#besides like. people dying things exploding. the usual

[uravily]

him <3 that is all

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Are your requests open? I would love to request a dad!carlos fic if you feel like it ❤️ also side note, I’m not a huge Max fan but your baby fever fic literally had me kicking my feet and giggling so well done

Picture of Perfection - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 9785>

If you were being honest with yourself, you shouldn't have been in work today. You had never felt worse, and it was really putting a damper on your performance. You had been Fred Vasseur's assistant since he had replaced Binotto at Ferrari, and your job was pretty easy.

You sorted his schedule and his emails into different sections. But today, you couldn't even muster the energy to respond to the numerous unimportant emails that Fred received on a daily basis. Your head was throbbing, you felt sick to your stomach, and you wished you could shrivel up into a ball and die.

As the phone rung, the shrill ringtone felt like a nail being tapped into your skull with every note, and you were sure your head was going to explode. Picking up the call wasn't at the top of your to do list, but if it stopped the ringing, then it was worth it.

"You're speaking to Y/N, how can I help?" you said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. As long as people didn't look at you, there was no way to tell that you felt like you were dying. "I think you're the one that needs help," a voice chuckled, and relief flooded you when you heard it.

"Did you call to talk to Fred, or to make fun of me, Carlos?" You asked your oh so sympathetic fiance. "We have our fun, but I was calling to check up on you. How are you feeling, querida?" he asked, his tone changing to a slightly more soft one.

"I'm fine, just a little rough. I'll bring your lunch down in a few," you said, checking the time on your computer. "You really don't sound fine," he pressed, but he had bigger things to focus on today. Him and Charles were testing out some upgrades on the car.

"I will be after lunch, I'm sure. Can you ask Charles if he wants anything as well?" You said, walking to the canteen. Carlos knew you wouldn't be fine, but he would wait to see you to make his final decisions about what he would do with you.

You heard some muffled voices through the phone, before Carlos said, "Yeah, get him the same as me, I'll see you in a minute," he said, putting the phone down. You trudged down to the canteen and picked up the food for the pair of them.

As you walked, people cast dubious glances in your direction. You knew you felt awful, but it was apparent that you weren't looking great either. You kept your head held as high as you could as you wandered down to the garage, and found Carlos and Charles sat by their cars as the mechanics adjusted some things.

"Lunch is served," you smiled, painting on your best poker face. But, there were cracks running through from the start, and Carlos saw straight through it. They both thanked you as you handed them their lunch, and you stepped to stand back beside Carlos.

"Come on, tell me what's wrong," Carlos said, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the cars and machines that the engineers and mechanics were running. "I promise, I'm OK," you reassured him. He knew that was a lie, and so did everyone around you.

Your skin was paler and your eyes looked sunken. You were also looking more dishevelled than normal, since you were usually quite bright and bouncy. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, then I can't help you," he said, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

His fingers slowly trailed up and down your spine as you stood next to him, and you felt a wave of nausea rush over you. The smell of the oil, the fuel and burning rubber caused your stomach to twist in knots, and you firmly gripped your hand onto Carlos' shoulder to steady yourself. You were slightly dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, hey, sit down for a second," he told you, standing up and gently pushing you towards the seat he had just vacated. Sitting down was arguably the last thing you needed right now. Your eyes darted around the garage, hunting something down that would be the best option to spill your guts into.

Nothing checked out.

Your last option was to sprint to the bathrooms at the back of the garage, and you came up with all of this in around a second. Your mind had never worked so fast. Within a blink of an eye, you had run all the way across the garage, hand firmly pressed against your mouth.

"Shit," you heard Carlos say behind you as his footsteps followed you closely. You barged through the ladies room and into the first open stall. Everything that you had eaten throughout the day exited your body in a violent wretch, and your throat was left burning and raw.

"You're OK, just let it out," Carlos said, rubbing your back and pulling your hair out of the way. You looked up at him, concern written all over his face. "You guys OK?" you heard Charles shout, confused at how fast everything had gone south.

"Could you pass me a water, please?" Carlos called back, going to the door to catch it. Throwing it might not have been the best idea, but it certainly was the quickest. He cracked it open, before handing it to you.

"Thanks," you said, your voice scratchy and hoarse as you spoke. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue and it was far from pleasant. "I'll go get your stuff, then I'll drive you home," he said, handing you some paper towels from the dispenser.

"I'll be fine, it'll pass," you said, taking a sip from the water.

"No, you need to go home," he said, taking a step towards you. You were never sick, so this was unusual. He would be more worried about you if you were at work, because you'd be more comfortable at home.

You took another sip of your water. "Honestly, Carlos, I'll be fine in-," you started, before hunching back over the toilet. It was just straight water, and your body was rejecting everything you put in it. "You were saying?" he teased, leaning against the sinks.

You just looked at him, discomfort etched onto your features. "Come on, you're going home," he said, gently taking your elbow. "I can drive myself, you've got important stuff to do," you said, not wanting to interrupt his day.

"I'm on break for an hour, that's enough time to get you home," he said, his heart aching to see you like you were. "OK, I'll go and tell Fred I'm going,"

"I'll take care of all that, you just go to the car and I'll get your stuff," he told you, leading you out of the bathroom and back through the garage. "You alright?" Charles asked, realising how much worse you looked in the pan of five minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," you weakly smiled at him.

"I'll be back in a bit," Carlos told him as he helped you walk out to the car. You sat in the passenger seat, actually quite glad to be going home. Carlos went to get your things, and came back to the car. "When we get home, you're going straight to bed," Carlos said.

"Sure, dad," you laughed, the motion of you giggling making your stomach churn. You closed your eyes for a minute, waiting for it to pass. "Just breathe, baby," he told you as if you hadn't already tried that.

"Easier said than done," you said, gripping your thighs to try and take the edge off, to focus your mind on something else. Without another word, Carlos took one of your hands and threaded his fingers through yours as he drove home. His thumb subconsciously ran up and down, just out of habit.

You pulled up outside your house, slowly stepping out of the car. You took another moment to steady yourself, the dizziness returning. "Take it steady, take it steady," Carlos softly instructed, looping an arm around your waist as he walked you inside.

"Couch or bed?" Carlos asked as you stood in the entrance hall.

"Couch, it's close to the kitchen and the bathroom," you said as he sat you on the couch.

"You want to get changed?" He asked. He had this compulsion inside of him to take care of you. Seeing you uncomfortable made him uncomfortable. It was like this itch inside his brain that couldn't be scratched unless you were happy.

"The less moving involved, the better," you said, flopping down on the couch and not wanting to move from your position. "I'll see what I can do," he nodded, ascending up the stairs and rooting through the drawers to find what he was looking for.

Yes, it was his hoodie, but you wore it more than him. He would wear it once, then it was yours for the taking. "Here, do you want a drink?" He said, passing you the hoodie. You slipped it over your head, not bothered to take off your clothes from work.

"No thanks, it would come back to bite me anyway," you told him, bringing your knees up to your chest as you settled against the armrest of the couch. "You need to stay hydrated, you'll feel worse if you don't," he said, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water.

"I'll try," you said. Carlos picked a blanket up from the back of the couch and draped it over you, making sure you were cosy. "You need anything else before I go?" He asked, not wanting to leave you by yourself. This was one of those days where you would benefit from his presence, from him holding you.

"I don't think so, I'll see you later," you tried to smile, not wanting him to be late for the end of lunch break. Charles would be waiting for him and so would everyone else. "OK, call me if you need me, alright?" He said, approaching you and kissing you on the forehead.

"I will," you said, picking up the TV remote and pressing the 'on' button. You shifted around for a second, before finding your comfy position. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he called, closing the door and heading back to the factory.

After around an hour, you tried sipping at the water, but it just came back up after a few minutes. As the movie you were watching came to a close, you were left in silence after the entire credits had rolled.

You were left thinking. You hadn't been feeling too great for the last few days, but this was the worst of it. It didn't take much thinking for you to come to a conclusion. There were a few factors that added to it too.

Surely not though, right? And this wasn't the time for that. You and Carlos hadn't been engaged for that long, and you weren't thinking about that now. Maybe in a few years, yes, but definitely not now.

You sat there, fighting with yourself in your mind, feeling sicker with worry than you did with nausea. You told yourself you were being silly, and that you were just jumping to the most drastic conclusion possible.

Everything was going to be fine.

Carlos, on the other hand, was worried sick about you for a whole other reason. He thought you were sick, like, sick sick. Not the kind of sick you thought you were. He thought you had a stomach bug, but not a literal one.

Him and Charles had another quick, fifteen minute break to sit and have a drink while the mechanics tinkered on some things. "Is Y/N alright?" Charles asked, glugging some more water down. "Yeah, she'll be fine. It's probably just a bug or something,"

"You sure?" Charles questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "She's been off for what, nearly two weeks?" he said, referring to your numerous complaints about different ailments you had.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Carlos dismissed. You'd be right as rain again in a couple of days, that's what he kept telling himself. "You two have plenty of fun, just think about it," Charles smirked.

"No, no, mhm," Carlos shook his head in embarrassment, "I know what you're implying, but no," he rushed. "That you get up to a lot or what could be up with Y/N?"

"Both," Carlos said, standing and leaving Charles by himself. He couldn't think about either of those things right now.

--

"Carlos, is that you?" You called out, trying to act like everything was fine and you were feeling better. Well, you were feeling better, but you were just anxious. "Yeah, it's me," he said, walking into the living room and sitting on the couch next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel alright, but the water came straight back up when I tried drinking it," you explained, not able to meet his eyes. He could tell there was something wrong by your body language. You were stiff and your hands were fidgeting.

"Come on, what's wrong?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. "Nothing, I feel fine," you told him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Then what's really wrong?" he asked, grabbing your chin and turning your head so that you were looking at him. You didn't want to tell him. You didn't want him to be mad. This wasn't part of the plan.

You whispered what you wanted to say, but so quietly it was unintelligible. You weren't even sure you had fully formed legible words. "Louder, querida,".

"I think I'm pregnant," you said, staring into his eyes, searching. Searching for any sense of anger, annoyance, hatred towards you. But you saw nothing but the soft brown eyes you had become so accustomed to.

"Have you done a test or anything?" he asked, not really knowing what to say to you.

"No, not yet," you muttered, averting your eyes down to your hands instead of at Carlos.

"Then I'll go to the store, pick one up, and we can see, OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, OK, sounds good," you nodded, and he was gone nearly as quickly as he came. You didn't have a clue how he felt, he was completely neutral. He didn't show any emotion.

Before you knew it, you had left the test on the bathroom counter and sat with your back against it while you waited for the time to be over. Carlos wordlessly came and sat next you, resting his hands on his knees.

"What're we going to do if I am?" you broke the silence, the question being on the tip of your tongue since he had gotten back home. "I'll support whatever decision you make, no matter what," he said, his tone dripping with sincerity.

"If I am, I want to keep it," you mumbled, waiting for him to yell at you or walk out.

"Then I'll be here every step of the way," he said, "I- I want a baby with you, Y/N, I really do," he told you, placing a calming hand on your thigh. "I feel like there's a 'but' at the end of that sentence," you nervously said.

"No, baby, no, there's no but. I mean it," he said, and a part of you felt comforted at his words. The minutes went by and they felt like hours. Long, agonizing hours. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Two minutes, I think?"

"OK, we'll give it a bit longer so the results are clear and everything," he nodded. He didn't want to tell you how much he actually wanted you to be pregnant, just in case you weren't. He didn't want you to feel like you had let him down or anything.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, turning to look at you. You were still pale, and you were still mindlessly fiddling with your fingers. "I'm scared, nervous, but excited at the same time. I'll be kind of disappointed if I'm not, but also terrified if I am,"

"Well whatever the outcome is, I'll be here. If you are, then that's great. But if you aren't, we can think about it fully and maybe start properly trying if that's what you want," he explained, and it sounded like music to your ears. "What would we do about the wedding?"

"I'd still have our wedding if you were pregnant, but if you don't want to, then we can wait. I honestly don't mind," he smiled, his fingers tracing random circles on the skin of your thigh. You were counting your lucky stars that you had ended up with a guy like Carlos.

"You think we should check?" you nervously laughed, genuinely not knowing what you wanted the outcome to be. "Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it?" he asked, wanting to make this as easy as possible for you.

"Could you go and stand outside while I do it?" you asked, and he happily nodded and stood outside the bathroom as you closed the door. You blocked out the world around you. In this moment, it was just you and your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, trying to slow your heart rate down a bit. You thought prolonging it would only make it worse, so you turned over the test on the counter and had to clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

You stared at it, as if looking at it longer would change it. As if it would make that second pink line disappear. You tried to compose yourself before going to tell Carlos. You were trying to hide the joy, just incase what he said earlier was just him being supportive.

"Y/N? Baby? Are you alright?" he said, knocking on the door gently. You didn't answer, unsure of what would come out if you opened your mouth. "Querida? Por favor, diga algo," (please, say something). You could hear the concern and worry in his voice, but your mouth wouldn't say the words you wanted it to say.

"Can I come in?" he asked, getting really concerned at your lack of a response. He wouldn't have been surprised if he walked in and you had passed out due to your silence. Just as he turned the door handle, you opened the door.

You looked at him, wide-eyed, as you handed him the thing that would change your lives forever. You searched his face, trying to find any hints of emotion. You could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but you were certain your eyes were playing tricks on you.

You couldn't handle it anymore, so you threw your arms around his neck. "Are you happy?" he asked, not wanting to give his full reaction until he knew how you felt. "I'm ecstatic, you?"

"I'm over the moon, baby," he smiled, squeezing you back. He let you go, and you couldn't help but allow a few happy tears to slip down your cheeks."I think we're going to have to postpone the wedding," you told him, and he smiled and nodded.

"You're having my baby, your wish is my command," he said, vowing to be there through every little thing, and he was your slave for the next nine-or-so months. That was the least you deserved.

"This is amazing," you smiled, not really finding the words to express the joy you felt. It had all been so quick, but it had led to this, so you weren't going to complain. "Looks like you're stuck with me forever, now," you joked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled, trailing his fingers up and down your hips. You were all he ever wanted, and now you were having his child. His child. It didn't sound real, but in the best way possible.

--

You had gotten home early, and you couldn't stop looking and touching at the small bump you had growing. You were around 4 months pregnant at this point, and you couldn't have been more excited for your impending arrival.

You had just received a text from Carlos, asking if you wanted anything from the store while he was on his way home. He did this every day, no matter the time, no matter how tired he was, no matter what.

You and your baby came before everything and anything, with no exceptions. He treat you like a princess, and sometimes he stepped around you like you were a paper-thin sheet of glass. He didn't let you do much by yourself anymore.

You didn't mind, but you had asked him to stop treating you as if you were incompetent. You replied to his text with a food combination you had been desperate to try all day. Your brain was just telling you it would be good, so you thought you would feed it what it wanted.

Carlos responded with a 'That's gross, but sure', and you couldn't help but laugh. He was back after fifteen minutes, your items in hand. "If you get ill, don't blame me, OK?" he laughed, handing you the jar of pickles as well as the peanut butter.

"I honestly hate how good this looks to me right now," you laughed as he took a seat next to you. "Y'know, the lady at the counter said, 'It's either you know someone who's pregnant, or you've got weird tastes," he told you as you cracked open the peanut butter with a pop.

"What did you say?" asked, trying to open the jar of pickles, but struggling immensely.

"I told her my fiance was pregnant, and she was relieved," he laughed, finding it very amusing to watch you struggle. "Hand it here," he said, and you passed him the jar with a huff. Effortlessly, Carlos opened the jar of pickles, and you hated the way you felt about it.

It just made you tingle all over, and you blamed the hormones for making you go crazy. It was just something about the way his arms flexed to make his muscles pop and how his knuckles went white because of how hard he was gripping the lid.

"You like what you see?" he smirked, handing you the jar again.

"Maybe I do," you replied with a grin, batting your eyelashes at him. He looked at you with the eyes, and they never failed to reduce you to mush and answer his every last little request. But you had him under your spell.

"Later, querida," he winked at you, pushing himself off the couch. "I'm going to have a shower, you think you can cope with the thought of me till them?" he teased.

"Oh I'll be fine, don't you worry," you giggled.

"But first, I want to see the disgust on your face when you realise how disgusting that combination is," he laughed, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. You dipped the pickle into the peanut butter and took a bite out of it.

"OK that is actually really nice," you smiled, going back in for another taste. Carlos' nose scrunched up in disgust. "That is nasty, ew, no," be laughed, backing away and up the stairs. "You should try it!" you collared, and you were met with a hearty laugh.

When Carlos came back downstairs from the shower, his hair was wet and he look a lot comfier. A lot hotter too. "How were the pickles?" He asked, looking at the pickle jar that only had a quarter of the pickles left in it. And the half-empty jar of peanut butter.

"Great, you want one?" you offered, brandishing the jar in front of him. Carlos didn't like pickles on the best of days, but definitely not now. "Not a chance, that shit is nasty," he laughed, pushing the jar back towards you.

"I'll tell you what else could be nasty," you smirked, looking at him with a devilish smile on your face. "Oh, so you're being like that, baby?"

"Maybe I am," you said, leaning back and watching as that mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "I'll see what I can do for you, then," he grinned, walking towards you. You knew just what to say to make him tick, and you had done it again.

--

As much as your bump slowed you down, it didn't make you work any less hard. Fred had asked you to carry a box of some sort of documents down to the guys at the garage, and you were glad to be able to stretch your legs.

You got to the door to get out of the office, but you couldn't open it with the box in your hands. As any normal person would, you put the box on the floor to open the door, and then bent over to pick it back up.

"Hey, hey, hey, you OK?" Carlos appeared out of nowhere, pulling you back so you were stood upright. "Yeah, I'm just taking this box down to the garage," you nodded, appreciating the concern. He thought you were doubled over and in pain, but he was glad to be wrong.

"You go sit down, I've got it," he said, picking the box up.

"Carlos, I need to do something with myself, a bit of exercise is good for me," you told him, trying to pull the box off him. "No heavy lifting, that's what the doctors said, you can walk with me," he said, setting off through the door.

"You think that that box his heavy? You need to work out more, Carlos," you mocked, walking beside him. "No, but you know that's not what I mean. Minimal strain,"

"I think you pay more attention than I do," you laughed, skipping down the stairs.

"Someone has to take care of you," he playfully rolled his eyes at you, watching your every move as you hopped down the stairs. "Where do you want this?" He asked as you reached the garage.

"Just put it down there, they'll know it's there," you said, pointing to the corner Fred told you to put the box in. He had told the mechanics that it was there, and someone would come and find it later.

"What are you even doing here today?" you asked, the question suddenly dawning on you. You knew there was no testing on the car, and Fred didn't have any meetings with him or Charles today. "Just some stuff with the media people and stuff," he lied.

Well, half-lied. They did have a meeting with the media people, but that had finished an hour ago. He didn't need to be at the factory anymore, but he was compelled to keep an eye on you. It wasn't that he thought you were incapable of taking care of yourself, he just needed to be there in case anything went wrong.

If you needed him, he would be there. If something happened and he wasn't, he would never be able to forgive himself. "OK, well I'll see you in a bit," you said, seeing that something was up but not thinking too much about it.

You walked away and off to your desk to do another hour-or-so's work before you broke off for lunch. You checked Fred's calendar again, answered a lot of emails, but you felt a pair of eyes lingering on you.

You looked up from your screen, but you didn't see anyone there. But, as soon as you focused back on your work, you felt the eyes glued to you again. This time when you looked up, you saw a motion in the doorway in front of you.

Sighing to yourself, you figured you would leave Car- I mean the mystery individual to play their little games. You let him watch for a bit, let him think he had won. Then, you looked up again, catching him dashing behind the doorway.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" you called out, staring at the doorway. There was zero movement, and he clearly thought he was being slick. "Carlos, come on darling, what are you doing?" you called out again, and he slowly wandered out.

"I was just inspecting the doorframe, making sure it wasn't going to collapse or something," he rambled, leaning on your desk with his hands on the edge of the wood. "Sure you were, don't you have media stuff to be doing?" you skeptically asked.

"Yeah, actually, I have to go and do that, right now," he said, turning around and walking away as quickly as he could. It was very odd, but you just thought it was Carlos being Carlos.

Finally, lunch rolled around and you took yourself to the kitchen, where your lunch sat waiting for you in the fridge. The kitchen was empty, since you tended to take lunch later than everyone else, and it was nice to have some silence during the day.

Next to you, you heard something falling off the table, and turned to see a potted plant on the floor, with soil everywhere. Then you saw the perpetrator. "What's your excuse for sitting under a table while I'm eating my lunch, Carlos?"

"I was uh-," he stuttered, and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to churn out an excuse. "Go on, lie to me," you said, staring daggers into his soul.

"Fine, I was just making sure you were OK, that's all," he breathed, sitting down opposite you.

"I can take care of myself, Carlos. You don't need to watch over me 'secretly' like you have been all day," you told him, watching as his cheeks tinted pink and he couldn't meet your gaze. "Querida, I know that, I just want to be here if you need me,"

"If I need you, I will call you. Go home, relax, have some peace and quiet. We will be completely fine," you reassured him, and you could tell he still wasn't fully convinced. You also didn't think it would take that much, but there you were.

"Look, I really appreciate you wanting to be here for me, I really do. But you don't have to watch my every move. If I need you, I will tell you," you further pressed, taking his hand from across the table.

"Do I have to go home though? I can just sit with you at your desk, bring you snacks, talk if you get bored. You won't even know I'm there, baby, I promise," he pleaded, looking at you through those big brown eyes.

"Go home, and take some time for yourself. It's not a request, it's an order," you said sternly. Carlos looked dejected, and he had resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do. "Yes ma'am," he sighed, unhooking his jacket off the rack with a sulk.

"Please?" he begged one more time, standing by the door.

"Go home." You told him one more time. He pouted, and you glared at him. He knew not to argue with you when you were being really stern with him, and he knew he had to go. Carlos didn't know what he'd do without you at home.

He literally lived to serve you, and make sure you and your child were OK. That was his life, besides racing. He hadn't been by himself in a while, and he felt kind of lost without you. But he did as he was told, and went home, by himself.

The second he got home, he couldn't resist the urge to pick up his phone and text you. 'Hey baby, how are you doing?' and you just sighed, looking at your phone. There was no way you were responding to him.

'Hey, is everything OK?' he texted back around fifteen minutes later, the show he was watching wasn't occupying his mind like he wanted it to. No matter what, every thought in his mind was replaced by panicked thoughts of you, in pain or something.

He couldn't go by a second without worrying for you if you weren't around him. You ignored this message too, thinking it would teach him a lesson. 'Querida, if you don't tell me you're OK, I will come straight back to work,' he messaged, his leg nervously bouncing up and down.

He was staring daggers into the car keys on the coffee table, almost willing them into his hand by telepathy. When you read that text, you knew he was deadly serious, so you had to text him back. 'Carlos. You come back to work and we are going to have some serious issues. I'm fine,'

Carlos almost didn't want you to respond, just so he'd have the excuse to drive back to work. But he needed to know you were alright, he just wouldn't be able to make sure of that himself. He had a secret weapon lurking up his sleeve.

He might have been sent home, but he knew someone who hadn't been. Charles was at the factory, and he was actually supposed to be there, because he actually had meetings. He would check on you between meetings, and report back to Carlos.

You were sat on your desk, when Charles walked past and smiled. Obviously, you smiled back and didn't think twice about it. Ten minutes later, he came back and stood right in front of your desk, seeming to be doing something on his phone.

You caught his eyes as they flicked up from the screen and onto you, before he walked away. "Hey, do you know if Fred had any messages for me?" Charles asked, coming over to your desk. "No, nothing," you shook your head.

"Can you check?" Charles asked, as if he were expecting something, but you knew there was nothing. "There's nothing," you told him again.

"Fine, fine," he said, knowing there was nothing he could do, "How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning over the desk. "You can tell Carlos I'm fine and that nothing is wrong," you said, instantly sussing out what he was doing.

"I'm just asking how you are," he sheepishly explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're a bad liar, I'm fine," you said, resting your head on your hands.

"But he-"

"Charles. Tell him I am fine," you instructed, glaring at him. He put his hands up defensively, backing up from the desk. "OK, OK, I get it," he said backing away and out into the hallway. He texted Carlos to tell him that you had foiled their plans.

You rolled your eyes as he walked away, but a small grin spread on your lips at the thought of him, texting Charles and asking him to watch over you.

--

"Shit," you whispered to yourself, turning over for the literal thousandth time. No position was comfortable, your overly swollen stomach got in the way at every turn. You just decided to lie there in the dark, your eyes wide open as you stared into the blackness.

There were rims of moonlight coming through the sides of the curtains, but that was it. Carlos was so tired after a day at the factory, and he had been out for hours at this point. In the end, you thought you'd lie there until you became so tired you would pass out.

No matter what, everything was aching. Your back was constantly sending uncomfortable shoots up your spine, and it made everything a challenge. Including falling asleep. This combined with the pounding in your head didn't help. Turning your head to the side, you saw that it was nearing on three am.

You turned your attention back on the ceiling as you thought about what you were going to do tomorrow. Well, later that same day. You had been on maternity leave for around two weeks, and you had already done everything you wanted to do around the house.

Time ticked agonizingly by, the silence and darkness driving you crazier by the second. And more frustrated at the lack of sleep you were getting. Just as you were going to go downstairs and do something to try and make yourself tired, the bed shifted next to you and the bathroom light flicked on.

You stayed in the same position, expecting him to just walk back to bed and not notice you. The second before he turned the light off, he notices your open eyes looking back at him. "Hey, baby, did I wake you up?" he asked in a hushed whisper, getting back into bed and shuffling as close to you as possible.

"No, don't worry. I wasn't asleep," you said, sighing.

"What, so you haven't slept?" he asked, lying on his side to face you as his fingers traced shapes on your stomach. "No, I can't," you shook your head, hoping he would just brush it off and go back to sleep, but you knew he wouldn't.

"What can I do?" he asked. You may not have been able to see him very well, but you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your face. "I'll fall asleep soon, I'm really tired," you told him, your right hand tangling into his dark locks.

"Well then, what can I do to help you fall asleep quicker?" he lightly chuckled, prodding you gently in the ribs. "You've had a long day, darling, go to sleep," you instructed, not wanting to make him tired later.

"You've had just as long a day as I have, querida, you need to sleep too. You not sleeping isn't good for you, it isn't good for the baby, and that therefore means it's not good for me either," he chuckled. "So you're trying to guilt trip me into letting you help me?" you asked, and you could just picture the smirk you knew was on his face.

"Yes and no, and I know it's working. We're in this together, if you're awake, I'm awake. If you need something, I am here," he told you. You weren't the biggest fan of always relying on him for things, since you liked to have some form of independence, but it was times like these where you were extremely grateful to have someone so caring and doting.

"So, do you want a tea, or an extra blanket, or we can go and do something until you get tired?" he listed, masking the yawn he was letting out. "A tea sounds great," you told him, and he was gone like a flash. "Do you want anything else while I'm downstairs?"

"Could you grab two paracetamols and my book off the coffee table?" you asked, the hall light switching on outside. "Headache?"

"No points for guessing that one," you laughed, rubbing your temples as Carlos headed downstairs. A few minutes later, he was back, with a perfectly brewed tea in one hand, and your book with the paracetamols balanced on top of it in the other.

"I didn't make it too hot so you can drink it straight away," he smiled, "Watch your eyes," he said, turning the lamp on as you screwed them shut. It took a second for them to adjust, but you were fine after a few seconds.

He handed you the mug and the white tablets, downing them in a second. "Thank you," you smiled, and you could still see the tiredness in his face. "Anything for you," he hummed, setting your book in your lap and sitting next to you.

You had nearly finished your tea, and it was already making you feel sleepy as the paracetamol seemed to be working on your headache, it turning from a pounding to a soft thumping instead. As if on cue, you and Carlos yawned in unison.

"I think we should probably try sleeping now, yeah?" you asked, shimmying back down under the covers and putting your book aside. You wouldn't need it after all. "Yeah, yeah, c'mere," he smiled, switching the lamp back off and shuffling into you. He pulled you against him, his chin resting atop your head as his hand lazily trailed across your stomach.

Even now, it was a strange sensation that he relished. Knowing that your baby was just beneath his fingertips, only separated by a few centimetres, made his heart sing with glee. It made him look forward to the impending day that they would arrive even more, and he couldn't wait to hold them and give them the best life possible.

He knew the two of you would be brilliant, loving parents to your child, no matter what. He also knew there'd be hard times, but you'd get through it together. Just like you always did.

"Goodnight, darling," you sleepily whispered, tangling his legs with yours.

"Goodnight, baby," he mumbled into your hair, trying to force himself to keep his eyes open. Unless you were asleep, he wasn't allowed to. Thankfully, he waited for around ten minutes and he was confident you were fast asleep, and nothing could harm you.

Not while his two favourite people in the whole world were at home, in his arms where he could keep you safe until the end of time. That was how it would always be, for forever and longer if the world would let him.

--

God you were tired. Well, you had every right to be. No more than an hour ago, you and Carlos had welcomed your newest family member into the world. You nearly refused to sleep so you could watch over her, but your body wouldn't let you stay awake.

"Baby, please sleep. I'll watch her, she'll be fine," Carlos had told you, even though his body was also desperate for rest after being there through every second of the 9 hour labour process. He didn't care about himself though, he could stay up for hours to make sure you got the rest you needed.

You were exhausted, and deservedly so, and he would happily wait up for longer to give you the time. Also, he couldn't take his eyes off of your sleeping daughter. She was absolutely perfect in every way, and she was currently sleeping in the corner as he watched her.

You were sleeping lightly, your parental instincts keeping you on edge, ready to strike into action at the drop of a hat. The silence was nice, as well as the lack of pain. It was like your body was floating you felt so peaceful, yet alert. Carlos was holding your hand, his habit of running his thumb up and down not being broken just yet.

His eyes were pinned on her, monitoring her every breath, searching for any tiny abnormality. She was his responsibility, and he was not going to let a single thing happen to her. He had only held her once so far, and he was so desperate to hold her again, but he couldn't wake her.

He wasn't even able to hold you right now, so his arms felt cold and empty. Every now and then, he would check the digital clock on the bedside table on the other side of you, just to see how much time had passed by.

He lost track after a while, and your girl woke up, the small beginnings of a cry escaping her lips. "Hey, hey, cariño," he said, approaching her and picking her up. One hand was under her head, the other one under her back as he handled her like she could shatter at any given time.

He held her against his chest, lightly bouncing her from side to side. His every touch was as delicate as a feather, not wanting to harm her in any way.  "You're OK, Daddy's here," he soothed, rubbing her back. She was slowly getting louder, but he didn't want to wake you up.

"Shh, don't cry, you don't want to wake Mommy, she's tired," he said as if she could understand him. It was almost as if she had, however, because her cries quietened and stopped as she fell silent against Carlos' chest. 

"Thank you, cariño," he smiled, planting a kiss atop the soft skin of her head, "Now let's sit down and wait for Momma to wake up," he told her, refusing to put her back down in her cot. He wanted to keep her tucked against his chest, where she was safe. 

She was so tiny against him, her back barely the size of the span of his hand. It felt so weird to have such a high amount of love for such a tiny someone, but she was just too perfect not to adore with every fibre that he had in his being. 

"While we have some Daddy-daughter time, there are a couple of things I want to say to you," he started, looking over at you to see if you had woken up. Your eyes were still closed, and your position hadn't shifted, so he assumed you were still asleep.

"For starters, you have no idea how excited I am to finally be able to meet you and hold you. I guess you'll only really know if you have your own kids. But I don't want you thinking about that yet, you're not allowed a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever whoever you like until you're at least twenty-one, and I'm serious about that,"

"Next up, you're going to have to work with me here, I am going to teach you Spanish so we can gossip and your Mom won't know what we're saying, since she failed miserably when I taught her Spanish. No sabía escuchar y siempre estaba distraída," (she was not a good listener and always got distracted)

You didn't have a clue what he had said to her, and you didn't like the sound of not being able to understand what they could be saying. But, you had to bite back a giggle at his comment about no romance until she was twenty-one.

"Finally, since I'm sure you're already getting bored of me talking at you, but get used to it, I promise I will love you no matter what, until the day I die. I will protect you and keep you safe, no matter how old and frail I might become,"

"I also hope you know just how lucky you are to have the best mother in the whole entire universe. I might not always be with you, since I'll be racing, but she will be. You will grow up with the best role-model you could ask for, and I know you'll be a fantastic person too. I love you, cariño,"

"Thanks for making me cry, Carlos, I appreciate it," you spoke up, wiping the tears from your eyes. You loved what he had said, and your hormones were still all over the place. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he chuckled, shifting in his seat to face you more.

"You can try and teach me Spanish again, I don't want to be left out," you smiled, looking at the perfect picture that was set out in front of you. "Sure, we can try that again," he nodded.

"Can I have her?" you asked, holding your arms out for him to put your precious girl into. Carlos just smirked and shook his head, "No, she's mine," 

"Please?" you pouted, leaning forward to try and take her away from him. You just wanted to hold your daughter, it really wasn't a big ask. "OK, baby, OK," he triedly smiled, placing her in your arms. "But move up, I want to sit with you," he said.

You made sure she was comfortable, and scooted to the side so he could sit on your hospital bed with the two of you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, not able to stop his fingers from brushing against her. 

Carlos was finally able to close his eyes and let his guard down. He was finally able to rest for a bit. Not for too long, but for a bit. "Hey darling, before you sleep, we're sticking with the name we chose, right?" you asked.

"I think it suits her," he sleepily nodded against your shoulder. You agreed, and left him to get some well-deserved rest. He had been there through every torturous second, sat through all the abuse you had hurled at him, and stuck through his hand getting crushed or his shoulder being punched. 

And he'd do it all over again. He'd do it all for his girls, he'd do anything.

--

"She's normally very talkative, but she's just pretending to be shy," you laughed with Toto as Harper giggled and buried her head in your neck. She was always the center of attention at every race, and she had grown to know a lot of people.

Toto received a text, and had to dash off. You thought it would be best to head back to the garage anyway, so you set off across the paddock. A couple of people were having interviews, and she waved at her favourites as you passed by.

She waved at a certain curly haired boy, and his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Sure, he was in an interview, but he just said, "Sorry, I have to go," and dashed over to the pair of you. 

"Well if it isn't my favourite little lady!" Lando exclaimed, plucking her out of your arms as she willingly let him take her. "Muppet!" was all Harper she said, since it was her way of greeting him since she had heard Carlos say it a few times. 

"Now what is this?" he asked, poking her in the stomach and making her giggle uncontrollably. "Your Daddy might race for Ferrari, but your favourite uncle Lando doesn't. This should be papaya, not red," he playfully scolded, tickling her even more. 

Her laughter was contagious, and you could see other drivers and personnel around smiling at her.  The cameras clicked as the press took some photos, and you could tell she was loving the attention.

"I also wear red, therefore she is in the perfect colour," Charles said, popping up beside you. "Carlos is just finishing up an interview, he'll be out in a few," Charles told you, as Harper held her arms out to him and did the grabby hands. 

"I have been replaced, my heart is hurting," Lando said with feigned sadness as he clutched at his heart. Thankfully, Harper was used to being passed around from person to person often, so she didn't much mind. 

"Think how I feel, she's always leaving me for one of you," you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. "You do make a good point, but you're not her favourite uncle," Lando said, folding his arms and he swayed from side to side.

"No, you're not, I am," Charles said, bouncing around with Harper on his hip as she continued to giggle at him. "We're not starting this now," you sighed, not wanting to hear the favourite uncle argument again. 

But before they could answer, Harper was on her feet, running away from Charles. Tag was their favourite game, and he could never say no to her when she asked to play. Well, he never said no to her in regards to anything, but tag was the most important. 

"Charles, be careful!" you called, not able to not worry about her running around a very crowded place. "I know!" he called back, slowly jogging to try and catch up to Harper.

"Don't worry Y/N, I'll keep an eye on them," Lando grinned, and you could see he was itching to get involved in the game. At this point, Harper was chasing Charles as fast as her little legs could carry her, but Charles was barely even walking away from her.

But, Harper saw opportunity strike when she saw Lando next to her. She hit him in the leg with a squealed, "Tag!" before turning and running away. 

"Harps, you're just too fast!" Lando laughed, trying to chase her. His sights turned on Charles, however, who was cowering away from him. As Lando set off on the hunt for Charles, Harper laughed and clapped her little hands, "Run, Charlie, run!" she shouted as Lando grappled Charles and tagged him. 

Harper started to run away again, when an arm slithered around your waist. "I have to be in an interview while you guys are all out here having fun, so unfair," Carlos smiled, pulling you into his side as he kissed you on the head.

He was so glad that his best friends were so good with his daughter, and she loved them just as much as they loved her. "I know, it's just so unfair," you laughed, smiling at him as he watched Harper, his eyes full of love and wonder.

The two of you chuckled as Charles caught Harper, picking her up as he tickled her. She squirmed in his arms, fits of giggles sounding out around the paddock. "Stop it!" she laughed, hitting him in the chest. 

"Oh hey Carlos," Lando said, breathlessly coming and standing next to you. At the mention of her Dad's name, Harper's attention turned from Charles to Carlos. "Papa!" she exclaimed, wriggling out of Charles' arms and running over to Carlos.  

She leapt into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around. "Hola, cariño, ¿qué tal?" he asked, holding her on his hip as she squished his cheeks. "Estoy bien, ¿y tú?" she smugly grinned, loving that she could show off the Spanish Carlos had been teaching her. 

"Yo también," he proudly smiled, "Eres muy inteligente, ¿lo sabías?" he said, and your understanding of his words stopped right there. "Yo no comprende," she looked at him, confusion written all over her face.

"All I said was that you're my clever girl, sweetheart," he smiled kissing her on the cheek. She let out a giggle of happiness, her smile lighting up Carlos' face. You could watch them together all day, and it was your favourite form of entertainment. 

He kissed her on the other cheek, and she scrunched her nose up. Carlos started kissing her all over her face, as she squealed and squirmed. "Daddy, stop it! That tickles!" she laughed, trying to push his head away from her.

"Does it? I hadn't noticed," he chuckled as he carried on. But he eventually stopped, leaving her breathless from laughing. Harper rested her head on Carlos' shoulder as you, Charles, Lando and him stood and talked. 

You noticed she hadn't said anything in a while, so you stepped to stand behind Carlos. "Harper? Sweetheart? Are you tired?" You asked, her eyes looking droopy as you brushed a lock of her dark hair out of her face. It was nearly as dark as Carlos'. 

"Mhm," she nodded, her face squished against Carlos' shoulder. 

"OK, do you want to go for a nap?" you asked, gently massaging her scalp. 

"Yeah," she yawned, all of that running around with Charles and Lando clearly making her tired. "Come on then," you said, she flopped out of Carlos' arms and into yours. She buried her head in the crook of your neck, her breath soft on your skin. 

"I'm going to her to your room, I'll see you guys in a bit," you said, rubbing your hand over Harper's back soothingly. "Yeah, that's fine, is she OK?" Carlos asked, instantly thinking she had fallen ill or something, "Estoy cansada, Papa," she mumbled, lifting her head to look at her Dad.

"OK, I'll see you later," he nodded, kissing Harper on the head and tugging you close to him for a kiss. "See you later, Harps, say bye to Muppet and Charlie," you told her. She smiled at the two drivers, waving them goodbye.

"Bye," she sleepily chuckled, and Charles took her hand and kissed the back of it as he smiled at her. "Sleep well, Harper," he said, and she always giggled at the charm of Charles. 

"I'll beat you in tag next time, little lady," Lando smiled, fist bumping her before you walked away. You took her all the way over to the Ferrari motorhome, and into Carlos' drivers room. It was quiet in there, and the couch was comfortable enough.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?" you quietly asked Harper as she looked up at you with those big brown eyes that were identical to Carlos', and you could see the tiredness in them. "No, I want to sit with you," she mumbled, shifting around until she was happy in your lap. 

"OK, sleep well, sweetheart," you said, planting an affectionate kiss on her head. For a while, you just sat there, Harper soundly sleeping on you. You looked at the table opposite you, and all of the pictures on there brought back the best memories in your life.

One of them was the day Harper was born, and you were sat in the hospital, sleeping with her on your chest. Another was of the three of you on a carousel when you went to a carnival the previous year. You took the picture, and Harper was smiling while sat on Carlos' knee as the horse flew up and down. 

The final one was just of you, and you remembered it was from on of your first dates with Carlos. He had offered to take a picture of you with the full moon behind you, and it instantly became his favourite photo. 

The door to the room opened, and you were initially alarmed. You were afraid that the person thought Carlos was in there and were going to wake up Harper by accident. "Hey, baby," he quietly said, slowly closing the door behind him. 

"Hi, darling," you smiled as he came to sit beside you. 

"How long has she been asleep for?" He asked, his hand moving to the back of your head and gently playing with your hair. You pushed your head into his hand, the feeling sending warm tingles through your brain. 

"Half an hour, she was asleep as soon as we sat down," you told him, slotting yourself into his side like a puzzle piece. "Do you want me to take her? Your legs are probably getting numb," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss into your hair. 

"I'm alright, I don't want to wake her," you told him, leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

"OK, but let me know if you want me to take her," he told you, resting his head atop yours. You closed your eyes for a moment, just feeling a little sleepy. But you had what you wanted, and all you needed in your life.

Carlos looked down at his girls, both sleeping and safe with him. You had given him everything he wanted in his life, and he would never be more grateful for that. The two of you were the picture of perfection, and neither of you would have it any other way. 

A/N - This has been a long time coming, but it's here! Rest assured, all requests are being worked on! Also, I know I always give them daughters, but they're all girl dads to me, y'know? Feel free to submit any requests, I love to write them! Hope you enjoyed 💖

|masterlist|

[malleusthehammer]

Helloooo (●’◡’●)ﾉ could I please request Buddha, Adam, Sasaki and Leonidas with a preteen reader (12 years old) that likes to prank the gods all the time? Like putting a whoopee cushion under Shivas or Thor seats, drawing on anyone's face if they even think about taking a nap when reader is around, only small things that can't really hurt people, and no one can stop them because reader can just teleport away or make a clone of themselves, they prank everyone but them (the characters I requested) and when they're asked why reader just says “their likeable enough” I feel like this would be so chaotic and in a way wholesome 😭

YES OM GI I LOVE THIS IUDE S< ITS SO CUTRE!!! Also i am SO SO SO sorry for the wait!! Also its platonic considering that the reader is 12 years old so-

Pranking with Buddha, Adam, Sasaki, and Leonidas! Warnings: Yelling? Type: Headcanons and drabble!

🍬 Buddha

Dude he LOVES pranking with you!!

I mean, how could he not?

He does blow your cover a LOT because of his loud laugh

He usually takes the heat from the other gods that are being pranked because hes just like that

He thinks its so cool that you can just make a clone of yourself!

You were sneaky, sneaky enough to get past all of Shivas wives that is. When you passed by them on occasion, they treated you like a child of their own. Showering you in gifts and hugs! But- that was besides the point, yes? Buddha had finally convinced you to do that shaving cream prank on the god of destruction. So, you both snuck into the gods room, silent as a mouse. Buddha promised you a handful of candy from his stash if you pulled this off. you knew this was going to be easy-peasy! Maybe so easy and flawless youd get two handfuls of candy!

You silently -or rather, as best you could- sprayed the shaving cream in Shivas hands. His sleeping positions were erratic, so you made sure to cover all four hands in the cream before pulling out the feather you had. Your devious acts had led up to Munin loosing one of his tail feathers, you kept it. Almost like a trophy. You handed the feather to Buddha, who looked like he was about to explode with laughter any moment. Somehow, he kept his cool, tickling Shivas nose with the feather.

The 4-armed god stirred, to then slam a handful of shaving cream in his face. He was quick to wake up, trying to look around, omly to get more shaving cream everywhere.

"GODDAMNIT [Y/N]!!"

His voice rumbled in the room, his arm lunging towards you. You knew this would happen, so you were quick to make a clone to stand. Once Shivas palm hit the clone, it puffed into dust. This caused the God to get even madder. But what made it all worse was Buddha dying of laughter in the corner.

🍎 Adam

At first hes like "How do you find this hilarious?!?"

But then, you pranked Zeus..

and this opened his eyes for REAL

You had tried your best to come up with a prank for the old god Zeus, but nothing would stir in your mind. Eventually, you fell back to your roots of scaring. You hid behind the door of the Gods lounge, knowing the old man would be coming in soon. Once you had heard his distinguishing laugh, your plan was set into motion. You waited till just the right moment to pop out from behind the door. Unfortunately, you weren't far enough away from the door.

Zeus reacted by swinging his arms out in defense, causing the door to slam right back into you. The knob of the door went straight into your stomach, causing you to hit your head hard against the marble wall. You quickly fell to your knees in pain, hearing the old man guffaw and laugh about how you shouldn't scare him like that. You had learned your lesson, not to return to your roots.

You shamefully walked down the grand halls of Valhalla, coming to the garden. Adam saw you, hurrying over to see what was wrong. He was quick to help you, laying you down in the grass as he held an icepack to your head. You both laughed about what happened til Adam broke the silence.

"Little one- why dont you pull pranks like that on me? You do it on all the others.. Are you plotting a big prank on me?"

You giggled and shook your head, explaining how he was like a dad to you. And of course, who would prank their dad?

⚔️Sasaki Kojiro

He's never there to watch you prank but he loves hearing you tell the stories afterwards

You had managed to prank Aphrodite with a couple fake spiders, causing her to scream and sling her food off the table. Her hench men tried to calm her down by showing her that they were face spiders. But that only made it worse. She was running from them, hiding in her own room. You had watched this entirely, trying so hard not to laugh your ass off. After everyone calmed down, you were quick to go find Sasaki.

He was were he usually was, against the fountain in Valhalla's garden. You were quick to run up to him, sitting right down next to him. You both laughed and talked as you blabbered on about your prank. He started busting out laughing when you even reenacted how Aphrodite reacted! After you both calmed down from your laughing fits, you sat back down next to him on the edge of the fountain. Sasaki knew how much you loved pulling pranks on the others in Valhalla. Sometimes even more that Loki himself! Sasaki couldn't help but ask why you didn't pull pranks on him.

"Ahaha- ah.. Now, this makes me wanna ask ya.. Why don't cha pull pranks on me?''

You sat there for a moment. Why didn't you? Well of course you wouldn't pull a prank on someone you care about so dearly! Sasaki was shocked by your answer at first, but was so happy you cared so deary about him!

🛡️ Leonidas

He usually takes the downfall for your pranks because :3

helps you get the supplies and everything!!

lets you hide behind him bc he lowkey scary

Unlike the others, he is always backing you up on the pranks. He's always encouraging you. He's gonna have you writing prank ideas down on a notepad he comes up with ideas so quick. Today, you and him were walking down the halls of Valhalla. He held his cigar between his two fingers as he talked on and on about some pranks he pulled in his younger years. You followed behind closely, furiously writing the ideas down on your notepad. Leonidas chuckled as he saw you writing stuff down as you both walked. He huffed on his cigar for a moment before a thought popped up in his mind.

"Hey kid, why don't cha pull pranks on this old man?"

He smiled and pointed to himself with his thumb. He raised a brow at you for a moment, waiting for your reply.

You sat there, dumbfounded. You really hadn't thought about it.

"I guess- cuz your like the prank master! Like my mentor!"

Leonidas' eyes widened for a second as he thought about what you said. His smile grew as he wrapped his large arm around you. He laughed as he ruffled your hand with his large hand.

"Ahaha! I knew you looked up to me, but not that much! Thank ya, kid!"

YOOOOO HGHJUYGBHJ DIES honestly this was my first time writing for Leonidas and i LOVE HIM SM hes so silly!! also i kinda got carried away with Buddhas so i hope you forgive me for that. BUt i truly hope you enjoyed it!! alsi my asks are open!!

[candycandy00]

texasgirl1344 suggested this in a comment on a post I made (Dabi under a lust quirk). It sounded fun so here you go! 

Smut. 18+. Blowjobs, masturbation, fist time sex, etc.

There he is again. That guy who comes into the convenience store you work at and buys a random assortment of snacks, a hood pulled low, casting his eyes in shadow, a medical mask covering his nose and mouth. From his build and the glimpses you’ve gotten of his eyes, he’s pretty cute. He rarely speaks, but he seems nice enough. 

Of course he turns out to be a villain. 

At the end of your shift, you’re taking out the garbage in the alley behind the store when you see bright blue light to your left, further down the alley. The guy in the hood had only left a few minutes ago, and you’re struck by the fear that he’s gotten caught up in something, so you do a very stupid thing. You investigate the bright light. 

At the other end of the alley, you find your cute hooded stranger shooting blue flames out of his hands, his hood blowing back from the air pressure and revealing black shiny hair. In front of him, three charred bodies lie at his feet, smoke rising from their forms. You recognize him now, even with the mask still on. This man is a dangerous, wanted villain named Dabi. You’ve seen clips of him on the news, committing violent acts. 

Your first instinct is to flee, but you don’t want to alert him to your presence, so you try to back away quietly. And your foot hits a metal soda can, making a shockingly loud sound. Because of course it does. 

Dabi turns around and your eyes meet. There’s a brief pause where you both seem surprised and speechless. Then you turn and run back down the alley, some ancient prey instinct taking over your body. 

You don’t get far. He’s on you within seconds, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and jerking you backwards, into his grasp. He drags you over to the brick wall and tosses you against it, then slams one hand into the wall right beside your head. 

“Can’t believe you made a run for it,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath. 

“Please don’t kill me!” you blurt out, your whole body shaking with fear. Should you do it? Should you use your quirk? 

He pulls off the mask and takes a deep breath. “No point hiding my face now, huh? You know who I am.”

You nod. “Y-you’re Dabi.”

“That’s right. And I really didn’t want to kill you, but I can’t have you reporting to the heroes that I’m hanging around this area,” he says, then leans in close. “So what should I do with you?”

You shrink back as far as you can against the wall. “I won’t tell anyone! I swear!” You know saying things like that is pointless. He has no reason to trust you. 

“Sorry, but I can’t just take your word for it, can I?”

You start to sniffle as tears sting your eyes. You have to use it. There’s a risk involved, but it’s better than dying. You start to charge up your power, but you need to buy a few more seconds of time. “O-okay,” you stammer, “but please don’t burn me. You can stab me or bash my head in or whatever, but I’ve always been terrified of fire.”

He stares at you for a moment, then sighs and pulls back a few inches away from you. “Alright, I won’t burn you to death. So stop crying. I’ll just-“

Before he can finish the sentence, you hit him with your quirk. A massive cloud of pink dust explodes from your body, enveloping Dabi and causing him to cough and hack, waving his arm frantically to try to knock the dust away from his face. But it’s too late. He’s already inhaled it. 

Your friends have joked that your quirk reminds them of a skunk, because you once had to use it this way before. A man was trying to rob the store one night and had a gun pointed at your face. You hit him with the quirk and ran off while he was dealing with the consequences. 

Those consequences included a painfully sudden erection that didn’t go away for hours. At least, that’s what usually happened. To be clear, the quirk only makes people so aroused that they can hardly bear it. The quirk doesn’t make them attracted to you in the slightest. In fact, the few times you’ve used it (mostly on accident), the person hit with it ran to the nearest bathroom to furiously masturbate if they didn’t have a lover to run to. But you did realize the potential danger of using it on the wrong person, someone who didn’t care who they fucked and didn’t care about consent. Your quirk didn’t override a person’s mind or values, but someone who already thought nothing of raping someone would be very dangerous under the effects of this quirk. 

Dabi was a villain. It was certainly possible that he was the wrong sort of person to use it on. But it was either this or be killed. 

Presently, Dabi has dropped to his knees, panting heavily, looking down at his crotch in disbelief and then back at you. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” he asks, his voice strained. 

“It’s a lust quirk. It’ll wear off in a few hours,” you tell him, backing away, getting ready to run back to the store, where a few other employees were still cleaning up before closing time. 

He groans, rubbing at his crotch though his pants. “A few hours?! Fuck!”

You pause and watch him, unable to take your eyes off his face, the healthy parts of his skin flushed red, his soft hair hanging in his eyes, his hand struggling to unbuckle his belt, stilted moans escaping his lips. 

Oh fuck, he’s hot. 

He looks up at you, and instead of looking threatening or angry, he just looks… hungry. Like he’s starving and you have a big plate of food in your hands. His eyes move over you, but he makes no attempt to grab you or even touch you. 

Suddenly you feel sorry for him. You step closer to him and say, “Do you want me to help you to a restroom?” 

He groans and tries to stand up, stumbling a bit. You take hold of one of his arms and help steady him, then you help him walk back to the store. 

The store is empty, and you remember that they had decided to close up early today. You feel like slapping yourself for forgetting, but it does make things less awkward as you lead Dabi to the men’s restroom and into a stall. He flops down on the toilet, fully clothed, and you turn to leave. 

Only, you can’t bring yourself to walk out of the restroom. You hear Dabi’s belt coming undone, and you go back to the open stall, where he’s in the process of unbuttoning his pants. He looks up at you questioningly. 

“Um… can I… watch?” 

His flushed face frowns. “Huh? You a pervert or something?”

“No! I just… Sorry, never mind! I shouldn’t have asked that!” You own face is flushed as you start to leave again. 

“I don’t care,” he says, those eyes looking at you hungrily again. Weird. Your quirk shouldn’t have that effect on him. 

“Really? Are you sure?”

He nods, finally getting his pants open and pulling his cock free. It’s huge, and so hard and stiff, it looks like it’s about to explode. You blush as you stare at it, watching his hand begin moving up and down the length, feeling transfixed as the tip glistens. He has three piercings that look like they were incredibly painful, but somehow they turn you on. You stand there in the doorway of the stall, holding onto the door frame, squeezing your thighs together to prevent the growing wetness between your legs from leaking out, watching this villain stroke his cock. You face is hot, tinted pink, your lips open. You’re beginning to breathe harder. 

Dabi looks at your face and, between ragged breaths, asks, “Did your quirk affect you too?”

“No,” you answer, “I’m immune.”

His eyes pointedly shift to your thighs, where your arousal has dripped down from under your short skirt and is leaving a trail down your leg. You gasp and reach down to try to cover it with your arm, but it’s no use. Dabi has already seen it. You squish your thighs even tighter together and say, “I’ve never watched someone jack off before. I didn’t know it would be so…”

“So what?” he asks, tilting his head back but still watching your face as his arm increases speed and force. The motion is making a wet sound as his hand spreads the wetness from the tip all over the shaft. 

“So… hot.”

He suddenly grabs a handful of toilet paper and covers the end of his cock with it. He groans and closes his eyes, then his whole body tenses. A few seconds later, he pulls the paper away and tosses it in the nearby trash can, exhaling a deep breath and leaning his back against the wall behind him. 

It only takes a moment for him to realize something is wrong and sit up straight, looking down at his still fully hard cock. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, it’s because of the quirk. I said it’ll last a few hours, remember?”

“You mean it’s gonna stay hard the whole time?” he asks, looking at his own dick as if it had betrayed him. He groans as the feeling of uncontrollable arousal hits him again, and his hand is already beginning to move again. 

You shift uncomfortably in the doorway, your panties so wet that it feels like you’ve peed yourself. “I can help, if you want me to.”

His eyes shift to your face immediately, his hand freezing in place. “What?”

You step closer. “I just thought… since I caused this, I could help. If that’s okay with you.”

He opens his legs further apart and looks you in the eyes. “Do whatever you want.”

He must have expected you to reach down and stroke him with your hand, because he seems very surprised when you drop to your knees in front of him and lean your face forward. You extend your tongue and gently lap at the tip of his cock, causing him to moan. You’ve never even touched a dick before, something your friends tease you about, considering your quirk, but your instincts guide you. 

You close your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue around it as you move back and forward, letting it hit the back of your throat. You feel one of Dabi’s hands on your head, burying his fingers in your hair. You prod one of his piercings with your tongue and his cock twitches in your mouth. This all turns you on so much that you spread your knees apart, pull your skirt up, and shove one hand down the front of your panties. You have a well used vibrator at home but you’re so aroused, your fingers stroking your clit will easily get the job done.  

Seeing you do this must have turned Dabi on as well, because it feels like he just got even harder, if that was possible, and he moans as he presses your head down, making you fight to suppress your gag reflex. Then, all at once he pushes your head down so hard that you feel like you’re choking, and groans as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow it all eagerly, your hand still working between your legs. You only regret that he was so far down your throat when he came, you didn’t get a proper taste of his cum. You want it to coat your tongue. You want to savor it. 

He’s still hard in your mouth, so you don’t pull away even when he moves his hand from your head. You just start moving your tongue around him again, sliding your lips up and down him. You glance up at his face and see him looking at you with a strange expression. It’s unreadable, but he can’t take his eyes off you as you continue sucking him off and pleasuring yourself at the same time. 

You feel yourself getting close to climaxing, so you increase the intensity of your strokes, feeling your body quiver. Finally, you cum, and you let his cock slide out of your mouth just long enough to moan. When he sees this, he suddenly grips your chin and presses two fingers into your mouth, holding it open as he shoots his cum onto your tongue. 

You slide your tongue around in your open mouth, tasting his cum and spreading it all over the inside of your mouth. It’s so good, you think you might get addicted. You pull your sopping wet hand out of your panties, fingers sticky, and reach toward the toilet paper, but Dabi catches your hand in his and pulls your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

He’s still hard. Of course he is. His eyes are looking increasingly wild and desperate, the lust completely over taking him. Soon he’ll be like a feral animal, doing anything and everything to cum again. If you don’t want to be fucked by him, now is probably the time to leave, before he loses himself completely. You stand up on shaky legs and look down at him. He’s breathing hard, one hand starting to stroke himself again, hair disheveled, blue eyes staring up at you. You look at his cock, and you wonder if that monster will even fit inside you. But he has that look again, like he’s positively starving for you, like he wants you more than anything else in the world. 

This man was going to kill you only a little while ago. Now you want his dick to obliterate your virginity. Maybe you’re not so immune to your quirk after all. You reach under your skirt and pull your panties down, tossing them aside. You step closer to Dabi and say, “I can help you some more if you want.”

He reaches up and jerks the skirt down so fast, you almost fall down from the force. He practically tears it from your body, leaving you exposed from the waist down. You feel a quick rush of embarrassment, but it quickly passes. You’ve been staring at his dick all this time. Why be embarrassed by him staring at your pussy? 

You position yourself above his cock, placing the tip right at your entrance. You rub yourself on him a bit, then prepare to lower yourself. “This is my first time, so be-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence. With a growl of pure, animalistic lust, he grabs your waist and pulls you down. You’re so slick from cumming earlier that, combined with him pulling you down so forcefully, his massive cock goes all the way in. For a moment, your brain goes complete numb. You don’t breathe. Your eyes go wide as tears fill them. You don’t move a muscle, you just sit there, impaled on his cock, your whole body twitching. Then you gasp, starting to breathe again. You’ve never felt pain quite like that before, but it also feels incredible. You’re so full of him, so warm, you want him to go even deeper. 

His eyes, clouded with desire as they are, stay on your face. “You okay?” he manages to ask 

“Yeah,” you say, “I think you just rearranged my insides, but I’m good.”

He laughs, but his face is still full of lust, arousal. He’s being as patient as he can, but he wants to move. You can feel it in the way his muscles are twitching. 

You take a deep breath and brace yourself, then you start moving, slowly and gingerly at first, just wiggling around a bit, and then you raise yourself up slightly so that you can slide back down. 

Dabi tosses his head back, grunts of “Fuck!” escaping his lips. His hands are still on your waist, gripping the flesh there for dear life. 

After a while, you start to feel more comfortable, so your movements get more bold. You’re riding him now, grinding against him, arms wrapped around his neck. The sounds he’s making almost bring you to orgasm again on their own. Soon after, his whole body stiffens, he moans again, and you feel him cum inside you. How does he have anything left? 

You slide off him and stand in the stall on trembling legs. He must know you need a break, because he starts jacking off again, using the sticky combination of your and his cum, and the small amount of blood from your deflowering, as lube. You watch him, mesmerized by the sight. Eventually he cums again, though only a few drops ooze out. 

He’s still hard, the poor guy. You start to feel sorry for everyone you’ve ever used this quirk on, even the guy who held you at gun point. You had no idea the effects were so intense. 

You have to take responsibility and help him out again. Two handjobs and another blowjob later, the quirk has finally worn off, and both of you are exhausted. You’ve collapsed onto his lap, breathing hard, clutching his jacket. You gather your strength and stand up, picking up your discarded clothing from the floor. 

You glance back at Dabi, who has his head leaned back, his eyes closed. Did he pass out? Should you take this chance to run away? That was the original plan after all. But no, something tells you not to do that. 

“So are you still going to kill me?” you ask, keeping your voice even. 

He lifts his head and looks at you. “I was never gonna kill you. I was gonna threaten you a little and try to scare you into not calling the heroes on my ass.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling stupid. 

He slowly stands up and buttons his pants. “I told you I didn’t want to kill you. Why do you think I keep coming in here?”

You still don’t get it. Maybe your brain is still fuzzy from all the orgasms. “Why do you keep coming in here?”

He gives you a weak grin. “There’s this cute girl who works here. I like seeing her smile when I walk in.”

You blush at that, your own grin spreading across your face. “What a coincidence. There’s this cute guy who comes in all the time but hides his face. I’ve always wanted to know who he is.”  

Dabi laughs as he heads to the sink and washes his hands. You watch him in the mirror, your mind drifting back to all the things you just did with this man. When he’s finished, he opens the door to the restroom. He looks at you over his shoulder and says, “That’s a hell of a quirk you have. Next time, let’s be a little better prepared.”

With that, he leaves. You look at yourself in the mirror. Hair messy, cheeks flushed red, drying cum on your face. All you can think is, “Next time?”

[sunshine-lilies]

Blonde Seungcheol as your Neighbor

𖠜 Pairing : Seungcheol x reader 𖠜 Genre : Fluff 𖠜 Word count : 824

SYNOPSIS

on the way home, you noticed a man with a blonde hair passed by the hallway of your apartment building. It was impossible not to notice when the hair color of their choice was really vibrant. You wondered if you had a new neighbor who just moved in and wanted to know which apartment he is but he unlocked the door just beside yours.

ᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒᨒ

The day when you finally took your finals had you sleeping less than usual and the dark circles under your eyes were really defining your tired face. It was a surprise you could still function and aced the exam given that caffeine is the only thing circulating in your veins. Well... 5 cups of coffee isn't enough to replace your blood right? riiight?

Thankfully you only had two exams for today and you were totally free for the whole afternoon. Your last two braincells probably exploded after answering the tests and you badly needed rest. Your head feels lightheaded as you travel your way back home and it's scary to think that the ‘floating’ feeling you're having would get you to the point you're physically lifted off the ground and your actual body dropped on this very sidewalk, turning you into a ghost after not having enough sleep.

You shook your head from that imagination and decided to focus on pushing the button to your floor. The ride in this small compartment felt like a minute and you were dozing off while standing. You're definitely not going to reach your bed and would immediately drop on your front door just to sleep. That's how exhausted you were after studying like hell for the past weeks.

As you walked down the hallway, you spotted a man walking just not far from you. He had streaking blonde hair, pushed nicely through the back. You're not the one to check out people like this but you couldn't help it when this person is oozing with attractiveness. You could only see his back, what more if you saw his face too? Your hand immediately covered half of your face, cheeks burning from embarrassment when you caught yourself checking the guy out. Is this still the effect of your intense studying?

The guy seems unfamiliar to you. Probably a guest who happened to be here or a new neighbor in the area. You wonder what apartment he's in... Your eyebrows raised when he stopped at the door just next to yours, which gave you time and subtly watched his face. Before unlocking his door, he must've noticed you standing just beside him causing the guy to whip his head to the side and stare at your surprised face.

"Cheol?" You gasped, finally had the chance to look at the blonde man up close. You barely even recognize him! Seungcheol was your next door neighbor for 2 years now. He was a year older than you and was your senior in your university until he graduated leaving you behind. You admit that you were a little sad when he graduated because you thought he was going to move out after graduation but surprisingly he didn't. He continued living next to you for the past year since his job is near this area. You would definitely miss the weekly food exchange with him if he really moved out.

"Y/N..." He chuckled, hand brushing against his nape as he momentarily avoided your eyes. You swore you saw him blushing but maybe it's the caffeine playing with your system. You opened your mouth to say something but you were preoccupied in wandering your gaze all over him. "You dyed your hair?" You asked and finally turned your body towards him. "Yeah. Figured I need something for a change." Seungcheol answered.

You watched him in awe. His complex became lighter and with the color of his hair, it made his face more noticeable and defined his jaw somehow. "Oh, wow. It suits you."

The little spark of liking him ignited once again. You did have a little crush on him for the first few months of knowing each other but you knew you never stood any chance and brushed that feeling away, sweeping it under the rag. You figured that your small feelings might ruin the friendship you both are developing at that time.

He smiled sheepishly and chuckled afterwards, clearly embarrassed by the sudden compliment. "Thanks. Just trying to impress somebody and hoping that they'll ask me on a date." Cheol joked. You laughed and opened your door as both of you had a small conversation.

Clearly you should've dumped your feelings down the drain instead of hiding it for you found them again at this very moment, causing your stomach to feel a little ticklish. A thought popped into your mind when you heard his response and you're second guessing yourself if you're going to say it or not but seeing his cute smile and with a hazy brain, your lips chose to open.

"Well I'm actually impressed. Can I take you out for a date, then?" You asked which caused him to be startled. Seungcheol grinned, covered his face, and was stuttering to say something. You only chuckled at his reaction. "Good night, Cheol." You bid before closing the door behind you. Oh, you definitely need some sleep right now.

[signanothername]

Been thinking about Mikey’s powers nonstop and I gotta actually talk about it or I’ll explode

Ok so one headcanon that most the fandom agrees on is that Mikey’s hands and arms gotten hurt after the events of the movie, which is a very logical conclusion to have

Here’s the thing tho

I don’t headcanon it myself, I’m more “Mikey’s hands are actually pretty ok after opening the portal to save Leo”

Why do I think that tho?

We see F!Mikey literally dying after opening a portal, and he’s a lot more powerful than his teen counterpart, so it’d be illogical to think that teen Mikey (who’s still a novice and a lot less powerful) to just be ok after opening a portal himself, and you’re absolutely right for thinking that

Just cause I think Mikey’s hands/arms were ok doesn’t mean I think Mikey was ok after the events of the movie, I just think that his powers affected him in a bit of a different light

Kay so one thing I wholeheartedly believe is that the turtles’ Ninpō is connected to one another, and in a way it protects them whenever they share a certain power beyond what they could handle

and that’s why it takes F!Mikey’s life but not teen Mikey, F!Mikey didn’t have the rest of his brothers to take a load of his powers and it’s obvious from how he looks a lot older than he should be that using his powers takes away from his life force

Junior asks Mikey to “help” Leo at the beginning of the movie, making me believe Mikey works as a healer for the resistance, and it makes sense considering medical supplies are hard to come by in the apocalypse, and the fact Mikey looks pretty old, I believe Mikey used his powers to heal people’s injuries and that in turn takes away from his own life

Back to my og point, teen Mikey’s hands start cracking exactly like F!Mikey’s hands, signaling he might meet the same fate, except in teen Mikey’s case, Don and Raph stand beside him, put their hands on each of his shoulders and let him know they’re with him

And we can see the cracks of his magic breaking away, after Raph and Don shared the load with him, what’s curious to me tho, is how Raph and Don’s arms start cracking like Mikey’s, but once they reach their shoulders (specifically the shot of Don’s shoulder mark that glows for a second) the cracks disappear

It’s like Don’s and Raph’s powers fought against Mikey’s powers in a way? Or maybe quite the opposite and simply worked with Mikey’s powers? Idk how to describe it so I’m leaving the screenshots man

Another thing I find really interesting, is that Mikey doesn’t seem to be struggling with keeping the portal open, he only struggled with opening it, so that means certain actions are easier than others, which makes a lot of sense

Opening a portal? Could kill him

Holding the portal open? Piece of cake

Closing the portal? Bitch please

F!Mikey didn’t have his older brothers to take a load of the damage that could come from his powers, hence why they take his life, and with the apocalypse, I wholeheartedly believe F!Mikey had to take some reckless decisions many times that affected his health and in turn made him weaker and weaker as time went on (physically speaking not mentally or magic wise)

Anyway, that’s why to me at least, the headcanon that teen Mikey’s hands end up damaged after the movie kinda misses the point of the entire scene with Raph and Don holding his shoulders

Then again to assume Mikey’s absolutely alright physically is just illogical, so to me I like to believe Mikey did suffer from physical consequences, but not his hands/arms

Considering that Mikey’s powers might be connected to his life force, I believe he could’ve suffered from really bad fatigue, maybe even fell ill for a few days or even weeks, it might’ve even affected his appetite and physical strength, making it a bit harder to be as energetic as he usually is and making it harder to Razzamatazz

And yes it might age him a lot faster than his brothers if he uses his powers relentlessly and recklessly

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[roadkillremi]

OKAY, so about Stu killing Tatum,

(I just saw the post abt someone asking why he would and thought maybe I should explain why I think he killed her. Of course, I'm not saying I'm right or y'all are wrong this makes more sense to me now that I think about it.)

So in the movie, the rules have to be one of the most important things in the movie, it's why Sidney lives, why the boys don't succeed, why Randy lives, and why Tatum dies.

So Sidney being the final girl cancels out any chance of her dying, therefore the boys pretending to be the final girls cannot happen, you can't fake it, so them dying is reasonable according to movie rules. (They killers don't always die, but instead of them coming back from the dead, people think it'd be cool to continue the legacy kinda of giving them the "forever" killer rule.)

Now, Randy gets to live and what does he say? "I've never been so happy to be a virgin." NOW, before I didn't really think about that until recently, and holy shit, Randy was supposed to die, but he didn't because the teens who go out and have sex usually

(Why I'm saying usually is 'cause it really depends on the situation, like in the original prom night, I forget the names, both the girl who was gonna have sex with her boyfriend and the two who did have sex get killed off.)

Are the ones who get killed off. Tatum is not a virgin besides Stu, her boyfriend, until near the end of the movie Sidney and Billy. AND THAT IS WHY, THE WHOLE POINT, THE VIRGIN USUALLY SURVIVES!!! It's such a petty reason, but I get it now? Kinda? Of course, Stu and Billy, being a little into horror movies probably try to live by these rules by heart,

one problem,

they don't think the rules apply to them and they forget some rules don't apply to the final girl. Stu definitely liked Tatum but also he's kind of out there, he doesn't seem really committed unless it's with Billy/The Plan or if he's around his friends. Of course, I never noticed the scene where he's him flirting with another girl before, but that's a good eye, and honestly, I feel like that would be to keep up with the act of "Yeah, I DUMP Casey, I'm so cool dude." Blah, blah, blah, and I think he likes Tatum 'cause honestly, Tatum reminds me of Billy if he was more sane and y'know a girl

(Sorry for dumping this on you, but once I thought it about, it clicked and I needed to explode about it. I was gonna do this ANON bc I was kinda scared I came off too pushy, but this is just what I think and I wanna know what other people think about this topic as well. Thanks)

This is not pushy at all, I love hearing about different perspectives and such.

I do agree with you. For example in the movie, Cabin in the Woods they explain the roles in friend groups.

The virgin, the jock, the geek, the whore, and the scholar.

Randy was the geek, Sydney was the virgin, and Tatum was the whore. Even the Actress who played her claimed she knew her character was made to die. I do agree that they also were like, "Yeah she's not our final girl".

In the end I don't think Stu was a good boyfriend.

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Broken Bloodlines Epilogue

——————————————————————————

and were to the end! an epilogue to this chaos!

wellp, time to work on arc 3 now! (that means Hiatus for a while)

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there; https://archiveofourown.org/works/44627188

—————————————————————————-

——————————————————————————

During the following three days I would have nightmares every time I went to sleep, so I ditched napping at the lookout rock like I usually did in favor of helping people during the day.

In the night though…

It wasn't pretty, while I didn't toss or turn like most people would have simply because not moving while sleeping had been so ingrained in my time as a street Bastard.

Being plagued with reruns of people dying in front of me wasn't nice, even if I hadn't known anyone who died, well Oakley kinda died?

That was another constant piece in those nightly horrors,  Oakley burning to nothing but ash, again and again and again.

After the first one I woke up to see Fable had moved to sleep beside me instead of the loft.

Seeing that calmed me at least somewhat from the rising panic and let me calm down a little.

Knowing Fable was there helped remind me that the battle was over and there was no danger anymore,  and that my friends were okay now, well, most of them at least.

Barsen’s Funeral had been crowded, very much so,  It almost looked like the entire castle was there.

Maybe it had been the entire castle, I didn't know many people still.

That was also another part of my nightmares, finding the corpse of Barsen.

Sometimes the nightmares drifted from what had actually happened to a kaleidoscope of horrifying injuries, corpses and a blood stained  riverbank that fell into itself.

After The third day of that repeating horror I went to Oakley,  just wanting something that would at least not make my entire nervous system feel like it was about to explode.

That and I wanted to ask for a compass, I'd trade it somehow.

Though of course I didn't tell Fable about the compass, as far as he knew I was just going to get a sleeping aid that wasn't alcohol.

“So you want something to stop the nightmares? 

AND a gift for your brother who is going to leave in like two days?”

I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck, yeah that might be asking a little much of him, but if he didn't want to help that was fine!

It was his stuff after all, and he had already helped a great deal with everything so he had no obligation to do more.

He whipped me gently on the head with some old scroll.

“Say that earlier next time! If he's leaving in two days you shoulda asked that sooner you dumbass! Now let's first see what I can give you for sleeping and then we can talk about the compass thing!”

I looked at him surprised, he really was an enigma, but at least he was still willing to help.

Even if I didn't quite always understand the things he criticized about what I did, and when I did them.

Though i could understand the time issue thing, i should have asked sooner but i didn't really get a chance to do so as Fable was around me a lot, and when he wasn't it was someone else.

In the end he gave me something that consisted of a thing called valerian root extract and was supposed to calm down.

After instructing me on how much to take and when we moved on to the compass gift idea.

“So what exactly do you want to do? Just give him a plain old compass?”

I shook my head at the winged man.

“I thought about painting it, like green with pastel blue flowers”

Oakley tilted his head in that Birdlike manner of his and then marched to one of the walls where three chests were set up next to each other.

“I'll look what i can find, as for you, you can go and get me an eighth of a kilo of copper, i'll need that later”

Copper? What? And what did he need that for?”

“Copper? Where am I supposed to get that?”

He just shrugged while halfway into one of the chests.

“Ask Rikaad, i bet the royal treasure chamber has at least some of it,  or go dig a mine and be really lucky”

I rolled my eyes at him even if he didn't see it.

“Alright ill as Rikaad, if he says no i'll ask for a shovel instead”

Finding Rikaad was easy, he was still busy with paperwork,  paperwork that at least had been somewhat sorted now.

After explaining what I needed it for he readily gave me what I needed, saying something along the lines of it being the least he could give me after I helped him so much.

I confusedly hid it in one of my pockets, at least I knew for a fact Rikaad would keep his mouth shut about the surprise.

Going back to Oakley I handed him the copper which was a little more than he needed but whatever.

Then he told me to look at the table and pick a design.

While I was gone he had apparently whipped up ten different designs for how to paint the compass.

From all the flowers depicted I only recognized two, a Blue Flax flower and Forget me not.

I ended up choosing the forget me not design, i liked the shape of them a little more.

Also, Forget me not as in forget me not after you leave.

Then he kicked me out and told me to come back after dinner time.

What the fuck.

Things really never made sense if Oakley was involved,  Then again he was some sort of Semi immortal magic wielder who just didn't use his powers very much.

Why the hell was I even questioning what he did anymore? 

Either it made sense or it didn't but that wasn't my problem.

The rest of the day was pleasantly boring. 

We helped rebuild a barnhouse that had gotten hit by a trebuchet and I had to heave a new support beam two stories up while in Ardua form.

I still didn't dare go around as a Giant simply because I knew that would scare a lot of people.

Fable was also there and helped,  by making more of those light bubbles so we could work on the roof even as the sunlight didn't quite reach that side of the barn.

That of course derailed the entire thing for a good hour simply because people wanted to see an Elf perform magic.

I was secretly very glad a lot of guards had come with us,  including Nea who proceeded to whack anyone who even looked mean at me or Fable with a willow stick.

Those hurt a lot, I knew from experience.

She also informed everyone she could that the Fae ban wasn't really in place anymore and the rest was just paperwork waiting for approval.

I did appreciate her even if she was needlessly violent a good part of the time.

After the sun was about to begin to set we headed back home and ate some sort of potato mash thing with stew.

Walking back to the shed I told Fable to go ahead and that I wanted to ask Oakley again on how much of that valerian stuff to take just to be sure and not overdose or something.

That was only partially true,  I would ask him again while I was there just to be safe of course.

But the actual reason for going there was something else entirely.

I really hoped Oakley was good at painting metal,  he was on paper sure, but metal was a little different than that.

Knocking carefully on the door so as not to startle him I patiently waited till he opened it and beckoned me inside.

Looking around I saw that he had shoved almost everything off the table in the middle of the room, literally, there was stuff in a heap on the floor.

The only thing still on it was a piece of fabric that clearly had something underneath it.

I could guess what that was, also Oakley really liked theatrics huh.

Eh, if he wanted to he could, it wasn't bothering anyone.

He walked over and around the table to stand behind it.

Then with a dramatic swing of his wing arm ripped the cloth from it.

“Tadaa!”

I stared at what Oakley had done with the compass, when he said he needed the copper I hadn't expected him to actually SCULPT with it!

Yes, Sculpt, on the compass he added leaves and flowers like I had asked for, but not only painted like I had thought.

The three dimensional ornaments looked beautiful and whatever paint Oakley got completely masked any trace of metal.

“You good? Or did your brain stop working?”

I blinked and looked back at oakley.

“Uh, i really thought you'd just paint it and not,  I don't even know how to describe it but I love it!”

It really was beautiful, and each of the forget me not was painted with an ethereal sort of shading.

“Yeah i can tell, your pupils are big”

“What?”

I looked at Oakley confused at the weird statement.

“Oh didn't you know? When people look at something they like,  their pupils get bigger! Quite an endearing thing really!”

I hadn't known that, well i doubted that was common knowledge or else people would fight about that as well.

“Uh well then i don't even have to say anything huh?

But really, thank you so much!”

I meant it, he had no reason to help me,  but he always did anyway even if i had no idea why.

He nabbed it from the Table and shoved it into my hands.

“Yeah yeah, you owe me a favor! 

Now scram i need to pile my stuff back on the table!”

I laughed a little at his clearly theatrical grumpiness.

It was very clear he didn't intend anything mean about that.

“I will, i will don't worry, but uh just to be sure,  and so I have something I can tell Fable, 

how much of the Valerian thing am I supposed to be taking?”

He flapped his three fingers against his forehead for a moment before telling me and then shoving me out of the door.

Oakley really was an enigma sometimes, but a likable one.

So now it was time to walk back to the castle in the dark.

I hated that part, I was fine with darkness but I wasn't exactly fond of being alone outside while there could be who knew what.

Luckily after only a few paces I heard a familiar meow and the cat appeared.

She walked all the way back with me and then kept walking in the direction of the kitchen.

I briefly wondered if she just didn't want to walk alone as well.

Making sure to hide the compass properly on myself before stepping inside, I quietly opened the door.

Slinking in, I closed it as silently as I could and walked over to the corner with my stuff.

Fable seemed to be already asleep so I went quietly to avoid waking him up.

Taking off my shoes I also hid the compass under some freshly washed spare shirts, to avoid it getting scratched I put it on the second last one and then put the other, identical, shirts back over it.

There, now there wouldn't even be a suspicious sound should I drag the cloth a bit too much while taking a new one.

Yeah that would work, and tomorrow I'd get a nice wrapping for it and the day after that I'd give it to Fable.

Two days, well technically only one and maybe a half,  and then he would leave.

I wasn't exactly happy about that,  In the past week I had grown to really like him, sure he was my brother but that didn't set in stone that we would get along.

But we did get along great actually,  especially now that he had control over his own brain again.

But I guess he was right, if he felt like he couldn't figure out what type of person he was here in Kamerasca then staying didn't make much sense.

I'd just wish he'd at least stayed for a month instead of a week.

Taking the Valerian stuff Oakley gave me and checking twice that i got the right measurement in the cup i drank it like i had seen people do shots at the bars in the city.

Surprisingly it didn't taste as awful as I had thought,  but it still wasn't on my list of liked things.

Shifting back to Ardua form I yanked some of the blankets that were strewn about closer to me and settled down to sleep.

The stuff Oakley gave me actually worked, there still were some nightmares but not as many and definitely not as severe as before.

What a relief.

The next morning I felt at least a little bit well rested so while it wasn't a hundred percent effective it did help a lot already.

The day was then over way too fast for my liking,  but I did spend the remaining time with Fable and Robin.

Arthur and Rikaad were busy with paperwork again.

During the day I also managed to get a pretty little bag in a lovely red hue.

This would be perfect for the compass!

And it was, it fit perfectly inside of it and I tied it with a neat little bow while Fable got comfy on the loft for one last time.

And way too soon the day of departure had come.

I took the hidden gift out of its stash and put it in my pocket to give it to him later.

Fable himself was currently in the Kitchen getting provisions and I didn't doubt that the kitchen staff would shove at least some sweets into his hands.

Well, this was it, Fable was going to leave.

He promised not to go without saying bye to everyone so he would wait on the other side of the protective wall of the castle.

At this point he had to be there now so I'd better hurry along.

It would feel weird to have the shed to myself again, 

though I didn't doubt that Robin would stay overnight a lot of the time.

The walk over to the gate felt weirdly long,  even though it wasn't actually that far from my place.

The oversized entrance itself was wide open, allowing for easier back and forth as I saw some other people talk to Fable.

Including Nea and Norrin as well as Arthur who hadn't really liked him at the start.

Nice to see that changed enough for Arthur to come say something as well.

Walking through the gate I was joined by Robin who sprinted after me and only narrowly avoided collision.

We then turned to Fable, who was standing in the sunlight and got a ‘friendly’ shoulder punch from Nea.

Nea then left, walking past us and waving at him while dragging a not so happy looking Norrin with her.

So that left only me Robin and Arthur to speak with Fable.

My mind blanked, what could I say?

Luckily I was given a little bit of time to think of something as first Arthur said his grumpy goodbyes and then Robin his more positive ones.

They both left then to give us some space.

“I- uh, i got something for you before leave”

I pulled the little red bag out of my pocket and held it out for him.

He carefully took it and started untying the string with only barely hidden curiosity.

“I know it's not a lot but i thought it would be nice to give you something to remember me by, even if that sounds a bit cliche”

Man i sounded absolutely stupid, this was the last time i would be able to talk to him! And I was butchering it!

Just like the day he appeared at the castle, heh.

By now he had managed to open the clumsily tied bag and pulled out the compass.

He held it like a coin in his fingers and turned it so the sun shone on every facet.

For a split second I saw his pupils get bigger, and if Oakley was right, which he surely was, Fable liked what he saw.

He turned to me.

“This is beautiful, how did you get your hands on this?

The only other compass I have is old and cracked, which is why I navigate by stars most of the time.

But I can't exactly do that at day or when the weather is bad,  so this is perfect.

Thank you”

He moved a step forward and hugged me, I immediately hugged back, almost not wanting to let go as that meant he would leave.

But there was no way I could hold on forever so eventually I let go.

I was sure Fable was about to turn away and walk off when he got distracted by a mewling sound.

The cat! What the hell?

Fable turned the other way again and bent down to pet her.

“Hello Gloxinia, here to wish me goodbye too?”

What.

Don't tell me he actually managed to find a name the cat liked.

“You named her??? Wait, how did you find a name she liked,  and what does Gloxinia even mean?”

Fable stood up again, this time holding the cat, and looked at me.

“One time I was reading a botany book and the cat decided to sit on top of the pages, a page depicting a flower whose name is also Gloxinia.

So i just tried to call her that and it worked”

I was done trying to understand anything pertaining to cat,  and Oakley, forever now.

Why even try when the answer just made it more confusing.

Fable put the cat- Gloxinia on the ground again and turned to face me.

“Well, i cant say ive ever been good at saying goodbyes,  so i guess, this is it?”

At least I wasn't the only awkward one here.

“I guess so? I'm not good at this either but I do wish you luck and safe travels! And if you get the chance, try to write me a letter?”

He nodded.

“Of course, i'll even try to send some souvenirs,  though i cant promise they wont get stolen during the delivery”

That sounded nice, just not the stealing part.

I was about to say something more when I heard someone shout from up above.

Looking up I saw Oakley, well who else did I know that could fly?

He landed a few feet away from us to avoid blasting us with the dust his wings disturbed.

“Wait just one second! I got something for the both of you! 

And I assure you you'll find it highly practical!”

What was he talking about? Well he'd say that in a minute but it probably had to do with whatever was in the big satchel at his side.

He walked the few feet left towards us and pulled out two nearly identical books.

The only difference between the two was that one was decorated with blood red poppies and the other one with sunshine yellow Dandelions.

I could guess that one was for me and one for Fable.

I was proven right when Oakley shoved the one decorated with poppies into my hands and the other one into Fables.

I curiously opened the book only to find that all of the pages were empty.

I looked confused to Oakley who by now had fished a feather and some ink out of the satchel.

“Thanks? I think, what are these for?”

Oakley just tilted his head to the side like an owl.

“Well if you open the first empty page of both of your Logos books i can show you!”

Logos book? Was this something magical? 

I still did as he said though, and so did Fable.

He dipped the sharp end of the feather into the ink and then wrote in simple letters hello in the middle of my book.

I was confused for a second before I noticed that the words had appeared on Fables pages as well.

Ohhh so definitely magic!

Wait if what was written in my book showed up in his then he didn't even have to send a letter! He could just write to me using these books!

“Oakley, this is genius! Thank you so much!”

Fable also agreed with me though he did have one question about it.

“What happens when the books are full? 

And we don't have any empty pages left?”

That was a very good question actually, would he have to come back from who knew where to get a new one?

Oakley gently took Fable's book again,  and then poured some of the ink all over the page.

Of course it appeared in my book too and both of us exclaimed in confusion.

Oakley just waved that off.

“Relax, i'm just gonna show you what to do when you ant to get rid of the old writings”

Oh, that made a lot more sense.

He closed the book and held it over the inkpot again who he had wrapped into his tail to free his hands.

Then he ran his hand along the spine of the book and tapped the cover twice.

All of the previously spilled ink dripped out into the inkpot and when he opened the pages they were empty once again.

Oakley really was a master at magic, or at the very least really creative with it.

“Ohhh, that's actually awesome! And you get the ink back as well!”

Though various kinds of Ink might mix weirdly.

The winged man nodded.

“Yes! Just don't hold it over yourself while doing that or you're gonna stain your stuff!”

Well that one was rather obvious.

“Thank you so much Oakley! 

I think that's the most useful thing I've ever been given!”

It was, also i never received that many gifts anyway so that wasn't hard to do.

Fable nodded as well.

“That will make communicating a lot easier, thank you”

Oakley made a weird salute and then flapped up into the sky once again.

“Well, see ya sometime I hope! And good journey you pale Elfling!”

With those words he was gone, he really was extra sometimes.

So now we were alone again.

What now? 

He turned to me.

“Is anyone else planning on randomly appearing?”

“Not that i know, but Oakley is Oakley so he was probably the only one”

At least I hoped so,  this had completely derailed what we were actually doing.

To be fair whatever that was it was awkward as hell.

Since I really doubted anyone else was going to appear that meant Fable was going to leave now.

Like right now right now.

“Well, i wish you the best on your journey,  and that you find whatever you are looking for”

There wasn't much to say anymore, and even if we forgot something we now had the books so it wasn't a problem.

He smiled, for real this time.

Slightly crooked with his teeth partially showing.

He hugged me again and for a moment we both just froze.

He squeezed me for a moment, which put my ear next to his mouth, And then he whispered in my ear.

“My actual name is Andariel”

Just that and nothing more, but my eyes went wide at the sign of trust he had just given me.

For a true member of the Feyfolk do not give their names out lightly, if at all.

But he trusted me enough to tell me his real name, one I knew I'd never speak out loud or write down.

For a single moment i squeezed back, vowing silently to never ever tell anyone what He had just told me.

“Thank you for trusting me, i will keep my lips sealed about it forever”

Was all i could say as my mind blanked otherwise from this immense show of absolute trust.

He stopped squeezing me so hard, but still didn't let go yet.

“I'm going to miss you little brother”

“So do i, but at least we now have those Logos books as Oakley called them”

“That man is definitely not sane”

I couldn't agree more with that, but Oakley was still an alright, 

if sometimes over the top guy.

I just nodded into his shoulder and he let go for one last time.

“I promise when i found what i'm looking for i'll come back here to visit”

That sounded nice, and until then we had the books.

I continued to stand there till long after Fable had disappeared behind the treeline and it started to get dark.

I stood there long enough for Robin to have to come and drag me back to the shed.

When I told him Fable had successfully named the cat he pouted.

But he did like the name she had been given.

It was weird to be alone in the shed, thus far almost always someone had been here, mostly Robin or Fable.

But now it was silent, and that didn't help with the nightmares.

Despite the stuff from Oakley they came back to haunt me worse than the previous nights.

A knock on the door woke me up.

“Uhh‽ whasgoin on?”

There was another knock on the door, a much more timid one this time.

Since I was in the Ardua form I couldn't really open the door, and I didn't feel like shifting.

“S’not locked”

I yawned and the door slowly opened to reveal a familiar redhead.

“...umm i just…i dunno make sure you're okay? Now that Fable is gone”

It didn't sound like that's what he originally came here for but it was appreciated nonetheless.

“mhm , im fine, space just feels empty now”

It did, and it was strangely quiet, not sure if I liked that any.

Robin just stood there awkwardly and fiddled with his nails.

“Don't keep standing in the doorway,  c'mere and tell me why you're actually up this late”

He looked to the ground for a second and then closed the door behind him before making his way over to me.

He flopped against my side face first and stayed like that for a few seconds before he answered.

“I had a nightmare”

It was quiet and muffled against my fur but still plenty understandable.

Ah, so that's why.

Well, misery loves company or however that saying goes.

“You're not the only one, you actually woke me up from one”

He looked at me.

“I did? Umm well, can I stay here? Just- just till tomorrow?”

“Sure! I don't mind, it's a bit too quiet now anyway”

He clambered over to my head and settled in the bend of my arm,  like he'd done many times before.

I wouldn't ask what the nightmare was about, but I could guess.

Since he had been at the castle during the battle the only really horrible thing he had seen was Barsens corpse.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it had been that.

“Thank you”

He curled up where he was and I settled down as well.

It wasn't that much later when I heard quiet sniffling.

Looking at the redhead I could see he had curled up as small as he possibly could and was almost silently crying.

“...I miss him, why'd he have to go like that? 

He didn't even say what he was gonna do.

And who's gonna take care of the plants now?”

He mumbled into the fur of my arm.

So I had been right then, it was about Barsen.

“I miss him too, i think everyone does, as for the plants, i don't know”

At some point a new gardener would be hired,  had to be as everything would go unkempt and wild otherwise.

Robin shuffled closer to where my shoulder connected with my neck and tried to burrow himself in there.

“...i don't wanna sleep, what if i get more nightmares?”

I could understand that, before I asked Oakley for help I had trouble not just staying awake as well.

“I don't think you'll have nightmares every time you'll sleep,  but we could go ask Oakley for help tomorrow?

He did help me with that so i'm sure he'll find something”

I tried to reassure him.

He just tried to burrow even deeper into my mane as if it was a forcefield that would keep bad dreams away.

“It's too quiet, in my room i mean, i'm used to have other people around me when i sleep and now everytime i wake up and it's silent i have a moment of horror where i think everyone else in the room is dead”

Oh, so it wasn't only the nightmares.

Right, he'd lived in the dorms of the Guard academy which he shared with Rikaad and Arthur.

It was actually very unlikely he'd ever been alone for so long so I could imagine having the quiet be weird to him.

“Well, now that's Fable not here anymore you could just have the loft? 

I don't really use it aside from looking out the window when it rains”

That and then maybe my own nightmares would also get better, even if just to have the reassurance that my friends are alive and well.

“...You sure? It's your place”

I nodded.

“Yeah, now that Fable’s gone it's gonna be lonely so i wont mind don't worry”

He hmm-ed and detangled himself only a little from my mane.

“Okay, … hey  can you uhh, i don't wanna be- im cold and i don't want to wake up to silence again, so could you-?”

The sentence was horribly jumbled and it took my tired brain a good bit to catch on,  well while I tried to decipher what he said he did move one of his hands to softly poke the corner of my mouth,  the only thing he could reach from where he was.

Ah, so like after the celebration party or during the thunderstorm then.

“Like during the storm? But only if you're sure”

He nodded, having moved to now be more next to my head.

“Mhm, i can hear your heart like that so i know i wont wake up thinking people died again”

That did make some sense in an admittedly weird way.

If he was tucked away like that there would be no way for him to wake up alone.

“Alright, shoes off though who knows what you stepped in”

He obliged and tossed them towards the door where they landed in the middle of the floor two meters apart from each other.

Yeah, sure, that worked, but I wasn't gonna put them away now he could do that himself tomorrow.

“Alright then, ready?”

I asked him tiredly and he nodded while tripping over himself to get more in front of me instead of next to my shoulder.

I bent down and took his entire upper half into my mouth before he even had a chance to completely right himself up again.

He seemed confused for half a second but then gave an amused sound.

It was late and I didn't want to take forever so I quickly tilted my head back a little and let the ginger slide all the way in.

I paused for a moment in case of the small chance that he didn't want to anymore.

No protest came which didn't surprise me since he was always strangely okay with this.

Well i was partly to blame considering i kept enabling him,  but as long as he didn't get the same idea should he ever stand in front of a Dragon or whatever it was fine.

I softly swallowed and he slid halfway into my throat.

For a moment he made a strange movement and I stopped confusedly.

But after a second I noticed he was not in distress and instead was trying to tickle me,  probably as revenge for nabbing him up from the floor like that.

It was largely ineffective, if anything it just felt a little funny, so I swallowed again and he was now completely squished into my throat.

Another swallow and he was fully inside the storage pouch where he slipped around a bit to get upright again.

“Are you alright?”

He stopped moving for a moment.

“Hm? Yeah i'm fine, a little upside down, but-  uhh thank you,  i just- i didn't want to be alone so thanks”

I could practically see in my mind how he was fiddling awkwardly with his hands as he said that, but it was nice to know he was alright.

Maybe now we could both get some sleep without any unwanted disturbances.

“Good to hear, I think we should both sleep now,  if anythings wrong you can just wake me okay?”

He sleepily agreed after turning ‘upright’ and then settled down.

He must have been really tired, well so was i.

Laying down and using the arm without the bracelet as a pillow I closed my eyes.

Shortly before falling asleep I hear Robin mumble something that I could just barely translate to ‘you're warm’ before I joined the dreaming world.

For the first time since the battle there were no nightmares as I slept, 

just a small and protective warmth.

———————————————————————

PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

ARC 3

[anayaahwrites]

KOT Ficlet #7 (Kudou Chika/Houzuki Satowa)

The post chapter 110 ficlet I had promised ;)

Since I'm a little late, this is set in a hotel they're staying at for nationals.

This is more of an excuse to write them as hormonal teenagers because I can't do that in my longfic lmao.

⚠️: This is soft PwP majorly, so here's your rating warning! (Rated E for Explicit). Enjoy!

The world is conspiring against her today.

Satowa huffs, standing before the locked door of her room at seven in the evening, jiggling the doorknob at the tiniest hope of it unlocking itself somehow. 

But no, it's bolted shut with no give, and the master key was marvelously not available either. Granted, it was her fault. She was certain she knew Hiro’s sleep pattern well enough to predict when the girl would awaken, hence decided to leave her pair of keys in their shared room.

 She was evidently wrong. Satowa sighs, resigning to sit herself beside the door till she thought of something else. Not like she didn’t have enough of a jungle gym in her brain already.

It had been two weeks since they.... confessed which is putting it tamely given how they both yelled their feelings out to each other a day apart.

 Satowa had expected nothing in return. In that moment, she only remembers seeing red—when Chika bowed his head. She thought a hug was simple enough, something she could explain away later easily—it was a white lie, she was having a sunstroke, whatever works.

 But when forced to confess, Satowa had never fathomed his arms wrapping around her, head softly lying against her shoulder. She had never fathomed a reply—the same as hers, with a wide grin across his face—only the day after. 

 But the progression of events had led to Satowa wanting something more the day after that, like a monkey in an experiment being psychologically wired to demand more candy.

 She sighs, resting her head between her knees. Because nothing came. The next day, the day after the next. Even almost two weeks later, they were perfectly normal around each other. Something had changed in Chika, though. He'd become more... mature. His usually fiery eyes were more relaxed, a laid back light in them that watched her carefully, every hour of everyday. 

 Unsurprisingly, she wasn't the only girl to notice this change. Fifty percent of the school population now saw him, more than ever, as a boy put through horrible circumstances that he never deserved. Some of them cried and bought him lunches and chocolates as an apology for treating him like a criminal. 

 She was happy for him, when he shyly took their bargain. She really was. 

 Until it somehow turned into an 'everyday-is-valentines-day' fiesta and Chika's locker was exploding with gifts round the clock. That was a bit much.

 And Satowa had predicted him to yell at them to stop—for Christ's sake—throwing food his way as if he were a dying fish. The old Chika would do that. 

New Chika, however, simply pursed his lips, chucked the contents of his locker into a bag and offered it to everyone in the club later, insisting they take it home and not eat it here so as to not hurt anyone that the intended recipient wasn't the one taking them.

Satowa never accepts any, feeling a little jaded. “I don’t like sweet things,” is her excuse.

He'd told her he loved her back and for a while, she thought he did. But her confidence began to falter, now that the small smiles usually sent her way were public property. 

Maybe he really did love her as a friend and she misunderstood his kindness.

She buries her head deeper into her knees, groaning in irritation. The sound of jingling keys makes her raise her head in relief. Hiro-senpai you savior—

"What...." He eyes her, confused.

 "Uh...” Oh, great. Of all the people. "Locked my keys in the room." she smiles awkwardly.

 "The other pair?"

 "Hiro-senpai has it. She isn't in."

 She eyes her watch. Quarter past Seven. Judging by the breathless huffing, he was returning from an evening run. He wipes the sweat off his brow in a way Satowa thinks Kudou doesn't know is so scandalous.

 "Have you seen the practice room downstairs?"

 She would have, if her brain wasn't so full of him.

 "Wanna check it out now? Since you have time to kill?"

 "Why?" She hadn't meant to ask that out loud, but now that it was out of her mouth, she was curious.

 He furrows his brows. "Aren't you supposed to ask me where at this point?"

 "No," She reiterates, "I'm more interested in why."

 Instead of answering her directly, he rattles the keys in her face. "I'd booked it an hour ago. Thought I'd ask glasses, but he's out so..."

 Ah, so that’s where Hiro was. Satowa squints, repeating, "So?"

 "So," he ruffles his hair. "Accompany me?"

 She didn’t need to be told twice.

 While Chika busies himself in laying down the Kotos, something he insisted to do for her whenever he was around because 'You weigh half of it and I'd know since I've carried you before.'

 (She'd never understood how he suddenly was completely comfortable saying the weirdest things.) 

 "No, really," She tries, again. "Why?"

 He barely looks over his shoulder to shoot her a sheepish glare, playing with the hem of the Koto cover, and staying rooted to his spot. 

 “In case you decided to come with somebody else.”

 "Somebody else..." She narrows her eyes. "Hiro-senpai?"

 He scratches his neck, mumbling, "That guy's here..."

 "I'm going to need more description than that."

 "The flashy guy," he waves it off, as if he doesn't want to say it. "The one from Ichiei. The one that..." He exhales loudly. "The one that hugged you."

 She frowns, a little offended, "I'm pretty sure I can defend myself with a kick to the groin. I don't need you to protect me."

 "What? No? No!" He defends. "It's not that he'd do anything to you. If anything, I know how much your kicks hurt. I just...” He releases an exhausted sigh. "I don't think you realizes how much attention your—" He scans her frame and averts his gaze, panicked. “you gather."

 "I gather attention?” She looks appalled. "Yes, because I'm the person girls are flocking around like felines high on catnip."

 He quirks an eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

 She's silent for a second. Then, "No." 

 "Are you sure?"

 "Positive."

 "I hope you know you look pissed."

 "That's just my face."

 His lips twitch into a teasing grin but he ultimately drops the topic. 

 Satowa hmphs as he lays the Koto before her. She places her fingers gingerly over the strings, humming a familiar tune.

 "That's not 'I'."

 "No, it's not, " She replies, lightly thrumming the notes. “It’s a piece I play when I don't feel great."

 "So you are pissed."

 She rolls her eyes.

 “At me?" He hazards a guess. 

 "Yes,” She glares at him, pressing down on the first note to drown both their voices out. "And no."

 When music fills the air, Chika sits before her in comfortable silence, listening to her express whatever it was she wanted to. The piece is a high pitched screech in comparison to Satowa's usual delicate notes, bordering between a sacrificial satanic ceremony organ and a frustrated banshee wail. 

It helps her channel all her grievances in one place, in a matter of minutes. At some point she forgets Chika is in the room but it doesn't matter because he's in every thought she has. 

His voice. His smell. His skin.

Somewhere in between, it transforms her music, into a soft vibrato of a ballroom waltz, like the push and pull of hands and mingling of bodies. She lets the sound calm her nerves. Remind her focus right now should be music and nothing else, like it has always been. One up or down should change nothing between them. 

She was dealing with it for all this time, she could sustain another few years if Satowa put her mind to it. 

"That...”  His voice cuts through her thoughts. "That sounded pained."

She nods.

"Uh... Are you okay?"

There were many answers to this question. She had done a lot of thinking in the past few days of how to approach the topic of... them. Even saying that sounded strange to her ears. 

He edges closer. "Hou—"

"No," She replies. Then a heartbeat later, "No. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

She nods her denial.

"Okay. Okay, that’s fine.”  He says, perplexed. "Let's begin with what's bothering you?"

Mostly you. 

When she doesn't reply, he does actually come closer to where she sits.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me, Houzuki."

She looks at him over wet eyelashes, horrified at how her emotions were really out of control today. She swipes a hand across her eyes and avoids his concerned gaze. 

"I have a lot of things to think about." And you being unaware of my feelings or actively ignoring them really isn't helping. 

"That's a good start. Things like...?"

"Like how you're so casually avoiding everything that happened a mere two weeks ago." Before her mind catches up with her mouth, the words have been said and all she can do is slam a hand flush against her lips and hope to disappear into oblivion. 

The idea of Seppuku sounded very tempting right about now.

"I'm not."

"Not what?" She asks. 

"Not avoiding what happened that day,” He purses his lips. "I can't even if I want to."

She suddenly feels a whole lot more vulnerable, kneading fists into her lap. Oh great, she'd made everything even more awkward than it already was. He wasn't even looking at her. 

"Actually forget what I just said. I'm tired—" This is exactly why I needed alone time. "—with nationals coming and all."

"That's why I didn't mention it." He mumbles. 

"Mention what."

"That day... The confession..... Us. With nationals coming up, you'd want to focus on this. I know how passionate you are,”  His gaze softens. "I've always loved that about you."

The word sends a pleasant tingle down her spine. Us. We. Him and me. Love—

"You mean as a friend?"

"What?"

"Love me,” She repeats robotically. "As a friend."

He raises a brow, amused. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He sighs, “Tetsuki, Glasses. Gosh, even Isaki." 

Satowa chokes on air. "I-Isaki-san knows?" 

"You're lucky you didn't have to answer her questions." His expression looks genuinely pained.

Satowa giggles at the image of Chika smothered by Isaki's bear hugs. His grin widens near impossibly at her. "It's been a while since you smiled normally at me. I've missed it."

"You've had your fair share of beautiful smiles, I think." The visual of girls batting their eyelashes at him turns her mouth sour. Chika is beautiful. She doesn't deserve him. "Enough for at least a decade."

"They aren't you.”

"No. They're better than me."

He looks at her, mouth hanging open like his jaw had unscrewed itself. "Do you genuinely believe that?"

She does. Satowa belonged from a boring world. She lived a mundane life; eating, practicing, sleeping, waking up, practicing, repeat. And Chika contrasted her completely, all wide amber eyes with an adventurous gleam in them.

She loved them so much, it was driving her crazy. And lately her obsession had gotten worse, not that she'd ever admit to it. 

"Did I make you feel that way..?" She wants to wipe the hurt off his face. Satowa rises off the floor, dusting her skirt off. 

I don't deserve you. 

"Don't pity me. I didn't want to push my feelings on you, either way. You saying I love you back there really saved me from the embarrassment. Thank you."

His jaw goes slack. His gaze remained glued to the floor as if it would turn to lava any minute.

He collects himself with a deep breath. "What about my behavior made you think I don't return your feelings?"

She doesn't understand the question. Because though Satowa had basically confessed her undying love and desire to stay by his side forever, she had not for once considered him feeling the same. 

So she shrugs, awkwardly. "I'm not worth the effort."

When his gaze lifts off the floor to meet hers, a chill runs up her spine. He looks conflicted, rubbing his neck in consideration . And somehow that makes her want to kiss him so bad her toes curl into themselves.

"You're not... worth the effort...” He reiterates, incredulous.

"Look I'm sorry for how things turned out,” She says, frantically trying to defuse the situation. "I can be a bullhead and say unnecessary things and this wasn't one of my brightest moments. So let's just forget this ever happened? Yeah?"

"How about no?” He replies, blankly. "I want to know what about that day and what the fuck about my confession made you think I haven't been in love with you for the longest time?"

"Look again, no need to—"

"No, you listen," He says, hovering dangerously close to her face, face dark with anger. “I meant what I said that day. I love you. Dammit—I ran back all the way because I was jealous out of my mind with scenarios of someone else finding you play, plus this room is soundproof and they could take advantage of that—like some petty idiot and here you are—"

"You what?” She asks, stunned. 

"—convincing me not to love you after you confessed first, by the way. You said you loved me—"

"Kudou...”

"No. Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, hot with anger. Well, hot in more ways than one. "You taught me that there was good in me, that I was redeemable in some way. Even though I've hurt people. I nearly killed Grandpa. "

"You know you didn't do it.” She consoles. 

 "Not until you came around, no. “He shakes his head. “Not until that day when you told me you wanted me to be happy, to not be hurt, to cherish me. Did the thought never cross your mind that maybe I felt the same?"

 She stares at him, blinking. No. It really hadn't because what really was lovable about her? She was a taciturn, obsessed Koto player that cared little outside of her small world.

Why would he—why would anyone love her?

"Oh my God,” He whispers. "You really didn't."

Satowa doesn't reply, she just feels small in front of his large frame towering over her.

"Th-that's because there's nothing you could see in me worth your while! I'm average looking at best, good at nothing except the instrument I've played since I was born. I haven't been on dates, I haven't...k-kissed... "

"Houzu—"

"I'm boring and dull and there's so many better people you could be spending time with because you're amazing and you're way too good looking to be wasting your time on me—"

"Houzuki listen to m—"

"And all these feelings you're feeling are temporary, just because I saved you. Maybe you're grateful for what I said—"

"Satowa."

She stills, both to the deep tone of his voice and the hand gripping her wrist firmly. Her vision goes all blurry; she can't really see him or anything around them, only feel his thumb stroking her palm in a continuous rhythm. 

"I'm sorry,” He says, finally. "I'm sorry I had no idea you've been feeling insecure this whole time. God, I really have my head way up my ass like Tetsuki says."

She laughs despite herself. She feels his hold tighten. 

"I never could imagine for a second that someone as perfect as you could feel this way."

“P-perfect?” 

"You've always been so balanced and confident, I thought I was the only one weighing my self-worth against your standards. I never felt enough for you because you're... You know, you; beautiful, brilliant, talented... I've been so stupid."

She purses her lips. "I'm really not what you make me out to be."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But does it really matter?" She looks up though her eyes felt like she'd doused them in vinegar. "You said you love me. And I definitely love you—no questions asked. Is that not enough for us both?"

"I....” She whispers. "You're right.... It should be."

He releases a long sigh. "So we've finally reached a conclusion?"

"I think.”

"That we may feel mutually undeserving but we still love each other and there's nothing we can do about that?"

"That sounds very embarrassing,” She hides her blush. "But yes."

"Okay. Good. Finally. "

The fingers curled around her wrist make Satowa feel something in the pit of her stomach, pulsating within as he draws closer into her space.

He wraps an arm around her waist, the other leaving her wrist to explore all the other places they could be. Up her arm, her shoulder, the crook of her neck, the flowing strands of her hair.

Satowa's lids drop, mouth opening in a small exhale. "What was that about the soundproof room?"

It's like her words flip a switch.

Instantly, he dives down to capture her lips, pulling her into him. She's so small in his arms, feeling the full height of him as if for the first time. Sensing her discomfort, he puts hands under her thighs, grabbing as she hops off the floor and into his grasp, ankles hooking behind his waist.

 "Jesus," he whispers, kissing down her neck like he'd devour her. "How are you so beautiful?"

She throws her head back, letting him nip at her skin. She'll be bruised by tomorrow, but nothing Hiro’s concealer can't hide. "I'm not..." She arches her back when his hands wander a little lower.

"Let me show you," he drawls, kissing her jaw up to her lips. "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me."

Satowa's suddenly too warm in her blouse, holding her breath as the buttons fall open and his hands traverse inside, tracing the lines of her body. His palms are warm, thumb stroking the underside of her breast, raising goose bumps wherever he touches.

Her arms circle around his neck to sink into his hair, drawing him closer. Kudou walks them to a mahogany desk in the room, putting her carefully down as if she were spun of glass.

He breaks away to look into her eyes tentatively. Satowa whines, scrunching her face to appear as displeased as she feels. He laughs, pinching her nose. His finger moves over her features, swiping against her lips, her chin, her throat, her breast, her stomach.

Satowa's breath hitches in her throat.

Kudou looks at her through hooded eyelids. "Tell me to stop and I will," he says, turning his palm downward, pushing under the belt of her skirt. The expanse of his hand is the entire size of her waist; God, he's so large it's doing things to her. Satowa closes her eyes.

He cups her cheek with the other hand, gently lifting her chin to his gaze. “I need an answer."

She opens her mouth, tried to give him a verbal answer. When one finger touches her swollen lips, she can only manage a strangled moan before nodding furiously.

He goes painfully slow. So slow, that Satowa has to move herself to let him know she's strong enough to handle it. He doesn't relent.

"Kudou," she groans, opening her legs wider for him. "God, please I'm going to lose it."

Sensing her urgency, he puts another finger in. Satowa gasps, arching her back till she almost hits the desk. Kudou catches her in time, cradling her head softly.

He pumps slowly, letting the rhythm build within her. It's too much stimulation for her and Satowa bites back the sound threatening to rip its way out her throat.

He drags her arm away, shaking his head solemnly at her. "I want to hear you." He quickens his pace, drawing a shocked gasp from the girl. "I want to know what I'm doing to you."

"Please, please I'm —" Satowa throws her arm out like a child, begging for him to hold her. She doesn't know what she's feeling, but it’s strong, like a jug full to the brim. Like a chalice that's about to spill.

He responds immediately, wrapping one arm around her waist and holding her to his chest. The other hand goes faster and faster till Satowa bends, throwing her head back with a scream.

"Yes, yes. I'm so—" She's barely making any sense. "I don't know—I feel—yes, there, right there—" She pushes down on his fingers herself, feeling them touch a place that has her mouth hang open wordlessly.

Taking the cue, he searches for it and presses, deeper into her than before and Satowa screams, muscles rippling under her skin. She clenches her teeth, letting the wave send her body in a frenzy. It's over in a flash.

Satowa slumps in his arms, head thudding loudly against his chest. She's still for a moment.

"Hey." Kudou breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around her tighter. "You okay?"

She exhales, slowly blinking her eyes open to his worried gaze. Satowa taps on his shoulder, dragging him to her.

"Kiss." She commands like a petulant child. He replies, grinning, slowly rolling her lips into his mouth, rubbing her back in a motion that almost lulls her to sleep. 

"You're so beautiful," he says, playing with the strands of her hair that fall over his shirt. "The prettiest."

Satowa flushes, swatting at his hand before noticing something hard touch her core. She shudders on instinct, looking up at his sheepish gaze.

"We should...uhh...” Satowa offers vaguely, though she really doesn't know what to do.

"I'll...take care of it later." He replies, embarrassed.

"But we could—" He puts a finger over her lips, wincing in pain as she moves over him.

"Not yet," he groans, reaching down to kiss her desperately. "Today was just for you. I wanted you to see the depth of my feelings. Just what I want to do to you."

Her eyes darken again, she yanks him down by his collar, kissing a chain up his throat. He gulps.

"Then teach me next time," she touches the tent forming in his jeans. He whimpers, rubbing instinctively into her palm. "So I can understand what I want to do."

He nods frantically before moving away from her to breathe. It takes them both a moment to gather themselves before they decide to move. He helps Satowa off the table. Her feet wobble uncontrollably, an uncomfortable space forming between her legs. She grunts, smoothing the pleats of her skirt.

"Wanna play something?" Kudou gestures to the Koto, tapping at his watch. “We have another half hour left."

Though she'd love to just go up to her room and shower, Satowa can't deny the excitement in his eyes. She smiles. "Fifteen minutes."

His grin is the widest she's seen since the day he confessed.

They spend more of their time fooling around rather than really playing, not that Satowa minds.

Satowa doesn't really like sweet things, she concludes, unless it comes wrapped like a Christmas present under a tree in the form of a bright haired, bright smiled boy.

A candy named Kudou Chika.

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Dark Prophecy: Chapter 8 (SPOILERS)

"since all he had to do was heat his hands a little." Careful, Leo! Some of these dishes can't withstand certain high temperatures. They'll crack!

"those secret scales on the Valdezinator?" "What secret scales?" I swear, that little music box is the only thing keeping Leo alive.

"Wouldn't the two springs, like, cancel each other out?" Exactly my thoughts. "Assuming the experience didn't kill you" O-oh. Istg every little thing you do in Greek mythology will kill you. Say someone's name? ZAP! Annoy a god? Constellation! Drink water from two different springs? Brain explodes! Step a little too far to the left and you'll probably melt or smthn idk.

"descend into the cave and experience... untold horrors." Delightful! I can't wait!!11! "That is one messed-up Oracle." No kidding. Everything in the Oracle is a 50/50 chance of dying or going insane. He says with any luck your mind will go back to normal. So altogether, that's a 50% chance of dying, a 37.5% chance of going insane permanently, and a 12.5% chance of coming out both alive and sane. Maybe we could just skip this one and let the emperors have it. We've got four other Oracles that usually don't drive people insane or kill them.

"The petitioner would be stuck with those horrors from the cave--forever." So the throne releases the horrors from your mind? Would you still remember it but be less burdened by it or would you forget it entirely? Also, it's really cool how they call the person "the petitioner."

"Georgina... that poor child. What do you think happened to her?" I don't know, what do you think, Calypso? Seems pretty self-explanatory.

"[The emperor] was not a nice person." I think we already could guess that, Apollo. "if I had the right emperor, this quest could be personally awkward." Oh, awkward is what you're worried about?

"Leo, you can't reduce everything to a program." Isn't that exactly the same thing Josephine is doing with the tracking device? They're both trying to use machines to find a person. Same-same. It's not reducing it to a program, it's repurposing an conveniently already-existing device. These two sound like they've had this argument before...

"Why does this rug look like a tightly woven net?" HAHAHAHA "This is a net." Yes.

"ascending in glory to sit at the right hand of my father." After everything he's done and put you through, you still want to sit beside him?

"You're probably thinking: It was Artemis." Well now that you say it, I'm not thinking that anymore.

"Britomartis, the goddess of nets." They have a goddess specifically for nets? Looked it up. She has mountains and hunting, too, which is nice. She also goes by the name Diktynna or Dictynna or Dicte. So now we have a link to the "House of Nets!" Are they referring to the Waystation and it's gonna turn out that it was created by Britomartis or something and that's why the Hunters use it a lot?

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Four)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), jealous Tae (?), rough blowjob, hair pulling, slight degradation (like 1 line), swallowing, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, coming on breasts lol, doggy style, coming on ass, crying, confrontation, drama and sadness lol

Notes: Okay, SO much happens in this chapter!! honestly this chapter is really the beginning! I hope you guys look forward to more:) remember to send me an ask or whatevs if you want to be added to the taglist! Or even if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los

© tastefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dress gets dragged past your hips and falls to the floor, pooling at your ankles. Your panties are next…it’s a black lacey thong and they are snug against your skin. They get dragged down leg by leg, thrown off to the side. Your skin feels hot and tingly…this bra needs off too. It unclasps from the front, freeing your breasts…they bounce as they’re released, you groan in satisfaction. You’re left completely naked and… wait, this sounds oddly sexual, doesn’t it? Yeah, you’re not getting any, sorry. You’re just trying on different clothes.

Taehyung is taking you to a party tonight and you want to look your best, you want to choose everything carefully. From your bra, to your panties to which dress you wear. You have this dress you’ve been saving but it might be too sexy…it’s black and sleek and falls off the shoulders. You might just wear it though…you’re wanting to give Taehyung some steamy thoughts tonight, even if they’re just in his head. A win is a win, right?

You choose another thong, so there’s no panty lines and a strapless bra. You slip the black dress on and it falls deliciously over your curves. You hum in approval as you eye yourself over in the mirror.

“Lookin’ good babe.” You whisper to yourself, nodding your head with a grin.

Jin is hosting a little party at his place tonight, you know when they say ‘little’ it’s more than you know, a little.So you’re looking your best. Taehyung is wearing dark dress pants and a button up shirt so you know it’s going to be at least a little nice, so you are putting some effort.

Speak of the devil, he’s waiting for you in the living room so you need to hurry.

You slide on your heels, grab your phone and your purse and make your way out your room. You see Taehyung leaning against the couch on his phone when you clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Woah.”

But it’s not coming from Taehyung, no. Coming from your side exiting his own bedroom is Jungkook.

He awkwardly clears his own throat and coughs into his fist. “Uh, you look nice.”

You snap your head to the side to get a look at the man, he’s dressed in his dark jeans with a dark button up shirt tucked into his pants…his hair is wild and he looks…breathtaking.

“What are you doing?” you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“Uh. Taehyung said I could ride with you guys…”

Taehyung slips his phone into his pocket and walks over to you guys,

“Yeah, I thought since we are all going to the same place…also, wow. y/n…you look…” Taehyung gestures towards your body and brings his hand to his mouth, “Just incredible.”

You blush at his compliment, your plan already working. Hehe.

“Thanks Tae.”

“I mean, I complimented you too but aight.”

You hit Jungkook’s shoulder and roll your eyes, “Thanks JK.”

Taehyung looks between you two and smiles softly, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs out.

“Should we get going?”

~~~

Usually during car rides Taehyung holds your hand but tonight he’s holding back, you can tell. Jungkook seems to be in a good mood though, he’s talking up a storm in the backseat, going on and on about how he reached a new goal at the gym. He even playfully flexes his muscles, making Taehyung chuckle from beside you. Jungkook leans forward until he’s in the middle of the console between your seat and Taehyungs seat, showing his phone to the both of you at some meme he found.

“y/n, y/n. LOOK.” Jungkook is shoving the phone in your face. “It’s our favorite meme!”

You take his phone from him, setting it down in your lap, “Before I look…is it The PeePee PooPoo Man?” you stifle a laugh.

Jungkook is already cracking the fuck up, “Damn, I can’t even look at it…”

“Me either…I’ll explode.” You start laughing already, the thought of the meme already killing you.

“What? I wanna see!” Taehyung whines.

You and Jungkook are already laughing your asses off, just thinking of the meme and thinking of Taehyungs reaction. When he gets to a stop light, you hesitantly hand him the phone while you cover your mouth.

“Okay…” Taehyung takes the phone.

“Read it out loud!” Jungkook practically yells, his excitement incredibly evident.

“Yeah, read it out loud!” you and Jungkook look at each other and start laughing again,

“Okay…” Taehyung looks at the meme and starts reading, “Say his name…you won’t be laughing when he kills you…” he scrolls down, “The PeePee PooPoo Man…..”

You and Jungkook DIE. Your laughter filling the car so loudly that Taehyung winces and covers his ears.

“Please tell me this isn’t really your guys’ favorite meme….” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly.

“What do you mean? OF COURSE it is!” You say, trying not to cry.

“Shit, I can’t…I can’t.” Jungkook has his hand on your shoulder. The two of you start to relax, your laughter finally dying down.

“I mean, really? PeePee PooPoo Man?” Taehyung just doesn’t get it. You guys really think this is funny?

You start cackling again at the mention of the name,

“Oh my god, stop. Don’t say his name.” You look at Jungkook who is already looking at you with a wide grin, his own eyes watering from laughing so hard.

“You guys are something else…” Taehyung drives through the green light, his eyes watching the two of you. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

~~~~

“Friends!” Jin opens his arms wide as if inviting all 3 of you in for a hug, “Welcome to my humble abode!”

“Yes, yes. Very humble.” Jungkook takes the invitation and quickly hugs his friend.

“Taehyung, y/n. Don’t be shy, come come.” He gestures towards his body.

The two of you laugh and embrace your friend, Jungkook stands off to the side looking all around the place.

“Small get together my ass.” Jungkook huffs.

The house is packed with people, lots of faces you don’t recognize but a few faces you do.

“JIMIN!!! TRINA!!!” You leave the boys sides to meet your friends.

“Hello beautiful.” Trina pulls you in for a hug, her laugh ringing in your ears. Jimin embraces you next, his arms wrapping lovingly around your body.

“What’s up sexy.” Jimin winks as he pulls back. Jimin looks gorgeous as usual, his hair pushed back so the world can see that beautiful god damn forehead.

Jungkook and Taehyung jog up to you guys, greeting your friends one by one. “Trina.” Jungkook nods in her direction.

“Jeon.” She nods back. “And hello Taehyung.” She links arms with the boy, “have you been treating our y/n well?”

Taehyung makes awkward eye contact with Jimin, panic written all over his face.

“Yeah Tae Tae,” Jimin says smoothly, his eyes narrowing. “How have you been treating our y/n?”

“Jimin can I talk to you?” Jungkook cuts in.

“I don’t give a shit about our promises from 3 fucking years ago. Get over it.” Jimin spits out, “y/n is my friend. I’m telling her.”

“Wait, Taehyung says he’s going to tell her.” Jungkook rushes to say, he’s got his hands on Jimin’s shoulders but Jimin shoves him off.

“I’m disappointed in you Jungkook. You’re keeping this from her all because you’re scared she’s going to find out about that stupid new years eve party. That was 3 fucking years ago dude, get over it.” Then Jimin quirks a brow, “Unless…you’re not over it? Not over h—”

“Shut up dude, it’s not fucking like that.” Jungkook tries defending.

“One week. That’s all he has before I tell her myself. You fucking idiots.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” You walk between the boys, your hands on both of their shoulders, “things looked heated for a second…” you say awkwardly, “are you guys okay?”

Jungkook gives Jimin a look that you decide you can’t decipher. Jimin rolls his eyes and releases a long breath before turning to face you.

“Everything’s fine, babe.” Jimin gives you a small smile and turns around heading towards your friends, “Trina!” he calls out, “Let’s get fucking drunk!”

You face Jungkook, “Is he alright?” you can’t help but feel concerned, Jimin is acting really strange. Jungkook stares into your eyes for a while, nibbling on his lips deciding what to say.

“He said everything’s fine, didn’t he?” His hand reaches forward to rub your arm, his way of comforting you. Taehyung watches the two of you from the corner of his eye.

“Should we get fucking drunk too?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know it, baby.”

~~~~

Once inside, you find Taehyung’s side. His long arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in close to his frame. You two find the kitchen to fetch some drinks, Jungkook follows closely behind you two.

“How about we start the night taking some shots?” You hear Jungkook suggest from your side.

“I like your thinking Mr.Jeon.” your playful tone makes him smile.

“You know I like being called that,” he winks. Taehyung’s grip tightens around your waist and you remember you’re in his embrace.

“Um, what do you think Tae?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” He says quietly, almost detached.

The 3 of you take shot after shot, Taehyungs hand never leaves your body. He keeps you steady as the world becomes just a bit more hazy. You drunkenly laugh into his chest anytime anyone says anything remotely funny. Taehyung enjoys that you’re leaning on him, that you are feeling comfortable.

He watches as you soak in the world in front of you, your wide eyes observing your surroundings. He laughs when you stumble forward every now and then but he always catches you. He kisses your head every few minutes to remind you that he’s here and he has you.

You feel like you’re floating, the alcohol running through your veins and causing the world to be so much more fucking awesome, hell yeah.

You scan the crowd and see a bunch of people dancing and you decide you want to dance too! You take Taehyung’s hand and move your head around looking for Jungkook, but you don’t see him.

“He went his own way a little while ago,” Taehyung reminds you, as if reading your mind.

“Oh.” You don’t mean to sound so disappointed, but you do. You fucking do.

You turn to face Taehyung and smile brightly anyway, “Let’s go dance!”

The music is so loud it’s all your body can register. Every note swims through your ears and every thump of the bass makes you move. Your arms are wrapped loosely around Taehyungs neck, your bodies swaying to the beat of the music. You’re having so much fun until you see it. A few feet in front of you, you see his tattooed hands on some random girls ass. You shouldn’t be feeling the drop in your stomach but you do. You fucking do.

Your eyes trail up his arms until you meet his eyes when you see he’s already staring at you. His dark gaze makes you fucking shudder, you hate that can he do this to you. Even after all this time.

You watch him carefully as you inch closer to Taehyung, you grab a hold of him more tightly. Taehyung grunts when he feels you grind your hips into his. Jungkook watches you as you dance with Taehyung, his gaze somehow becoming more and more dangerous. He leans down into the girls neck and begins sucking bruises, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses her and she throws her head back, you can see her smile in approval of his attention. He fucking smirks when you roll your eyes. Two can play that game. Taehyung watches you watching him but you don’t notice. But you wish you did. You pull Taehyungs face down to meet you for a kiss, your lips moving against his hotly, though your eyes remain on Jungkook the entire time. Jungkook just glares at you, turning the girl around so she can grind her ass into his crotch.

You sway your hips into Taehyung, his hands go to hold your hips moving them to the beat of the song. He groans when he feels your ass backing into him, he feels himself getting hard at the contact. You feel it too. You break eye contact with Jungkook to look up at Taehyung, his dick catching your attention.

“Oh don’t mind me.” Taehyung throws his hands up, whispering bitterly.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.”

And Taehyung is slipping away, disappearing in the crowd. You watch as he fades from your drunken vision.

You stand there feeling completely abandoned and puzzled when you feel a hand on your arm. You turn your head to see Jungkook standing there, breathless.

“Can we talk? Are we…okay?” He looks strange. Confused even.

“No, I gotta find Tae.” You say, “Plus, you’re busy, aren’t you?” you point your head in the direction of the girl.

“Does that bother you?” Jungkook whispers somewhat defeated, “Because I think…” he shakes his head, “No, I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk, Jungkook.” You release his hold on you, “I gotta find Tae.”

Jungkook feels…like he recalls this feeling. He doesn’t want you to go and find Tae. He wants you to stay with him. He recalls these familiar feelings and internally deflates, he doesn’t want to feel this. Not again.

You weave through the crowd until you make your way into the kitchen, you scan the area but see no Taehyung. Frustrated, you smooth down your tangled hair and take a minute to think. Where did he go? Where could he have gone? This house is huge! You recall just trying to find the bathroom that one time. You decide to try the backyard, you walk out the door and notice only a few people occupying the place. But still no Taehyung.

You head back inside the house and try out each random door. Well, he’s definitely not in the kitchens pantry. Damn, you’re drunk. You head down the hall and try out those rooms, your fingers slide against the wall as you walk. The first room is empty, the second room has a small group of people playing some game, the third room—you definitely interrupted something sexy going on. And finally, the fourth room has one Kim Taehyung. He’s sitting quietly on the edge of a bed, he doesn’t even look up to see who entered the room.

“Tae…” you walk inside, closing the door behind you. It softly clicks and you walk towards him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask but obviously you know what’s wrong, but your dumb ass has to make sure.

Taehyung stares down at his hands, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his shirt. He doesn’t look up at you when he breathes out through his nose.

“What’s wrong? Seriously? My girlfriend was dancing with me but playing some fucking eye fuck game with another guy.” He slurs.

Well, you knew. But it still stings to hear. Also, he must be really drunk if he called you his girlfriend and didn’t correct himself.

“I wasn’t…we weren’t…”

“When will you two just…” Taehyung stops to breathe, collecting his thoughts. “Fuck, I think I…no, I just…” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “I’m so confused.” He admits.

“About what?” you go to sit next to him, you leave a few inches of space between you. But still close enough for him to exhale deeply and lay his head on your shoulder.

“About you.” He says so quietly you don’t really hear.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Taehyung changes the subject. “You look so incredible tonight.” His hand falls to your knee, he starts rubbing it soothingly. You know this would feel nice sober but it feels indescribable drunk. His touch is soft and light that you fall into a trance.

“You think so?” you breathe out pathetically.

Taehyung lifts his head and turns to face you, “I’ve thought about kissing you all night.” He admits softly, “Then you really…” he glances down at his crotch, “Gave me quite the problem.” He drunkenly pouts. “Because you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help but giggle, “I can take care of that if you want.” You offer, your tone light and teasing yet powerfully seductive.

“Really need to kiss you first.” He breathes out heavily, his cock twitching in his pants.

You lean forward and peck his lips, you lean back and smile but then Taehyung surges forward and plants his lips on yours in a rushed and heated kiss. His lips move against yours quickly, his tongue finding its way in your mouth. You moan out loud, the sound going directly to his growing length. Your hands explore the front of his body, they travel from his hair to his chest to his stomach…all the way until you feel his cock through his pants. He groans loudly when you cup him.

“Are you gonna tease me, sweetheart?” he leans back on his forearms. “Because I wouldn’t mind that.” He smiles slyly.

“I have thought about this a million times, I don’t think there’s any time to waste quite honestly.” Wow, you are drunk because you just admitted that.

“Is it really me you think about?” he whispers under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he looks up at you.

“What? “Nothing, show me what you think about.”

“Have you ever thought about me? If so, I want you to show me.”

Taehyung stands to his feet, “Oh sweetheart,” he begins unbuckling his pants, “I can show you…if that’s what you want.” You nod your head and he smirks.

“Get on your knees for me.”

You do as Taehyung says, you fall to your knees in front of him and look up at him expectantly.

“So fucking pretty.” He lowers his pants down to his knees along with his boxers, his cock springs free, bouncing against his lower stomach. Your mouth fucking waters. His dick is gorgeous but like it’s Kim Taehyung…of course, he has a beautiful dick. It’s long, and thick and golden and you want your lips wrapped around it right fucking now.

“This is okay, right?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then open that pretty mouth of yours for me, sweetheart.”

But he doesn’t give you time to think because he’s pulling your head back and shoving his cock between your pretty, pouting lips.

You silently gag around him, and you can hear the string of explicates push past his plump lips. He sounds so fucking hot. His grip on your hair only tightens as he begins to shallowly thrust past your lips. He loves how you seem to swallow him whole, looking so beautiful as he fucks your mouth just waiting to fill it with his cum.

Pulling out all the way, he roughly fucks his cock back where it belongs, taking you by surprise causing you to choke. You absolutely love letting him have his way with you, so you moan loudly letting the vibrations stimulate his cock even further.

“You like it when I pull your hair that hard? You like it when I make you feel that’s all you’re good for?” He grits between his teeth. He looks down at you, and you look up into his dark, piercing gaze and mutter words of mercy.

“Taking my cock so good, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes Tae” you say almost inaudibly, tears pricking your eyes and falling in streams as you hollow your cheeks around his thick length. Your chest pounding as you close your eyes, allowing him to go to town on you. His grip weakens and his dick twitches in your mouth, spilling his hot seed down your throat.

“Fuck,” he curses, rubbing your cheeks tenderly. “You made me cum so fast, what a fucking good girl, my sweetheart.” He says, continuing his caress your cheek. You feel your panties become so unbelievably wet, drenched if you will. God damn.

“You let me fuck this mouth…will you also let me fuck this pussy?” his fingers on your chin guides your face to look up at him.

“Please.” God, you’re so needy its pathetic, but its god damn Kim Taehyung.

“First I gotta stretch you out, sweetheart.” He motions for you to lay on the bed, “Take off your clothes for me.”

You do as he says, you crawl on to the bed and slip your dress off, then your bra and you’re about to drag your panties down when he stops you.

“Wait…leave those on.” His dark gaze commands you.

Taehyung takes off the rest of his clothes and makes his way to the bed, crawling over you. Your breath catches in your throat, you feel like everything’s stopped.

His hand lightly drags down your stomach until his hand is hovering where you want him most.

Without warning, he moves your panties to the side and his fingers slide into your sopping, desperate cunt, curling them just right to brush against that spot in you that make your toes curl.

His long fingers slides in and out of you, the sound of your wet pussy and your loud moans filling the room.

“More. More.” you plead.

“What is it that you want?” he says still working his fingers inside of you.

You just moan loudly in response.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, “Sweetheart…” he begs.

“You. You. I want you!”

“Fuck yes.” He grits, his hand on his cock already. “Gonna fuck you now, okay?”

“Yes!”

He’s sitting on his hunches as he lines his cock up to your wet pussy. He slowly drags it up from your hole all the way up to your swollen clit, he then rubs circles over your clit with this cock, you both moan at the feeling.

He drags it back down and lines it up with your entrance, taking your legs and hanging them over his shoulders. He finally begins pushing into you with one slow drag of his cock, and as he bottoms out, you whimper his name repeatedly. He is stretching you out deliciously. He stays completely still for a moment before he starts moving his hips dangerously slow, you go to moan out his name but no sound comes out. The feeling of his dick brushing inside you leaving you speechless.

Your mind goes blank for a second, then suddenly images of Jungkook cross your mind. You think about him with that other girl, you think about him fucking her, you think about him coming inside her. You try so hard to speak but the way Taehyung rolls his hips into yours over and over lets out only loud, pleading moans. Only the sound of your whimpers and his heavy breathing fill the room.

Dropping one of your legs, Taehyung moves his hand to the soft skin of your stomach, his touch is electric.

“So close Ju-Tae…”

“Where should I come?” he asks, breathless as he continues to fuck into you.

“My tits.”

Taehyung smirks as he thrusts harder and faster until you’re coming undone on his cock, your loud moans giving away your orgasm. Jungkook’s face filling your mind again as you come…only making you come harder. Taehyung pulls out and shoots his cum all over your chest, he smiles down at you as he enjoys the view.

Taehyung falls forward, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss.

“That was amazing y/n. You’re so good to me, sweetheart.” He kisses you again.

You look up at the ceiling, the soreness already announcing its arrival between your legs. Your orgasm is kind of sobering you up. Did you just fuck Taehyung? You kind of laugh, a bit confused. It was fun and all…wait, why are you beginning to over think? It’s just…you just had his cock filling you up yet you lay here with his arm draped around you and you feel…empty.

How did things escalate this much? But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? God, why are you being such a baby! You just fucked THE Kim Taehyung and you’re wondering why you feel disappointed…congratulations y/n, you’re the world’s most ungrateful bitch.

But then your sober thoughts come in once again, reminding you of what set you over the edge. No, you don’t want to remember.

Taehyung is already snoozing beside you, his arm loosely thrown over your body. You look down at him and feel guilt bubbling in your chest. What have you done? What are you doing?

Wait—did he really fall asleep while his cum dries on your tiddies?

~~~

The next few days you spend in and out of Taehyungs apartment, he invites you over for dinner, to watch TV, to paint—for sex. Basically, any and everything.

The sex is…good—really good, actually. He treats you super well, still the gentleman and makes you feel incredible.

You want to feel incredible. You should feel incredible. Isn’t this incredible?

But still, something makes you ache. The ache is beginning to consume you. You want it to go, to disappear to leave you forever because you should be feeling incredible. But then your mind goes back to the same damn thing—

Brrr Brrr

You are lying on your bed with a sour punch straw hanging out your mouth when your phone buzzes. You ignore it, trying to focus on your thoughts again but then you hear it go off again. You roll over on your stomach and pick up your phone, unlocking it to read your texts.

Taehyung 8:14pm

Hello beautiful!

Taehyung 8:15pm

Wanna come over for a movie? I miss your pretty face.

You read the texts to yourself over and over, nibbling on your lips like the action will somehow help you. You…this is what you wanted, right?

y/n 8:18pm

You miss me already? You just saw me :p but sure I’ll be over in 30.

You sit up in bed, the straw still dangling from your lips and you begin chewing…the straw disappearing centimeter by centimeter. The sour flavor making you scrunch up your face but you take it.

You sit there and wonder if you even really want to go…but you know you should. So, you get up and get dressed into something a little more presentable and exit your bedroom.

Jungkook is in the kitchen making something to eat when you walk out, he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice your presence.

“Boo!” you yell out, jumping towards him and hugging his waist from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t even flinch, he just chuckles softly and slowly turns in your embrace.

“What do you think you’re doing miss not so sneaky?” his eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance.

“Wait—are you going somewhere? I…I thought we could watch Howl’s Moving Castle tonight?” he loosens your grip on him and lowers your arms down to your side.

“Oh…” you say awkwardly. “I already told Tae I would go over there for a movie…”

Jungkook blows air through his nose, and rolls his eyes to the side, “Again? Weren’t you just there?”

“It’s normal to hang out with your…friends.” Friends? You and Taehyung are friends or are you more than friends? Or? What is going on?

“Can’t you just cancel on him and hang out with me, your best friend?” he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on the counter.

“Jungkook…”

“Fine, fine. Have fun.” He turns back around to continue making whatever it is he is making,

Since spending so much time with Taehyung the last few days, Jungkook hasn’t been getting the attention he’s used to. You decide to step forward and hug him from behind again and nuzzle your face into his back.

“Love you.” You whisper into his shirt, the scent making you feel cozy.

“I…” he clears his throat. “Yeah, me too.”

~~~~~

Taehyung collapses on top of you, hugging you from behind, out of breath and sweat sticking to his skin. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he fucks into you, your face buried in the cushion of his living rooms couch.

“Fuck, I’m about to blow, sweetheart.” His hips grind into you and you moan out from the feeling.

“Gonna come all over this pretty ass, that okay?” he grits out.

“Yes. Yes.”

Taehyung quickly pulls out, grunting your name, and comes down your lower back and ass, his hand grips his cock tightly as he shoots his load. You feel the warm, sticky goo dribble down your cheeks and you cringe.

You lay there breathless, even though you didn’t come yourself, but the fuck was still good—so you say to yourself.

“Please get me a towel.”

Taehyung is quick to roll off you and grab his t shirt and wipe your skin clean. “Better?”

“Yeah…”

Taehyung sits back down on the couch, a wide grin on his face when realization hits him… “Oh my god, you didn’t come. I can…I can eat you out.”

“No it’s okay, really.” You assure him. The mood is long gone.

“This just keeps getting better.” Taehyung pulls you to his side, he smiles into your neck as you steady your breaths.

“What does?” your hand goes into his hair and you begin massaging his scalp—you know he likes that. Unlike Jungkook, he doesn’t like his hair being pulled. Ugh… Why did you have to think that?

“God, just everything.” Taehyung pulls back and smiles at you and you try to return it whole heartily but you fall short.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks.

“Everything’s fine,” you lie. “Just noticing the time and I think I should head out soon.”

Taehyung pushes his head back, a confused smile makes its way on his face.

“It’s barely 11?”

“It’s just…Jungkook wanted to watch a movie tonight too…you know his horrible sleeping habits so no doubt he’s going to be up for a while, “ you begin. “so I thought…I could still make it to watch it with him.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a while, he only stares at you with hard eyes. He leans back on to the couch and exhales deeply.

“Have you been thinking about this the whole time? About him? Even while…” he shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

“y/n I think…we really need to ta—”

“No!” you cut in, you feel anxiety stir within you.

“I mean, I just mean, we can talk tomorrow? You wanted to meet for brunch right? We can talk then. For now…” you lean over and pick up your shirt and throw it on. “I’m gonna head home.”

Taehyung bows his head down, his hands running through his hair as he mutters something to himself.

“What’s that?” you ask while standing to find your shorts.

“Nothing…” he lifts his head, “Actually…y/n.”

“What is it?” you laugh awkwardly, buttoning up your shorts.

“You and Jungkook…” he stands up too, “When will you two just…”

“I’m gonna go Tae.” Your guilty smile making you feel sick, but it doesn’t stop you from walking towards him and kissing his lips.

“y/n I think I like y—”

“Tomorrow?” you smile sweetly as the ache you have been feeling only grows larger and larger.

“Yeah…” Taehyung smiles back, “Tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

y/n 11:08pm

You still up?

Jungkook 11:09pm

Yeah, whats up?

y/n 11:09pm

you still up for that movie?

Jungkook 11:09pm

You coming home already? But yeah sure:)

y/n 11:10pm

yeah I’m about to head that way

Jungkook 11:11pm

Ok don’t text and drive

y/n 11:11pm

hey its 1111 make a wish

Jungkook 11:11pm

Really? What are you, 12?

You chuckle to yourself as you sit in the driver’s seat of your car, you exit your messages and open up your music app to play one of your playlists.

You put the car in reverse and exit Taehyung apartment complex parking lot, it’s kind of cramped and you’re having to put the car in drive and reverse too many times for your liking…making you feel fucking frustrated.

Your mind goes to tonight…you hate this feeling. You just want to go home. Home where its warm and safe and no one is trying to have a serious talk with you.

You’re avoiding it. You have been for a while…you’re not stupid. Taehyung…no, you don’t want to think about it.

The drive home is relaxing for you…there’s barely anyone else out and your music is at the right volume. Just loud enough that you can’t hear yourself think. Perfect.

You enter your apartment, and are welcomed with a dark, quiet place. Where’s Jungkook?

You take your phone out and shoot him a text asking where he is but several minutes pass and he doesn’t reply. Where did he go? He didn’t…cancel on you, right? He isn’t with some girl right now, right?

Anxiety stirs within you once again, the thought of Jungkook elsewhere making breathing harder. You just wanted to come home but somehow this empty apartment feels like the farthest thing from home. The blue glow of the TV making you feel like you’re in an odd, far off place. You pull your legs up on the couch and hug them close to you, you suddenly feel so lonely. So fucking lonely.

Your face contorts, and before you know it you are trying not to cry. The last few days are catching up to you and you feel like a mess. Why can’t things feel fucking incredible? Your lip quivers and you struggle to breathe in and out like a normal human being.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, weirdo?”

You didn’t notice the sound of the front door opening and the light being turned on.

Your head snaps to the side to see Jungkook at the front entrance with a bag in his hand, he looks at you with a toothy grin until he realizes you’re crying.

“Woah woah,” he rushes to set the bag down and heads your way, he makes it to the sofa and sits down next to you and is quick to pull you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers into your hair. “Are you okay?” He pulls back to get a look at your face, you start sniffling harder.

“Did Taehyung do something?” then Jungkook begins to panic, “Fuck, he did, right? I knew it…I’m gonna beat his fucking ass.” Jungkook lets go of you and begins to stand up when you desperately pull him back down.

“No…” you cry out quietly, “It’s your fault, dummy.”

Jungkook tilts his head innocently, “My fault?” he says, pointing to himself.

“I thought you bailed on me…” you sniff.

Jungkook breathes out and laughs softly, “I was…I went to the store to buy some beer for us.” He gestures towards the bag on the ground.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” he asks.

“I texted…but you didn’t answer.”

“Then you should have called,” His fingers brush across your cheek.

“I thought maybe you could have been with…someone…I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jungkook looks at you incredulously, his brows pinched together so tightly.

“You think I would do something like that?” he pulls you in again, “I would never do that. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

“You wouldn’t ever leave me in general would you?”

“Never, baby.” He kisses the top of your head and you nuzzle yourself into his chest.

Home. Your apartment finally feels like home again.

You and Jungkook are a few beers in and watching one of your favorite movies, he looks over at you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. You smile softly towards him and he smiles back…this goes on for the entire movie. Near the end, you have the urge to be closer to Jungkook so you grab his hand and interlock your fingers. He doesn’t look at you as he weaves his fingers through yours and holds your hand tightly.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you say, slight tease in your voice.

Jungkook goes stiff, a memory sucking him in. Fucking great.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you tease as Jungkook lifts your joined hands above your head.

“Love feeling closer to you.” Jungkook leans down and plants wet kisses down the expanse of your throat, you moan as you feel his lips devouring you.

Jungkook continues to kiss and kiss until his lips meet your collarbone, until his lips drag down to your breasts, until his lips are kissing at your stomach, until his lips are where you want him most. He continues to hold your hands, lowering them to your sides.

“Love feeling closer.”

“It’s pretty late…2 in the morning…sheesh.” Jungkook untangles your fingers, “Goodnight, y/n.” he leans over and kisses the top of your head before standing from the sofa and walking towards his room for the night.

“Night Jungkook…” you whisper, feeling the emptiness dig its hole within you again.

~~~~~

You can’t really describe this hole in your chest that you feel. It leaves you empty and in pain. It leaves you wondering why and how and when this all started…

You’re meeting Taehyung for brunch at the café, you’re seated in a booth across from him and he looks quite chipper. You watch as he eyes the menu and you watch as his lips curve upward into a warm smile when he speaks to you. You watch his lips as he talks, you watch his hands as the gesture around the place, you watch—

“y/n? y/n?”

“Oh. Yeah?”

“You’re not getting pancakes?” Taehyung pouts, setting down his menu.

You chuckle softly, “Why does it matter?”

“I thought you would get one flavor and I would get another and we could like, share.” He says almost childlike.

You nibble on your lip, it wasn’t a bad idea actually.

“Fine.” You smile, “I’ll get blueberry.”

“And I’ll get chocolate.” He grins at you with all his teeth. The two of you wait for your server to arrive but she is nowhere to be found so Taehyung stands from the booth and says he is going to fetch her. You nod your head and watch him walk past a corner. You pull out of your phone and begin scrolling through twitter when a feminine voice cuts in,

“y/n, right?”

You look up from your phone to see a familiar face. Long brown hair, big bright eyes, full pouting lips. Long legs, the works. Anna.

“Um, yes?” you bite your lip, feeling anxious all the sudden. Why is Taehyung’s stalker talking to you?

“If you’re…” you try to come off more confident. “Looking for Taehyung, you should just forget about it.”

Anna looks taken aback before she’s smirking down at you, “And why is that?”

“He’s not interested Anna, you need to like, move on.”

“Oh? It’s me who needs to move on?” she laughs light heartedly. “Listen, y/n. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but it sounds like you have it all wrong.” She taps her manicured fingers on the table.

“I don’t think so Anna.” You stand up so you’re at eye level with her, “He—”

“Tell Taehyung it’s starting to work though. I am starting to regret it.” She says, her voice so smooth. “Oh.” Her bright eyes widen, “Or I could tell him myself.” She says, looking behind you.

You turn around to see Taehyung approaching the table, his face as white as a ghost.

“A-Anna? What are you doing here?” his voice filled with panic, you’ve never seen Taehyung look so freaked out before.

“Just telling your little girlfriend I miss you.”

Taehyung visibly frowns at Anna’s words. Like they hold depth for him. What the hell is going on? What’s starting to work? What is she regretting? Your head snaps to face Taehyung,

“Taehyung, what’s happening?”

“Yeah, Taehyungie, what’s happening?” Anna copies with a coy smile.

Taehyung looks between the two of you, panic written all over his face. Anna’s hand softly clutches onto Taehyungs forearm and he very clearly relaxes at her touch, making you feel even more confused.

“Do you know her? Like know her know her?” you finally ask.

“Does he know me?” Anna lightly chuckles, a hand coming to cover her mouth, “Do you know me Tae?” she continues to giggle. Then her large eyes meet yours, “It looks like you’re the one who doesn’t know him.” then she’s looking at Taehyung again, “I’ll be waiting for your call.” And she steps to the side, smiles at you and walks away. You watch as she disappears through the door of the restaurant and your eyes never leave the door. Your mind trying to process what just happened.

“Y/n, I can explain.” You finally hear Taehyung speak up. His hand reaches for yours but you yank it back.

“Don’t touch me. Just talk.” You demand, sitting back down in the booth.

Taehyung sits across from you and exhales a long breath.

“Anna is my ex-girlfriend.” He lets out. Pausing, waiting for a reaction from you but it never comes. He continues,

“I might of not been completely honest—”

“No shit.” You cut in, “But please,” you gesture your hand for him to go on.

“She left me for another guy…” Taehyung doesn’t expect you to feel sorry for him, he folds his hands in his lap and he thinks about what to say next.

“I just…wanted her to feel what I felt. Like I moved on, I wanted her to want me back.”

“Because you want her back…” you finish for him. Your eyes darting all around the café. “You lied to me…” then you look at him, “Why me? Why did you ask me?

Taehyung looks down at his hands, “I knew you liked me, so I thought you would agree to it.” He admits.

You breathe out a long breath, your eyes beginning to gloss over,

“You knew I…? So all of this was truly just fake?”

Taehyung shakes his head frantically, “No. No. Well, maybe in the beginning.” He admits, his voice starting to crack. “Anna—“

“And how didn’t I know you had a girlfriend?”

“Listen, please just listen. Anna and I were dating, yes. But she wanted to keep quiet about it…” he notices you quirk a brow, “She had her reasons.” He defends. “but then she came to me, telling me all this shit about how she met someone else and I…I panicked.” He looks down at the table, his voice wavering.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” you point out, “You fucking used me.”

“I know, I know.” Taehyung chokes on his words, “And I feel awful about it,”

“How awful Taehyung? You fucked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, he shakes his head again. “Please let me continue….I…I am really confused right now. I thought I wanted Anna back but you…you make me feel…but…”

“But what?” you cross your arms over your chest, you raise your head, trying your best not to fucking cry.

“I’m just so confused.” He says again.

“You used me.” You whisper, your tears finally fleeing from your eyes.

“Yes…but I think you used me too.”

Excuse you? The fucking audacity this fucker has!

“Used you? Please tell me how I used you!”

Taehyung meets your eyes, they’re soft and warm. “Please don’t play dumb,” he says.

“Aren’t I just your little distraction from Jung—"

“Stop.” Your eyes grow twice their size, you push your shoulders all the way up to your ears. You’re fuming. “I don’t know what you think you—”

“y/n.”

He looks at you softly, you stare into his eyes and your lip begins to quiver. What does Taehyung think he knows? What does Taehyung know that you’re too afraid to say out loud yourself? Your eyes refill with tears and he reaches for your hand across the table, this time you don’t pull back.

“It’s okay y/n, I know.” He says so gently it feels like someone’s hugging you.

You stare at him in disbelief while the tears begin to fall. Fuck. Years of pent up emotions finally break free, you quietly sob like a baby in the booth of the café. His hand never leaves yours.

You cry like this for several minutes, letting years of unrequited feelings get washed away. Taehyung eventually moves to your side of the booth and holds you, you cry pathetically into his chest. Why couldn’t this work? You made a wish in the bubble bath and everything…why couldn’t you get your way? You sacrificed so much…you put Jungkook’s friendship on the line for this…why?

“How did you figure it out?” your shy tone makes Taehyung smile fondly towards you.

“You’re pretty obvious. I always thought you guys had a thing going to be honest…but he always denied it.”

You feel your stomach drop, it’s not like you’re surprised that Jungkook would deny something like this but for some reason it still hurts.

“Makes sense.” You sniffle into your elbow. “We aren’t like that.”

Taehyung looks at you with so much fucking pity it kills you.

“y/n…he could feel the same way…”

“He doesn’t.” you rush to say, “Trust me.”

Taehyung looks down at his hands, he feels more guilt surface. He’s kept so much from you…now he’s keeping another secret.

“Don’t give up.” He smiles towards you, “I hope that with time you can be my friend again…I understand if you want some space.”

“Wait.” You feel anger begin to bubble over, “Jungkook…he fucking knew about you, didn’t he?” you ball your hands into fists. “He didn’t fucking tell me?” you turn your head to face Taehyung, your eyes filling with tears once again. Your best friend didn’t tell you about this?

“Wait wait y/n. That’s my fault not his, I swear. A few years ago I told him and Jimin about Anna and they had to swear not to say anything and they told me stuff in return…so the 3 of us swore to each other…” he begins losing his train of thought, “It’s just…it’s not his fault.”

“Jimin…too?” Your brows pinch together, you feel so fucking betrayed. You feel like an idiot.

“Jimin only just found out and he only didn’t tell you because Jungkook said he was going to tell him that I planned on telling you…”

“Were you going—”

“Yes!” Taehyung exclaims loudly, the people in the next booth over look over. “I promise, I just—I needed to figure out how. But then my feelings got so confusing and we slept together and I thought I could pretend…”

“Okay okay…” you pat his back, “I believe you.” And you do. You recall every moment he was going to tell you but you stopped him…because deep down you knew this was all too good to be true.

“y/n please forgive me.” He chokes up, “I really don’t want to lose you.”

You chew on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say. Yes, you feel hurt and betrayed but are you any better? You were so desperate for Taehyung to like you because…because you wanted to forget about Jungkook. You used him too. He’s right. And no matter how hard you tried and how much you forced yourself…Jungkook is still the only one you can think about.

Wait a fucking minute. No. He lied to you. He used you. And yes, maybe you were maybe trying to use him too but his is much worse. And you shouldn’t forgive that so easily. Right?

“I think you’re right about needing space Taehyung…you…you did me really wrong.”

Taehyung exhales deeply, looking into your eyes.

“I know y/n. I’m…I’m so sorry.” he looks down at his hands, they’re cold and clammy.

“y/n…please believe me, I’m so confused. I think I like—”

“Don’t.” you hold up your hand in front of him. “Don’t do that.”

Taehyung’s shoulders slump as he nods his head un understanding. “Sorry.”

You’re hurt. You feel used and betrayed. You should direct all your anger towards Taehyung, the one who did this to you but somehow the feeling of hurt and betrayal is coming from someone else. Jungkook. He kept this from you. Why? Why the hell would he keep this from you? You guys are supposed to tell each other everything but then you scoff at your own thought. He won’t even open up about his home life, why are you surprised he keeps things from you?

You decide to walk home from the café, rejecting Taehyungs offer to give you a ride. You need the fresh air, let’s be honest. You finally see your apartment in view and you sigh.

You reach the front door as you unzip your bag to reach for your keys to unlock the door. The keys are cold between your fingers as you search for the right one, but much to your frustration you can’t fucking find it. Obviously, it’s here. But why is it hiding from you?

You very irritatingly rattle the knob just for shits and giggles. You even pound the door with your fists just letting out all your anger, the feeling of betrayal catching up to you. You hit your head against the wooden door repeatedly wincing at the pain but not letting that stop the movement.

Much to your surprise, the door swings open and your head falls forward into Jungkook’s warm hand. You look up with shocked, watery eyes. He studies your face for a few seconds before exhaling deeply.

“What’s wro—"

“You knew. About Anna.” You spit out, standing tall.

Jungkook’s lips form a small ‘o’ before his face is hardening. “I tried to warn you.” Is all he says.

“Warn me?” you scoff in disbelief. “You should of told me.”

“You should of just listened to me, and trust me.” He scoffs back, his lips turning downwards.

“You let me go around pretending to be his girlfriend when you knew how much I liked him??”

“You’re not my responsibility. And it wasn’t my business,” he eyes you up and down. “Are you going to come inside or not?” he gestures towards inside the apartment. You are quiet for a moment before breezing past him and settling in the kitchen.

“Why are you always keeping things from me Jungkook?” you feel so tired, just so fucking tired.

“y/n…” he shuts the front door and walks towards you, his head hanging low. “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, you guys have your fucking weird ass secrets or whatever. Probably another thing I don’t know about you.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow in size, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline. “He didn’t tell you…”

“No Jungkook.”

He sighs in relief. He walks closer to you until he’s reaching his hands to grab yours.

“I’m sorry…he—”

“We…” you feel your eyes bubble over with tears again, “We slept together.” You sniffle, “He fucking used me.” You stare at Jungkook with a pained expression, “All this time I—I thought I was making progress…” your head falls into your hands and you begin to cry.

. “That asshole fucked you?” Jungkook’s voice is dangerously low.

“I told him…he couldn’t…that fucking dick.” Jungkook turns towards the counter and grabs his keys.

“W-What are you doing?” You lift your head, panic written all over your face.

“Gonna beat his ass.” Jungkook is walking towards the front door to find his shoes.

“No!” you rush towards him, grabbing onto his arm, “I-I’m fine. Me and Taehyung are done, it’s over. No need to do anything el—”

“Fine? How are you fine?! You’re not fine, y/n!” he looks at you, exasperated.

“I—"

“This is my fault.” He bows his head, “I should of told you.” “Well…yes. You should have Jungkook.” You let go of his arm and turn around, you run your fingers through your hair. You feel frustrated as fuck.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“How can I make this up to you?” Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel right now. Guilty? Horrible? Okay? Happy that you and Taehyung are finally fucking done? Furious that his friend fucked you? You of all people? He should beat Taehyungs ass just for that alone.

“I said… why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Jungkook’s eyes leave yours, they move all around the place as he mind races. What can he say?

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers.

Your eyes go wide as hell, biggest they’ve ever been. “No. No.” You quickly walk towards him, you shove his chest. Jungkook pinches his brows together as he stumbles back.

“You will not give me that bullshit, Jungkook.” You cry out.

“Just tell me how I can make this up to you so we can move on…” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest.

“So we can move on? How dare you? You fucked up, Jeon Jungkook!” You struggle to find a breath as you cry, “tell me why!”

Jungkook frowns as he watches you, his heart breaking, He can’t tell you why. His mind takes him back to 3 years ago when he made a promise with himself, he would never tell you why.

“You’re going to lose me Jungkook.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Do you want that?”

Jungkook feels his heart pounding. Lose you? No, he can’t…

3 years ago

You haven’t talked to him in weeks…and it’s pure torture. He is feeling the same pain he felt when his mom left him. Not the exact same pain…but the feeling of loss is there and it hurts.

You are without a doubt the most important lady in his life and he fucked it all up. He should of never... Why did things have to escalate like that? Why did he have to brush it off like it was nothing? Because now you aren’t talking to him. Is this going to…ruin your friendship?

Jungkook doesn’t think he could handle that. Could he handle another loss like that? No. He needs you in his life, he needs you. He thought…you wanted it. Wanted him. But he was wrong. And he is willing to do anything to go back to how things were before…he wants nothing more than to have your friendship. He swears he will never, never jeopardize your friendship again, no matter how empty it might make him feel.

One month. It took one month for you to finally respond to his texts and agree to meet up. You showed up at his apartment wearing your sweet smile and he broke down crying in front of you for the first time. You sat him down and rubbed his back, whispering words of comfort.

“Let’s just…never talk about it.” You continue to pat his back. Jungkook lifts his head and nods slowly.

“Okay…” he agrees,

“We don’t want to risk our friendship.” You rub the center of his back and he flutters his eyes shut. “Promise?”

Jungkook nods his head again. He promises he will never bring it up, bring up his…his…he promises he will never bring it up. He has to bury this. Because he won’t risk anything with you. He won’t lose you. He won’t make you uncomfortable again, he won’t cause damage to this friendship. He will be best friend Jungkook and that’s it. Because that’s what you want.

The flashbacks are too overwhelming for Jungkook, his memories flooding his body and he’s beginning to drown. His breathing becomes harsher, the loud breaths filling your ears.

“J-Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares at you with his mouth wide open, he tries to speak but no words come out.

“Hey?” you walk closer to him but he takes a clumsy step back.

“Lose you?” he finally manages to stutter out, his eyes wet with unfallen tears.

“Just tell me why, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft this time and he chokes on a quiet sob, his tears beginning to spill.

You walk closer and Jungkook steps back until his back is against the front door, he wipes his sweaty palms on his sweats. These feelings…he doesn’t want to taste their familiarity. He breathes deeply and screws his eyes shut.

“y/n…” he whimpers.

“Just tell me, Jungkook.” You’re standing just in front of him, your chest almost touching his. You tilt your head up and your hands travel up his arms until they’re cupping the back of his head.

Jungkook hesitantly opens his eyes and stares down into your eyes.

He stares down at your face and he admires all your features…he observes how creamy your skin looks, how your eyes crinkle at the edges, how your eyebrows crease slightly as you frown and how pretty and pouty your lips look. His eyes never leave your face as he takes you in. Cute. That’s how he usually views you. But today, right now, you look absolutely beautiful.

Jungkook feels his heart starting to thump wildly in his chest and he grows anxious. He can’t view you that way. He won’t. But his eyes linger on your lips and you look at him with such a cute, confused expression and he can’t help but lean a little closer. He can’t do this. He won’t do this. The anxiety grows and grows but he gets closer and closer. Your eyes begin to flutter shut and before he knows it, his lips find yours. His mouth slants over your own in a long, hot and maybe even a little sloppy kiss. His lips are plush against your own, they move in desperation at first but come to a slower pace. He begins savoring you. But you don’t move. You are in a state of shock.

Before you know it, Jungkook is unfortunately moving away from you. His lips disconnecting from yours and a look of horror is plastered on his face.

“Sorry I—”

You stare at him in shock, not able to speak.

“y/n… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry—”

And then you’re snorting. A light hearted giggle escapes your lips and you go to cover your mouth from the slip.

Jungkook continues to look horrified, totally and completely terrified of your reaction.

“Sorry, it’s just…” you continue to laugh, “This reminds me of the first time we kissed.” You say softly, a small smile decorating your face.

Jungkook frowns at your words, taking a moment to think.

“It does?” he says, but then he remembers how it went and a soft smile begins to make an appearance.

“Yeah.”

“I dare you to kiss y/n” Jimin says with an evil smirk. You choke on the drink you have in hand once you process his words, eyes wide in terror. Kiss you? Jungkook? Your best friend?

Everyone in the room starts whooping and hollering at the idea but you shake your hands in front on you in denial.

“No, no. We can’t do that!” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut at the idea.

“Yeah, no way in hell am I kissing her.” You hear Jungkook say harshly from beside you.

You don’t know why but that kind of sucks to hear. You feel a pang in your chest, why did he have to say it like that? You mean, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like you were disgusting right?

“Uh yeah.” You say, your mood obviously shifting.

“That’s literally the last thing I want to do!” You hear Jungkook cackle. “someone else can do the honors” he continues to bark loudly, his laughter filling the room.

Jimin frowns, his hands clasping together. “Fine, I dare you to kiss Amber instead.”

“That, I can do.” Jungkook smirks.

How is your best friend making you feel so rejected? You feel your heart drop to your stomach and your stomach drop to the floor. Amber is pretty…probably Jungkook’s type. Although you thought Jungkook didn’t have a type. But whatever it is, it isn’t you.

“I’m gonna go get something more to drink,” you say to no one as you stand to your feet and begin heading out the door. But you feel a body behind you and you know it’s Jungkook. You roll your eyes, feeling annoyed.

The party is still going hard when you make your way downstairs again, you weave through the crowd to get to the kitchen to fetch yourself another beer.

“y/n! Wait up!” you hear Jungkook call from behind you but you decide to ignore him.

You find the cooler of beers and grab yourself one, the chilling beer freezing against your fingertips. You crack it open and begin chugging it back, enjoying the carbonation that sizzled down your throat.

“Slow down Lightning McQueen.” Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap.

“What’s with you?” he quirks a brow, looking adorable while doing so.

“What are you doing here?” you snap again, “Shouldn’t you be like, making out with Selena or whatever her name is.”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his doe eyes big and bright, “Selena? Oh! You mean Amber? Nah, I saw you leaving so I came with you.” He smiles, “I told you no girls tonight. I am spending new year with you.”

You blink at him in surprise, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook always keeps his word to you.

“Want to go outside?” he asks, heading nodding towards the back door.

“It’s cold, Jungkook!”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He winks then transitions into a soft smile, “Promise.”

The two of you walk outside, it is pretty damn cold, your skirt and crop top barely doing enough to keep you warm.

“Here.” Jungkook is shrugging off his jacket and handing it you.

“Thanks” you shiver, slipping on the warm, fuzzy coat. “Will you be fine?” you question.

“Only if you come snuggle with me.”

“Do these lines work on most girls?”

“Usually all of them.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

You giggle and move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle. Even though it’s like 20 degrees outside, Jungkook is unbelievably warm.

Jungkook pulls his phone out to check the time, huffing when he sees there’s still a few more minutes until midnight

“So how many girls did you have to reject tonight?” You ask with a snicker. Jungkook raises a brow in question, “Like, ‘oohh Jungkook please be my new years kiss??’ ya know, shit like that.” You mock.

“Oh that? No girls lining up tonight.”

“Why’s that? You shut em all down early?”

Jungkook sways back and forth, your body clinging on to his, “I think they all see me with you tonight and are laying off.”

You scoff at his words, “Right, because I have stopped them before.” You roll your eyes.

“Ha, you never know.” Jungkook takes another look at his phone, “Oh less than a minute.” He says with the shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Wanna be my kiss Jeon?” the words slip out of your mouth almost killing you in the process. You can’t believe you just asked that, “Just kidding, you would rather have someone else kiss me, right?” you huff, saving yourself.

Jungkook chokes on his spit as he tries to swallow down your words, “W-What?”

“Nothing.”

Jungkook obviously heard you loud and clear. Did you actually want to be kissed by him?

5

4

3

2

1

Cheers of your classmates erupt besides you and you cannot help but smile at everyone’s happiness.

“It’s nice right? Every—”

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying before Jungkook’s chapped lips were on yours. His mouth is warm and inviting but you don’t make yourself at home. Instead, you stand absolutely still as Jungkook innocently moves his lips over yours. Before you can really react, Jungkook is pulling away: absolutely horrified.

“y/n…I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry,” Jungkook is quick to stutter out.

You are frozen. You wish you could blame something, anything, wish you could blame the flurries that floated down to the earths ground, wish you could blame the below freezing weather and your short mini skirt, wish you could blame anything for why you are standing absolutely frozen.

You wish you could move, but the universe just won’t allow it.

“Oh my god, y/n…I really am sorry…fuck…” Jungkook’s wide eyes are focused on his feet as he threads his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please forget about th—”

Jungkook’s lips may be a bit chapped but they are as soft and fluffy as you have once imagined. With your lips back on his, you take charge. You quickly move them over his, he hums in satisfaction. Your fingers find themselves in his dark locks, pushing up into his soft hair as his hand moves to cup your jaw.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and moan into his mouth when you feel him jerk his hips into yours.

“Let’s go to your place.” You heavily breathe out, your fingers dragging down the side of his face.

Jungkook disconnects himself from you, stepping back a good foot, inspecting your face,

“You sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure.”

“Are you thinking about that night?” You ask, your voice low.

“No.” he lies, “We promised we would never talk about it y/n. We don’t want to risk our friendship…” he pushes you back by the shoulders—gently, of course. “We need to forget about this kiss too. I fucked up. You’re in a bad place right now—”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. The guy you had feelings for was fucking using you y/n, of course you’re not fine.”

“Would if I want to kiss you Jungkook?”

You don’t believe your own ears as you ask that, but god, you have been holding all this in for 3 years. And he kissed you.

“You don’t. You’re throwing yourself at me because you’re in a bad place.”

You scoff, not believing his choice of words, “Throwing myself?”

“You—you know what I mean.”

“We agreed, didn’t we?” you take a step towards him. “We would never talk about that night, ya know, to save our friendship or whatever.” Another step. “But would If I don’t care anymore?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t care about our friendship anymore?” his tone soft and almost sad.

“I just mean, I wonder what more…no, forget it.”

“Yeah, forget it. You’re just sad about Taehyung.” He says more seriously. He backs himself into the wall, he continues to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants.

He…he isn’t wrong. You know what? You are sad. You’re sad Taehyung thought to use you the way he did…you’re sad your best friend didn’t tell you about it. And for what? Because he apparently has a secret of his own? Great, just another thing you don’t know about him. You don’t want to cry and you don’t think you will but that tightness in your throat is apparent and warning you of oncoming tears.

Jungkook lets out a frustrated breath as he pulls you back in to his chest…and you’re too weak to resist. You wrap your arms around him and breathe him in, his scent filling you up and making you feel more at home over and over again.

Jungkook’s hand trails up from your waist to the back of your head, he hated seeing you like this.

The first time Jungkook saw you cry was a couple of years ago in an abandoned parking lot in his old beat up car. Your boyfriend had just broken up with you and you let all the emotions build to the point that when the seatbelt wouldn’t god damn buckle, you lost it. You sat there struggling with the seatbelt trying to click it in the stupid hole thing and it just wouldn’t. Jungkook just watched you with pity as you continued to curse at it for not clicking. You finally gave up, letting the seatbelt crash against the side of the car as the water works began.

You cried like a baby, the tears falling helplessly and Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He knew not to ask why your boyfriend broke up with you but he had a hunch and he was eaten alive by guilt. It was probably the same reason the boyfriend before that broke up with you. Him.

You are obviously growing frustrated but you never, not once, took it out on Jungkook. Instead, you would say it’s fine that you hardly liked them anyway. But he also knew that was almost always a lie. You had this boyfriend that was more serious than the others—he felt it, he knew that this boyfriend would become priority and Jungkook had to be okay with that. But before things could deepen and become more serious…he dumped you.

This was the first time you actually cried over one of your breakups and Jungkook felt heartbroken, he felt lost and confused. This was his fault for being so close to you? But he chooses to be selfish again and again. Because he never distances himself from you, no, instead he somehow always becomes closer. He’s selfish and he knows why.

“Maybe you should take a nap…” Jungkook doesn’t want you to go to sleep. He just doesn’t want you to go. But he has to let you go…in more ways than one.

“Sleepover?” You don’t want to be alone right now.

“Not right now…” he gently pulls you off his body, his head tilted down to get a good look at you.

“I think we need some space y/n.” He almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, your face falls into a deep frown and he wants to take it back but he can’t.

“What do you mean?” You reach up to caress his face but he pushes his head back.

“I need time.” He states.

You begin shaking your head as you start to panic.

“Time for what?” you ask desperately.

“We just…don’t…” his words fall ill on his tongue, they’re on the verge of death but he pushes them out regardless.

“We aren’t working right now…I don’t know how else to say it.”

You shake your head more frantically.

“No Jungkook…” the tears that wouldn’t fall earlier begin to slide down your cheeks as you realize what he is saying.

“I’ll stay at Jimin’s for a while.”

“Jungkook please…I cannot be without you…” you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

“You can.” His hand reaches up to wipe away a few stray tears and you lean into his touch, loving the warmth his hand provides.

“I can’t.” you whimper into your shoulder, trying to hide your face. “What happened to ‘never leaving you’ huh?” you spit out.

“I’ll always be here for you y/n but right now I just need some time to think.” He says quietly, almost ashamed.

“Think about what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him and you wince at your own volume. What the hell does Jungkook even need to think about?

Jungkook knows that this is selfish but he has to…he has to put some distance until he can handle things again.

“y/n.” his tone warning you to be careful. Jungkook wants nothing more than to hold you and be here for you but for his own god damn sake he needs to get out of here, for his own fucking heart.

“I’ll be back in a few days, I promise…” he pleads, holding on to your waist again. “Just please give me a few days.”

You look into his giant doe eyes and you melt. You exhale through your nose and give him a troubled smile.

“Just a few days?” you look down at your feet, finding your shoes to be fascinating.

“I promise.”

Little did you know this was going to be the first promise Jungkook ever broke.

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

I Saw You Trying, My Love

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: ok so this is long, and angry. It all happened because I really wanted to explore the headcanon that Wilhemina would be very possessive and very jealous if she were in a relationship. How would that relationship work? Could it work? I hope you’ll enjoy this piece, lovelies <3

Word count: ~ 8 200   

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Wilhemina’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and angry.

You ignored her. You kept shoving the contents of your wardrobe into your bag.

“I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I heard you the first time,” you snapped. You threw one last pair of socks – your favourite, fluffy and glittery – into your bag and gave it a shake. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

You zipped up your bag and stomped past Wilhemina out of the room you had shared with her for the past two months. She must have realized how serious you were, by then, because she followed close behind you. She had never done that before when you had had a fight. She was too proud to run after you like a desperate child. Usually she would let you walk off and wait for you to blow off steam. But today, the sound of her cane followed you down the stairs and into the living room as you went around it, grabbing items you would need – your book, your glasses, your phone charger. Wilhemina’s watch. You threw that back on the couch when you realized what it was.

“Has your brain turned to mush? Where do you plan to go? You have nowhere to go to, Y/N.”

Wilhemina positioned herself in the doorway, blocking your way, both her hands gripping her cane. You came to a halt in front of her and scowled.

“I’m not a baby, Wilhemina,” you retorted, your face mere inches from hers. Your words were thick with anger. “I’ll get along just fine without you. Actually, I’ll be better off without you. Now move.”

She stood her ground, glaring back at you.

“What are you gonna do?” you hissed. “Uh? Lock me up? Bring me food once a day, torture me? Are you going to lock me up in here until you break me and turn me into the obedient pet you wish I were?” You paused to take a breath. “Is that your plan, Mina, my love?” You all but spat the last two words at her like a curse.

For a second you recoiled. You hadn’t meant to do that, turn a term of endearment, a promise of care and tenderness whispered so many times before to soothe and comfort and reassure, into poison. But on second thought, you were glad you had. She deserved the sting.

“I don’t –“she started, but you interrupted her.

“For God’s sake I have the right to spend time with my friends! Not all my life revolve around you, Wilhemina! You cannot keep me with you every minute of every day like a fucking dog!” A fresh bout of fury rose to your head and took control of you. “I can spend time with other people, I can enjoy myself without you! But what I can’t stand is you snapping at me and calling me names every time I so much as smile to someone else! I’ve had enough.” You lowered your arms in defeat, shaking your head at her. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving. Move.”

Wilhemina’s face was hard and angry, her jaw clenched tight, her poise proud and dominating, but her eyes – you had always been able to tell what she truly felt by looking into her eyes. They were your favourite thing to stare at, not only because it was so easy to get lost in them, but because they were the key to understanding her. The key that opened the safe where she hid herself when she did not know how to communicate or thought she had to lie to keep herself safe. Her eyes were always, always honest. Especially with you. You took one look at them now and then had to look away before your resolve left you.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To Maggie’s place.”

Wilhemina scoffed bitterly. “Why, of course. Right into the arms of the daft prostitute.”

“Mina she’s my best-friend since high-school,” you growled, raising your free hand to rub your forehead in frustration. “Please don’t insult her.”

“And what a friend indeed. Always so eager to please, so eager to have you all by herself so that she can lay her dirty little hands on your arm or - ”

“This is what best-friends do!” you roared.

Wilhemina didn’t even flinch.

“Why don’t you screw her tonight?”

“Alright, you – you know what, I’ve had enough.”

You pushed past her, and you must have been too brutal, or maybe she had been unsteady to begin with; in any case, she dropped her cane, and her knees gave way. She winced as she braced herself for the fall, for the pain – but you wrapped your arms around her waist to support her, and held her against you. “I’ve got you,” you whispered into her hair.

Time froze. Silence fell. You closed your eyes, nuzzling your nose in her hair. What were you doing? Leaving her? Ridiculous. As if you could live without her. You pressed her closer against you, feeling like you could burst into laughter at your own excessive behavior. This was just like any other fight you had had with Wilhemina before, nothing you could not mend. Leaving this house, leaving this woman, had never been an option. It would mean leaving your heart. Leaving a part you wouldn’t – couldn’t – survive without.

You dropped a kiss on her forehead and were about to pull away. To cup her face and kiss her mouth and laugh with her at how stupid, how childish you were.

But then you remembered. All the times she had gone too far. All the snapping and the hurting and the possessive, jealous, unhealthy behavior. Earlier this afternoon she had slapped one of your coworkers and friends for “standing too close to you”. It was the first time she had used physical violence. The last straw.

You knew where it all came from, the insecurity and the fear and the pain. But that did not make it acceptable.  

Gently, you let her go, picked up your bag and made for the front door.

“Y/N?”

She followed you down the corridor, stopped a few inches away from you as you turned the key in the lock. You felt her hand brush your elbow, but she did not touch you. Somehow it was this, her hesitation, that broke your heart.

“Don’t come after me,” you told her over your shoulder.

“Y/N don’t you dare –“

You opened the door, ignoring her, closing your eyes against the setting sun and the tears that were starting to pool. Wilhemina’s voice rose behind you again, not angry anymore, but shaking, and terrified. She was terrified.

“Y/N don’t you – “

You slammed the door behind you and ran down the driveway to your car, afraid you’d turn back and fall into her arms if you stopped for one second.

It hurt. It felt like your heart had been torn out of your chest. You opened the door of your car with shaky hands, sobs wracking your body, barely seeing anything through your tears.

You didn’t remember much after that. You must have driven all the way to Maggie’s. Knocked on her door, with your bag in one hand and sobs bubbling out of your throat. She must have let you in, asked you, were you alright, was Wilhemina alright – perhaps she hugged you. Certainly she made you some tea, for Maggie was one of those people who believe tea can make everything better. As if you had not irremediably broken what you cherished most.  

You must have drunk your tea, to please Maggie.

The bed in her spare room was big and comfortable. The sheets smelt of fresh peaches. You spent the rest of the evening cocooned in their warmth, alternating between dozing and sobbing into the pillows. When night fell, Maggie brought you dinner on a tray. She sat beside you as you swallowed what your stomach could hold. And then she asked you what had happened.

You hadn’t been able to tell her yet. You’d thought that, perhaps, if you kept it a secret, your leaving Wilhemina wouldn’t be real. You would be able to go back home and find her there waiting for you. She would rise when she’d hear you come in, and she would smile that fond smile of hers and wrap you up in her arms and kiss you slow and sweet. Somehow, all of your problems would be gone.  

It didn’t work like that. You knew it didn’t. But still, you couldn’t help but hope.

Maggie didn’t believe you, at first. She gawked at you, then narrowed her eyes and scrutinized your face. She was naive, Maggie. Very romantic. She believed love was stronger than everything else. She had spent five minutes with you and Wilhemina and proclaimed with tears in her eyes that she had never seen two people more in love. It simply wasn’t possible for you to be without Wilhemina, and for Wilhemina to be without you. You would cease to exist. The world would explode.

But then, as you dissolved into tears again, unable to finish your story as you desperately clang to her, her face fell. She let out a small “oh” that sounded so surprised, so final, so defeated. It rang in your ears like a bell mourning death.

You didn’t go to work the day after. Nor the day after that. You knew Wilhemina would be at Kineros, knew she was too hardworking to even consider taking a day off. Hell, Wilhemina could be dying of pneumonia, she would still drive to work and sit at her desk and boss everyone around. Throwing snarky comments like knives at frightened employees, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. You could picture her, sitting straight and proud in her chair, with her cane leaning against her desk and her hair tied in that high ponytail you loved so much, for it accentuated her sharp cheekbones. Had she taken off the photograph on her desk? Of you and her, on a sunny day in the countryside a year ago, a few days after you had started dating. Your hand on her cheek, your teeth on her chin, her eyes half-closed and crinkled up with laughter.

You wouldn’t have gone to work even if Wilhemina hadn’t been there. There was no point anymore. You had never really cared for the job anyway. The only thing that had made life interesting had been Wilhemina.

So you spent hours in bed until the sheets no longer smelt of fresh peaches but of your sweat and tears. You went for a run with Maggie. You tried to keep yourself busy, read a book, watched movies, cleaned Maggie’s house. You knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life at Maggie’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It became harder to get up in the morning. Harder to fall asleep at night. So you daydreamed and thought of Wilhemina. To soothe the pain of her absence. You thought of her face in the morning, still soft from sleep. That magic moment when she would wake and those big, brown, doe eyes of hers would meet yours and smile. How deftly she would do her hair, ponytail always perfectly centered. How sometimes, while she waited for the water to boil for her tea, she would stare out the window and get lost in the view.  

One day it struck you how often Maggie did touch you. She was a very touchy-feely person, had always been: she would pat your shoulder or hold your hand or stroke your arm or kiss your cheek. It was innocent, she behaved like that with everyone. But now you realized how it must have looked to someone as insecure as Wilhemina.

Maggie was beautiful. All blue eyes and soft strawberry blond locks and pink cheeks and pretty flowery dresses. She was soft, and selfless, and very kind, and everyone adored her. She taught French at the University. Had a fiancé, wanted to start a family. Exercised every day. She was normal and healthy – more than that, she was perfect in every way. No rough edges, no high walls, no back pains that kept her up all night, no early appointments to the doctor’s, no days that could be ruined by one glance at her reflection in the mirror. Maggie had found her place in the world and the world cherished her.

And yet – and yet how brighter Wilhemina shone in your head. She was a lighthouse, Maggie a candle. How much more precious and rare Wilhemina was. There were a million things in her that singled her out as one of the most fascinating person you had met. How she could make a witty comment on something the likes of Maggie would never notice in the first place. How she would stare right into the eyes of whatever scared her and defeat it with patience and determination. How deeply, how fiercely she loved.

On the eighth morning without her you woke up completely panicked and haunted by the knowledge that she was hurting on her own. She would never tell anyone she needed help, she had never allowed anyone but you to see her vulnerable. She would push on through her days as if everything was perfectly fine and go back every night to a dark, cold, lonely house where everything would remind her of you. Did she get enough sleep? Was she even eating? It seemed likely to you she would use food deprivation to punish herself. Eating the bare minimum to make it through the day without collapsing.

You asked Maggie to check on her. She drove to your house one evening and came back in a sour mood. Oh, Wilhemina was just fine, she jeered. Her usual pleasant, cheerful self. She had opened the door, taken one look at her, and sent her off with a scoff. Maggie was so angry she spilled most of her drink on the floor. And despite it all, you couldn’t help but smile.

In the morning of the tenth day, after Maggie had gone to work, you came downstairs and slumped on the living room couch. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so you had opened all the windows and the front door to let the draft in. You prayed the fresh air would take away some of the ache in your chest. Or maybe a murderer would walk into the house and put an end to your misery.  

You were starting to doze off when you heard a knock on the front door. You started, and sleepily called out “It’s open”.

Silence, as if whoever stood outside hadn’t quite made up their mind to come in yet. You yawned, scratched your head. The sound of a cane tapping on the floor filled the hall.

For a second you felt you were about to faint. Then your body sprang up, eyes wide-opened, heart pounding in your ears.

You sat down on a nearby chair facing the door. Ran a hand through your hair, straightened your clothes. You waited.

Tap. Tap. The sound of her cane brought tears to your eyes – for how you had missed it. Not so much the sound itself but the promise that came with it, seeing her, being with her. Love and happiness and everything that mattered in the world.

The tapping stopped. You raised your head. Your racing heart leaped out of your chest straight into her hands, like a fledgling that had left its nest too soon and flew back trembling and terrified to the safety of home. How stupid you had been to leave at all.

She stood in the doorway more beautiful than you remembered her, because so painfully missed, so hoped for, so loved.

She looked tired, but fine – not exhausted, not starved, not over-worked. Thank God. Some of the tension that had been building in your shoulders vanished. You searched her face for signs of emotions and truth behind her facade, but could find none. Even her eyes were inscrutable.

For a few, agonizingly long seconds you both stayed silent, glaring at each other, both of you too proud to lower your eyes or look away first. Then Wilhemina took a breath and opened her mouth, and your body leaned towards her in expectation.

“Your productivity at work this past week was astonishing,” she said.

Right. You straightened in your seat, and crossed your legs.

Wilhemina waited, but as no answer came from you she added: “Do you intend to get fired?”

“If you’ve come here to scold me, you can leave now,” you mumbled. Your hand started rubbing circles on your knee. “I’m not interested.”

Another pause. You picked a book on the coffee table and stared intently at it. The silence was painful. From the corridor came the ticking of the clock hung on the wall. You could just make out Wilhemina’s purple shoes and pale ankles out of the corner of your eye.

When the silence became intolerable, you tilted your head just enough to shoot her an angry glance and snapped: “Why are you here?”

Wilhemina tapped her cane threateningly on the floor. That didn’t faze you. Not anymore.

“I’m here,” she said in that low, slow voice she always used when she was mad, “as your superior and as Kineros Robotics’ HR manager, to remind you that you have a job and that you are expected to actually show up at your workplace.”

Was she getting enough sleep? Only now did you realize that she was leaning on her cane a bit more heavily than usual. Was her back hurting her? Did she even take her pain medicine? On several occasions before she had refused to, as a form of punishment against her disability. You had had to coax and beg for her to finally agree to swallow the pill.  

“I expect you to answer me when I talk to you.” Wilhemina’s voice, sharp and angry, brought you back from your thoughts. You glanced up at her again.

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“If you do not go back to work tomorrow I will have to dismiss you.”

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“Your unjustified absence is quite simply intolerable.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you repeated.

Another pause. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Anger and irritation had subsided and been replaced by a sort of numbness that still had an aftertaste of want. You stared at the book, your fingers still rubbing circles on your knee as you listened to the ticking of the clock in the corridor.

Wilhemina spoke, and this time her voice wavered on the last word. “When are you coming back?”

She meant to work, of course. You lifted your head, met her eyes. She meant come home.

“I’m not coming back,” you answered, keeping your voice casual to hide the fact that your heart was breaking yet again, small pieces drifting away and colliding with each other.

“What do you want me to do?” Wilhemina cried, her eyes widening in exasperation. “Crawl at your feet and beg for mercy?”

She barely ever raised her voice. Her anger and contempt were always expressed in a dangerously slow and low tone. A high, raised voice meant she felt cornered. It meant her self-control was slipping away. It meant her facade was breaking.

You leaned towards her in your seat, hope seeping in your veins.

“How about you start by apologizing to Pat?” you said, as casually as before.

“Who’s Pat?”

“My co-worker and friend you so kindly slapped in the face last week. And to Eva, whose fingers you threatened to clip off one by one because she had the audacity to touch my hand. And to Maggie. You called her such terrible names when all she did was being there for me. Do you see the problem, Mina?”

Your little speech had made you angry again, bad memories flooding your brain, so it was a surprise when her nickname slipped out of your mouth. It seemed to quiet her for a second. Her shoulders relaxed. She even took a tentative step towards you. But then her face hardened again, and when she spoke her voice was back under control.

“I will do no such thing,” she snapped, tapping her cane on the floor. “All those idiots you mentioned had it coming.”

You sighed and slumped back into your seat. You knew what she was doing. Suddenly you were brought back to the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of you. It had been one evening in the second week of your relationship. She had had a bad day, and her back was hurting her, and the only way she had found to express that – the only way she had known how – had been by snapping at you for overcooking the pasta. You had been about to snap back, when an apology had slipped out of her. Soft and unexpected. You had fallen silent in surprise. Her hands had started to fidget, and she had looked angry with herself, couldn’t meet your eyes, couldn’t find anything more to say, couldn’t stop fidgeting. So you had hugged her, run her a bath, made love to her, brushed her hair until most of the tension had left her body.

Snapping was her way of protecting herself, you knew that. But still – it hurt, and you had had enough.

“Well then, please, leave,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and raising one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So you can be in the delightful company of Maggie the Cat?” she snapped.

“Oh for God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you sighed, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

“Sweet, sweet Margaret,” she sneered, taking one more step towards you, her hands shaking. “With her sweet maiden face and her cheerful disposition. So charming, so lovely. She’s part of that disgusting group of radiant fools who will lead the world to its demise with their shallowness and their stupidity.”

You jumped to your feet. “Maggie is my friend,” you growled, planting yourself a few inches from her, your whole body hot with anger. “If you loved me as you claim you do, if you had an ounce of respect for me, you wouldn’t say such things about her!”

Something on her face changed at your words. You couldn’t tell what exactly, but a feeling of dread suddenly came over you.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor, raised her chin and hissed, “Maybe I don’t. Love you, at all. Maybe I only used you for company.”

You took a step back, reeling as her words echoed in your head. You knew she was lying. What you two had shared had been too strong to be fake. She had trusted you with things and parts of herself she had never told or shown anyone before. She had let you love her and trusted you would not hurt her.

In a better world you would have been able to control your anger. You would have taken a few deep breaths to calm yourself and put your hands on Wilhemina’s shoulders and told her for the hundredth time what she obviously still needed to hear – that in your heart, Maggie did not hold a candle to her. That Maggie was your friend and you loved her, but not the way you loved Wilhemina. That you would go to Hell for her and beat Lucifer’s ass if it meant keeping her safe.

But this was the real world, where battered souls keep hurting each other. Anger burnt in you like a fire and filled your brain with smoke until you could no longer think. Only fight back.  

“Maybe I did, too,” you snarled.

You saw her hesitate. You saw her snarky retort die on her lips as she took in your words. And for a moment it felt great. To know you could still affect her, still peel off her layers and press the pads of your fingers on bare skin. But you had only ever stroked before; never scratched.

The tap of her cane on the floor surprised you, for it sounded weaker than usual. It did not bounce off the walls but fell at her feet like a weak preemie and died.

“If you do not show up tomorrow at 8 then don’t bother coming back at all,” Wilhemina commanded. “Kineros will do just fine without you.”

She was staring at something above your left shoulder, and she was breathing too fast, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. When she felt your gaze on her face she briefly shifted her eyes to yours. She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Mina,” you started, taking a step towards her. She raised one hand to stop you.

“That will be all,” she said, and wiped the tear away.

You let her turn on her heel, walk down the corridor and close the front door behind her. You stood as if petrified in the middle of Maggie’s living room, until something in you broke. You grabbed the book on the coffee table, hurled it at the wall, and screamed.

When Maggie came home that evening, she walked into your room with a moody, “What happened to Virginia Woolf?” She waved the battered book at you until you turned and she saw your face.

“Oh, babydoll, what’s wrong?”

She held you as you sobbed and wailed. She stroked your hair and whispered sweet-nothings to calm you down. It only made you cry harder, for it reminded you of all the times Wilhemina had comforted you. How she, too, had held you close and tried to find the right words to stop your tears. But Maggie was taller and stouter. Her body did not fit yours as Wilhemina’s did. When you eventually took a long breath in through your nose, her perfume smelt wrong. Too sweet, too floral.

You didn’t show up at 8 at Kineros the day after. It had been hard to care before, now it was simply impossible. You stayed in bed, wishing you could disappear into the sheets. You ignored Maggie’s encouragements and reproaches. You didn’t care.

Maggie brought you water and food, which you nibbled at mechanically. Time passed. You dozed often, but never slept.

Time kept on passing. You waited. You weren’t quite sure for what.

On the third day your phone rang. You reached out for it, and accepted the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your voice raspy from disuse.

“Oh, Y/N?” said a familiar voice. “I thought you were dead.”

“Jeff.” You closed your eyes. “Look,” you started, “I know I haven’t – “

“What have you done to Venable?” Jeff cut you off.

Your eyes opened. “What do you mean?” you asked, your grip on your phone tightening.

“She hasn’t shown up for the past three days.” There was a loud noise at the other end of the line, then Jeff’s voice again. “Last week she was even more bitchy than usual, and now she’s gone. I don’t know where the file I need is, I missed all of my appointments and what’s worse, we’ve run out of coke. I can’t be a genius if I’m not high. Y/N?”

You barely heard him call your name. You could barely breathe from fear.

“Y/N, you still here?”

“Yeah, I –“ You swallowed around the lump in your throat.“Are you sure she’s not at Kineros?”

“I’m at Kineros, Y/N, and Venable isn’t,” Jeff answered, annoyed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I won’t let your sapphic affairs ruin my company.”

“I – “You stood up on shaky legs. You had to move, you had to do something to keep the panic at bay. It wasn’t like Wilhemina to miss work. She’d rather die than shun her responsibilities. And three days in a row? Something must have happened to her. Your brain started making up all kinds of dreadful scenarios in which she had been hurt, hit by a car, abducted, in which she had locked herself up in her room without food or water, jumped from a bridge, bought a plane ticket to some faraway country where you would never find her.

“Y/N?” came Jeff’s voice, interrupting the mad race of your thoughts.

“Yes, I – “You forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Venable isn’t my responsibility,” you heard yourself say.

“Look, Y/N,” Jeff retorted, his voice growing angry. “You’re expendable, Venable is not. We need her. I don’t care what you do, but you better make sure she comes back tomorrow.” And with that he hung up.

For a few seconds you stood petrified with your phone still pressed against your ear. And then you jumped into action. You dressed, grabbed your handbag, flew down the stairs and in your haste nearly collided with the door of your car. You forced yourself to drive under the speed limit on your way to your house. Dying wouldn’t help.

Part of you realized that it felt good. The life pumping into your veins again. You felt like you had finally woken up.

You parked on the sidewalk in front of your house, too impatient to maneuver your car up the driveway. You ran to the door and knocked on it. You closed your eyes as you waited, panting. You sent a prayer to whomever you could think of – please let her be okay. You didn’t care how mad you were with her anymore. Just, let her be okay.

The door opened. You looked up.

Wilhemina was wearing an old, faded lilac sweater and a pair of black cotton shorts. Her hair was down. She had no make-up on. When her eyes met yours, her face didn’t harden or fall or change at all; she merely held your gaze, as if she were too tired or too numb to react.

“You’re here,” you breathed out in relief. You could have burst into tears of joy at the sight of her alive and safe.

“I only own one house,” she said dully.

“Right, of course, I know.” You scratched your head nervously. “Er, Jeff called. He’s, er, worried about you.”

Wilhemina watched you unblinkingly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. It was all you could do to stop yourself from collapsing into her arms and kiss her senseless.

“He said you haven’t been to work for three days,” you tried.

“And why,” she said, “do you care?” There was no trace of animosity in her voice. In fact, there was nothing at all. No emotion. No life.

“He asked me to come check on you.”

Shit. You could have slapped yourself. Wilhemina’s face did harden, then, and she made as if to close the door, but before she had time to you cried out: “No, wait, that came out wrong. Please.” You held up a hand. Wilhemina waited. “He told me you hadn’t shown up in days, and I got worried. That’s why I came. Not because he asked me to.”

She watched you for a few seconds more, then lowered her gaze. Her left hand came up to fidget with the hem of her shorts. She looked so small in those clothes, so young and so fragile. Tears stung your eyes. You blinked them back.

“Can I come in?” you tried.

Her eyes met yours. Please, you begged her in your head. Please, let me in. Please, give us this chance to make it right. Your heart was beating so fast it was starting to hurt.

Eternity passed before she finally – oh what bliss! – stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, got a whiff of her perfume mixed with the faint smell of sweat. She ran a hand through her hair nervously, leaning slightly away from you to close the door.

The house was exactly as you had left it, and yet it looked so different. Quieter, somehow, and a bit battered, as if it had just come back from the battlefield to rest and mourn its departed friends. Your footsteps echoed loudly down the corridor as you walked to the living room. You took off your shoes and shoved them in a corner. To make a point. That you didn’t mean to leave until you had talked things through.

Wilhemina stopped in the doorway and waited.

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled. “For letting me in.” As if it weren’t your house, too. But that wasn’t the point.

Wilhemina nodded. Silence fell. You looked around the room nervously, at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” you finally blurted out. Wilhemina glared at you. “Right. Sorry, stupid question.” You swallowed hard. “Have you, um, have you eaten? I could make something.”

“Who am I to stop you?” Wilhemina answered flatly. “We both know how you need to keep yourself busy when you’re nervous.”

“It’s not about me,” you countered. “I was wondering when you last ate, that’s all.”

She held your gaze for a few more seconds, then proceeded to walk around the room to rearrange things – a candle on a shelf, the cushions on the couch, anything. You watched her, noticed the slight shaking of her hand, how tightly she was gripping her cane. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leaned forward. She briskly pushed it back.

When there was nothing left for her to tidy, she sat on the couch and opened a book.

You stared at her profile, your hands twitching at your sides. Wanting nothing more than to reach out. Sit by her side. Hold her close. Sink into her warmth.

You cleared your throat, and went into the kitchen.

It did help, having something to do with your hands. It relieved some of the ache in your chest. You were too preoccupied to be creative, so you settled on frozen Yangzhou fried rice and an endive salad. Substantial, but easy to eat. In case she was feeling as nauseous as you were.  

You were cutting the endives when you heard Wilhemina call from the other room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Alright,” you called back, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the door. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

You listened to the sound of running water as the rice thawed out. Thought of the right words to say. Part of you wanted to forgive her without further ado and pretend nothing had happened. But that would only buy you more time. Until the next insult, the next fight. Anger swelled in you like a wave as you remembered Pat’s perplexed face, lifting a hand to his cheek where Wilhemina had hit him. His own outburst, “What the hell is wrong with her?!”, Wilhemina’s cold, unreadable expression. The fear in her voice when you had slammed the door behind you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. The only way you could think of to make things right was to have Wilhemina truly, fully open up to you. Convince her that sharing her fears with you would be better than lashing out on other people. Make her realize, and trust, that there was nothing you wanted in the world more than a future with her.

You turned off the heat under the rice and sat at the table as you waited for Wilhemina. Half an hour had passed since she had disappeared in the bathroom. She loved to take long showers, but she hated being late even more. You had told her she had twenty minutes; any other day, she would have made sure to be ready in fifteen.

You waited ten more minutes before you started to get truly worried. You walked to the foot of the stairs and called out her name. There was no answer. You called out again, louder. Silence mocked you.

You hurried up the stairs, your heart in your throat, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mina? Are you alright?”

And still there was no answer. And you were starting to grow angry again, at her silence, at her shunning you, when you heard it. Faint and muffled, but unmistakable. A sob.

You opened the door and rushed into the room.

Wilhemina was sitting on the floor with her back against the tub and her face hidden in her hands. Her wet hair was dripping on her lap, soaking the purple bathrobe she was wearing. She must have dropped her cane, for it lay on the floor under the sink a few feet from her.  

You rushed up to her and dropped on your knees.

“Baby,” you called, reaching for one of her wrists, “what happened? Are you hurt?”

You tried to gently pry her hands away to get a look at her face, but she didn’t let you. If anything, she stiffened and buried her face deeper in her hands.

Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle the low, painful sobs that wracked her frail body. You gently brushed her hair back as you waited for her to calm down, not daring to wrap your arms around her, but dying to offer her comfort.

Eventually her sobs turned into sniffles and soft hiccups, and you asked her again what had happened.

“I dropped my cane,” came her answer, weak and muffled. “As I was getting out of the tub.” A shudder ran through her.

“I’m sorry,” she went on. “This…” She lifted one of her hands, then, to gesture at her body, and you caught a glimpse of her face, red and coated with tears. “You deserve so much better than this. Please, go back to Maggie.”

You blinked at her words, at the pain and anguish they expressed. How had it come so far? How blind had you been? Not to realize how insecure she was, how convinced she was she could never be enough. To the point that she had agreed with herself to let you go.  

You shook your head sadly. “But Maggie’s not the one I want.”

She let out a small, pitiful noise at that, and dissolved into tears again. This time, you didn’t think. You scooted over and gathered her into your arms. She sank into you, her hands coming down to clutch your shirt, her face pressing against your chest. There was no restraint anymore. No trying to stifle her sobs or hold back her tears. She let it all out, sobs shaking her body as she sank deeper and deeper into you, as if she were desperate to make one, to leave herself behind and become part of you.  

Her sobs grew louder, and she seemed to have lost all control on her breathing, a gasp in and out and out again without inhaling. She was working herself up in quite a state, so you did the only thing you could think of to help her calm down. You tipped her head up. Captured her lips with yours.

Her mouth was wet and hot and salty, but you didn’t care. You wanted so much more of it. It tasted like home, and love, and safety. You had missed it so much, kissing her, feeling her. Your hands came up to cup her face, fingers pressing on her drenched cheeks as you pulled her closer, humming softy into the kiss.

It did quiet her. Her breath hitched, her shoulders tensed, but then she was kissing you back fervently, as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. You didn’t know anymore. You were only aware of the sweet warmth of relief coursing through your veins and making your head spin. And of something else, something that ached and throbbed – want. It frightened you, this level of want. Your whole body was burning and tingling with it. It wasn’t so much lust as merely wanting to hold her. To feel her again. Love her freely and endlessly.

Again it hit you how stupid you had been to think you could ever live without her.

When you broke the kiss for air, she let out a whine and immediately chased after you. She was still crying, hiccups rippling into your mouth, drenched skin rubbing against yours. She circled her arms around your neck and bit down on your lower lip, hard, as if to mark you hers. A vampire bite, to contaminate your blood with hers and make sure you and she were the same.

After a while she broke the kiss and slumped into you. She was practically sitting on you now, arms tight around your neck, face buried in your chest, hip digging into your lap. You ran a hand through her hair as you rubbed circles on her back, humming a soft lullaby as a few last tremors shook her body.

It had started to rain outside. You suddenly became aware of the patter on the roof. You leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s and closed your eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” came her voice, raspy but soft. “What I said the other day. I do love you.”

You hummed, dropped a kiss on her hair. “I know.” A pause. “I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

She let out a shaky breath, then sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. You leaned in to kiss her burning eyelids. You kissed her forehead, a magic kiss, to soothe the throbbing in her head.  

She met your gaze, bit her lip. You gave her a smile.

“Come on, get up,” you urged.

You waited for her in the living room as she cleaned her face, dried her hair and dressed. She put on the pajama set she always wore when she wasn’t feeling confident: baggy pants and a shirt that was too big for her. It didn’t cling to her body. It hid her body completely from view.  

You managed to convince her to eat some of the rice. You ate in silence, watching her as she chewed and swallowed. She was sitting perfectly straight in her chair, head held high, eyes on her plate. When she was done, she delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin, which she then folded on the table.

You waited. She stared at her empty plate for a moment, and then frowned.

“Look,” she finally said, “this is hard for me. I don’t know where to start.”

You nodded. “I know. That’s alright. Take your time.”

“I don’t usually… talk – “Her voice faltered. She glanced up at you, eyes dark and still rimmed red. You smiled in encouragement.

“Your friends,” she went on. Paused. As no other words came out, you got up from your seat, kneeled in front of her, and reached for one of her hands.

“I don’t hate them,” she said very quietly, staring down at her plate.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You have a very peculiar way of showing it.”

Her lower lip quivered and her brow pushed up as if she were about to start crying again. You gave her hand a squeeze.

“Hey, none of that. Talk to me. What really bothers you about my friends?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed hard. You waited. When she opened her eyes again, they were shining with tears.

“I – “She shook her head, let out a sad laugh. “I don’t – “Her voice cracked. Her eyes met yours. “Please don’t – “

“It’s okay,” you whispered, bringing your free hand up to cup her cheek. ”I’m staying. I’m listening.”

A tear dropped from her eye, crashed between your thumb and index; and then she inhaled shakily and it all came out of her at once, words stumbling out like a panicked mob out of a room on fire.

“I’m afraid you’ll find someone better than me. All those kind, healthy people, I’m afraid you’ll truly see them one day and realize you could have so much better, so much more.” A breath out, as her face crumpled. “I don’t – I can’t – “A sob pushed out of her throat, and her breath hitched, and when she tried to inhale again she let out a noise as if she were choking. “I don’t – I don’t think I can ever be – be enough for –”

“Okay, you’re okay,” you cooed as her breathing grew frantic. “Mina, you’re okay.” She shook her head, her body slumping as fresh sobs tore their way out of her throat. “Hey,” you breathed, blinking back your own tears. You let go of her hand to cup her face.

Her cheeks were burning. You ran your thumbs over her cheekbones, catching her tears as they fell.

“Mina, I know you’re hurting,” you whispered. Your voice broke. You cleared your throat. “Baby, I want to be here for you.”

She nodded, hiccupping as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control. One of her hands came up to wipe sloppily at her nose.

“Let’s move to the couch, ok?” you suggested. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

She didn’t let go of your hand on the very short way to the couch, her palm clammy against yours. She always did that, always had to be touching you: her ankle pressed against yours, her hand resting on your arm or on your waist, her shoulder brushing yours.

You sat down, and she hesitated before she snuggled up to you. She rested her head on your shoulder and reached for one of your hands in your lap.

There was a quiet moment, silence only broken by Wilhemina’s sniffles, and then you shook your head and teased, “What am I going to do with you?”

You felt her stiffen against you. “Because it’s such hard work and you never do a stroke of work,” she snapped.

“Mina,” you warned.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

You dropped a kiss on her head. “Okay.”

You wrapped one arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Automatically your hand started playing with her hair.

“You know,” you went on, “it’d have been easier if you had just told me how you felt instead of taking it out on my friends.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do. From now on, you be honest with me. Whenever the bad thoughts come, whenever you feel like you could never be enough, you tell me. It doesn’t have to be with words, if that’s hard for you. We can decide on a code. Like this,” you poked her hip, and she jumped and let out a chuckle,” or this,” you leaned in, blew raspberries on her shoulder, “or this,” you stuck out your tongue and licked her cheek.

“You’re gross,” she laughed. She raised one hand to keep your face away from hers, but you dodged it and gently blew into her ear.  

“Y/N.” She had meant to sound firm, but laughter rang in her voice.

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?” you teased.

“I think the real question is, what am I supposed to do with you.”

“Um.” You pretended to think that through.”Love me.” A kiss on her shoulder. “I think love me is good.”

She looked up at you with a wistful look in her eyes. Her hand came up to touch your cheek. She smiled, soft and tender and fond, the smile she only ever gave to you. “Love you is good,” she whispered.

Her eyes flicked down to your mouth. You leaned in to kiss her, pouring tenderness into her mouth. When you pulled away, she let out a soft sigh as if she were about to fall asleep.

She rested her head on your shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s alright,” you whispered back.

It still rained outside. You listened to the patter on the roof. Leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s.

She fit so snuggly against you. She made you feel entirely safe, entirely you. You drank from her warmth the solace you had not been able to find in the peach-scented sheets or in Maggie’s reassurances and embrace.

After a while, you felt her nudge her nose on your shoulder. She drew a shaky breath, and asked, “So you’re not leaving?”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability and fear in her voice.

“Um, no,” you answered. “I’m giving you a second chance.” A kiss on her forehead. “How long I’ll stay is entirely up to you. And Mina, please believe me when I say I hope you’ll give me reasons to stay forever.”    

“I’m not sure I’ll be content with forever,” she said.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you’re not.”

She shifted against you, moved her head to plant a lazy kiss on your neck, draped one arm loosely around you. Her hand slipped under your shirt and she dragged her nails on your skin, across your belly, down the curve of your waist.  

And then you felt it. A poke, on your left hip. Like a question.

You grinned. “Just like that, my love.”

[yandere--stuck]

Grim - Yandere!Grimdark!John x Reader

[Warnings: Suggestive, graphic body horror, mentions of blood and gore]

---

John had watched you die. Not long after he had died himself. 

He had seen the dead body of his father, lying on the floor beside Rose's mother. The scent of wine mixed with the stench of blood and death, making the Heir wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He didn't know why he didn't cry. He didn't cry at a lot of things. He didn't know why. Maybe he never learned how.

Or, maybe, it was the comfort of your presence at his side. The feel of your arm brushing against his, the sound of your voice hitching in shock. Even if he no longer had his father…. At least, he had you.

Maybe Dave had been right, the game had been bad news. They probably shouldn't have played it. Really, it had only brought ruin into their lives - into the lives of all it touched. 

But it's not like they were the only harbingers of the apocalypse. And if you all hadn't played it… He could have lost you. It's not like he wanted to die, or that he didn't care about his dad or his friends, but you were the most important thing in the world to him.

Really, the main reason he had wanted to play was to finally see you, one on one. Rose was his best friend, but he felt disappointed that you weren't his server player, and jealousy at Jade being your client player. But, finally, to close the loop, he was your server player.

His excitement in seeing you, taking in everything about you, made him lose himself, and he ended up smashing his face against the screen of his laptop. The exhilaration and euphoria of seeing you and serving you almost overpowered the terror at the prospect of you dying, of you not making it to your planet in time.

But, you did eventually make it. The relief made John's heart burst with joy, hugging his laptop to his chest, trying to imagine the warmth of the machine was your own body heat. He made goo-goo eyes at you through the screen, resisting the urge to kiss the pixels that made up your form.

He had to continue making progress, but he was terrified of you getting hurt - so, he alchemized his glasses to include a screen that displayed your status in the game. This way, he could check up on you and carry you with him, outside of pesterchum, at least.

Vriska kept pestering him, eventually convincing him to fall asleep on his quest bed, saying something about "god tiers", apparently it was something even higher than the usual tiers on one's echeladder. 

The next thing he remembered was awaking on some sort of chess board-esque battlefield with some little chess guys on it. Luckily, he was able to borrow his dad's car in the meantime (good thing his dad had gotten on his ass about *finally* getting his driver's license… Though, did he really need one if he was controlling it with his new windy powers?) And he had even managed to reunite with dear, sweet, precious Liv Tyler! Though… She was a lot more robot-y than before.

The thought of sharing her with you made him absolutely giddy! And the idea of you being a co-parent to Casey… God, it made him smile so hard his face hurt!

And! He had even gotten a cool hammer! You'd certainly be impressed by his strength and his cool moves. John would prove himself to be a great, protective boyfriend for sure!

A looming darkness caught his attention, and he felt himself pulled toward it. It seemed to come from a large castle shrouded in darkness. It didn't seem to be natural, like from a thunderstorm. It didn't seem to be from a fire either, the darkness neither smoky nor smelt of burning. 

His eyes widened as he focused on something in the midst of the darkness - and he let out a gasp when he realized it was you!

He kicked into gear, rushing to meet you. You were dressed in your dream planet pajamas - and you looked so cute in them! As you turned, hearing him approach, he had to fight the urge to not fling himself at you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he spun you around in his arms.

He shook himself out of his daydream as you spoke to him, explaining that you had seen the darkness, as well, and wanted to investigate. It seemed to be coming from within the castle. Of course, John offered to accompany you inside. If anything went south, he'd be there for back-up!

He had to hide his grin and blush as the two of you ventured in, you sliding up beside him for reassurance. 

Walking through the cavernous halls of the castle, you were horrified to find the bodies of so many innocent people strewn about, blood and viscera covering the walls and floors. The bodies, as alien as they may have been, were clearly. This was a massacre.

But, beside you, John felt… Nothing. It was sad, sure, but… You were still alive. And that was all that mattered, really!

You jumped when you stumbled upon a living person, John moving in front of you protectively. You held your breath as the figure turned, revealing… 

Rose?

Though, she looked much different than what little you had seen of her. Her skin had turned a ghoulish gray, her eyes as black as night, and her eyes seemed to glow, illuminating her face. And a darkness seemed to surround her. It emanated off of her, stretching above her like tendrils.

Could… Could Rose have done this?

John seemed completely unfazed, greeting Rose with a wave, saying something about her "finally going grimdark."

Rose let out a noise that sounds something like a giggle, her lips quirking upwards. She tried to speak, but the words that came out… They weren't even words, you think. It sounded fuzzy, but also incredibly, painfully loud. It didn't sound like any noise a human could make, like TV static blaring in your ears, or switching through radio stations with no signals. It was suffocating and loud and- everywhere. It felt as though Rose's voice was everywhere, all around you, inside of you.

You were sure you let out a scream, but you only heard Rose's voice - even as you screwed your eyes shut and clamped your hands over your head, all you could hear was the noise…! It felt as though your ears were starting to bleed.

John's hands clamped down on your shoulders, bringing you back to the moment. You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling heavily as you tried to ground yourself.

Rose's eyes were full of guilt and concern, a pained expression on her face as she turned away.

As you tried to ground yourself and recover, you barely noticed John caressing your shoulder with a thumb. Nor did you see the deadly glare he sent to the back of Rose's head.

It's not like he didn't love Rose, but he loved you far, far more. If she ever hurt you again… He couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do.

The both of you followed Rose through the castle, the girl not able to bare turning around to face either of you. Still shaken up, you kept your head down, not wanting to look at the bodies or gore. John held you close to him, stroking your arms up and down to comfort you.

He had to fight not to smile, the feeling of your skin on his was electric.

Eventually, Rose guided the both of you out to a balcony of sorts - and you stopped dead, gasping in horror.

John's father and Rose's mother… Both dead on the ground. Murdered.

You couldn't help it, you turned to face John. The man's face was one of shock, his breathing shallow as he processed the scene in front of him.

His dad… He couldn't believe it. He had just seen him. He was right there… He felt his heart break.

Oh, and what was worse… You had to see something this awful! Oh, you poor thing! He had to get you away from here…!

But, everything happened so fast. All at once, a figure appeared - a man with the face of a dog and the body of one of the many, murdered chess people, armed with a sword. Instinctively, you stumbled back - and John turned, reaching out for you, terrified of losing you.

Before he could even call out for you, his words got choked up in his throat, replaced with nothing but blood. Pain exploded from his abdomen and his back, ocean eyes widening as they focused on the sword going straight through him. 

The figure pulled the sword free, the Heir grunting in pain as his organs were ripped apart, blood gushing from his open wounds. As John fell to his knees, trying desperately to hold himself up, he spat out blood onto the white, marble floor. Slowly, he sank to the floor, eyes growing dim as, in his last moments, he tried to find you.

---

Coming back to life, John found, was a lot like waking up - the slow awareness of consciousness, the disorientation. A sudden burst of energy hit the man as he felt himself be rejuvenated, colors exploding across his vision. He blinked as he regained his sight, the world fading in from white. He swiveled his head, trying to find you.

In the distance, he could see Rose and the dog-man battling over the battlefield, blasting off magical attacks at one another. His heart pounded in his chest. 

If she was there, then where were you?

Looking down, he surveyed the balcony. The body of his father, Rose's mother, and-

Oh. Oh, God. God, no, please!

The Heir felt tears strain at his eyes, his mouth pulled into a pained, horrifying grimace. He fell hard to his knees, kneeling above your body.

"No, no, please!" He choked out a sob. "Please, please, wake up!"

John clutched at your body, fisting the fabric of your pajamas in his hands as he shook you, desperately trying to get you to regain consciousness. He could feel his eyes and cheeks begin to sting with tears. His breathing was shallow and fast, having to use his powers to try to even it out.

He sobbed, all words incomprehensible by now. He let out sobbing screams as he clutched your body close to him, already feeling the warmth leaving you. He pressed, desperate, messy kisses to your lips and face - but, it was no use. Your real body and dreamself had both died.

He doesn't think he had ever cried before now. Only you made him feel so strongly. He loved you. He only loved you. He needed you. He couldn't lose you.

He couldn't.

Without you, life was meaningless. You were his only reason for playing this game. His only reason for doing anything - for living, for breathing. You were perfect. You were everything.

But, without you, there was no point. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

Grief and rage filled him to the brim. He grit his teeth and he screwed his eyes shut, eyebrows knitting together.

The air tasted of electricity, and without his knowing, the dark clouds that swirled from above dripped down and encircled him like an inky blaze.

And John let out a scream.

Or, at least, he had tried to. His cry had been cut off by inky, black tendrils forcing their way inside of his open mouth. The tentacles came from everywhere, from the gloomy clouds from above the darkness that surrounded the man.

The eldritch beings that had given the Lalonde her current state had felt power within John's rage and sorrow, as well. The outburst had drawn their attentions - feeding off the darkness within him. They would remake him in their image, as well…

John gagged as the tendrils snaked their way down his mouth and down his throat, his neck bulging from the amount of vines forcing their way down his throat. John could barely breathe, writhing in desperation to get air into his lungs. He tried to use his powers, trying to suck in air through his nose in an attempt to somehow get oxygen through the vines' air-tight hold in his throat - only to let out a strangled, muffled scream as tendrils slipped up into his nose, reaching up into his brain. 

If he could have, John would have gurgled or spit up around the tendrils, but he didn't even have the ability to do even that. The Heir's limbs spasmed as he tried to reach up to yank the tendrils out, only for more to snap the man's arms against his torso. Even more came to wrap around John's legs, restraining his legs and tying them together. 

More tears bubbled up from his eyes as he felt the tentacles curled around his legs, thighs, stomach and chest - almost caressing him, as if gently teasing him. The tender touches only served to contrast the agony of the tentacles spreading further into his body, ripping through his throat and into his stomach and intestines. 

The pain was so unbearable that if he could have, he would have puked, but the tentacles blocking his throat and mouth would have never allowed him to do so.

John swore he could feel himself bleeding internally, but in truth it was the feel of the darkness spreading all throughout his body, taking hold of him, corrupting him. He could the darkness clog his arteries, wrap around his bones, fill him up to the very brim with itself - somehow, despite the unknowable agony he was in, John had managed to stay aware, but only barely.

Until, the tentacles that had filled up his nose plunged deep into his brain. The man's body jerked wildly, twitching and spasming as the darkness overtook and corrupted his mind. Dark grey overtook and crawled up his skin. His dark hair slowly turned from his natural hair to a stark white. His eyes, forced to say open, lost their irises and pupils as they were lost in an impossibly bright, growing white.

As the tendrils finally burrowed completely into John's body, deep inside him - a horrible scream erupted from his body, making the ground below him shake and crumble, inky darkness flowing like smoke from his open, shrieking maw, now filled with fangs.

---

You awoke with a start, taking deep gasping breaths. God, your head hurt, and your back wasn't exactly feeling any better. Felt like you slept on stone… Rubbing your head, you looked down, confirming that you had, in fact, slept on stone. It had a distinct symbol on it, and looking at the front of your new outfit, it seemed to share the exact color and symbol.

You stilled suddenly, blinking, realization washing over you. An ominous presence seemed to loom over you, making a shiver crawl up your spine. You turned, and jumped in place.

It was… John. Or, what looked like John. He grinned, looking upon with an eyeless stare. It reminded you of how Rose looked before. Had… Had whatever happened to her, happened to him, too?"

"John… What's going on?" You asked, eyes flitting around in confusion. Somehow, John had taken you all the way to your planet after you…

You…

You died, hadn't you?

"John…?" You settled your focus back on him, letting out a gasp as he pulled into an embrace.

A rumble seemed to emit from within his chest… Was… Was he purring?

You settled into his hold, trying to hide your nervousness. "What happened back there? What happened to you?"

John's expression flickered to one of nervousness, before opening his mouth to speak.

You let out a yell of pain, the sound all too familiar to you. It suffocated you, overpowering even your own yelling, incomprehensible, ear-bleeding static that seemed to drill straight into your eardrums, into your mind, and your very being.

You had only realized John had stopped attempting to speak when he clasped his hands over yours, easing them from your head and holding them in his own. Whimpers bubbled up from his throat as he leaned forward, nuzzling you.

You laughed nervously, detangling your hands from John's to pet at his now-white hair. "It- it's okay, John. We… We just need to find out how to get you back to normal, okay? And then, we can get back to Rose and the others and-"

You were cut off, letting out a soft grunt as John pushed you back down onto your quest bed. A powerful purr rumbled from within him, leaning down to kiss and lick at your neck.

You were stock still for a moment, before letting out a shocked laugh, not knowing how to react. Your hands wormed your way to his shoulders. You chuckled, trying to push him off of you. "John, I- now's really not the time-"

In one swift movement, the grimdark Heir was able to pin your wrists by your head, letting out a playful growl as he straddled you.

"John…" You could whimper, voice dying out.

John only responded by diving in, kissing and licking hungrily at your neck and shoulders, occasionally pressing hungry kisses to your face and lips, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

John's purrs seemed to surround you on all sides as he dug his teeth into your neck, claiming you as his own.

[booksforevermore13]

Perhaps, it's the colours that started the story

Summary: The colour she sees first is the colour of his eyes. Of the boy she singles out in the crowd, just barely eleven, she can tell, yet she doesn't know why she chose him, why when she sees him, she sees the colours.

They were supposed to see the colours together. Instead, she was the one who saw first.

Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

The colour she sees first is the colour of his eyes. Of the boy she singles out in the crowd, just barely eleven, she can tell, yet she doesn't know why she chose him, why when she sees him, she sees the colours.

His eyes are… they're this colour. This colour she's only heard of from her mother. But she doesn't know what it is, but it isn't black, it isn't white. It isn't grey like the trees. Or perhaps, they are and she doesn't know, because it's the first time she's seeing them. The colours.

But it starts with him.

"Mum," she breathes out, and her eyes are burning, she can hear her heart beating painfully fast, and nothing else. She's trying awfully hard not to cry, but it seems so impossible at the moment.

The boy doesn't see her, but she knows it's him.

"Yes, Ginny dear," she hears her mother say, but she knows her mum's not really listening to her.

"I can see them, Mum. I can see the colours."

Ginny doesn't think her mother hears her, but like a firework in the sky, her world suddenly explodes. She blinks once, twice, and when she opens her eyes the third time, she gasps, for she can see them.

She can see the colours.

His name is Harry, like the Harry she's heard stories of, and she's looking at him, taking all of him in, for he's here. He's finally here.

He wants to know how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

She can't bring herself to say.

Ginny doesn't know why she chose him, if it was his eyes, or because he was handsome - but because, for the first time in her life, Ginny finds herself silenced in his presence. The Ginny Weasley, the girl who had to be told to shut up a thousand times every day, had finally done so. And all because of him.

She wonders if he'd started seeing the colours too. Or maybe he just hadn't seen her yet.

She thinks it's a good time to step forward now. To make her seen.

"That red wall, dear? You need to walk right through it," her mother says. "Right in the middle."

"Um… I'm sorry ma'am," he gulps. "R-red? What wall?"

Ginny's heart sinks at that, but she still keeps on repeating to herself.

He just hadn't seen her yet.

Her mum frowns, and then as if realising something crucial to the story, like she had, she smiles. "You can't see the colours as well, can you, dearie? Our Ginny here too` can't see them."

I can see them now, Mum. I can see the colours.

Her mother pulls her in front, and Harry looks at her, grins, but there's no spark. No glint, no surprise, like she thought she'd see. She'd hoped she'd see. He doesn't see them.

He doesn't see the colours.

"Hello," he says, but she can't bring herself to say it back. She's too busy holding back tears.

His eyes don't seem so magical at the moment.

Why couldn't he see the colours too?

What did she do wrong?

"Can't you," she whispers, "can't you see them?"

"See what?"

"The colours."

He smiles ruefully, shrugs, as if it didn't matter to him. Ginny wants to scream at him, tell him it mattered to her, tell him she was seeing them, for the first time in her life, why wasn't he?

"Maybe I'm not meant to."

Her heart sinks, and she struggles not to cry, slowly slinking behind her mother's back.

After they all go home, her mum and her dad, and only her, she lies on her bed, late at night, and cries her eyes out.

…

The colours were simply hues of grey to lift her from her monochrome existence. Each one was like a subtle sea over the other, noticeable, but submissive to the stone underneath. She'd shown just a glimpse, just a fraction of her inner spirit, and he'd flocked to her like a lost child.

Except he wasn't the one lost. She was. He'd used that. He'd used her.

Once, he'd told her she was stupid. Stupid to be running after someone she couldn't reach.

Ginny agreed with him. She thought he was right.

"When are you going to stop clawing for something that's never going to happen?"

At least Tom had been right about something.

If she thinks about it, he'd been right about everything.

"When are you going to accept that you were the only one meant to?"

Sometimes, she doesn't know if it's his voice in her head or hers. If it's him speaking or her. She'd lost that ability months ago when she'd let him speak for her. When she'd let him be her.

She was never going to let anyone do that to her. Ever again.

And if that meant she'd have to let Harry go, then so be it. If she had to believe that that day, she'd been the only one with colours, then that would have to do.

"Soulmates don't exist, you silly girl."

She'd been stupid to believe they did.

…

Ginny moves on.

It takes time, but it's not just overnight you wake up and finally feel like yourself.

But fifth year, when she makes the Quidditch team, she feels this might be it.

Ginny knows she should have made it her second year. Not three years later. But second year, when her days had gone by with her mostly avoiding the looks of disgust she got in the corridors and the pity she didn't ask for from her professors, her brothers constantly looking over her every second of every day, tryouts had been a mere lingering thought in her mind. And if that hadn't been enough, the team hadn't been holding any that year.

In a way, her second year had been far worse than her first. In a way, it hadn't.

Ginny moves on though.

She moves on.

She can still see the colours. They haven't left yet. She doesn't think they ever will. It's the same with Harry. He's there, but he isn't. Not in the way she'd like him to be, but she figures, maybe it's just her screwed over. Maybe while putting two people together, they did her up wrong. She doesn't mind. Or maybe, she does.

Right now, she feels, the right word is indifferent.

That's why, when she kisses Dean, she does so, because she wants to. They're not soulmates, they could never be, but in all true sense, he's a good kisser, and she likes him.

And in all true sense, when he tells her he loves her, she's guilty because she knows she'll never really say it back. Even though he deserves to hear it. But she won't. She can't.

"Hey." Ginny turns around, grinning at Harry while he jogs over to her. "Sickle for your thoughts?" he says as he comes to a stop, and she tosses him his gloves, while she slipped on hers. All his years playing Quidditch had done him good, clearly, and once when, she had been the one taller than him, had turned into him standing well over a foot above her.

"Oh, you're going to need much more than a sickle," she teases, walking beside him to the castle grounds. She's early for practice, she nearly always is, and she suspects it's partly because she knows he'll be early too.

"I'm sure."

Ginny glances at him through the corner of her eye, wondering if he could see the colours now. It's been years since she'd asked him. She didn't want to now. Now, she never did.

"Lucky for you, I'm in the mood for some chit-chat," she continues, and he shoots her a mirthful glance, and Ginny wiggles her eyebrows.

"Lucky for me."

"Oh, you bet it is." She shoves him, and he laughs, his voice deeper than what it was before. It's more attractive too, she can't help but notice.

"I've a date with Dean today," she announces, beckoning him to set into a run. She easily keeps pace as they jog around the field, her, slightly tense as to his reply.

But he's silent. Ginny frowns. Her dates are usually a good conversation-starter for her brother, and Harry isn't much different from him. She'd expected him to at least balk, like the numerous times Ron had done.

"That usually requires a reply, you know?"

"Do you want to go?" Harry asks, surprising her, and she looks at him, appearing to be amused when she really wasn't.

If she had been in the mood to be truthful, she'd have said no. Ginny didn't want to go. Not with Dean Thomas.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

They're silent then. They're silent after. Ginny can't help the tugging feeling in her gut, that's pushing her to ask that one question, that single piece of information that she's been dying to know since… forever. But she won't, because it's been years since she'd chased something she couldn't reach and she wasn't going to do it again.

But in the end, she wins. Tom loses.

"Can you see them?" she asks finally. "The colours?"

It's like a flash, like a jolt. His expression changes, and he grins at her, his ridiculously handsome boyish grin, and she's almost dreading the answer because she knows what it's going to be. Because she knows this is where she finally learns she's not the one.

"I do," he says, and his grin widens. "I can see all of them."

She nods, smiling at him, when really, she feels crushed, defeated.

She chose him. Evidently, they didn't share the same equation.

"I do want to," she says finally, "go on that date with Dean."

Ginny turns away after, blinks back tears.

...

Ginny wasn't a Seeker.

She was a damn Chaser.

She didn't catch the Snitch.

She caught the Quaffle.

So, the fact that she currently had a bright, golden Quaffle, clasped in her fingers while she lay squat in the middle of the field was something that she should be positively yelling about.

And yet, she sits still, Snitch clasped in her fingers, for really, yelling is the last thing she wants to do now. All she can really do is look at it.

And all she can think is that if this was what it felt, catching the Snitch, holding it taught against her palm, its wings fluttering against her skin, then she finally understood why Harry did it. The thrill he felt. The thrill she feels now. She's felt it before when she beat out Cho for it, but this, this feels different. This feels more real somehow.

And then she hears yelling, and she's laughing, yelling along, as Peakes and Coote lifts her up in the air, as she raises her hand, showing her team the golden snitch.

This, this is where she belongs. Where she's meant to be.

Ginny jumps down, letting Peakes and Coote pull her into a hug, pulling Ron into one herself, and through all of it, every single smile, and every single laugh, part of her is just dying to see Harry. Part of her just wants to tell him that she caught the bloody Snitch.

So, when she sees him, at the bottom of the stairs of the boy's dormitory, she laughs, and sets into a run, and as she launches herself at him, he pulls her close by her waist, and kisses her. In front of fifty watching Gryffindors, he kisses her, his lips like a dream against hers, as she wraps her arms around him.

And after several long moments, when they do finally break apart, she's laughing, startled, of course, but she's laughing. She's happy.

Harry grins down at her, his green eyes like the tinted glass jars her mother kept at home (as if he was already part of her home), and gestures wordlessly at the door.

She's smiling, but when she nods, she allows him to guide her away.

…

"I see the colours," he tells her as the Common Room door closes behind them.

She smiles, walking along beside him, letting the walls guide them to the grounds.

"When did you see them?"

"I don't know. One day, I just did."

She smiles harder, not knowing if she could ever quite stop. Harry's looking at her, as if he's waiting for her to say something, but she doesn't. So he goes on.

"I think… i-it was while I was at the Burrow," he says, "or, I don't know, but I saw you, and then I saw your eyes. I saw brown, this warm chocolate brown and then it sort of, just —"

" - exploded," she said for him.

"Yeah."

He asks her now, for it's his turn. "When did you see them?"

Ginny smiles ruefully, glancing away at that. She isn't so sure if she should reveal it, for revealing that would mean sharing something that had haunted her for as long as she could remember. It was the first time she had felt unwanted, like an extra piece in a puzzle.

For her, finding her soulmate had always meant that one thing in one's life that would make them feel as if they'd found their other someone. It was what her mother had told her when she was young, it was what her mum had felt when she'd met Dad.

But at that time, hers had been anything but.

"I… uh, same," she stammers. "It happened out of nowhere."

"No, it didn't," Harry shoots her a mirthful glance. And then, like clockwork, his smile turns into a frown. "It… wasn't at the train station that day, was it?" he asks. "The day we first met?"

Ginny offers him a weak smile, and she supposes it's answer enough, as he breathes in sharply, eyes holding horror, surprise, she couldn't say.

"All this time?"

She shrugs, looking away. "It wasn't up to me," she says, her eyes prickling with tears. "I saw you," she laughs it off, for it's what she's always done, "and then my whole world turned upside down."

"You never said anything."

"How could I? I saw the colours, but you never did."

Harry stops her, grabs hold of her hand, and holds it tight, his hand warm against her cold ones, and she laughs, because kissing him might have felt like a dream, but being with him, here, with her hand locked in his, was hers.

"I'd have tried," he says, "I'd have done anything," and his eyes hold fire she's rarely seen, but that fire, it doesn't burn. It never has.

"We were eleven, Harry," she smiles, slipping her fingers through his. "I didn't even know what love was when I met you. I still don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I still am."

Ginny laughs, and she bends forward, kissing him like he'd kissed her before, and it's a kiss where she feels stirring in her chest, warm and curious, like she had felt back in the common room. It's a kiss that makes her want another.

"I like the way your hand fits in mine," he whispers against her lips, and she smiles, before he kisses her again.

…

A year and a half later, when she kisses him again, it's among dust and grey. It's among pain and anguish. It's when they're trying hard not to cry, it's when they're trying their best to stay together.

"Are you hurt?" he says urgently, between kisses. "Gin, are you hurt?"

"No, Harry, it's okay, I'm fine."

He breathes out in relief, his lips getting tenser as they stay against hers, until Ginny has to pull away, make him look into her eyes.

"It's over, okay?" she says, holding his face gently, her thumb running over the bruises along his jaw. "It's over."

He looks at her then, and his face crumbles, and Ginny has to breathe in, in sharp gasps as his tears break loose, but hers don't. They slide down against the broken remnants of a wall, and she's hiding her face in his shoulder, as he cries into her lap.

"I'm sorry," he says, over and over again, and Ginny feels her heart breaking, everytime he says so. "This isn't what I wanted," he sobs, "I never wanted them to die."

"This isn't your fault," she whispers, but at this point, she can barely say anything without her voice breaking.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, and Ginny wipes away her tears furiously against his shirt, pulling him up by her hands.

"Hey," she says, "hey, hey." Ginny lifts his face, wiping away his tears as hers break loose. "You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me, Harry? This is not your fault."

Her voice cracks, and his face falls, and this time, it's him that pulls her in for a hug, as she rests her face against his chest, lets his shirt soak in her tears, while she feels his own against her head.

A year and a half later, when she kisses him again, among the dust and the grey, she knows it just might be for forever.

...

The life she has, it's the life she chose.

The boy she singled out in the crowd, just eleven years old - she picked him out, not because he was famous, but because he had, in the short span of an infinitely long ten seconds, taught her the art of shutting up. That he had, in the course of her life, made her feel like fireworks and danger.

Ginny marries him, builds a family with him, even though she knows it's a risk, but Harry's well worth the risk.

So, one night, a couple of years later, as Harry sits beside her on the couch, her head resting against her shoulder, while he half-pretends to read something about work, when really, he's doing that weird thing and looking at her, Ginny looks up at him and can't help but ask: why did you suddenly fall in love with me?

And it is a moment of quiet, a moment where really his answer is all she's waiting for, among the crackling fire in front of them, the sweet smell of bacon lingering in their kitchen, the steady beat of his heart against his chest, and them, as Harry drops a kiss into her hair.

"It's because when I saw you, I saw the colours. I saw all of them."

...

[wizardouxie]

PANTONE 2046 C

Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek

Pairing: Zouxie

Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)

Word Count: 2788

Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3

"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.

"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.

"Dashing as ever, Douxie."

Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.

"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-

"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.

"They're pretty sure about this."

She groaned.

"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."

[ 1 Week Later ]

Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."

She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:

DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]

ZOE: i Hate you so much

DOUX: ??? WHY

ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD

DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again

ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you

DOUX: you know me so well ;)

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.

She was.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.

"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."

She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.

"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"

"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."

And now here they are.

Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.

"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.

"You say that about nearly everything."

"Can you blame me?"

She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.

Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.

"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.

He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?

The answer is quite the opposite.

"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."

The untangling stops.

And then the tugging starts.

"Ow ow ow-"

"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."

She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?

After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.

"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.

"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.

"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"

Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?

"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."

"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.

"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"

Claire pales.

"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."

Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."

"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"

Curse this girl and her good taste in music.

[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]

"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.

"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.

"That won't be necessary!"

The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.

"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."

"Wait, second time?"

"You didn't know?"

"No?"

"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."

"No, I trust you."

Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.

"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.

From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.

"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.

"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.

"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"

"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."

Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.

"See ya!"

These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.

With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.

ZOE: which color looks good on me

ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing

DOUX: which job?

ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK

ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms

DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?

ZOE: hm interesting

DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill

ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you

DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?

DOUX: zoe.

Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.

And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.

'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.

Well, here goes nothing.

She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.

She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?

"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."

Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?

It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.

"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."

This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.

After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.

The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.

And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.

DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you

DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment

DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on

DOUX: wait a second

DOUX: you're joking

DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????

DOUX: IN THE PINK

DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning

DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.

ZOE: omfg

ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere

The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.

"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.

"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.

"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.

[pinkhwaseong]

Hello there! 😊✋. I just saw your blog and I wondering if it's OK to request a Dreamcatcher reaction to their 8th member and girlfriend being needy for their attention during an award show? Thank you in advance ❤❤❤

-🎈

A/N:Thank you for being my first request!!! I really enjoyed writing this, so much so that ai created a more suggestive one that will be posted in just a couple of days! I hope you enjoy reading and if there is anything else you would like feel free to let me know!! 감사합니다!

JiU(민지):

JiU, being the wonderful mother of 7 that she is, was occupied double-checking that everyone had gone through hair and makeup prior to the music bank performance. You were the first one to get ready and had been sitting on the couch, waiting for people to finish. Minji was the second to finish but decided to make sure everyone was getting ready and was feeling alright before the performance. After deciding you had enough bothering Dami, who was trying to read a new book she had gotten, you turned your attention to JiU. You goofily walk up to her, annoying her with aegyo that was in between cute and alien. After failing to fully grasp her attention, you decided to imitate everything she did. She finally noticed you after you took a sip of her coffee after her. She turned to you and gave you a light peck, laughing at your shocked, blushing face. She hugged you and said “그만 따라해!”(Stop copying me!)in a cute tone. She then returned to her leaderly duties while you stood there in astonishment.

SuA(보라):

It was 10 minutes before the 8 of you were set to go on stage. SuA was running through the choreography “one last time”. She had been practicing relentlessly while in the waiting room. You tried numerous times to talk to her and reassure her that there was nothing to be nervous about, but it was as if she hadn’t heard you at all. 5 minutes before going on stage, you tried your hand at getting her attention one last time. Standing beside her, you let out a deep sigh and poked her waist constantly. Her focused form relaxed and started to shake with amusement. A poking war began between the two of you until the 3 minute mark was called. SuA hugged you and you said, “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to do great!” After the performance, SuA would not leave you alone. She chased you down the hall all the way to the dressing room, threatening to poke you again.

Siyeon(시연):

The stage was tightly packed with other groups, anxiously waiting to hear their name be called as the winners of their music bank stage. The two MCs were giving a long winded speech when you noticed Siyeon swaying back and forth. You gradually make your way over, sneaking up behind her and pinching her sides while whining,”Siyeon, play with me!” Siyeon was dying of laughter, until JiU shot the both of you with a motherly “behave” glare. Siyeon smacked your butt lightly and back hugged you, leaning her head on your shoulder. Occasionally, she would whisper “Y/N… 지루해요.!”(Y/N… I’m bored!)Causing a small giggle to escape your lips. The two of you then stood there swaying with each other, her hands on your waist, waiting for the Dreamcatcher to be called.

Handong(한동):

You usually watch Handong while she’s getting her hair and makeup done. While waiting for her hair to be done by the stylist, who was working on Gahyeon’s hair, you decided to mess with a half asleep Handong. Pretending to be her stylist you took a piece of her hair and rolled it in between your hands, causing it to become staticy. The hair stuck up by itself and the ridiculous sight caused you, who was holding in your laugh, to explode laughing. Upon hearing your boisterous laugh, Handong woke up, looking around until her eye landed on the mirror in front of her. She chuckled a little before standing up and giving you a quick peck on the cheeks. When it was your turn to have your hair done, Handong came up behind you, doing the same thing you did to her hair. She then took a selca with you, in which the two of you were laughing so hard that it was out of focus.

Yoohyeon(유현):

About an hour before the scheduled performance you and Yoohyeon were playing PubG Mobile. After a little bit, you had to get your makeup and hair done. Wanting to show off how good you look to your girlfriend, you sat beside her and said, “Jagiya, how do I look?” Without looking up, Yoo said, “네, 네가 노무 이뻐요.”(Yeah, you look amazing.) You pouted, slightly irked at her disinterest. You then nudge your face into her neck, your breath lightly tickling her. This little action caused her to die in-game. She sighed loudly and you took this chance to stand up, start voguing, showing off your face. She goes up and cups your cheeks, giving you a quick peck on the lips and saying, “You look stunning, Jagi!” She gives you another peck before emulating your voguing poses.

Dami(유빈):

Dreamcatcher just had another win. Confetti was cascading down, tangling in your hair as “Odd Eye” played loudly in the background. Dami had gone to accept the award and stood next to JiU who had begun to give a thank you speech, while trying not to cry of happiness. You had accidentally bumped into Dami when she went to stand next to JiU, and from that moment on you had your eyes on the award. You determined that now was the time and took the award, holding it like a swaddled baby. As you were walking off stage, Dami trailed behind you and smacked your butt, causing you to look behind you. While you were turned around, Dami stole back the award and whispered, “You’ll earn this back later.” She then sprinted down the hallway, you laughing while following in suit.

Gahyeon(가현):

Gahyeon was busy eating Honey Twists(Nongshim ones are my obsession). After getting your hair done, you plopped down next to her, eyeing her snack. The perfect distraction would come when she received a message on her phone, causing her to have a piece protruding out of her mouth. Taking the opportunity to not only eat food but kiss your girlfriend, you bit the piece sticking out of her mouth. Shocked, Gahyeon then started to whine at your cheesiness.

“야! 뭐야?! 네가 왜그래?!”(Hey! What?! What's wrong with you?!)

After you both calm down, you go to take another Honey Twist. This time Gahyeon stole a bite of the one sticking out of your mouth. She smirks, getting up to get her hair done, leaving you a laughing mess.