before I think about punishing you both"

They got back on their seats and ate in silence.

After dinner you went to the Library for a bit before going to bed.

You were drawing on some handmade paper with charcoal and you heard ths soft thud of Venable's cane on the floor.

You immediately pulled down the burned material and cleaned up your hands on your dress.

Your long purple dress was now a bit dirty and you couldn't help but feel like a dear cought in headlights.

"What are you doing in here miss y/l/n

And why are your clothes dirty"

"I'm sorry miss venable i was just drawing in hear and since I don't have any material i had to be a little creative but it turned out to be quite messy"

You said softly.

"Well i suppose you are allowed to draw but you will clean up after your mess"

"Yes of course i will, is there any particular reason why you came here?"

"Can't i just enjoy a little reading in the library"

"Oh..of course i just...well of course you can"

"That's awfully nice of you miss"

She said in a sarcastic tone.

She sat down on the couch and you went back to drawing. She noticed a jar field with red liquid that you seemed to be using as paint with a brush made out of hair and wood. She really admired your inventivity, and how you came up with solution to everything.

"What is that ?" She asked pointing the pot and you got really nervous suddenly.

"...what do you mean?"

"What is the red liquid and where does it comes from ?" She asked in a strict tone

"...it's... blood"

"WHAT !" She was shocked and kind of disappointed you had always been her favorite and now this !

"Wait I CAN EXPLAIN !" You said your voice filled with urgency.

"Of course you will, i expect yo..."

"It's mine !" Before she could finish her sentence you cut her off.

"I'm sorry what ?"

"It's mine, the blood in the cup. I didn't have any paint, and i couldn't get anything to make pigment powder. Since I only have black and grey i figured that red would be more interesting and put some egg yolk and blood in a jar." She was confused.

"Is this your period blood?"

"No it's blood, blood"

"Where did you get it then"

"...well...i just had to make a small incision on my ankle"

"....and why on your ankle miss y/L/n ?"

"Well it's the place that bleeds the most with the littlest pain, and it's also easier to clean and hide..."

"And How Would you know that"

There was a longer pause between you two.

"I expect an answer y/n"

"... I...I just do"

"Try harder, I am not buying it "

"I...I used to self harm...I just...now i know how it bleeds and how much does it hurts"

"..i had no idea I'm sorry"

"It's fine I'm okay now, it took me the apocalypse but i figured if the world is ending with us i should try to stay clean"

"Can I see your drawing ?"

"Yes sure bit i thought you were trying to read ?"

"Yes i wanted to but the couch is uncomfortable"

"Yes that's why I sit here it's better...here have a seat"

You said as you patted the place next to you.

"Here ?"

"Yes, well of you want to of course."

"I do"

There was something in the air between you two and you could feel it.

"When did you start this ? It looks really good, were you an artist before ?"

"Yesterday, and well not as a job but I did practice a lot"

"Anyways you have a lot of talent."

"Thank you, do you want to draw too? I can give you one of the paper sheets i made"

"No thank you"

"Okay"

You two sat there for a few hours until it was time to go back to your rooms, you offered to take her and she kindly accepted. As you were before the door she read a message that was on the door

"I can't help you tonight i had to go and clean something "

"Shit" she cursed behind her breath

"What was that ?" You asked softly "is everything okay ?"

"Yes" she replied coldly, it was odd especially since she had been sweet to you the whole time.

"I can tell there is something wrong, can I help ? You do so much for us, i just want to give you a hand in return"

She didn't say anything as she was considering letting you in, after all you had been nice all along, she could try and trust you. Could she ?

"You can trust me you know. Whatever it is i won't tell them"

She opened her door slightly and pulled you in. Suddenly her stance had changed, she was more tired, more vulnerable, and cute? Yes definitely she looked so sweet.

"..well..this is embarrassing, i"

"Don't be embarrassed around me miss venable, everyone needs a little help every once in awhile, it's also nice to see you like this"

"What do you mean like this ?"

"Well I mean without anyone else to bother us, and you know...like you're normal self"

"I'm not normal y/l/n"

"Please call me y/n, and You are... I mean normal as in being yourself... without trying to scare everyone"

She giggled softly and a smile crept up your face.

"See just like this"

You both stared at each other before you could ask her what she needed help with.

"So you need me for something ?"

".. yes..you see usually miss mead helps me change since I can't pull the zipper of my dresses in my... condition"

"Sure okay...so just turn around and I'll unzip you" you began to make her spin but she stopped you

"Wait..you need to know...i have scoliosis...it looks disgusting.."

"Do you want me to close my eyes if it'd make you more comfortable ? The last thing I want is to hurt you by trying to help. But know that I won't judge you, especially if it's about a physical appearance you can't help with. You know our bodies is what keeps us alive, i spent all my life trying to destroy mine in everyway possible because the feeling of being inside of it was to unbearable. But it turns out my body is what makes me feel, smile, laugh, smell and love. I would not be there if she wasn't. So i had to learn to be kinder to myself"

Her eyes were watery as she took your words in. It was so out of character for her, she always seemed to have everything together but in reality she was a big softy struggling with self image.

"Oh no please don't cry, i don't want to see you be sad." You said as you held her cheek, it was a bold move but she didn't seem to be mad about it.

You decided to stay in front of her to unzip her, and reach behind her to find the hell of her dress.

She flinched lighltly as you dragged it down her spine, and she didn't have time to catch her dress as it fell at her feet. She wore this purple lingerie gown underneath and you couldn't help but stare at her body.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. Leave now please"

"Don't be sorry it's fine, here" you picked her dress up and covered her with it.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of Wilhelmina, you are breathtakingly beautiful"

You left as you pecked her cheek and smiled at her while she looked at you stunned and blushing.

God what were you doing to her ?

#wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson fanfiction #wilhelmina venable

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numptypylon · 4 years

Text

Drawn Out, 3rd: Face Paint

“I want you to bring your own energy to the role,” Gren said, stepping onto the stage, positivity personified. “Rayla, you’re the fairy queen, but I know you can do those cool jumping kicks, so if you’re feeling a warrior queen kind of vibe, that’s cool! Shakespeare can be cool-”

“An assassin!” Rayla squealed, looking more excited than she had all day. “You said she could turn invisible! I could be the best assassin fairy ever! She turns invisible under the light of the full moon!” Rayla stood up, looking dramatically into the distance. “-and there’s a kinda… ‘ting’ and then-”

“I love it!” Gren said, although even his perpetual encouragement seemed to snag on the idea of an 8-and-5/6ths-year-old assassin on stage in front of lots of fussy parents. “A… nice assassin though? Right? Too sweet to… you know-”

Rayla looked slightly disappointed that there would be no on-stage killing sprees, but nodded, looking thoughtful. “Okay. Titania is a good assassin. She was bound to murder the duke, but she refused, and they’re friends now.”

“Warrior bros!!!” Soren hollered, giving Rayla a side-hug that lifted her off the ground, and rather breaking character as the esteemed Duke Theseus of Athens.

Although since he was now named, Duke “The Swoosh” anyway (because Gren thought it would be… totally radical and the kids would love it, and also, Soren had butchered pronouncing his own character’s name so many times Gren had just rolled with it) and Soren also had a ‘shirtless and flexing, 100% of the time’ interpretation of what Ancient Greece was like, Callum thought authenticity was probably dying in a ditch with the victims of the fairy assassins.

“And you didn’t even want to be in the play,” Callum laughed. “Now look at you, getting into fairy-assassin character.” He was sure glad he had been drafted for prop making rather than anything where he would have to be up there.

“You try saying no to Gren,” Rayla defended, adjusting her horns, as Soren left to ‘improve morale’ among the stage crew. “He’s so… happy. It feels wrong.”

“I know, I spent all weekend making paper mâché horns, I very obviously can’t say no to Gren, either.”

Rayla pretty much already looked like an elf or a fairy on a normal day, it shouldn’t be a surprise that she actually looked nice with plastic ivy in her hair and paper mâché horns.

So did Claudia, who was sitting down with them, but it was just a slightly different vibe, with those horns, on her. Like… fairy-chaos-demon. It fit her character, she really leaned into the chaotic, for Puck.

“Gren’s a witch,” Claudia said in explanation, very certain. “He sacrificed his hair for his powers, it’s an illusion now, that’s why it’s so red. He’s obviously evil inside, or he would tell me how to become a witch and not keep it to himself! I asked him, like… a lot-”

“You didn’t want to be in the play either?” Callum was surprised at that, Claudia seemed to be made for the stage, he didn’t think she had ever felt embarrassed in her whole life.

“Nope,” Claudia said firmly. “Wanted to do lights. I would have gotten to just shoot magic beams in Soren’s face all night. Like a witch.”

“Yeah! Like a lightning wizard! Pew-pew!” That did sound fun, Callum hadn’t thought of spotlight operator duty like that.

“’Pew-pew?! Are you crazy?!” Claudia looked so intense that Callum backed away a bit. “Obviously, it’s more like ‘whoom-sssssss’! Like a corrupted sunbeam that can set fire to people! Fire is the second-best magic. Only dark powers are cooler.”

Claudia walked away to sit a little way away, looking disgusted with his choice in magic powers. She was handling her own face paint, anyway, because she had very definite ideas about her look that involved a lot of black.

Rayla was less confident, and had brought the palette of face paint over, and was decisively handing it to him. “You’re the best drawer here,” Rayla said, which definitely wasn’t the case, because he was only almost-8, and there was an 7th grade girl here who had painted the backdrop for the stage much nicer than he could have, but Rayla had said it like she was daring him to defy it.

And she trusted him to make her look like an awesome assassin fairy before she was going up on that stage in front of everyone, even her parents who were back from Iraq for a bit.

She looked a bit bashful, when she positioned herself opposite him, and he didn’t get why until he did.

It was weird, because he didn’t do a lot of looking at her face, normally. Of course, he did, but not like this, looking at it… deliberately. It was usually more like a backdrop, something that was just kinda there and he was used to.

But now, her face was really close, and he had to really look at it, to see where the paint should go. And he was seeing all kinds of things he didn’t usually think about, like the little line of paler skin half-covered by her hair from that failed monkey bar stunt the day they met, and the tiny freckles across her nose and her big, blue-grey eyes that looked almost purple in the stage lights.

She closed her eyes, and it made it easier but also… not, that she wasn’t looking back at him anymore.

Rayla sat very still, which was extremely unusual for her, as he painted blue swooshes under her eyes and then little dots because the swooshes were too quickly finished and… he had never painted anyone’s face before and he wanted to keep going because…

It was… fun…?

No, ‘fun’ wasn’t the right word but… but whatever it was, he didn’t want it to be over in a… swoosh.

“Swoosh!” Soren’s extremely loud voice startled him out of the weird painty-trance.

“Not even ‘The Swoosh’, anymore?” Rayla asked, laughing, as she opened her eyes and broke the spell for good.

“Just ‘Swoosh’, is cleaner,” Soren said confidently. “Call me Swoosh, Duke of the Ancient Sheets.” He patted his sheet that was supposed to be a toga-thing, but it looked more like a loincloth, the way Soren had tied it “Gren approved it.”

Of course he did. Gren approved everything.

“Uh, Rayla?” Callum asked. “You wanna… get a mirror? The play’s about to start, and-“

But she shook her head, her smile pulling at the blue swooshes. “I trust you.”

———

Second installment of the tumblr drabble (this one got long though, because I wanted both Soren and Claudia in there) series, Drawn Out, following Callum’s drawings for Rayla in various mediums through grades 2nd through 7th. It’s set in the rayllum 90s grade school AU verse In the Middle which you can read more of on Ao3

#the dragon prince #rayllum #tdp #rayla #callum #numpty art tag #numpty fic tag #fanfiction #in the middle #drawn out

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Text

Bad to Work With

Ch 2: Late Nights and Morning Coffee

Richard didn’t ever do this kind of thing, he didn’t like clubs. Connor and Silas constantly badgered him about needing to unwinds and it took them weeks to wear him down to the point that he agreed to join them. Eden was Connor’s club of choice, he had a few friends that worked there so they got in for free. It was better than the one Silas frequented, so they found themselves headed there. He spent most of his time at their table nursing his drink as his brothers danced under the strobing lights. Richard wasn’t particularly fond of people or crowds so he only observed the dancefloor for the time being. He had no intention of joining them and would have rather been at home than anything else. He enjoyed people watching enough that if it weren’t for the pounding music he might have considered it relaxing. Richard eventually found himself focused on a particular person toward the edge of the crowd. He wasn’t dressed up to the same standard as the people around him, but he still looked good. He had a vintage leather jacket on over a loose t-shirt that had a design on it that Richard couldn’t make out from that distance, black skinny jeans that reflected in the lights in a way not all that uncommon of faux leather. His hair was a mess and there was something about him that seemed vaguely familiar. The thing that held Richard’s attention though was the way he moved.

Richard couldn’t say what it was that always brought his eyes back to that man. He gradually went from people watching to just staring at this one person. The way he moved was like the music was a part of him. All of the songs sounded the same to Richard, but the way the man moved changed with the music and he found himself captivated. He hadn’t even noticed when Silas came back to the table. “You’re being a bit of a creep Nines.” Silas’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, if they could be called that, and he turned to face his brother, “Go dance with him. Or at least blink. If you go out there you might get to the point of actually undressing him instead of just doing it with your eyes.” Richard shook his head, “I don’t know how. What the rules are in this place, if there are any at all. Do I ask or just go up to him? How would I even get through so many people?” Silas rolled his eyes and gestured toward Richard’s whiskey. “Drink. Get a little more liquid courage in your system and you’ll figure it out.” He remarked and put in for another round of drinks through the tablet that was on the table, “You have a way about you that parts crowds so you won’t have to worry about that at least. Plus the whole quiet, tall, and brooding thing really does it for some people. You’ll be fine, you’ve just got to relax a little more first.”

Richard narrowed his eyes, “I’m going to pretend that was a compliment.” “Look. All I’m saying is dance with the guy. It will do you some good.” Silas said flatly, “Getting laid might do you some good. I don’t think even you could be grumpy after a good fuck.” Richard flipped him off and started on the whiskey that the waiter had brought to the table. Silas downed the shot he had ordered and once more vanished into the crowd. Richard continued to watch the stranger and debated joining him on the dancefloor. Looking back he wasn’t sure if it was the third drink, the fourth, or the wink from the stranger that brought him to the dancefloor. To the stranger. Gavin, he said his name was, that was familiar, but he couldn’t place from where or why. Gavin had beautiful eyes. A grey, amber laced green; not too unlike the ocean before a storm. Richard wasn’t usually prone to such romantic thoughts, but as he moved in tandem with Gavin he found that he couldn’t shake it. The thoughts came easy and they stuck around. Normally it took time for Richard to feel like this, but tonight it came easy. He could blame it on the alcohol and the atmosphere. On the way Gavin moved even. He didn’t know the reason, he didn’t need to. He was relaxed and enjoying himself.

He didn’t know how long they danced for, but he did have the sense to text his brothers before he grabbed his things and left with Gavin. They chose to go back to Richard’s place and the rest of the cab ride was a blur of getting rather familiar with one another. They left a trail of clothes through his apartment, which in any other situation would have bothered him, but his attention was rather pleasantly occupied. Being with Gavin was easy, natural almost. They both seemed to want the same thing out of their night. It seemed that Silas was right, tall and brooding seemed to be exactly Gavin’s thing. He seemed to like to have Richard in his personal space, and Richard liked being there. He hadn’t expected Gavin to stay, he didn’t seem the type. In the morning though, Gavin was still there. They spent more of the morning than they should have getting rather reacquainted. Gavin left in a rush after, apparently he had looked at the clock and realized he was running late. Richard offered him a shower and clothes if he needed them, but Gavin had declined almost sharply. Richard let him go and got ready himself since he was also running late. The last thing he had expected was to catch Gavin in the elevator when he got to work.

That was going to be a problem, but it made sense in why Gavin had seemed so familiar. He wasn’t in accounting, so that meant he was IT or marketing. So if this got out he was either going to get congratulated by Silas or a stern word of caution from Connor. That was an issue for down the road though. “Good morning Gavin.” He said pleasantly when he got into the elevator, “If I had known we were both headed to the same place, I would have offered you a ride.” Gavin scoffed and the sound was somewhere between annoyance and amusement, “You were hardly inclined to let me out of bed when I told you I had work, so forgive me if I doubt that.” Richard found himself amused and leaned in a little closer, and for a moment Gavin did the same. Richard didn’t think he noticed, “I certainly didn’t hear you complaining this morning.” “Well I’m complaining now.” Gavin said as he came back to himself and stepped away, “Since you couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself I have to suffer through breakroom coffee.” “How tragic.” Richard quipped before he could stop himself, “Come with me again and I’ll make you coffee in the morning. However you like it.”

There was a moment of pause, and Gavin’s eyes softened for only a second before the mask was firmly back in place. “No.” He said almost under his breath, then with a little more conviction, “I don’t do that sort of thing.” The elevator chimed, and before Richard could say anything, Gavin ducked passed him out into the business office. Richard turned to watch him go, at the very least he knew where Gavin worked. The elevator doors closed slowly. He wondered what he had done to upset Gavin. Or if he was just naturally this prickly in the morning. He would get Gavin a coffee when he got the time. To make up for making him late, it was the least he could do. He stepped out of the elevator when it was on his floor. He told Daniel, the morning intern what he would need to do for the day, and settled in his office. After he sent his brothers a text that he would not be going to ‘unwind’ with them again, he got to work. While his job was complex, it was routine and rather mind numbing. So he thought about the previous night a lot. His mind circled back to it frequently despite his best efforts to concentrate on his work. Silas was needing to buy another computer for the business office GR0108 had broken another one apparently. It was only when his body took to harshly reminding him that he hadn’t had time for breakfast that morning. He decided to go pick something up and then get back to Silas.

He left his office and made his way to the bank of elevators. There was a cade not too far from AME where he usually stopped to get breakfast. They had good food and tea. The place usually smelled like coffee so he figured he could pick Gavin up one while he was there. Hopefully that would make up for him having such a bad morning at Richard’s expense. When he got to the cafe he ordered his usual; a cranberry citrus scone and Earl Grey tea. He picked a random coffee drink off the menu for Gavin then paid. When everything was ready he made his way back to the office. Gavin’s desk was easy enough to find, there were papers and foam coffee cups everywhere. He set the cup on a clear space on the desk and left a note before he left. Breakfast had, he gave Silas permission for another computer. The third one for this user in as many months, and though annoying, it wasn’t really his problem. He just needed to get through the rest of the day without thinking about Gavin too much. It was easier said than done since his unique green eyes chose to haunt Richard. They had been so different last night than this morning. He wondered which was the real Gavin.

In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness he had left his number on the note. He shouldn’t have been as disappointed as he was that Gavin hadn’t texted him yet. He had made it clear that he wasn’t interested anymore, if he even had been at all. It stung, but Richard supposed he would get over it eventually. People didn’t go to places like that to find love. It wasn’t Gavin’s fault that Richard had been so sentimental.

#A Guide to Bad Business Practices #A Guide to Bad Business Practices AU #AGBBP #Bad to Work With #BWW #reed900 #gavin reed #dbh nines #dbh fic #dbh

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Mismatch- Part 17

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

“Push me off the roof you coward!”

First< Previous > Next

------

“So do you want to be Batman or should I?” Marion brings out the two outfits identical in every way except size.

“It’s not actually dressing up,” Marinette scolds fixing her hair.

“Well then you single handedly ruined halloween,” Marion grins coming up behind her, “Everyone wears them for it,”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Marinette watches him warily in the mirror, prepared to defend if-when he makes a move to mess up her hair.

“So Batman or Robin?” Marion holds the outfits up, dangerous close to her head.

“I don’t care,” Marinette stands up, spinning around, using the chair as a shield.

“Coin flip then,” Marion drapes them over the chair, “Oooh foreshadowing!”

“Please tell me you're going to take this marginally seriously?” Marinette leans back on the dresser as he fishes for a coin.

“You’re starting to sound like our manager,” Marion flips the coin with extra flare, “Heads,”

“You should thank Kate for setting this up,” Marinette catches the coin before he can, “Tails,”

She takes the Robin outfit from the chair, ducking Marion as she passes.

“You know I don’t think Kate wants to see me,” Marion takes his outfit behind the opposite curtain, “She's pretty stressed something will go wrong,”

“In Gotham?” Marinette pokes her head out the curtain on the other side of the room.

“I know, crazy right,” Marion also peaks through the curtain, “Where would she get that idea?”

“Who knows?” Marinette cheekily grins before ducking back behind the curtain.

“If we get attacked again I think we might give aunt- I mean,” Marion pauses pulling on his grey turtleneck, “ugh, this is hard,”

“Mari, the outfits are designed for easy use,” Marinette teases, tone sounding half hearted even from this distance.

“What are you calling her in your head?” Marion pulls the turtle neck down all the way.

“Selina,” Marinette answers, as he shrugs on his hooded crop top over the turtleneck, split into two colours to make a vague bat-shape. “Although I just avoid saying it out loud,”

“Great minds think alike,” Marion pulls on his grey leggings, that Marinette had thankfully made into thermals.

“I’m the only great mind here,” Marinette teases, Marion lets out fake gasp as he pulls a pair of shorts over his leggings, “You just like to copy,”

“How dare you!” Marion pulls the curtains aside dramatically, Marinette doesn't even look up from where she's putting on bracelets, “Dishonour! Dishonour on you, Dishonour on your kwami! Dis-”

“Hey!” Tikki flies out of the backpack.

“Sorry Tikki,” Marion looks away from the fuming Kwami, trying to avoid her by pulling on his black and blue boots.

“It’s ok Tikki,” Marinette finishes putting green and gold bracelets up to her elbows, “He’s just trying to be funny,”

“And succeeding!” Marion corrects, smoothing a mask over his eyes.

“Ah-ha,” Marinette stands, black and yellow scarf flaring out at the back.

“You know I don’t think she agrees,” Marion stage whispers to Plagg from his bag.

“Ah-ha,” Plagg says in the same tone, as Marion is pulling on his black gloves.

“Traitors, all of you,”

“Hey look,” Marinette bumps his shoulder, nodding towards someone.

“It’s Jason,” Marion whispers back excitedly, moving to wave.

“MCD doesn't know him,” Marinette grabs his arm, “Let’s hope this isn’t as awkward as it was with Chloe,”

“I thought that was fun,”

“Of course you did,”

"Hi," Jason approaches nervously, completely different to how Marion's met him before, it's cute.

"Oh hello, stranger," Marion grins, ignoring the kick from Marinette, he'll be careful, it's fine he's got this, "Whats your name?"

"Jason," Oh my God he's blushing!

"Jasin," Marion repeats pretending to write on what he was handed.

"Um…." Jason looks like he's about to correct Marion, this will be perfect- "yep,"

Fuck fuck fuck i though he would correct me fuck, Marinette help! Marinette rolls her eyes at his pleading look.

"Jason, CD," Pointing to the page without writing, "son,"

"Ohhhh Jason,” Marion says, as if he had come to some amazing realisation, Marinette looks like she wants to slap him, “haha, sorry, of course, I just didn’t hear you right, because I don’t know your name, why would I know your name? It's-"

Marinette rightfully cuts off his rambling with a swift kick, that both knew would never actually hurt him. At least Jason looks just as embarrassed as him, neither quite knowing how to start the conversation back up,"

"How about we take a picture?" Marinette says, their saving grace.

"Yeah, that would be great," Jason fumbles for his phone, Marion hopes his mask will cover his blush, as he remembers what Jason had said about him at dinner, the only reason he was blushing.

They take a nice picture together. Then one where Marion throws bunny ears behind MDC. She swats his hand away and he pushes her out of frame. The next picture is one of him and Jason with Marinette rising up, like a threatening blur in the background.

"Aw thats a nice picture" Marion looks over Jason shoulder, they were meant to be with the next person already but they were a design hopeful, babbling to MDC about her designs, "You should send it to me,"

"Of course," Jason seems flustered with his proximity, enough so that he didn't see Marion's trap.

"Great heres my number," Marion quickly writes it down on blank piece of paper, a picture seeming a bit too narcissistic at that point.

"...Waut,"

"Well you have to send it to me someway," Marion shrugs, conveniently ignori-forgetting that pictures were sent through his social media all the time.

"Right... right," Jason seems to be in a bit of a daze when Marion sends him off, standing next to Marinette as the fan leaves.

They watch Jason leave. Marinette starts giggling when he almost runs into a wall.

“Are you ok?" Marion asks, partly for the security guard who was waiting for their ok to send the next person up.

“You are such a dork,” She breaths through her upcoming laughter, “I think I need a minute,”

“Fine but if I get a hopeful fashion designer I’m telling them your new direction is crocs,” Marion huffs, not really insulted, but if he didn't act it she would only up the anti.

“Do it and your casket will be made out of crocs,” Marinette threatens ineffectively, walking to the backstage door.

“I kinda want to see that,”

“You’d be dead,” Marinette calls from the door.

“Minor issue,”

Marinette waves him off, which could have been an aborted swat. He watches as the crowd nearby begin whispering, some offering others to go first to stall for time. Marion plans to shove this in her face next time Marinette claims she isn’t popular. He’s about to take a camera out for evidence when one of the groups, fast tracked but the crowd, approaches.

Marion goes to do his more basic greetings when a gun is shoved in his face. The group made up of armed men surrounding him, one holding a camera.

“Smile for the camera,” The figure pulls his coat back, revealing the frankly disturbing face of the Joker.

“Oh it’s you,” Marion keeps a blank face, evidently confusing him, “Any chance two-face will show up?”

“.... No?” Marion fights to keep his composure as the crowd are threatened by the remaining thugs, pushing them to the ground.

“Pity, what a waste of good foreshadowing,” Marion shrugs casually, that camera is probably filming.

“What,” Marion supposes its a rare thing to see the Joker taken aback, but watching a group of armed men storm backstage distracts him from the sight.

“Nothing, I just made a brilliant joke earlier and you're sort of ruining it,” Marion makes exaggerated gestures, testing his limits, the guns follow him but don’t shoot. “Anyway are you here for an autograph or what?”

“I’m not-” He watches the Joker's face twist in gruesome realisation, “you’re trying to stall me,”

“Stall you from what?” Marion tries not to make his scan of the crowd obvious, “Please go in depth,”

“How about on the way up to the roof?” Chilling smile, but Marion is too used to fear to let it get to him.

“Oh goodie, I hear it has wonderful views,” Marion claps his hands, probably getting weird looks from the goons hiding behind masks, but who are they to judge?

He’s guided to the elevator. The Joker making the mistake of not tying his hands, or gagging him. He feels Kaalki and Plagg tense in his pocket.

“Huh, no elevator music,” Marion observes as the elevator starts to rise, “I just kind of expected it at this point,”

“You are strange,” Marion makes the mistake of glancing over, the Joker does not seem perturbed by that fact.

“You’re telling me that?” Marion tilts his head, “Actually that's quite the achievement,”

The Joker starts to go on about his plan, something about throwing MCD off the roof in front of the crowd for whatever reason, he’s not really listening. No, instead he’s made his own plan. There's no way Marinette was caught, not when she has no one to look after. She must be somewhere in the building, probably as Sparrow. It’s best if Sparrow and Songbird are seen near their other identities as little as possible, so he had to deal with the camera. If she saw the footage, which was probably being broadcast (a brilliant idea, really, no problems with that) she would intercept them. The best position would be on the elevator, but he had to buy time.

The cameras closest so he strikes, hitting it out of the goons hand, mid sentence. In the split second confusion he hits the number panel, lighting up all but a few.

“Huh, that was easy,” Marion says with genuine surprise.

“And here I thought you were being a good hostage,” Marion feels several guns press against him, but it’s only the pistol with the Joker at the end that worries him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Marion smirks cockily, the threats turning more violent.

No, not threats, promises. Marion debates calling on Kaalki, while he’s still able too. It wouldn’t be great for a miraculous to be seen in a different country, but better than the one that can teleport than Ladybug. If Marinette couldn’t stop them in time she would surely turn to Ladybug and pick him up as he falls, right in front of the crowd and cameras. Not great.

There were other heroes in Gotham, they both knew. And if it was just him at stake he would put faith in them. But it’s not. He’s Chat Noir and there's not enough time to train a new Black Cat, not anymore.

The elevator finally reaches the top. Marion braces to help Marinette fight on the other side of the door. It opens. There’s no one. Great, great, great .

“Well, well, well why don’t we see what's behind that mask and carve up your pretty face, hm?” Joker leads him close enough to the edge of the building that anyone else should be scared.

“That sounds counter productive,” Might as well try plan b, he should have come up with one, but as is he’ll have to wing it, “Weren’t you going to throw me off the roof?”

“Eager aren't you?” Not really “After, promise,”

That grin paired with the knife inching closer should scare him, but honestly the only thing that truly scares him anymore is someone going for his ring, or Ladybug’s.

“What's the point? I’d be dead soon anyway, sounds like a waste of time,” Marion debates adding a yawn to match the tone, but it seems like overkill.

“A few screams are never a waste of time,” Marion is backed up further to the edge of the roof, able to see the fretting crowd below.

“Sounds to me like you just don’t have any confidence,” Marion says with all the sass he can muster, which is a lot.

“Oh, do explain,” The knife inching closer to the edge of his mask encourages the opposite, but he was never much good with warnings.

“If you really believe your plan will work and I wouldn’t be saved by I-don’t-know, Batman?” Yep that strikes a cord, probably not the best cord to strike with a knife in your face, oh well his wounds will heal soon anyway, “Then you’d throw me over the roof, a few cuts doesn't matter much when your dead,”

He can see the gears turning, debating if there's merit to his bullshit or if it’s just that. Honestly Marion doesn't know either.

“Revealing my identity and stuff is just a way for you to feel like you’ve won when Batman beats you,” He carefully doesn't emphasise the ‘when’, making it sound casual, like a given fact, “Cutting my face is just admitting you think the heroes will win,”

Just a little bit more. He’s almost pulled off plan ‘b’ for bat-shit crazy. He has the horse miraculous in his grip, Kaalki won’t like it but it's hard to put glasses on in mid air.

“Besides, won’t the mask leave a bit more impact?”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

“You really think the Bats going to save you huh?” The grin is unnerving, so Marion matches it with one of his own.

“I do,” He challenges, chin tilted up, “do you,”

He hears a cackle that would have surely appeared in his fear toxin dream if he heard it before. He’s pushed, vest twisted in the jokers grip, trying to stay balanced on the very edge.

“I like you kid,” And yeah, by that smile it’s not a good thing.

“Goodie,” Marion says sardonically, ignoring the shouting below, probably because his torso is all the way off the edge.

“Make sure to scream,” He feels the grip loosen, not having the natural response to grab onto something.

“I won’t,” he sends one last smirk as he’s dropped, weight sending him off balance and off the edge.

He’s in free fall and knows the screaming is not his own. He’s too busy debating the right time to transform. The street is getting closer and closer, no staff or grappling hook to save him.

“Klakki!-”

The air gets knocked out of him at the sudden change in directions. He can feel the arm and hears the glass shattering. For all the speed of a few seconds ago he is not expecting the quiet that follows. He’s leaning forward against someone's chest, both crouched down inside the building he just fell from. He recognises the shade of red first, Marinette had spent weeks with it pinned up all over their room and Marion has been wearing it ever since. He relaxes.

“Are you ok?” He gets pulled back from the chest, his complaints are cut off, a gloved hand tracing over his cheek, he feels the sting so it must be cut.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Probably not convincing, since his crush is the closest he’s ever been and Marion is almost the same shade of red.

“You’re fine?” The disbelief is clear and it takes Marion a second to realise why.

“I mean… Oh no! Trauma!” Marion tries to fall dramatically but the arm still on his back catches him.

“Good thing you’re a popstar not an actor,” Marion feels relief at the stiff atmosphere relaxing.

“Excuse you,” He snaps back up, poking Red Hood’s chest, smirking, “I’d make a wonderful actor,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Red Hood looks away, as far as Marion can tell with the helmet, “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, are you?” Marion stresses, remembering that he broke through the glass.

“... what?” Red Hood's full attention comes back to him.

“Are you ok?” Marion tries not to get annoyed at the answer, humour then, “After all breaking through a window isn’t much fun,”

You idiot you can't use his line on him ! Not in different identities! What if he figures it out?!

“Yeah.. yeah," He looks away again, "I’m… great,”

Marion smiles, guess things did turn out great in the end.

“CD!” Marion jumps out his skin, both suddenly realising how they looked and stand, Marinette runs right up to him, “Are you ok!?”

“Yep I’m… great,” Marion exchanges a private glance with Red Hood as Marinette frets over him.

“Thank goodness,” She sighs, shoulders sagging, then coming back up to hit him over the head, “Then why are you such an idiot!”

“Natural talent?” Marion rubs the spot, she put some Ladybug strength in that one.

“At least you’re good at something,” She sighs, brushing her hand over the spot.

“Rude,” Marion pouts, even as his head feels better, and his cut is startling to close up.

“If every things ok then,” Red Hood says awkwardly, “I’ve got a clown to go beat up,”

I Forgot!! How do you forget that! Marion yells at himself When your crush saves you from falling to your death…. Less romantic than it seemed in the moment.

“Have fun….” Marion waves, increasing the awkwardness ten fold, “dear god, I am an idiot!”

He groans into Marinette's shoulder after Red Hood left.

“Yes, but blush later, we need to be ready to provide backup,” Marinette pulls him out of the room stepping over broken glass.

“Uh- yeah! Right! lets go,” Marion snaps out of it, running after her.

“You are such a mess,” She insults as they jog, or with their speed, sprint up the stairs.

“Of all people you don’t get to call me that,” Marion needn't remind her of how she spilt orange juice all over herself at breakfast.

“... You just fell off a building, I was talking about your clothes,” Marinette has on her, ‘you’re an idiot’ face, well practiced that one.

“Oh,”

“But yeah you are a walking disaster,” She speeds up.

“Hey!” Marion sprints after her.

They reach the roof, not as out of breath as they should be.

“I thought I told you to stay put?” Red Hood snaps, alone on the roof.

“You didn’t,” They chorus coincidentally.

“I thought you had common sense,”

“We don’t,” They chorus on purpose.

Red Hood just shakes his head, probably smiling under the helmet.

“So the Joker escaped?” Marinette is the first to wipe the grin off her face.

“He was gone when I got up here,” Red Hood shrugs, “Waiting on intel,”

Probably from oracle.

“I didn’t say thank you!” Marion realises, not used to being the one saved.

“You don’t have to,” He looks away again, “Just doing my job,”

“But I want to,” Marion walks into his line of sight “So thank you,”

“Yeah well… thanks too I guess,” He looks away again and it's starting to get annoying.

“For what,” Marion leans over enough that he should be in sight, but he can't see his eye to confirm.

“I like the outfit you designed off me,” Marion freezes, almost stumbling over, “The interview was… entertaining,”

With that killing blow, a grappling hook is sent out and Red Hook is whisked away.

“.... Hey, can I borrow your miraculous?” Marion says blankly when Marinette comes to stand by him, “I need to wish myself out of existence real quick,”

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

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