#chin and nose are still the main features making him look like a different person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yougotthatbilly · 4 years ago

Text

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc.

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk.

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk.

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed.

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you.

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug.

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite.

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back.

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save.

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece.

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin.

“What’s your skin type, John?”

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it.

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?”

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need.

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.”

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached:

Good evening,

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it.

Sincerely,

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that.

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw.

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink.

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny.

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though.

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well.

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well.

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning.

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you.

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?”

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face.

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking.

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation.

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now.

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun.

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once.

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him.

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly.

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.”

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?”

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet.

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out.

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense.

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off.

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds.

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?”

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days.

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

��I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off.

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do.

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest.

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in.

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out.

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher.

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now.

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep.

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight.

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.”

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own.

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking.

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work.

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with.

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.”

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed.

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention.

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge.

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?”

You hum. “Not quite…”

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning.

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?”

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed.

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches.

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.”

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual?

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad.

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that.

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours.

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need.

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said.

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.”

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm.

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide.

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days.

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table.

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar.

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever.

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having.

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain.

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat.

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far.

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.”

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict.

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance?

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker.

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known.

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs.

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles.

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note.

“Hey.”

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong.

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence.

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours.

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste.

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down.

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly.

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be.

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth.

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside.

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex.

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs.

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time.

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon.

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head.

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair.

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer.

“You were made for this, huh?”

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle.

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

“You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip.

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip.

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees.

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth.

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you.

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass.

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything.

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple.

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot.

“John…”

“Yes?”

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates.

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly.

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves.

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading.

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own.

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply.

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped.

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still.

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down.

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it.

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily.

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord.

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own.

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly.

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum.

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation.

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you.

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his.

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat.

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating.

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you.

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow.

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick.

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again.

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently.

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into.

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms.

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing.

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste.

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down.

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

#johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo smut #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #lets not talk abt the ending i needed to end this monster

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tumbledfreckles · 4 years ago

Text

Stupid

For @flowercrownroman Prompt: Hogwarts Jily - before they were dating but while they were on good terms, maybe an interaction where James sticks up for her and she gives the "I can handle myself'' argument.

Hope you like it! (2.5k)

“Evans.”

Lily kept walking, hoping she was far enough down the corridor that he’d assume she couldn’t hear him.

“Oi, Evans!”

Her pace increased, she was almost to the corner. Once there, she could duck into a bathroom and hide until the coast was clear.

“Lily, I know you can hear me. Wait up.”

Lily sighed as she came to a halt. Used the precious few seconds she had until he was upon her to wave her wand several times, feeling magic spread over her features, soothing her skin.

James was already stopped in front of her when she turned around, less than a foot away. “Finally, Evans. Where’s the fire?”

“In the dungeons,” She did her best to smirk. Judging by the frown on James’ face, it wasn’t a great effort. “What are you doing? You’re not on rounds tonight.”

She would know, given she was on duty.

“Kitchen raid,” James reached up to ruffle his hair, looking a bit sheepish. “Remus needed chocolate.”

Lily’s features softened immediately, “He’s out of the Wing?”

James nodded, “Just after dinner.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Bit rough,” James shrugged. “You know Remus, he won’t complain until it’s pretty much death’s door.”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded. “Sounds like him. Give him my love, will you? And let him know I’ve got notes from Runes. Merlin knows, Peter’s probably aren’t any use to him. I’m pretty sure he fell asleep five minutes into the lecture.”

“Sounds about right,” James said with a laugh.

Lily felt her cheek start to tingle and frowned internally. The glamours shouldn’t have been wearing off that quickly. She mustn’t have focused enough when she was casting. Or there were too many in quick succession. Time to go, in any case. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your mission then.”

James didn’t move, a crease between his brows. “Everything alright, Evans? You look a bit peaky.”

“Yeah, fine,” Lily tried her best to smile. “Tired, is all. Shift’s almost over though.”

He still didn't leave, though she willed him too. “Have you had any trouble?”

Lily shook her head quickly, vehemently. “Hardly seen a soul.”

“Right,” James looked even more suspicious. “Even in the dungeons?”

His question was too pointed. Too knowing. Lily’s heart started to beat faster. “Guess I’ve been lucky,” she said carefully. “Quiet night.”

“Lucky’s not the word, I don’t think,” James’ hand reached forward, toward her face. Toward the spreading tingle that now covered half of it. “Evans -”

Lily cut in before he could start his next question. “What are you doing down this way, anyway? The kitchens are on the other side of the castle.”

“I, uh,” James ruffled his hair again. “I saw you as I crossed the main corridor, I guess. Wanted to check in.”

“I didn’t come from the main corridor,” Lily had used a secret passage to get to this floor. One she wasn’t even sure the Marauders knew about.

“Really, huh,” James’ eyes darted away from her, before settling back on her face. “I could have sworn I saw you.”

“Were you following me?” Lily knew she was onto something when James ruffled his hair for a third time. “Why were you following me?”

“I don’t know, Evans,” James’ voice was scornful, harsh, where before it had been light. The change made her blink. But his next words stopped her in her tracks. “Why were you talking to four baby Death Eaters down in the dungeons just now?”

Lily paled, or she would have, had she not been covered in glamours. Glamours that were fading by the second, if the tingles that had now spread across her entire face were anything to go by. She took a step back, and then another. Used the wand hidden in the folds of her robes to surreptitiously strengthen the charms. “They were out after hours. I was directing them back to their Common Room.”

James followed her, step for step. “And they went? Just like that?”

“You say that like they wouldn’t listen to the Head Girl,” Lily lifted her chin in challenge.

“That lot wouldn’t listen to me, and I’m a pure-” James cut off before he finished the word.

But Lily knew what he would have said, “Pureblood? They won’t listen to another pureblood, even one that’s Head Boy, is that what you were going to say? They won’t listen to the pureblood Head Boy, so why would they listen to the Mudblood Head Girl?”

“Don’t say that,” James’ teeth clenched, the tick in his jaw, always a sign of barely concealed anger, jumping out at her.

“It’s just a word, Potter,” Lily gritted her own teeth, biting the inside of her lip to prevent any tears from falling.

She’d shed enough tears already tonight.

“You shouldn’t let them-”

“Let them, what? Insult me? Degrade me? Put down my family, my home, my magic?” Lily felt angry, sounded angry, even though she knew she wasn’t directing it to the right person. “They don’t exactly need permission, Potter.”

“Evans,” James took another step toward her. “What happened down there?”

“How do you even know they were there? That I saw them?” Lily took a step away. “Were you spying on me? I told you not to use that bloody map to spy on me.”

“I wasn’t!” he insisted. “I was checking if Filch was about, so I could get Remus’ chocolate, and I just happened to see the impromptu meeting outside Sluggy’s room.”

“And you thought you’d glide on in, save me like the white knight you think you are?” Lily wasn’t sure why she was attacking him. He’d clearly worried about her, enough that he’d come looking. It made her heart clench inside her chest, warmth flood her chilled body. And yet she was attacking him.

Meanwhile the tingles had started again. It really was not her night.

James hands balled into fists at his side. “I wasn’t trying to rescue you. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t give you any grief.”

“They didn’t,” she lied blatantly. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he was quiet. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Well, great,” Lily started to turn, knowing she had seconds left before her concealment charms faded. “Off to the kitchens with you, then. And then back to the Tower. I never saw you.” She waved listlessly, not waiting for his reply before taking several hurried steps.

“There’s blood on your hand.”

Lily froze, facing away from him. She looked down, realised that indeed her left hand was smeared with red. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s ink,” she said with a raised voice. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” James reached out, pulling on her shoulder to turn her before she could stop him, her attention still caught by the blood on her hand. “Evans-”

He stopped, eyes on her face, widening so comically Lily would have laughed if she hadn’t felt on the verge of tears. Tears of panic, anger and overwhelming bloody despair. It was extraordinarily clear that the glamour charms she’d cast had failed spectacularly and he could now see what she had been desperate to hide.

“Lily, what happened?”

His eyes roamed over her face, taking in the swelling and no doubt bruising around her right eye. The blood that ran from her nose, still fresh, trailing off her lips, her chin. The painful welts of a burn that encircled her neck, in the shape of hands despite a wand having carried out the action. The rip in the front of her shirt, also smeared in blood from the large gash underneath. The blood had transferred to her hand when she’d tried to hold herself together.

“Nothing,” Lily said. She backed up several steps, her eyes on his as he stood frozen. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. Worse than it looks, you should see the other guy. All that kind of thing. I’ve got to finish rounds, I’ll see you -”

“Stop,” James had caught her before she could turn again. Before she could hightail it out of there, recast the charms and pretend this had never happened. “You are not fine.”

Another step had her back against the wall. Nowhere left to run. She refused to meet his gaze, not wanting to see the concern. The pity. She focused on his left ear instead. “It’s nothing.”

“It is not nothing.”

“Leave it, Potter. It’s naught to do with you.”

His expression darkened, “I’ll fucking kill them.”

“No, you won’t,” Lily’s eyes flew to his now, as her hand reached out to grip his forearm, preventing him from following through on his words.

“Evans, they can’t get away with this,” James looked as distressed as she felt, but for a different reason. “We have to go to Dumbledore.”

“You can’t,” Lily’s eyes flashed, her hand held him tighter. It should have been painful by now, but James looked as if he couldn’t even feel her. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What are you talking about, Evans?” James shook his head. “You’re Head Girl. They can’t just do this.”

“Exactly,” her chin lifted, her face set. “I’m Head Girl. No one can know.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“They bested me, Potter,” tears pricked at her eyes as she croaked the words out. They were tight in her throat, making a hoarse, rasping sound. “They bested me, and I’m the Head Girl. If they can best me, they can best anyone. No one can know.”

“It was four on one. You can’t expect to win with four on one.”

“That doesn’t matter.” He didn’t get it. She had to make him understand. “That part doesn’t matter. All that the students will remember, is that those cowards picked a fight with the Head Girl, the Muggleborn Head Girl, and they won. Muggleborns are going to be terrified, and everyone else isn’t going to want to cross them. Worse, they might join them, just so they aren’t next. We can’t let that happen.” She pulled on his wrist, urging him to agree. “James, no one can know.”

He watched her for a long time. His eyes held hers, searching them. She could see the wealth of emotions flicking through his gaze as he processed what she’d said. Anger, of course, so furious, so raw it seemed like he was burning. Disbelief, reluctance, defiance. A general unwillingness to go along with her request. Sadness, as his eyes flicked over her again, concern and worry taking over his expression.

Lily dropped her head before she could see the pity.

Who wouldn’t pity her? She was weak, pathetic, a failure. She was meant to be a symbol of hope, a sign that the Death Eater’s were wrong. She was meant to be so strong, so powerful, so talented, that no one could ever doubt her place in this world. She was meant to be faultless, flawless, infallible.

She had failed.

A touch to her cheek, careful and timid, brought her back to him. James held her face gently in his palm, using his thumb to lift her chin even higher. He wasn’t looking at her face, Lily realised, as she tried to look at his. His attention was focused on her neck, his other hand bringing his wand tip to her neck. Even the lightest contact to the fragile skin made her whimper.

“Sorry,” James muttered. “Just, hold still a sec.” Almost as soon as he’d finished speaking a coolness spread across her neck. It was a welcome relief, taking the pain away with it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. He was closer than she thought he’d ever been before. It was almost possible to count his eyelashes behind his glasses, he was so close.

“I’m not finished.” He used his thumb to move her head this way and that, prodding and casting in succession.

Lily felt the magic wash over her again and again, and with each wave, the pain lessened. Her shoulders sagged in relief as the tension rained away with the pain. She felt his wand move to her stomach, where the biggest slicing hex had hit her, and tried not to react as he carefully pulled her shirt up, eyes flicking to hers until she nodded her permission, to see what needed to be done. His hand was warm on her skin, and despite the situation, Lily wasn’t surprised to find she didn’t mind his touch.

Welcomed it, really.

“Have I missed anything?” Her shirt dropped back down but his hand stayed where it was on her side. His gaze roamed over her again, finally meeting her eyes again. There was not pity there, only concern. Concern, and caring, and something else that she couldn’t quite name. She only knew it made her feel warm.

Lily shook her head, “Think that was it. Thank you.”

James shrugged, “You don’t need to thank me. I care about you. You know that.”

“I do know that. And I care about you,” she attempted a smile. ”How things have changed this year.”

“Not so far if you’re still trying to hide stuff from me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she reached for his arm again, but ended up holding his hand. “I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it quiet.”

He threaded his fingers into hers, squeezing even as he sighed heavily. “I want them to pay. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

“You can’t,” Lily started. She reached up, pushing his hair back out of his eyes, off his glasses. “I don’t want people to think that I’m not every bit as deserving of magic as they are.”

“You’re being stupid. No one will think that.” His fingers smoothing up and down her side, clenching on her hip. She tried not to shiver at the contact. He was looking at her in the way that made her feel warm again.

Lily didn’t try to argue with him. Instead, she braced a hand on his chest, pushing up onto her tiptoes to make up the difference in their heights. With James already looking down at her, it didn’t take much to press her lips to his. The touch was soft, sweet, a balm to the terror she’d felt much earlier in the night.

“What was that for?” James asked when she pulled back, dropping down onto her heels. He looked

Her hand stayed on his chest, fingers curled into his robes as she smiled. “You said I was being stupid. Thought I may as well live up to it.”

His lips twitched at both ends, “Kissing me is stupid?”

She nodded, slowly, her grin widening. “Very.”

James leaned down, so close their noses brushed. “Care to be stupid again? I could get on board with that kind of stupid.”

“In for a penny, in for a -” Lily didn’t even get to finish the saying before James’ hand buried in her hair and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her firm against him as his lips captured hers again.

#jily #jily fic #jily prompt #hogwarts jily #jily fanfic #freckles writes #canon jily #fluff

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no-droids · 5 years ago

Note

Can you describe the exact moment where Mando knew he wanted to fuck the reader?

I think tumblr ate my ask, so (in Bernie Sanders’ voice) I am once again asking if you can describe the moment Mando knew he wanted to fuck the reader and couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

(((Your second ask included another question, so I’ll write for both, ALSO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1 OF THE MANDALORIAN YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)))

***

The first moment Mando knew he wanted to fuck you? Or the moment he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer?

Different moments. Completely different moments. Took place weeks, if not months apart from one another, in fact.

If… if he’s being entirely honest, the first one probably isn’t that interesting of a story. He’s almost certain the thought crossed his mind before you ever said a single word to him. Actually, now that he’s actively thinking about it, he’s pretty sure he hadn’t even seen your face when he was first struck with the idea.

That really isn’t all that uncommon for him, though. Of course, Mando has never been immune to the charms of women, but as he grew older and in his more recent years, he learned it’s almost always best to just avoid the hassle altogether.

That doesn’t mean he never thinks about it.

In fact, not having sex surprisingly causes people to think about sex more, if you can believe it.

Not that anyone would ever know it, obviously. Most people are entirely capable of keeping their thoughts to themselves, but Mando does them two better and keeps his words and his face to himself, too. Nobody truly knows what’s really going on behind the helmet, and he prefers it that way. He can think whatever he wants, let any emotion play over his face without once worrying about its potential impact on another person.

Nobody ever knows. Nobody knows when he’s smiling, when he’s gritting his teeth. Nobody knows if he’s sleeping, or if he’s just choosing to sit remarkably still.

Nobody knows how often he looks at you, especially if his head is facing a different direction.

The beskar offers solace in that regard. He has many personal qualms with it, but on occasion, there can be. Benefits. Specifically, it was incredibly useful the first time he saw you. That day was one of the rare occasions he remembers being truly grateful for the helmet.

At that point in time, Kuiil had been dead for a few weeks, and realistically, Mando had no real reason for even being there. He had no real reason for landing the Crest somewhere in the outskirts of his late friend’s abandoned moisture farm. He could make up some excuse about the blurrgs weirdly getting to him, how Kuiil’s enclosure was likely too well-built to escape from and they’d probably be nearing the point of cannibalism by now. But realistically, he had no reason.

Secretly though, if anyone ever asked him to cut the shit and just fucking explain himself—give them a legitimate, valid rationality as to why the fuck he bothered wasting the fuel returning to this desolate planet, why he delayed collecting payment on Nevarro in order to visit a barren moisture farm he knew would be empty—Mando could. He wouldn’t, obviously, but he could. It was stupid, it was completely fucking illogical, it was absolute fucking nonsense, but there was indeed an underlying motivation attached to his actions that he likely wouldn’t even admit to himself.

He was looking for something. Or, someone, to be more specific. Someone like Kuiil. His good friend’s affinity towards children and his abilities as a versatile mechanic were incredibly useful when he was still alive, and while Mando wasn’t stupid enough to think those things came from the water here on Arvala-7, whatever trace amounts of it there were to be found in the air, he was… well, he was getting a bit desperate.

The kid was a fucking handful, always getting into trouble while he was out trying to hunt down bounties. It would be irresponsible to take him with Mando, but it was also irresponsible to leave him in the ship by himself. He couldn’t do both at the same time. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t continue to be this child’s caretaker and provider. It just wasn’t physically possible.

He needed help. But he had no idea where to look for it. Kuiil was one of the only people to whom Mando ever extended an offer of partnership, one of the only people he ever trusted to look after his ship and his kid. So, after a few weeks of unsuccessfully juggling the responsibilities of a single-parent/bounty hunter, Mando figured that if he needed to start somewhere, he should probably start at the very beginning.

He wasn’t expecting much of anything. When he hid the sleeping kid in the stowaway cot on the ship and silently made his way across Kuiil’s land, he wasn’t expecting much of anything at all. In fact, he kept inwardly scolding himself for even bothering. He’d let the blurrgs out of the corral, try not to get immediately eaten by the starving beasts, and then probably just have to figure something else out in regards to the kid. Sorgan, maybe? There were some nice, trustworthy people there. Maybe he could find one who’d entertain an offer of adventure.

If anyone pressed him about it, Mando supposes what he was expecting was an empty house. Rabid blurrgs enclosed a few hundred feet away, either in the process of dying or already dead. He even braced himself for the possibility of a dismal, scavenged scrap pile that those Maker-forsaken Jawas would leave behind if they decided to raid Kuiil’s farm while he was gone.

He… he absolutely was not expecting the sound of someone moving things around in the house. A quiet voice murmuring unintelligibly to itself as pieces of scrap metal clanged carelessly against the floor.

Mando stepped around the corner. And then he saw you. Bent over, rummaging around in one of Kuiil’s spare junk bins.

And…

There.

That’s the moment.

That’s when he knew he wanted to fuck you. Seeing you wave your ass in the air, completely oblivious to his presence as you continued rifling through Kuiil’s things.

Not very interesting, he said before.

The thought struck him a split-second before an immediate flare of anger at your blatant disregard for his friend’s memory.

His third emotion was his blaster in his hand. That’s—admittedly, not really an emotion, but then maybe somebody should tell him why Mando sure as fuck seemed to feel it often enough.

“None of that shit is yours,” he remembers saying through the modulator, his voice rough from a day or so of disuse. Your body snapped upright at the first word, hair pulled into a high ponytail and hands black and greasy as they immediately flew up into the air over your head, clutched tight around a few frayed wires.

“Oh shit, I wasn’t—” You started to spin around, but you froze halfway through the process at the sound of Mando clicking off the safety of his blaster with his thumb. Based off your positioning relative to one another and the way a sweaty tendril of your hair hung in front of your forehead, he could just barely catch a sliver of your face at this angle, but it was enough to see you try to look at him through the corner of your eye as best you could without lifting or turning your head. “I was just here taking care of th—”

He wasn’t in the mood, and Kuiil deserved better. Kuiil deserved better than a lot of fucking things Mando handed to him. He deserved so much better than what happened to him, but no matter how much Mando wilted under the guilt of being the main reason Kuiil wasn’t here right now telling you to get your fucking hands off his personal belongings himself, he simply couldn’t change the past. He could, however, right some wrongs right here and now.

“I can see how well you take care of things,” he grunted sharply, cutting you off. “A good man dies and you think his shit is yours to scavenge?”

The wires immediately dropped from your hands and you whipped around entirely to look at him in the eye, disbelief and shock painting your expression. “Kuiil is… d-dead?”

He… he wasn’t expecting that.

Okay… any of those things, really.

First, he wasn’t expecting you to be surprised, much less upset by the news. Second, he wasn’t expecting you to know Kuiil’s name, or third, to move so rapidly and carelessly under a loaded blaster in response to his, in hindsight, incredibly cruel taunt. Looking back, he wishes he made even a marginally better first impression with you, but as Mando quickly comes to learn, you’re too forgiving. You never bring it up again.

Fourth, and notably, one of the things he remembers thinking most is how he wasn’t expecting you to well… look the way you did.

You were a young woman in the middle of this arid, fucking Jawa-infested desert and you somehow managed to look well-fed. Vibrant, even. Bright eyes, soft features, blinking up at him from under long lashes, plush lips parted and chin beginning to wobble like he just broke your fucking heart.

Pretty. Grease smudged across your cheek bone, fingernails dirty, hair a complete mess. Still. Devastatingly pretty.

Fifth. Strangely, and perhaps more jarring than anything else—Mando didn’t expect you to stare right into his eyes the very first time you looked at him. Most people ended up focusing their gaze somewhere near his forehead, maybe even down to his nose on occasion. You managed to hit him dead-on. On the very first try.

Sixth. He faltered.

Mando faltered under your stare, your words, your appearance. He took way too long in responding. He remembers watching your hands fall to your side in a shocked sort of dismay, and then he remembers silently holstering his blaster as you all but plopped down on the ground, right where you were, the stricken horror of realization painting your expression a hauntingly empty tabula rasa.

“Oh,” is all you said.

Over the next few hours, Mando learned a few things about you. Some things you told him, other things he figured out.

Things you told him: You were one of Kuiil’s neighbors. When you didn’t see him for a few days, you set up base here to keep things running smoothly, feed and take care of the blurrgs while he was gone. You were waiting for him to come back.

Things he figured out: You liked animals (even those stubborn overgrown creatures that look like they’re missing the middle-third of their body) and from the immediate softening of your expression upon catching sight of the bleary-eyed kid peeking his head around the doorway at some point, you liked children as well. You were a moisture farmer like Kuiil, an occupation that required you to be a wide-ranged and skilled mechanic. You lived alone and managed to stay relatively healthy in such an unwelcome environment, which meant you were hardworking and resourceful. But the state of your clothing said you needed money. And the way you looked at him told him you were lonely.

The last one was a shot in the dark, he’ll admit, but Mando has always been observant. Your house had to have been a reasonable distance from Kuiil’s, just based on the sheer square acreage of his land alone. Sometimes you tripped over your words, like it’d been just as long for you without speaking as it had been for him.

Admittedly, you were… quietly endearing to him. In a way. Soft spoken but sharp, capable yet entirely untested beyond this tiny little rock in the backskirts of the outer rim. The kid liked you. He had good instincts, and he smiled a toothy little grin every time you turned your attention to him, clearly finding the little one much easier to talk to than Mando.

And, he supposed, at the very end of the day, Kuiil apparently liked you. Kuiil apparently trusted you. And Mando… Mando very suddenly remembered someone—something else. Something else Kuiil once trusted, and at that time, Mando sure as fuck didn’t. He probably couldn’t have distrusted that fucking bounty/nanny droid more, and yet… Mando ultimately trusted Kuiil, and he ended up being completely right. Mando was wrong, and Kuiil was right.

Weeks after he covered his body in rocks. Weeks of silent overthinking, of the guilt of his friend’s death weighing heavier on his shoulders than any armor he’s ever worn. Well. Mando wasn’t about to start second-guessing him now.

Perhaps, the real question is why you ever agreed to join him when he casually offered. A chance at adventure, at finally leaving Arvala-7? The promise of good money, of not having to constantly worry about farming water from the atmosphere just to have a sip of it?

To this day, he still has no fucking idea. That’s probably something best to ask you.

Now. The second question.

When Mando couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

He… he feels like there’s something weird about phrasing it like that. It’s probably better to ask about. The turning point. When everything either fell apart or came together, depending on how you want to look at it. The split-second realization that shit had changed. The exact moment when Mando knew he was well and truly fucked.

Before he starts, he should probably preface.

Mandalore isn’t known for their fine arts.

Anything creative he did as a foundling that wasn’t also inherently, at its core, strategic, wasn’t rewarded. Ever. His people have always been a militaristic people, and art is for peacetime. Mandos aren’t known for their music, painting, or architecture. Their specialty is smithing, combat, and depending on the clan, espionage. Their symphonies are war chants. Their murals are blood-streaked battlefields. The last person he really remembers hearing sing, if only just for the love of it, was his father.

Maybe that’s why it originally took him so long to figure out what that fucking sound was.

He was in the pilot’s chair of the Crest, almost asleep at that point. The door to the cockpit was shut tight, and last he checked, you were entertaining the little one in the hull. After a few weeks with your company, he had come to expect certain things from you, if not based off the terms of the deal you two struck, then simply based off newly established precedent.

You took good care of the kid and fixed mechanics, yes, but you were also apparently a decent pilot. You even took to the habit of cleaning the ship whenever Mando was gone. That was never part of the agreement, but you did it anyways. You were surprisingly helpful. Sweet, in that regard. Not difficult to be around, nor to work with. And if he was being honest, you were just about the furthest thing from difficult to look at.

But mostly, you were quiet. In general. The record for the longest conversation ever occurring between the two of you was still held by your very first introduction. As a quiet person himself, Mando had grown accustomed to the average individual’s insatiable need to fill the silence for him, talk his ear off out of nervousness, discomfort, or an annoying combination of the two. In contrast, and like him, you barely said a word unless it was necessary. It made for a peaceful journey around the galaxy, if ever a silent one.

Even more surprising, you were usually very good about keeping the noise down even with a small child in tow, and excelling where Mando failed (mainly, stopping the tears before they evolved into screeching sobs). Because of that, the unfamiliar sound he could just barely hear from his place in the ship was that much more intriguing to him. It was audible through hyperspace, through a metal door, and through sound-absorbent beskar. So quiet, but loud enough for him to wonder what its source was.

He remembers standing up and slowly walking over to the door, straining his ears and listening to the volume marginally increase, but not by much. Just to the point where he could finally place it, though it took him far longer than it should’ve even considering the situation.

A gentle melody. Humming. Sweetly reverberating throughout the ship despite its deadened acoustics, when Mando didn’t think he’d heard a song in years.

He must’ve stayed like that for a few minutes at least, just standing statuesquely in front of the door leading to the hull. Either… either you were singing to his son, or you were singing just because you felt like it. Somehow, each one of those possibilities managed to move him more than the last.

Only it was still too quiet to truly hear. There were still just too many pieces of metal separating him from you.

So, at that point, he had two choices.

Well, three. Mando had three choices. He could always just fuck off and go back to the pilot’s seat, up the noise cancellation setting on his helmet just slightly and try to pass the fuck out, but that wasn’t… realistic.

So he had two viable choices. Each one came with its own set of problems.

One, he could press a button on the panel and open the door. Potential problems included the noise it would make while shifting to the side, and the ability for you to catch him eavesdropping if you happened to be standing right under the ladder to the cockpit. Statistically, the prior was much more plausible. If it happened, and it was very likely to happen, you’d stop singing and the ship would be silent. Once again. Like always.

Two, he could. He could… take his helmet off. But—

—But here was the thing about that. Mando hated doing it. Even when he had to take it off to eat, he hated doing it. And not because of the reason most people would probably expect. It wasn’t because he felt uncomfortable or exposed without it, even when barricaded inside an enclosed space like this by himself. It wasn’t because he felt guilty about it, either. Technically, he would probably be violating his oath by removing it unless absolutely unnecessary—eating, for example, or bathing, or about to bleed out and die from a head wound, etc—but Mando probably couldn’t have given less of a shit about the details. He was always more of a big-picture person.

No, the reason he hated doing it was because… well, because of how much he really fucking loved doing it.

When he was younger, he’d always looked forward to any excuse to breathe fresh air. He’d drag out his meals for as long as he reasonably could, trying to memorize the way everything looked without a digital interface shielding his eyes. He used to have absolutely impeccable grooming habits, really taking his time shaving his face and deep cleaning the beskar and filter every single day.

That… that only lasted a few years.

Eventually, it became harder and harder to put the damn thing back on again. Only, he had to. This was his life. After a handful of decades, taking the helmet off became less about savoring the moments without it and more about just prolonging the inevitable. Making it that much more difficult to accept. If you knew you were going to starve, would you want a full course buffet in front of you the entire time? Let the visuals of everything you could never have, the aromas torment you until your very last breath? The blissful temptation started to eat away at him, until eventually he just grew to dread taking it off altogether.

Eventually, those few moments of relief from the torture of wearing it just became the worst torture of all.

It was easier keeping it on. Physically, emotionally, whatever. His body would acclimate to the metal and padding wrapped tight around his skull, and some days he happily forced down the growling in his stomach and skipped meals altogether. He hated taking it off. He hated the fresh air. He slept in the helmet. When he had to, he scarfed down his food. He learned how to eat with his eyes closed.

So. To reiterate, Mando had two choices.

One. Run the incredibly high risk of you stopping entirely.

Two. Do the thing he arguably hated doing more than anything else in this galaxy.

He silently turned and pressed his back against the closed door, sliding down to the ground and weighing his options. Technically this was a non-problem. Technically he was just making things difficult for himself. He could always just say fuck it and mind his own damn business. He could always just… he could…

He—

He took the helmet off.

He cradled the beskar between his knees and stared down at the visor as it glared judgmentally back up at him, his spine resting against the closed door and listening to your soft humming for as long as you felt like doing it.

And…

There.

That’s the moment Mando knew he was fucked.

That’s the moment the countdown started. From that point on, it became only a matter when he’d give in, not if. Before, he could at least pretend everything was fine. Before, he could at least tell himself with reasonable certainty that while he genuinely liked you as a person, he’d never push your relationship past the point of quiet, yet friendly, business acquaintances.

But that was the moment Mando knew he was full of shit. That sooner or later, there’d come a point, a shift, when his resolve would eventually snap. And like his kid and the ship, he’d let himself get taken care of by you, too.

He didn’t know how long it would take, or the catalyst that would set everything off. It could be anything. A close brush with death. A soft, much needed touch.

Fuck, even just a really rough day.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #rough day #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert

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simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

jung jaehyun x reader

description. Working for an art exhibit that only lasts a week, you wouldn’t expect anyone to stay here long until you meet a guy who comes by every single day, looking at the same painting at the same timing that lasts hours.

genre. flUff, at the end i promise

word count. 6.4k~

warnings. nonee

a/n. the pic of jaehyun just gives me museum vibes idk why so yes i’m going to write a short story (okay its not idk how i extended but i did) on him. the story is more of the reader observing him till the halfway point where they slowly start to interact. this would probably be considered a slow burn?? not sure but enjoy it either way!!

“You got a new job again?”

You turn around your desk chair, taking one side of your earpiece off and noticing Taeyong sitting on your bed casually scrolling through his phone.

You didn’t even realise he came into the room. Probably because you had your music blasting at a high volume and you were concentrated on completing your holiday homework.

“Yeah. It’s at some art exhibit. Pay’s fair and I only have to sit there and do nothing for a week.” You simply reply with a light shrug.

“That’s so easy. When do you start?” Taeyong asks, lifting his eyes off his phone to look at you with curiosity.

You didn’t give an answer, looking down on your phone to search for the email that the person in charge sent you a few days back.

“It says the exhibit opens on friday so I guess that’s tomorrow.” You say shortly after glazing your eyes down the email.

Taeyong hums and nods his head. “Is it far from here? Need me to ride you there?”

You give a sincere smile and shake your head lightly. “You don’t have to. I can take the train. Plus you have work.” You politely reject your friend.

Taeyong frowns in response, making you sigh as you know he’ll insist on doing it.

“I’m working from home? I can do whatever as long as I complete my work. Just let me send you. You’re always refusing my help.” Taeyong glares at you and lets out an exasperated huff.

You purse your lips into a thin line, suspiring in defeat in a matter of seconds. You can never win when it comes to Taeyong being persistent. That’s how he always is whenever it comes to you.

“Okay, okay.” You breathe out.

“Anyways what are you doing in my room? I have homework to do.”

Taeyong flashes his cheeky smile and bobs his shoulders. “Was actually thinking of asking you to treat bubble tea?” His smile widens till his eyes form a line.

You scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. “You’re the one that’s working here!” You shout, letting out a ‘tsk’.

“Urgh fine! You’re cooking me instant noodles though.” Taeyong points his finger at you.

“Are my instant noodles that good?”

You earn a lighted up face as Taeyong nods his head eagerly. “Something about the way you cook it just tastes different from regular instant noodles!” Taeyong squeals like a kid while he let out a soft dreamy moan while closing his eyes.

“Jeez I’m craving for bubble tea now that you’ve mention it. Hurry up and order it on Grab!” You throw the pillow behind your back to Taeyong’s face, making him snap out of his thoughts on your instant noodles.

“My God, chill! Calm your women cravings.” Taeyong mumbles, turning on his phone and proceeding to head to the app to order the bubble tea.

It’s already the next day. Luckily for you, you wouldn’t have to be there till eleven in the morning since the exhibit opens at twelve.

You peacefully wake up at nine. Though you stayed in bed and used your phone till ten. Realising the time, you gather your strength to pull yourself out of bed, dragging yourself to the bathroom with half-opened eyes despite the fact that you’ve been awake for an hour.

You know you could take your time getting ready since Taeyong knows how to ride his bike. Fast. Like extremely fast. You estimated that you’d be able to reach in ten minutes, when normally it’ll take fifteen to twenty.

“Taeyong!” You scream out in the hallway as you make your way to his room. Opening the door, you see Taeyong on his desk typing away at his keyboard.

He shot his head at the noise, turning his head sharply to the door where you are. “We’re going now?” He asks, using his middle finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing down at the papers that are scattered on his desk.

You hum, looking down at the time on your phone. “We have five minutes till we can leave.” You inform him.

Taeyong nods his head and stands up, taking off his glasses and putting it on the desk. He slowly walks up to you, eyes scanning down your outfit. “They really let you wear this?” He asks with a skeptical eye.

You narrow your eyes in response. “How am I suppose to dress?” You question back sarcastically.

“I don’t know like fancy? High class? It’s a museum type of exhibit isn’t it?” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. You roll your eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to be a tour guide. Whatever I’m still wearing this.”

You walk up to the full length mirror that’s beside Taeyong’s bed, looking down on your outfit. You decided to wear loose legged jeans along with a brown sweater vest, white button up and Vans shoes.

You smile to yourself in the mirror and turn around happily to Taeyong. “Let’s go.”

Taeyong takes out his extra helmet from the back, passing it to you. You wear it quickly while Taeyong gets on his bike, starting the engine as the noise from it can be heard loud and clear. After he takes a moment to adjust in his seat, he jerks his head to the back, signaling you to get on.

With that, you and Taeyong begin your journey of heading to the exhibit. As expected, you got there at around ten minutes. And you still had time befofe it opens. You got off and take off the helmet, passing it to Taeyong.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“I’m doing it for the instant noodles.” Taeyong says with a light chuckle, putting the helmet at the back. You swirled around to walk to the entrance. You glance over your shoulder to see Taeyong still leaning against his bike, waiting for you to head in. You shake your head and held a hand up to wave him goodbye before entering.

As you walk in, you hear Taeyong’s bike engine starting as he drives off. Looking around the exhibit, you were instantly amazed. It isn’t large, but isn’t small either. It is a completely white building with paintings and other things you would see in a museum cleanly displayed by their categories. It’s a simple yet classy set up.

You head to the counter to meet the person in charge who’s the only one in the exhibit.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dejun.” You greet with politeness, bowing your head.

“Good afternoon. Since today’s the first day I don’t think there will be too many people coming in. Other than that, I’m sure you know what to do.” Mr. Dejun informs as he writes something on the black clipboard he has in his arm.

You hum. “Yeah, I do.” You reply confidently.

“Alright I’ll be heading off now. The key to locking up the exhibit is here. Make sure to return it to the main building, okay? I won’t be coming back by the way.” Mr. Dejun adjusts the glasses on his face.

You nod your head, watching him look around the counter one last time before greeting you goodbye and walking out of the exhibit. You sigh and take a seat on the chair that’s at the counter. You look down, seeing the key along with other papers that you assume is not relevant to you.

You got comfortable, placing your bag down on the counter and start to use your phone. Getting bored after awhile, you decide to walk around the exhibit for the fun of it.

You get to where the paintings were, clasping your hands behind your back after shoving your phone into your back pocket. You get in front of picture to picture, staring at it for a moment before looking to the bottom right to read its description and moving on.

You didn’t end up spending that much time walking around since you got through the arts fairyly quickly, not really caring about admiring it.

You get back to your seat, huffing and placing your chin on the palm of your hand as you lean in, closing your eyes.

You swear you could have fallen asleep but you got awoken by the sound of footsteps coming in. You shot your head up to the entrance, seeing a tall man wearing a brown velvet suit with a pink turtleneck. he had brown hair that’s slit back, though it looks a little messy.

You question how he looked at first. Brown and pink? You thought. That is until you concentrated on his face. You had to blink your eyes a few times to capture his face in your mind while he walks off to look around.

He had a jawline and features that can cut like a knife. The way every feature on his face looked amazing and straight out of a painting from someone’s imagination of a perfect man. His hair framed his face that was made for him to pull off any outfit choices or hairstyles.

You got intrigued in an instant without a doubt. You would want to look at him more but he ended up going deep into the exhibit and disappearing out of your sight.

You frown to yourself, the picture of him etched into your brain while you trace whatever you remember of him in your head. You eventually snap out of it, proceeding to look down on your phone.

You didn’t know how much time has passed since he came in. But it felt like a long time. And you still have yet to see him exit the exhibit.

Getting curious or concern, you weren’t exactly sure, you rose from your seat. Walking around, you tried finding for him. And eventually, you did.

You stand there in silence, a few steps away from him. He had his head tilted sideways as he stares blankly into this one particularly painting. It felt like he’s been looking at it for so long, seeing how his body didn’t bother moving an inch and it looked like he was in a trance.

You suck in your lips, looking up from his hair down to his high cut black Converse sneakers. He had such a perfect body proportion along with his height. Even his side profile felt breathtaking and you couldn’t even imagine how you’d feel if you were to get up close to someone with a physique like his.

You decided to turn back and leave, taking silent steps and making your way back to the counter. You want to leave him be for the time being. But then, your stomach began to growl, urging you to have your lunch. You turn on your phone and headed to the Grab app, wanting to order some Mcdonald and have it delivered here. Mr. Dejun didn’t say that you couldn’t eat here so might as well.

Thirty minutes passed. You had you food but you still have yet to see the man leave. Curious yet again, you grab your coke and head to where you saw him last time.

He’s still there, same painting, same standing position. At this point you were getting concerned. No one can stay frozen staring at something for that long right?

You take a sip of your coke, realising that the straw made those suction noises when your cup is empty. The sound caused the man to sharply turn his head to you.

You lean back, eyes blinking as it met his. “I’ll go soon, don’t worry.” He mutters. Finally, he starts walking down deeper into the hall and looking at other paintings.

You hum, nodding your head. You decide to walk as well, wanting some of your food to be digested.

You didn’t see him leave. He probably did while you looked at some flower painting.

Oddly enough, he’s the only one that came today.

And that was your first day at the exhibit. As you lock the door with the given keys, you couldn’t help but wonder why it’s called, What is love? Observing the arts in the exhibit from the main museum building, you didn’t see anything related to love except for one or two that had a direct meaning to it. The descriptions about them didn’t exactly help either.

You could only shrug off the thought once you hear the familiar sound if Taeyong’s bike driving down the street as he comes to pick you up.

Day two comes by. you got there around the same timing with Taeyong’s help. Mr. Dejun is there again. He gives you the same instructions as yesterday, but this time you are told to make sure the peole who enter have registered in so they could keep track of who comes in and out. You were wondering why they didn’t have that system on your first day.

Quite a few people come by. Couples, families, perhaps journalists since you see them jotting something down in their notebooks while looking at the art.

What caught your eye is the fact that you see him come in again. He still looks as classy as yesterday with his slit back brown hair. But, you see someone else as well.

“This is where you wanted us to go?” You hear the women beside him say, linking her arm around his. You take a look at her up and down.

She’s absolutely stunning. From her dark brown wavy hair with curls at the bottom that reach till her chest area, the tight floral dress that cups her hourglass body perfectly, not to mention it’s proportioned beautifully just like his to the features of her face that looks just that of a model’s. You would have made an assumption that she is a model.

“Yeah, why? We can go somewhere else?” He mumbles as they take slow strides to the counter, approaching you. Needless to say, his voice is definitely amazing as well despite the few words he has said here.

The two ended up in front of you. The girl gives a simple smile. “Two tickets please.”

“You have to register with the QR code that’s there first.” You motion your hand to the sign on top of the counter that displays a huge QR code along with instructions to complete the registration.

“Ah I see. Hold on.” She jerks her arm against his, lifting her head up to the sign. He shapes his mouth into an ‘O’ as they proceed to use their phones to scan the code.

While they look down at their phones typing in their information, you thought that it’s a good time to have your eyes on him while you still can before he disappears into the exhibit.

You admire his face. You could tell his face looks breathtaking at every angle. You couldn’t see his face properly since the fringe of his hair covered his eyes a little while he’s looking down. But you liked it either way.

But you also start to wonder who that women is. His girlfriend? A close girl friend? You couldn’t exactly tell but you could make a guess that she’s more outspoken than him, seeing how he just nods his head and makes little effort to use his words when she talks to him.

“Alright, we’re done.” You shot your eyes up to them. You notice how he had his eyes on you with a blank expression. You shake your head, wanting to get yourself out of your deep admiration for the man i. front of you.

You hum, taking out the stickers that had the logo of the exhibit on it. Peeling two off, you hand it over to her. “Just stick it on your body anywhere.” You reply, attempting to sound polite.

“Also I need your names.”

Not.

You just want to know what the man’s name is.

“Nayeon.” The women brightly introduces herself. Your eyes adverted to him quickly.

“Jung Jaehyun.”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. Even his name suits him well. You practically couldn’t find a single flaw on this man appearance wise. You would want to talk to him, if Nayeon isn’t here with him today.

The two head off and the hours fly by as usual. To ease yourself out of boredom, you went to walk around the exhibit again, watching people admiring the arts and having small chitchats.

As you walk by the place where you saw Jaehyun standing yesterday, you realise the two are there. Standing in front of the same painting.

“This is boring. Let’s walk around more.” You hear Nayeon say loudly. You could’ve sworn you seen a look of anger or disappointment, or maybe both on Jaehyun’s face. But as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared quickly as well.

“Sure.” Jaehyun plainly says as he walks behind Nayeon. He glances back at the painting before having his eyes scan the area. His eyes meet yours for a brief second. You feel your body tense up so quick. You never felt something like this in a long time since you stopped dating when college started.

Absentmindedly, or maybe perhaps not, you ended up walking to wherever they went, following their footsteps and being quite a few meters away from them, they were in your sight almost all the tims.

One thing that stood out to you is the fact that Jaehyun looked somewhat gloomy or annoyed, even bored in fact. He didn’t look like this yesterday. And it’s obvious that the reason for that is Nayeon. You can’t understand why, not really diving too deep into it.

At some moment, Nayeon walks off with her phone to her ear, probably answering a call and exiting the exhibit.

“You don’t seem to be having fun.” You say, walking up to Jaehyun and standing beside him as you look at the painting in front of you.

He turns his head, looking down on you. He scoffs. “Is it that obvious?” Jaehyun asks, though the both of you seem to know the answer to that.

“Totally not.” You reply sarcastically, sliding your phone into your back pocket. “I saw you came by yesterday.” You start.

“I remembered you since you were the only one here.” Despite your eyes being on the painting, you couldn’t help but feel that his eyes start piercing into your skin. Looking up, you see him staring at you.

“Well to be fair it’s an exhibit that’s not popular yet.” Jaehyun lightly shrugs. “I actually thought I’d see my friend here. Guess not.” A small, almost unnoticeable frown creeps up his face.

“Friend? Who exactly?”

“Xiao Dejun. The one in charge of this place.”

You let out a soft “Ah...” while nodding your head. “He’s only here before my shift starts. And he never comes back either. I thought that’s something a friend should know.”

Jaehyun lets out a quiet sigh. “He’s too focused on this to let me know I guess.”

Just as he says that, you hear the clanking of Nayeon’s high heels coming in from the entrance. You know it’s her since she’s the only one wearing high heels here. “Looks like your boring date is back.” You joke with a small smile.

Jaehyun chuckles, brushing his thumb across his nose and shoving his hands into his pocket. “Sure is.”

“Hope thay you’ll be done with it soon.” You say, giving him a little encouragement to light up his mood. He didn’t reply to your statement and instead laughs softly, making you practically swoon for him in your mind when he lets out a, “Thanks.”

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow, Jaehyun?”

“Perhaps, uh your name?”

“_____”

With that, the two of you exchanged smiles once again as you walk off, seeing her hugging him from behind and dragging him off.

You couldn’t help but smile, him calling your name resonating in your head over and over as you head back to the counter.

Moments later the two left and you went along with completing the rest of the shift.

“Jung Jaehyun?” Taeyong asks, taking a bite of his chicken. You completely forgot to eat lunch today so you texted Taeyong to meet you to have dinner at the nearby fast food restaurant.

You nod your head eagerly. “He’s so handsome and hot and just.. ah~” You close your eyes as you picture him in your mind, moaning dreamily as you thought about him.

“He sounds familiar not going to lie.” Taeyong shrugs, reaching his hand out to grab your mashed potatoes that were on your tray.

“Hey that’s mine!” You shout. Taeyong giggles cheekily. “You didn’t eat so I’ll assume you don’t want it.” He flashes his eye smile, making you look at him with disgust.

“Uh no I’m saving it for last. Why didn’t you get your own?”

“I forgot okay!” Taeyong huffs, angrily taking a scoop and putting it in his mouth. “I’ll share don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes. “So is he going to go there tomorrow?”

“He said probably.” You plainly shrug. “I mean I hope I do. I get to see him again.” You smile to yourself, looking down at your finished tray like an idiot.

“From what you tell me, it really feels like you’re just stalking him.” Taeyong adds with a scoff. You let out a ‘tsk’, grabbing a tissue to wipe and clean off your fingers.

“I don’t! Okay maybe. But seriously if you seen him, I’m pretty sure you would’ve turned gay for him.”

“Imagine how hot that’ll be. Seeing how you are handsome, and he’s handsome too. Ah the gayness!” You squeal, tapping your toes and as you grin widely.

“I’ll floor you at home. Watch me.” Taeyong threatens, throwing you a sharp glare. “You can drop by tomorrow to see him if you’d like. I can text you when he comes.” You bob your shoulder, a slight smirk creeping up your lips.

Taeyong hums and nods his head, grabbing his drink and taking one last sip to finish it. “Don’t disappoint me. If I don’t like what I see, I can say it as a fact that you have low standards.”

You gap your mouth open, placing a hand on your chest and gasping, overreacting at his statement. “Oh please. I’ll never.” You say with full confidence.

The next day at around three in the afternoon, Jaehyun enters the exhibit.

“Good afternoon, _____” Jaehyun greets in a polite yet trying to sound fun manner

“Afternoon, Jaehyun.” You flash a bright smile.

“Do I still need to register?” Jaehyun asks, leaning against the counter and closer to you. You blink your eyes rapidly, wanting to take a moment to look at his face up close but shake your head out of it immediately.

“Yeah. You need to do it every time you come.” You inform him, your phone flat on the table as you boredly scroll through Twitter.

“Alright.” He does the same procedure and proceeds to walk off, giving you a soft and kind smile before doing so.

You immediately went to iMessage, texting Taeyong that he’s here and keeping to your promise that you’ll let him see Jaehyun. Almost instantly, you hear the door open and reveal Taeyong casually walking in.

You widen your eyes in shock. “Wait the fuck?” You say as Taeyong walks up to the counter and leans his body againsy it. “So where is he?” Taeyong asks with full curiosity, peeking is head into the exhibit.

“Wait how did you even get here before I texted you?” Taeyong simply shrugs. “I didn’t go back home. I had lunch then I saw a dude who’s the only one that seem to go inside so I just assume that’s Jaehyun.”

“Wow...” You reply in awe, sounding surprised, buf also not.

Taeyong keeps his eyes at the exhibit, moving his head to see all it from all directions. “Where did he go?”

You pucker your lips in response. “Might have gon’ to that painting again. I don’t know why but every time he comes by, he just looks at this one painting. He can literally stand there and only leave hours later.”

Taeyong laughs, clapping his hands. “There’s no way, you idiot. He obviously moves around while you’re here.” Taeyong breathes out, patting his chest to calm his laughter.

“But I saw him!” You growled, reaching a hand out to punch Taeyong in the chest, making him wince. “Yeah, yeah sure.” Taeyong taunts. You roll your eyes.

Suddenly, you see Jaehyun coming out of the corner. You smack Taeyong’s arm constantly to get his attention and point your finger to the direction where Jaehyun has his back facing you.

“There!” You whisper. You really did look like a fan swooning over her idol.

“Oh my God wait. Yo, Jaehyun!” Taeyong suddenly shouts out. You widen your eyes at his sudden action. You weren’t sure whether that’s suppose to embarrass you or he actually knows Jaehyun.

Jaehyun turns his head around slowly. His eyes went to you first before Taeyong, a bright smile emerging his lips instantly. “Woah Yongie!” Jaehyun walks over. He nudges Taeyong’s shoulder with a balled fist, making him chuckle.

“Uh.. So you know him?” You ask, you finger going back and forth between Taeyong and Jaehyun. Taeyong chuckles, nodding his head. “Yeah back in college.” Taeyong says. “She’s on her last year.” He adds on, gently motioning his hand to you.

“We had a chat yesterday.” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks getting hot ever so slightly. You hum. “I was hoping you’d come so that you can see Taeyong.”

What a huge lie.

Taeyong couldn’t but scoff, making you and Jaehyun look at him with raised brows. “Pft, oh really?” He asks, sounding pushy. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him intensively in hopes that he will not push it any further.

“So!” Taeyong starts after an awkward moment of silence. “Since Jae’s here, wanna eat something for lunch?”

Jaehyun looks up, thinking for awhile before tilting his head back down to Taeyong. Though, his eyes met yours for a split second that made your heart skip a beat. “Alright.”

“Order me take out then.” You say, disappointment filling your tone ever so slightly, which Taeyong instantly picked up.

“Aw I would have invited you if you didn’t have work, right Jae?” Taeyong had a wide smirk on his face for a second before turning to Jaehyun. He lets out a simple chuckle. “True.”

You frown, raising a hand up to wave it at them lazily as a sign to push them away. “Okay, okay. Just go and come back quick. I want food.”

With that, you ended your third day. You ended up spending more time with Jaehyun than you’d expect, which makes you happy every time you thought about him.

The next day, oddly enough, Jaehyun didn’t come by. You didn’t see him coming in around the time he would be entering. And he never did. You waited for him impatiently, waiting eagerly for that one time you get to see him for a brief moment before he goes in to look at the painting yet again.

It felt almost weird to you. Despite you meeting him for only three days, you felt somewhat accustomed to be seeing him for the rest of the week. And him not coming in today felt out of place. It shocked you how attached to him you got. But to be honest, who wouldn’t?

You start wondering why he didn’t come. But the reality dawned on you pretty quick. He had his own live of course. He obviously has other things to do. Work? Family and friends? You thought that he couldn’t possibly be coming in everyday.

“I see you came back with her.” You whisper to Jaehyun, leaning in slightly. He heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples. “It’s... complicated. She’s probably talking to her father.” Jaehyun jerks his head to the seating area outside the exhibit, where you see Nayeon on the phone.

“Sorry if I’m intruding or anything...” You start off. Jaehyun raises both his eyebrows and humming. “But why do you keep coming here? I mean other than yesterday, it just seems like you come here just to look at that one painting in the corner of the exhibit.”

Jaehyun puckers his lips, shrugging after. “That’s complicated to answer too. Well, not really but-”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to answer.”

Just then, Nayeon comes back, running over to Jaehyun and holding his hand, interlocking their fingers. It really made you wonder whether Nayeon is actually Jaehyun’s girlfriend that he loves or is dating her for another reason.

Once again Jaehyun immediately looks bored. Before they walk in the exhibit, he looks over his shoulder to look at you. You mouth a, “Good luck.” With a light laugh, making him nod his head and turning back to the front.

With that, your bore through the hours of your shirt. For such a simple job, you were surprised at how much you were being paid. But that was all you care about anyways. The money. It served you as motivation to just push through the boring hours.

It’s near closing time now. You stood up to walk around the exhibit to make sure there’s no one left. As you head back to the counter to grab your things, you stop in your tracks when you see Jaehyun and Nayeon standing outside at the seating area. “Are they fighting or something?” You mutter to yourself as you watch Nayeon screaming at Jaehyun while he avoids her eyes with folded arms.

You raised a skeptical brow, not knowing what they’re fighting about and continued ahead to pack your things and turning off all the nights. You take one last look around the exhibit before grabbing the keys in your hand.

Just when you were about to head out, you now see Jaehyun sitting on the bench with his back facing you, his head leaning against the glass. You gulp and open the door, making him shot his head towards you.

“What happened? I saw you and Nayeon fighting.” You say, turning around and using the keys to lock up the exhibit. Jaehyun stands up, running a hand through his hair.

“We broke up.” Jaehyun says in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

“Um well I guess you need time alone?” You raised your shoulders, taking in a deep breath.

Jaehyun walks closer to you, and with each step your heart began to race quicker. You bit your bottom lip in nervousness, despite him not standing that close. “Not exactly.” He replies shortly.

You furrow your eyebrows, tilting your head in confusion. “Then what? I’m not exactly the type who’s good at comforting people.” You say, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. “Unless it’s food. I can treat you to food.”

Jaehyun nods his head, glancing sideways before looking down at you. “Okay. Then invite me to dinner.” He reauests nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pocket as he copies your body language.

After blinking your eyes a few times, you say, “W-What like now? Do you want to eat dinner now?”

Jaehyun simply nods. It’s surprising how casual he is towards you, but you really liked it so you didn’t mind. “It’ll be nice if we could drink as well. I need to get Nayeon off my mind for tonight.”

You puff your cheeks and blew the air out. “I know a place.”

It all feels crazy to you right now. You’ve only met Jaehyun in less than a week but here you are, having dinner with him. You could guess that he’s being awfully casual since he knows that you and Taeyong are friends. But it also surprised you as to how the silence between the two of you is comfortable.

The two of you eat in silence, munching on your food with your heads down and glancing at each other a few times while you look up to take a shot of soju.

You eventually start talking. Specifically about his college life and how he met Taeyong. You felt that it’s the only way to connect with him since he did graduate from the same college as the one you’re attending.

“What’s your major?” Jaehyun asks as he reaches his hand out to pour me a shot. I downed it quickly, exhaling calmly. “Psychology. Have pills of homework I need to get done.”

You click your tongue, twirling the fork in your hand as you feel the alcohol kicking in already. To be fair, you are one to get drunk easily. Jaehyun doesn’t know that, and you’ve subconsciously been drinking more than your usual intake as your chat with Jaehyun goes on.

“Really? Why didn’t you say? I took psychology too.” You raise both eyebrows in response, closing your eyes for a moment. “Perhaps you can help me.”

Jaehyun leans in, his chin resting on his fingers that were interlocked. “Should we go somewhere?” You tilt your head, placing a hand behind your neck and rubbing it gently. “Where exactly?” You question him.

“Your home. Where else? Taeyong must be worried that you’re drunk on a work night.” You scoff in amusement, your mouth still open after you did. “And? It’s just a part time job.” You giggle, covering your face with the palm of your hand. Clearly, you already weren’t in your right mind.

You didn’t know how, but you blanked out. And somehow arrived at the rooftop of a run down apartment. But after looking around, you facepalm yourself in your mind, realising it’s your apartment’s rooftop that you’re at.

You had your head laid on Jaehyun’s shoulder. Turning your head slightly, it made Jaehyun look down on you. “Awake already?” He whispers, leaning in and making his face inches away from yours. To which you couldn’t help but blush in a matter of seconds.

“What time is it?” You scrambled around to find your bag to take out your phone but before you could turn of your phone, Jaehyun replies, “Two in the morning.” with a casual tone.

“Are you the type to wake up late?” He asks once again. You took this time, in your “drunken” state to snuggle your head into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, finding a comfortable spot and breathing in his scent. A scent you could indulge yourself with all the time if you could.

You hum. “Yeah. Not gonna lie, I’ll probably be late tomorrow.” Your lips brushed against Jaehyun’s skin as you reply.

Jaehyun clears his throat, letting out a sigh. “Do you want to know why I always go to the same painting at the exhibit?” You bit your lower lip. Finally, the question you have asked yourself throughout the days when Jaehyun comes by.

“That one painting. It’s actually my grandmother’s. She painted it before she passed away. I found out about the exhibit Xiaojun was gonna open, and asked him to display for painting.”

As Jaehyun talks, you take in the atmosphere. The cold breeze against your skin. The night sky reflecting its moonlight onto the city’s streets and building. How peaceful it all felt, with the person you’ve been wanting this whole week the moment you saw him. You know how you got close to him, but it also felt as though you didn’t. Like a atring attached to the two of you, getting shorter and shorter till you reach this moment. A moment where you are so close that it feels like it’s too close.

“Her painting showed her own way of depicting love. I saw the other arts in the exhibit, it all had one general idea. Love. Different artists, different perspectives of love. Some showed it to be seen as butterflies and rainbows. While others depict it as something to stay away from, something you should be afraid of. Romantic love, that is.”

You hum, nodding your head. “I never expected you to be someone this deep.” You mumble. Jaehyun replies with a chuckle. A chuckle you have now grown used to. “I do art, other than psychology. But I stopped when I had to make more time for my major.”

“Continue.” You whisper. He takes a second to tilt his head up and taking in a deep breath before resuming.

“My grandmother’s painting showed both the good and bad sides of love. I knew her love life wasn’t a regular one. But I somehow was able to understand it after hours of just staring at her painting and its very brief description about it.”

You smile to yourself. You really could hear him talk for hours on end and never get tired of it.

“Want to know something?”

You absentmindedly wrap your arms around his torso, moving in close to get even more comfortable. It felt right just doing it. Surprisingly enough, Jaehyun wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close. Not too tight, not too loose. His touch sent constant electric shocks throughout your body. But it felt right. Just this moment alone, like time has frozen for you to admire it while it lasts.

“I hoped everyday you’d come to the exhibit. Just to see your face.” You say, closing your eyes as you feel his heartbeat on his chest, putting you at ease. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun’s drunk, if he’d remember anything you say. You did think of the embarrassment you’d have to face the next day, but you just didn’t bother.

“I caught your eye that fast?” Jaehyun asks.

You nod your head immediately. “You should know that yourself.”

The two of your laugh softly at the same time. This feeling, this moment. Is it the alcohol that’s doing all this? Is Jaehyun really like this or is it only when he’s drunk? Is he actually taking whatever you’re saying and can remember it the first thing in the morning?

You know you could’nt. Which is why you try to take in this night as much as possible so that it would be in your memory forever, dream or not.

“Let’s go to the exhibit together tomorrow. I’ll come by your house to pick you up.”

Silence ensues, this time it’s much longer. But as mentioned before, you felt comfortable, as though this is how it should have always been.

A sudden connection you feel with a mere stranger. Within days, you've formed an unfamiliar yet familiar bond with him, despite the minimal interactions. The world somehow made the two of you end up in such a cliche situation.

“Would love that.”

170 notes · View notes

pcvensies · 4 years ago

Note

Are requests open? If so,can you do being a child of Apollo and dating Annabeth?

Pray.

in which Annabeth is brought to the infirmary cabin with serious injuries, and you and your siblings freeze, so you pray to your father Apollo to save her.

word count: 1600~

trigger warning: wounds, blood, main character almost dying.

info: apollo!child reader x annabeth chase, gender neutral, kinda rushed & not proofread but there ya go. ENJOY.

Will’s hand felt comforting against your shoulder, and you sighed deeply, drying your hands against your pants.

The water was still running behind you, and your brother turned off the tap, allowing the remaining water to strain the blood down the sink of the infirmary cabin.

Your heart beat fast, the echo of it pulsating inside of your head as you tried to keep your breathing under control.

Eleven demigods laid on different beds of the room, wounds healing and being treated by your siblings. They had tried to sneak out in the dark of the night, to do the Gods know what, and had been attacked by a monster in the forest.

“I can’t stabilise her, Will!”, Prissy, one of your sisters, screamed, and the blonde boy didn’t hesitate on running to her, as did two more of your siblings.

You walked back to one of the beds, where a son of Hermes groaned in pain, his leg broken. You handed him a plastic glass of ambrosia, and he drank it slowly, trying not to choke on it.

“Hey, hey…”, you smiled at him, even though you could feel anger’s warmth pooling on your stomach, “Careful, it won’t go anywh—”.

The door hitting the wall behind you cut you off, and you turned around immediately.

Your eyes soon fell on Percy, who had been sent with some other demigods to look for anyone that could still be in the forest.

His presence comforted you, but you soon felt panic return as you noticed the expression of terror drawn on his face.

You looked down from him to the person he was carrying, and a scream left your lungs when you saw it was a blonde girl you knew more than well.

Percy dropped her on the only empty bed, looking back at you with pleading eyes, and your siblings froze at the sight of her, a wound on her stomach spitting dark blood, her face pale. Her silver colored eyes were closed, lips partly opened as she took small breaths.

Your hands soon fell over the injury, applying pressure to it in hopes of stopping the blood flow.

“She was— Annabeth was...”, the son of Poseidon tried to speak, but his mind was foggy, “Is she… Is…”.

Will grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him away from the bed so more of your siblings could get to work, but his panicked cries pierced your ears like daggers.

“She’s… She’s my best friend, Will, I— I can’t… Y/n say something!”, he screamed, but you didn’t answer.

Millions of thoughts swirled inside of your head, shaky hands now colored with your girlfriend’s blood as you tried to focus.

You could feel her pulse weakening under your touch, the way her chest rose slower with each breath she took.

Your siblings looked at you with scared expressions: they all knew her, Annabeth had received all of them at Camp, and no one could react as blood continued to come out of her.

“Y/n what do we do?!”.

“Y/n she’s dying!”.

“I think she’s not breathing, Y/n!”.

“Will, Y/n do something!”.

“Annabeth is dying!”.

All their voices surrounded you, their pleads and fear crawling through your skin, making your heart go crazy, and you feel yourself start to get dizzy. You had to do something, you had to save her.

“Y/n we have to—”, Will started to speak over them.

Before he could finish, a single scream made everyone go silent. A pained, broken cry for help, that shook even Percy from the insides.

“Apollo!”, your shaky voice echoed inside of the cabin, lights flickering, “Father please save her, please help me save her!”.

Everyone inside of the room was frozen, their eyes on you as you cried over her inert body, tears rolling down your cheeks and falling on the back of your red hands.

“Don’t let her die like this, don’t— I love her, please!”.

Even through your closed eyes, you could see a dim golden light in front of you, and soon, it’s warmth filled you up like a hot coffee on a winter night.

You opened your eyes, and the first thing you saw was one of your sisters’ faces, eyes open wide, hands over her mouth as she gasped.

You blinked, a single round, salty tear falling from your eyes, but it was hot. So hot it felt like boiling water rolling down your cheek, so bright it looked like a golden drop. And where it fell, it healed.

You pulled your hands away, watching Annabeth’s wound close and heal, ignoring the reddish, burned line that went from your eye to your jawline.

And like that, as the injury finally closed, she took in a sharp breath.

( . . . )

Annabeth tasted copper in the back of her mouth when she opened her eyes, the yellowish light of the morning sun sliding through the curtains of what she recognised as the infirmary.

Her hand went instinctively to her stomach, in which to her surprise, she didn’t find anything but her soft skin, warm under the covers of the bed.

The sound of your voice found her, distant, and Will’s went right after, as he asked you if it still hurt. You denied, reassuring him that he had done a good job, and Annabeth felt a smile creep on her lips as she heard you teo chuckle.

A curtain in front of her swiped open, and you were the first thing she saw. Your face was wounded, a long scar covering your cheek all the way from your left eye to your jaw, and the blonde girl felt her stomach flip at the sight of it.

But her worry soon disappeared as she felt your arms around her, one of your hands on her back and the other behind her head, holding her close to you. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders, memories coming back to her as you pulled away.

“What in the Hades were you thinking, Annabeth? Why were you even—”, you started speaking, eyebrows knotted together in worry, but she interrupted you.

“I saw them sneaking out. They were all kids, babe, young campers… I wanted to bring them back”.

Something inside of you softened, the anger you had been trying to hard to control suddenly disappearing as she cupped your face gently. She was just trying to keep those kids safe.

Her thumb run over your wound carefully, but the touch still made your flinch, and the silver eyed girl frowned.

“You were dying, Annie…”, you spoke softly, your eyes on hers, “And we couldn’t do anything, we all froze and… and I prayed for Apollo to save you”.

Annabeth gasped at your words, her eyes filling with tears as you shook your head, sitting on the edge of her bed and taking her hands on yours.

She tried to apologise, but you shook your head again, one of your hands moving to her face, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear.

You took in as much of her as you could, from her eyebrows to her chin, and the way her hair framed her face perfectly. Each of her eyelashes, light and long, and the slight freckles that covered her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

She looked at you the same, trying to memorise your features like if it was the last time she’d see you. (gif)

“You are hurt because of me, baby… You got hurt to save me”.

You wiped away one of her tears, leaning in to press a soft kiss on her forehead, and she hugged you again.

You could feel the guilt through her skin, but also the fear. After all, she had almost died.

You looked back at your brother, and he nodded, giving you a small smile before leaving you two alone, and you moved to lay down on the bed, on the side of your body.

The blonde girl did the same, scooting closer to you.

“I would do it again without a doubt, Annie… Please don’t be upset, it doesn’t even hurt”, you reassured her softly, as her arms wrapped around your waist, her head tucked under your chin, “You scared the life out of me, sweetheart…”

She nodded slowly, her shaky frame fitting perfectly against you, and Annabeth pressed a small kiss to your neck.

“I’m so sorry, baby”, she whispered, and you sighed softly, pulling away from her slightly so you could look down at her.

She looked at you with sad eyes, and you leaned in to kiss her again, speaking through the kiss like you couldn’t through words, pouring all your love in it. Her hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks gently, and she pulled away, resting her forehead against yours.

“If you ever see some kids running away again, just don’t follow them. Leave being a hero to someone else next time, alright, Wonder Woman?”, you joked gently, and she chuckled, nodding.

You kissed her again, smiles coloring both your faces now, and if someone asked, you would swear you saw a golden light spark through the window.

#pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase one shot #annabeth chase imagine #annabeth chase #percy jackson imagine #pjo imagine

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 4 years ago

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Hello! If you don't mind me asking, are you planning on watching House of the Dragon? I'm personally unsure about it. I was cautiously optimistic about it since D&D are not involved, but the recent casting news have been ugh disappointing imo. What do you think?

Hey anon! Sorry to say I kind of mind you asking because my inbox is still closed (to everyone except my secret Santas, which is why the ask page is accessible at all), but then I realized it’s possible if you’re on the mobile app only, you haven’t seen said note in my askbox, or my FAQ, or anything of the sort. And with older metas of mine being reblogged recently, it’s possible you may be confused. (I hope you’re on mobile only and not just ignoring my requests.) So I wanted to inform you of that... but also, y’know, I kind of wanted to make a post about the HotD cast anyway? And this ask is as good a prompt as any... so, you’re lucky, but please don’t push your luck. ;)

So, straight up: I currently have no plans to watch House of the Dragon. HBO is not getting any of my goddamn money, I don’t trust like that. And hunting down illegal livestreaming sites is a pain in the ass and I regret ever doing it for GoT, as well as regretting getting drunk every weekend enough to dampen my senses to ever tolerate that show. Yeah it’s different showrunners and writers, I know. It’s still (mostly) the same executives at HBO and even if the pervert producer is gone (or is he?), you know they still just want to sell sex and violence and dragons to an audience that thinks fantasy is for geeks.

Also, considering that Fire & Blood’s story of Dance of the Dragons has very little actual narrative or dialogue, and the historical record is deliberately untrustworthy, that gives them pretty much full rein to do whatever they like with the story and characterization and words without even being slightly obliged to GRRM at all. Furthermore, since the story is wholly political with virtually none of the magical side of ASOIAF (excepting dragons), and honestly does not have much in the way of themes or depth that main ASOIAF or even D&E has, I think it will be very hard for an adaptation to show even those brief sparks of quality that used to make me wistful GoT couldn’t be that good all the time and eventually just made me frustrated and depressed. Note I do like the history and characters of the Dance despite myself, despite its many many many textual issues, but I don’t need to see an adaptation, I have a very visual imagination. I don’t watch a lot of television to begin with, I don’t see why I should start again with this.

However, I’m not going to avoid spoilers or discussion, and I’ll probably follow the show the tumblr way, through gifsets and video clips and people bitching on their blogs etc. If, somehow, by some miracle of good screenwriting and acting, the show manages to transcend its source material, I’m sure I will be informed. And then, if and only if then, I may try watching. (Without, of course, giving HBO any of my goddamn money.) We shall see.

(Though I certainly don’t know why anyone in Targ standom would ever watch a Dance adaptation considering almost every Targaryen and everyone else in the story is terrible except Helaena and the kids, and considering how the story ends, unless y’all are gluttons for punishment? (I do not comprehend hatewatching, sorry.) It’ll probably be fun at first to see the adventures of those “precious silver douchebags” (to borrow a friend’s tag), but eventually rocks fall, everyone dies, including the girlboss you know you’ll hope the story will be changed enough that she succeeds. Just letting you know now, she won’t.)

That said. I’ve been following the casting news and I think the hate/fear/wild screaming is entirely overblown. Yeah, I know, but wait, just listen. On Friday I officially welcomed @naomimakesart to the “favorite character is now played by an actor who looks nothing like most fanart and is mostly known for wildly different roles” club. I still remember that day in September 2009 when my brother texted me “yarp”... and that right there is the thing. Yeah. Rory McCann looks very little like most pre-GoT Sandor fanart... but many fans grew to love him anyway. (There are some who never did, of course. And yeah the character went off the rails by the end, but truly, who didn’t. Having seen his audition, having spoken to him and heard him wistfully talk about book scenes he loved, I’m convinced if Rory had only been given Sandor’s actual scenes and such, he would’ve killed it. Sigh. Deep, deep sigh.)

And Rory isn’t the only one. Neither of the actors for Jaime and Cersei were considered “beautiful” enough at first. I recall very clearly people bitching about Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (about his nose particularly?) because they had wanted Tarzan-era Travis Fimmel to be Jaime. (Seeing people bitch because current-Fimmel isn’t playing Daemon made me laugh out loud for both BEYONCE?! meme -type “why would you ever cast him omg he doesn’t fit my headcanon Daemon at all”, and amazing amounts of fandom flashbacks.) Lena Headey was “too square-jawed”, “too mean-looking” (since at the beginning you should never be able to guess she’s evil), “too dark-complected”, “too mannish”, not at all attractive enough. (Tricia Helfer was the most common “but I wanted” for Cersei, btw.) And of course “they don’t remotely look like twins, ugh!” Note, there’s receipts for all of this, none of it is made up. (Unfortunately.) Those two actors are just the ones whose casting wank I recall most clearly, particularly because oh how the turn tables.

Also. You know, there’s a post with Matt Smith and Mark Simonetti’s TWOIAF Daemon going around with shrieks of horror... and I’m finding it maddening in a “am I crazy? am I the crazy one???” way, because Matt looks like the painting. Their features are not that dissimilar.

Same deepset eyes. Same cheekbones of doom. Same thin lips. Same protruding chin. Same high forehead. Same invsible eyebrows ffs. Matt has a squarer jaw, and a longer more rectangular face, and a wider nose, but considering that Daemon’s features are not described in the text, and this is the only official ASOIAF artwork that shows Daemon’s face straight on, I can for sure see why he was probably shortlisted to begin with. And that’s not even getting into to his role in The Crown, which I’ve heard is very well played with politics and palace intrigue... and if you doubt Smith can play seductive/roguish and/or evil (depending on how you LARP as a Westeros historian), or look good with long hair... well. I do not want to watch the movie, but this trailer is disturbingly enlightening.

And as for Rhaenyra... y’all know this show is starting at the beginning of the story, right? When she’s a teenager? Not a voluptuous MILF? Yeah, Emma D’Arcy doesn’t look like a Magali Villeneueve painting (though who does, good lord), but you know who she does look remarkably like? Harry Lloyd.

Same jawline. Same nose. Same thin lips. Same sharp cheekbones. Notably, same kind of sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes as Matt Smith. HBO evidently has a concept of a “Targaryen look” that’s a little bit quirkier than supermodel-Greek statue-gods on earth, yeah, fine. But it’s consistent, and they look like family, and that-- that is good casting.

And yeah, in a few months to a year or so, you’ll see them in costume and wigs and makeup, you’ll see them in motion and speaking lines, and go Oh. That’s different. Never mind. And while people will make fanart of the show depictions of the characters and those will probalby get popular, they’ll also keep doing fanart of their pre-show headcanons, and those too will be popular. (God knows when I draw or visualize book!Sandor, Rory does not come to mind, lol.) Either way, there’s no reason to panic. We’ll live.

(Though will we live well? Got to wait on the writing and showrunning for that, alas.)

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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The Ultimate Drabble

➜ 1.8k || OT7 || Fluff

➜ When all the worlds collide together.

► This is an ambitious crossover of all the main male leads of my slice of life series. Albeit short, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for joining me for such a long journey. It took over four years, but I’m glad that I was able to complete it and that you, the reader, was along the wild ride with me.

Ringg Ringgg.

The elevator sings as he gets off the right floor. The doors part and he steps out, adjusting the sleeves of his fitted black suit that hug his broad shoulders one last time and brushing a strand of his sleek hair that’s parted to one side away from his forehead.

There’s already a bustle, music and conversations leaking out from the conference hall.

But when Seokjin enters, he isn’t sure where to go.

People are already mingling, holding glasses of champagne, laughing and making small talk. No one greets him and he dawdles around for a second before he decides to approach the harpist playing at the side, right by the entrance.

“Excuse me, do you know who the event coordinator is?”

The long-legged boy lifts his head, fingers still plucking at his harp strings, but he exhibits utter confusion. His black rimmed and gawky glasses are sliding off his nose, coffee brown hair barely combed. But in his polite smile, dimples appear on each side of his cheek. “I actually don’t know, sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out who the event coordinator is too. I’m just a hired college student.”

“Oh. Well, that’s quite alright. Thank you.”

“No problem.” The boy continues plucking, playing a lovely piece to fill the background noise.

But Seokjin is back to square one.

Or at least for only a few minutes.

As soon as he arrives at the refreshments table, he catches someone’s eye and they beeline straight towards him. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Kim?”

Seokjin turns around and finds a smiling man with plump lips, rounded cheeks, and crinkled eyes. But despite the boyish exterior, Seokjin recognizes him from the shows he’s been to. He’s Tony award-winning Broadway actor, Park Jimin.

It was admirable that someone like him, with fame and power, would selflessly host such a charity purely for the betterment of humanity. Everyone these days seems to have ulterior motives, but the man looks to be the exception.

“Yes, I am.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Park Jimin.” The two men shake hands. “I couldn’t thank you enough for being one of the sponsors of our events.”

“It’s my pleasure. Valleyview Kim Hospital will always help support child welfare. If anything, I should be thanking you for reaching out to me. I wouldn’t want to miss out on such a great opportunity.”

The pair of them exchange a bit more conversation before Jimin is leading Seokjin to his designated table.

“This is Jung Hoseok,” Jimin introduces and Seokjin is taken aback.

The man is tall with dark hair, dressed in a fitted suit with his sun-kissed skin glowing. He has high cheekbones with a long nose, mere presence commanding attention. But when he glances up and stands, the natural furrow of his brows seems to soften intentionally like he’s still practicing how to not look intimidating.

“Nice to meet you. I’m a partner of Jung and Park, a divorce law firm here in downtown.”

“I’m Mr. Kim Seokjin, I’m the chief executive officer of Valleyview Kim Hospital.”

“Oh, I’ve been a few times.” The lawyer seems to ease and he smiles.

“Have you?”

“Yes. Fortunately, nothing bad happened but you have an amazing team of doctors on hand.”

“Thank you. I’m glad we were able to accommodate and treat you fairly.”

Jimin smiles and moves onto the next set of people that stood from their seats to greet Seokjin. There’s a plump man who has a wide smile and a younger boy next to him. The latter has eyes the colour of a deep chestnut shade, a softened yet strong gaze. His features are gentle, cheeks rounded, lashes long, hair that looks fluffy to the touch and naturally pouty lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! I am Mr. Min, president of Brilliant Top School. One of the best secondary schools in the country, and this is my son, Min Yoongi. He is a high academic, actually, the Student Council President that runs the internal affairs in our institution—”

“Dad,” the high-schooler calls in a husky voice, eyes drooping as if he’s exhausted and doesn’t want to be here.

Seokjin can empathize with him. Social events aren’t exactly exciting half the time.

“It’s nice to meet you. I look forward to hearing more about your school soon.”

They all take their seats, getting comfortable and Jimin smiles. “Dinner will begin shortly. Feel free to mingle and order any drinks or refreshments. There’s also auctions in the lobby if you haven't already taken a look. Thank you again for coming.”

The charity fundraiser looks like it’s doing well for itself. There appears to be plenty of sponsors from all across the board, different people from all kinds of different industries. Seokjin’s glad that so many can come together for such a great cause.

“Do you know who the empty seats are for?” he asks when curiosity gets the better of him.

The lawyer looks up from his menu. “Apparently, it’ll be where the First Lady is sitting.”

“The First Lady?” His brows raise in surprise.

Hoseok nods. “She was the biggest sponsor of tonight’s event or so I’m told.”

And soon enough, much to the bafflement of Seokjin, the First Lady indeed emerges. There are pictures taken with the hired photographers, people that approach and introduce themselves, shaking her hand. Swarmed by the masses, it seems like she can’t even get to the table without being stopped every few seconds. But eventually she arrives and everyone stands in courtesy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kim.”

“Likewise.” She smiles and introduces the boy Jin didn’t notice was behind her. “This is my stepson, Taehyung.”

“Hi,” he grunts half-heartedly. His blonde hair is a mess, clothing rather baggy, and the scruff all over his chin never once gives hints that he’s the wealthy son of a world leader. He doesn’t have brand name clothing, a polished appearance, or luxurious watches to his name. But despite appearing rugged, he looks not that much older than a mere college student.

“Hello.” Hands are shaken, greetings exchanged, but Taehyung doesn’t look like he wants to be here. Both he and Yoongi, with no words said to one another, seem to telepathically exchange mutual respect in that way.

A smile finds itself on Seokjin’s lips — he can still remember when he was that young and unimpressed with the world.

“Thank you for your contribution to this country.” Mr. Min is shaking the First Lady’s hand excitedly. “The funding you have put into education has helped us run so many programs for our students, like our scholarship program. The previous administration was looking to cut education, and it was absolutely terrible! It’s nice to know that there’s someone sitting in office who genuinely cares about the well-being of our children and the future generation.”

The woman is laughing politely, and this time, the principal’s son looks like he has no plans on stopping his ramble and the president’s son doesn’t look like he particularly cares either.

The former grabs his non-alcoholic champagne and downs the whole flute.

Soon, the conversations slow down and the music becomes quieter. The lights dim, and a single spotlight is put on the podium in front of the room. Jimin enters the stage, tapping the microphone once and then he flashes a brilliant smile.

“Good evening, everyone and welcome to the Break the Silence charity fundraiser. Tonight is about helping children find their voices, supporting child welfare in broken homes, and promoting the education of children in need. So, thank you for coming here tonight and aiding this great cause. Without the support and sponsors of tonight, I would’ve never been able to host such an event.”

The Broadway actor continues with his speech, speaking about each of the sponsors for the non-profit fundraiser and the bidding that’s happening in the lobby, and where the proceeds will go. Afterwards, it dials down to a more casual discussion of when meals will be served and when the bidding results will be announced.

“Thank you everyone who came here today to support the cause.” There’s loud applause that erupts through the room and the actor smiles, walking off the stage.

The harp player in the corner continues playing and plucking away at his strings, and promptly enough, the meals are served. Seokjin finds easy conversation with Hoseok. It never goes anything beyond polite work talk but he’s rather easy to speak to and Jin muses that he’s quite professional.

The First Lady is swamped the entire night, so there’s little he can say to her. Her stepson, on the other hand, doesn’t seem like he wants to talk and neither does the highschooler who’s found often texting on his phone with a smile that sometimes sneaks on his lips. His father isn’t bothered enough to ask him who it is on the other side — he’s too preoccupied speaking about the scholarship student program at his institution to other people mingling around.

But eventually, dinner is finished and dessert is served.

Though not before the chef comes out to personally introduce the dish.

“Good evening, I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight.” The man who approaches has doe eyes and dark hair flopping to the side. His black dress shirt is tucked into his black trousers hugging his muscular frame. Apparently his name is Jeon Jungkook, a World Renowned Chocolatier, or at least what Jimin had commemorated at the beginning and what Mr. Min had whispered about prior to the dish being served. “This is a chocolate ball created by using Amedei Porcelana, a dark chocolate made by the Amedei chocolatier of Tuscany, Italy. The chocolate on the side that you pour onto the ball is a sweeter milk chocolate, and there’s crème brûlée ice-cream inside with truffle shavings.”

“Thank you.” The First Lady picks up her fork.

Mr. Min is in awe. “This is absolutely wonderful.”

And for the first time tonight, Yoongi and Taehyung look like they’re actually alive and not half dying.

“This looks delicious,” Seokjin affirms and Jungkook smiles.

“Please, enjoy.” The man continues on his way, a waiter following behind him and rolling the silver cart to help distribute the desserts.

It’s odd. Seokjin feels a sense of familiarity with these people. And in spite of being surrounded by complete strangers, he enjoys his night wholeheartedly.

The event continues, food finished and the bidding results announced. After a little more mingling, people begin to bid their farewells and Seokjin parts away from Hoseok, shaking the man’s hand once more with a promise that if the lawyer ever needs something from the hospital, then he’s just one call away. It’s an acquaintance-relationship built on mutual respect.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kim.”

“It was a pleasure.” Jin shakes Jimin’s hand one last time. “Feel free to contact me if you ever plan on organizing an event like this again. I would love to contribute to great causes.”

“I will.” They exchange smiles.

It’s a peculiar night, but not a bitter one.

It’s sweet.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #AND WITH THIS - THE LAST PAGE HAS BEEN TURNED

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seijohsfairy · 4 years ago

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Anonymous

ahh!! all the nii-san posts are so good, but have you considered twin brother tobio who thinks your the only one for him

I have,, It has affected my sanity and rings in my head a hundred times a day. I hate it here. Truly. This became sorta really long? But I hope you enjoy (・´ｪ｀・)

tw incest, dubcon if you squint

The flashes of light are incessant, an obnoxious wave of noisy shutters filling the silence in between mutters and questions. Your fists around the bottom lining of your old jacket, denting the fabric under the light ministrations of your fingertips. It’s nerves, they still creep up from time to time when you feel the eyes. They linger, curious or accusatory ones alike. Another flash makes you blink, then it’s quiet. You take a breath at the same time he does, accidental, but of course you do. You’ve always mirrored him after all, even when you weren’t trying. Tobio holds the air until everything grows completely immovable, like still water in winter.

His eyebrows twitch slightly, before he speaks. “I am happy.” Simple, straightforward, you can’t help but let your smile shine through. He eyes the interviewer for a moment, before nodding. “We’ve all worked hard to prove we deserve a spot on the court, it was a good match and I’m happy with the outcome.” The interviewers quickly take notes, before another sea of flashes rains down on the curved panes of his face. It’s his standard post-match ramble, nothing new there, but you can see the spark of victory where it bends him in two and shatters at the fold. “And,” his eyes flick around across the small group of people.

They find yours. “My sister came to support us in the stands so I am very proud.” The deep blues rest on you like you’re the end of a war, his lips turning upwards at the sides. He is proud, of you, and you of him just as much. Or even more if possible, though you are quicker to lower your gaze at the attention. An interviewer to your side clears her voice, before clicking her pen a few times in rapid succession. The press irritates him, though he’s gotten very good at hiding it over the years. In this moment though, you can tell.

It’s written all over in the way he stands on balls of his feet, like he’s ready to sprint out. You wonder if he would reach for you before setting off, or if you’d have to chase him down the hall like another of the fans. Either way you wouldn’t be far behind, it’s just the nature of your relationship. The lads presses her ruby lips together. “When will you take another girlfriend to a game? You broke up with your last girlfriend in May, fans want to know if it is true that you are keeping your newest fling private.”

Ushijima gives you a little head tilt as he walks past, his cheeks coloured from exhaustion, towel still dangling around his neck. You return it. A few of the interviewers immediately turn their attention to him, snapping photos and calling out for him with an almost violent greediness, the small interaction not going unnoticed. You think you hear someone mention your name to him in the same line as ‘dating’, and Wakatoshi’s deep chuckle is comforting when he leads the bunch of them down the hall. Tobio is frowning when you turn back, at the woman with the high ponytail and red lips that shimmer under the artificial lighting.

“I would’ve kept all of it private if that could have been the end of it.” He raises a hand to brush some of his sweaty hair away from his face, before dropping his eyes to the floor. “I only bring the people precious to me to my games.” He does. He asks happily, over the phone like a giddy child, at the crack of dawn when he goes for his run. You’ve complained about it many times. He still does it though, because Tobio is nothing if not persistent. You only notice him moving because the people around you gasp and gawk, flinching away from him like he’s other. He is, too, a different breed entirely.

His long fingers are around your wrist, pulling you from behind the lenses to his side, tucked against his shoulder like a little parasite. That’s what you think you must look like when the flashing starts. Tobio’s arm wraps around your back and rests his chin on your head though, allowing you to fit right in his hold. Another one of his shiny trophies. His smile looks a little brighter from this angle. “My sister is the only one who has never missed a game of mine. If you want to report on anything, this is the person I am most grateful for in my life right now. I’m very lucky to have her support.”

It feels unreal. Someone calls out your name, the shutters get the noisiest they’ve been all day. It won’t be a headline in the making, you try to calm yourself, bowing at the same time Tobio does. He drops his hand to wrap around yours, and tugs you behind him. It’s straightforward, your brother always is. The violent banging against your rib cage is less so, but you’ve gotten used to it already.

///

“Why did you say all that stuff to those guys earlier? Were you not feeling too well?” Tobio looks up from where he’s putting his bag down, his eyes shooting up along your body. “You’re normally good at dealing with the press post-match.” You put the towel under the water, before turning back towards the main room of your apartment.

“What did I say that was wrong?” He tosses his sweaty shirt on the heap of jerseys and leggings to wash, picking up his towel and swinging it around his neck. You look down again, playing with the fluffy fabric as you approach.

“Nothing, Tobio. I just-” you linger at the couch, resting your hip against it, “you don’t normally egg on rumours about your dating life. It’ll be fine because it’s me, but if it were anyone else people might be cautious of your words. They really want a story on the details, you know. And I’m not really used to being next to you on pictures, it was a bit surprising, s’all.”

“I meant what I said.”

He closes the rest of the distance for you, standing toes to toes. You don’t look up until you can feel the soft puff of air on your head, where he lays a kiss. It feels warm, and good, and you bite your tongue when the pounding of your heart starts feeling painful against your chest. You duck away from it the second time, pushing his chin up with two fingers instead. Tobio smiles into his exhale, as you trace across his features with the wet towel. Brows, eyes, nose, under his chin and along the line of his throat. “Are you mad at me?” He drops his eyes back to yours when you frown, before tacking onto your slight frustration. “Or about the dating?”

“Tobio,” you mumble, pulling out of his vicinity too late. His hand is already on your forearm, tugging you right back in place. Face to his chest with barely enough space to look up all the way to his handsome face. You try to keep it out, but your tongue starts to feel a bit bitter anyway. “I really don’t want to-”

“Because we can stop doing that as soon as you say so. They get paid a lot of money, money I’d rather be using on us. I’m tired of doing it.”

Even now, still spent from the match, he smells like safety. Like home, perfectly familiar. You have to physically distance yourself from him by turning your eyes to the couch, not to melt right into him. “Then don’t,” you nod. “But then I have to stop being less… everywhere with you too, and I don’t think you want that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a good actor, Tobio. I can’t pretend not to care and people will look at us, and see.”

“Then let them.”

You sigh, dropping the towel aside under the arm that he’s still holding. He draws gentle circles into the soft skin, like he’s trying to unpick the rips in every single fiber of your threaded sanity. “You’re impossible.” He bends his knees and drops to your level, kissing you. Softly, a few feather-light kisses that shut you up, and then one that breaks you open. He pulls you into him by the waist, the hard lines of his chest against your softer ones. The press of his lips to yours is sweet, though entirely guilty as he uses the leverage on your body to walk you back a little, melting into you.

He bites at your bottom lip and swipes his tongue at yours, sucking eagerly. You imagine his tongue to spell out ‘mine’ on the soft parts of your mouth a million times, because when he gives you a break to breathe you’re dizzy. “You said we weren’t going to do this again.”

“I‘ve been a better liar than you for a while, little sister,” he grins, though you can see the hesitation in his eyes too. This is such a bad thing, it’s wrong, you know it and Tobio must know too. It eats you up inside, but maybe that’s why it’s so easy to believe him. You let your face drop against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his chest dictate yours. “You were made for me, remember? And I for you. And I wished that we’d get married and you wished we’d always be together forever.”

“On our fifth birthday,” you remind him, ignoring his hand when it starts playing with the edge of your worn jacket. It’s his, you suddenly hate how obvious you are. Tobio hums softly at your frown.

“I never stopped meaning it.” He uses one of his long legs to hook around yours and pushes you over into the couch, though you land softly. And while you’re trying to catch your breath from the sudden tilt, he follows you down, coming to lift your knees open and upwards. He leans down on his forearms on top of you, and presses another kiss to your lips. This one is lazier, like he’s already won. He has. Because you shouldn’t be in this situation at all. “I love you,” he whispers, starting to kiss down your neck and zipping open his old jacket from your body.

His large body slotted in between your legs, he presses his hips into you just enough to drive you absolutely mad. “I can’t stay away from you, so stop pushing already,” he moans, reaching down to shift himself in his shorts. Your body, the traitorous thing, basically shudders in excitement when he pulls your top underneath your tits, leaning down to take a bud into his mouth. “Say it,” he ruts his hips into yours now, the friction making you whine. It feels so good, he feels so good.

“I- I love you,” you close your eyes when he smiles at you again, lifting himself from your body to drag your shorts and panties down your legs. “Ah- ‘want you, Tobio.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, sitting back in the couch, “want you too, been wanting you for so long. So long, you have no idea.” He pulls at you until you get up too, sitting you down on his lap, his hard cock slotted between your thighs with a his. “How did you expect me to fuck this perfect, little hole and forget about it, anyway? I belong in this tight cunny, it belongs to me.” He’s rambling, humping you in his lap with his head thrown back and his fingers digging so deep into the skin of your hips they might leave permanent indents.

You press a few kisses to his throat, which he grunts at, before lining up and sliding down the head. He’s already so big, that’s what you remember most. You twitch as you lower yourself on him, moaning through the deep breaths. He stretches you so wide it’s hard to think of anything else, just Tobio. Tobio, Tobio, your Tobio. He drops his forehead on your shoulder when you’re full, before thrusting up into you. You start moving up and down too fast for his liking but your patience has worn too thin for slow. “Wait, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Tobio chokes, shoving you back down in his lap. His cockhead is already at the very end of your sloppy cunt, pressing against every inch.

“Want your fat cock to break me open, please. I need it. I need you. Tobio, please.” He kisses down your face and neck to let you adjust a moment longer, before rolling his length deep inside you once, twice, filling you up over and over again. Mind blank, you lift yourself up a bit higher to drop down on him, his breathing getting shallower by the second. He mumbles out soft curses, and you cling to him. You won’t last. “T-Tobio,” you beg, and he slides his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit with precise movements. “Wanna cum on your cock. You too, cum into me, please.”

He only picks up the pace more when he flips you back over on your back, rutting his cock into you so deep it kisses your cervix with each thrust. Fingers sliding through the sticky mess with calculated precision. “Cum then, slutty girl. Cum on your brother’s cock, you deserve it. I’ll fuck you until you can’t ever think of what others think again.” His hips smack into your doughy skin with every pump, stretching you wide open for him. You can only hang onto him while you cum, moaning his name over and over. “Ahg— Tobio, fuck, holyfuckholyfuck I love you. Love you, Tobio!” Your arms around his shoulders, nails ruining his beautiful skin. “I’m sorry,” you breathe as he kisses you, never once stopping.

He doesn’t give you rest, can’t. But his lips are all over yours, comforting you even now. “I know, baby, I know.” He forces himself to slow down a little as you clamp around him so tight, not ready to let this end. His hips twitch, eyes sharpening on your fucked expression. The rush of love he feels should be illegal. “You’re mine. Don’t fucking forget it ever again. I’m going to fuck you limp.”

19 notes · View notes

kabira · 4 years ago

Text

05 | job hunting

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.9k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — so...you might have noticed some changes to the pairing. i’ve decided to go ahead and convert this to an x ofc fic because when it’s a 3rd person pov thing the ‘you’ pronoun kind of jumps out at you and it just sounds really unnatural lol. she’s been left race-ambiguous in the description, and she’s pretty cool, so i hope you like her !! even though she doesn’t show up very often djskalskjs

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Vernon stepped out into the open, finding himself on the highest level of the Helicarrier—not the top floor, but the deck itself.

The wind was strong, pushed by the rotator blades keeping the carrier in the air, and he shivered on feeling the sudden chill descend upon him. He hesitated, resting his palm against the side of one of the structures containing the blades, and glanced around. The aircraft was massive, big enough that despite being right next to the Quinjet runway, he couldn’t see any of the city beneath.

When he finally spotted White Tiger, she was sitting near the edge, mask in hand. At first, he was apprehensive about her being spotted, but when he got close enough, he realized they were way to high for anyone on the ground to be able to make out her features.

New York was easily a couple thousand feet below them, the tallest buildings looking like toy figurines from the high vantage point. The harbor glittered a dark blue-green underneath them, catching the dying light of the sunshine like little stars contained in the water. It was a breathtaking sight, so beautiful that it washed away Vernon’s initial fear as easily as a wave clearing away dug letters on a sandy beach.

He glanced at Yeji, pressing his teeth against his lower lip. She had her back to him, shoulders tensed—of course she would have heard him approach. Her hair was still up in a ponytail, but swayed lightly with the breeze. Even as he stood behind her, she said nothing, remaining silent and stony as she stared down at the view below.

“It’s nice up here,” he murmured. “Unless you have a crippling fear of heights, that is.”

Silence.

Vernon sighed to himself, slowly taking a seat next to her on the sun-heated deck, and pulled off his mask. The air was cool against his sweat-soaked skin, but did nothing to set his heart at ease. That was the hard part, one he had to figure out himself.

“So, White Tiger, huh?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as he looked at her sideways. Her chin rested on her folded forearms, which were balanced against her knees, legs crossed at the ankles. It should have been a relaxed posture, but her muscles were too tense, standing out like steel cables on her arms and sides. “Do your powers have anything to do with that jade amulet you wear?”

She unfolded herself, unconsciously touching the amulet that hung from one side of her gray belt. It was a vibrant green color, looking fragile like glass, but despite her generally offensive style of fighting, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. “It was my father’s,” she answered dully. “And my grandfather’s before him. The amulet is a family heirloom that passed down to me when the rest of my family died, and with it, the powers it bestows upon the bearer.”

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected her to speak, but she had opened up, despite the still guarded tone of her voice. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out at the view, feeling calmer than before, but also a lot more awkward. “Are you afraid of the water?”

She glanced over at him, a confused scowl on her face. “What?”

“The water,” he repeated, indicating the harbor with a tilt of his head. “Aren’t cats supposed to be scared of water or something?”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before he caught the glimmer of amusement in them. “I’m not a cat,” she said. “The amulet gives me the agility and tenacity of a white tiger, but not all its fears. Are you afraid of house lizards, spider boy?”

“Well, one in particular.” He half-smiled. “But he’s back to human now, so I guess not really.”

She gave him a small smile back, one that indicated she got the joke. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it made him feel a bit better—which was funny, since he was the one supposed to be comforting her. He recalled Luce’s words from their earlier conversation. There’s no harm in being decent.

“Look,” he started, reaching up to rub the side of his neck, “I’m sorry about what I said back there. You said you knew I didn’t like you guys, but that’s not true. It’s just—it’s a sudden change,” he mumbled. “To have a whole team of supers in the school, and so soon after the—incident, it just set me off.”

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head. “You probably don’t know what happened a few weeks ago, and what happened, it’s not your fault. Heck, it doesn’t even have anything to do with you.” He laughed weakly. “The incident that took place, it followed a regular pattern I already should have known. When superhero stuff and real life mix, nothing good comes out of it. I wasn’t prepared for you guys, and I took it badly. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Yeji hummed. For a few moments, they sat in silence, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. For Vernon, it felt good to get all of that off his chest. It was hard to admit to something because of his pride, but putting it out there made him feel a bit better. No one liked seeing their faults, but to him, it was better than hurting someone he didn’t really want to hurt. In a way, even the superheroes around him were innocent people who could become collateral damage.

“What incident?” she asked.

He glanced at her, a little confused. She stared back at him with her eyebrows arched, as if expecting him to say something. “Sorry, what?”

“I told you about my family, how I came to be in possession of my powers,” she said. “Your turn. What incident were you talking about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at her thoughtfully. “Do you know Harry Osborn?” he asked at length.

She nodded. “The Goblin—I mean, Norman Osborn’s son.” She gave him a curious look. “Wasn’t he at Midtown with you?”

“Yeah.” He looked away again, studying the lenses of his mask. Speaking about it was difficult, and he wasn’t too sure about instantly opening up about such a horrific incident to someone he had met two days ago, but his instinct told him he could trust White Tiger. Either way, there was no harm in talking about that day, at least not the general aspects of it. “And you probably also know about how Norman Osborn was taken down.”

She nodded again, slower this time, looking thoughtful. “Wasn’t there a bargaining chip of some kind involved?” she asked. “Wait, sorry. I meant a human hostage.”

“Yeah,” Vernon murmured. He hung his head, running his spandex-covered fingers over the cloth of his mask, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, but it hurt to do that, like there was a thorn stuck in his flesh. “Long story short, Harry Osborn…well.”

Yeji glanced at him in surprised concern, and he looked away, avoiding her gaze. Now would come the pitying glance, the awkward condolences, the unsure silence. He had had enough of that in the past few weeks.

“I get it,” she said, to his immense surprise. When he looked back at her, her eyes were sad, but there was a firmness beneath them, like stable ground at the bottom of the river. Even if she didn’t quite know all the details, they both spoke the language of loss, and it didn’t need words to be understood.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said.

“I won’t.” She turned her face away, towards the sky, and he followed suit. The silence this time was more than comfortable, it was comforting. “No more details?”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Not yet,” he replied. “You have to get past level twenty first.”

She snorted a laugh. “I don’t really play video games,” she answered. “It’s a little difficult to fit in when you live in the same quarters as a couple of teenage boys, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“Really? You can drop by after school sometimes and I’ll show you.” He grinned, then grimaced. “Or maybe Aunt May can. I’m not the best at them, she kicks my butt on Night game night every time.”

“She sounds amazing already. I can’t wait to meet her,” Yeji said, smiling. “And while we’re on the subject of family—argh, I’m totally going to sound like Agent Fox, but here’s the thing.” She shifted her weight, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. “I know it’s hard to deal with loss, and that it’s different for everybody, but protectors feel guilt on a different level than everybody else—and you can’t carry that kind of weight around with you.”

Vernon picked at a small cut on the leg of his costume. “Agent Fox,” he repeated. “You too, huh?”

Yeji winced. “Therapists aren’t really equipped to deal with our kind of experiences,” she said. “I mean, what do you say to someone who had to physically fight their best friend’s dad because he turned into a genetically enhanced green monster?”

He laughed.

“Agent Fox might not be your best bet, but there are other things you can try,” she continued. “I know you probably don’t want some kind of preachy advice, but for me, being White Tiger helped.” She ran her fingers along the grooves of her amulet again, as if deriving comfort through its touch. “Doing something, even little things that just keep your mind off the past, it helps.”

He thought back to Luce’s words. “Like getting a job?”

Yeji frowned. “I guess,” she said. “If it doesn’t take over your time as Spider-Man, that is.”

“That’s twice in a day someone’s advised me to get a job,” he said. “Maybe I really should go ahead and get one.”

“Maybe you should,” she agreed. “But I have a feeling most normal jobs won’t interest you. If you’re going to work, might as well work on something you’ll enjoy.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, the gears of his brain already having been kicked into action. “I think I already have something in mind.”

The last time Vernon had met Dr. Curt Connors, it had been as Spider-Man.

It was not an experience he had particularly enjoyed, since it had been one of his bigger fights had had left him with a hairline fracture and a few bruised ribs, holed up in his room for a week to nurse himself. Gym had been worse than usual that Tuesday.

As he pushed through the revolving doors at the entrance of Roxxon Industries, he was already beginning to regret his decision a little bit. Sure, there was no way that Dr. Connors could know his secret alter ego, but the knowledge didn’t help his nervousness one bit.

Plus, with Oscorp pretty much in ruins, the research scientist had shifted his work to a different corporation, and Vernon didn’t know his way around the new building at all. It was a tiny thing to be so worried about, especially for a person who had faced Doc Ock at the age of sixteen, but even the little things seemed big now that he was out job hunting.

Vernon clutched his father’s briefcase tighter, taking his visitor’s pass from the front desk and heading up the escalator to the designated room. Dr. Connors had met Vernon Parker exactly once before, when the latter had shown up at his old laboratory asking about his father, Richard Parker, Connors’s former colleague.

Back then, their conversation had been cut short by a Spidey emergency, and after that the only time he’d been able to see the doctor was while battling him as the Lizard. Vernon had been too afraid to go back afterwards, scared of the decades old formula Connors had developed which turned him into the monster, and what he might discover about his father’s work.

But Dr. Connors had made him a proposal that the boy remembered three months later—that Vernon was always welcome to come work at his lab. Now, the idea of being a simple research assistant didn’t sound very great, especially when the project was so controversial that its funding had been hanging by a thread even at Oscorp, where they weren’t exactly known for their safe experiments. However, biophysics had always been fascinating to him, not to mention the fact that it was his father’s legacy.

He guessed it was about time he went back to claim it.

Vernon stood in front of the door awkwardly, unsure what he was going to say. But he lifted his hand, and he knocked.

“Come in,” came the doctor’s voice from behind the door, and Vernon took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The room was bigger than he had expected it to be. It definitely wasn’t just an office, with multiple tables and various small instruments and charts held down by random objects acting as paper weights spread across them. Tall shelves lined the wall behind the main desk and the one opposite it, stuffed with old and new volumes. The doctor’s table itself was pushed into a corner to make way for everything else, but despite the packed space, everything was organized. It was a pattern Vernon knew from his own room: order in chaos.

Dr. Connors was standing behind his desk, reading through a paper on a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as Vernon entered, and a range of emotions flashed through his eyes when he saw him—first confusion, then recognition, then fear, then guilt. Finally, the doctor smiled, straightening as he placed the board back on his table.

“Vernon,” he said, and Vernon felt a thrill upon seeing that he remembered his name. “A face I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Vernon tried to press his lips into a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “I would have come by earlier, but what with midterms and everything happening in the city…” He hesitated. “I was just a little afraid, I guess.”

“I understand,” Dr. Connors said, and it wasn’t just an empty phrase, like he actually understood Vernon’s fear of facing his father’s past. But then, maybe he did. “I would have liked to see you again after our conversation was cut short, but perhaps a few months’ lapse in between was necessary.”

Vernon thought back to the Lizard incident a couple of months ago, when Dr. Connors had injected himself with an underdeveloped serum, turning himself into a giant lizard. “I read your recent article on the lizard formula,” he said slowly.

The doctor’s hand froze on the table for a moment, but relaxed just as quickly. He looked up at Vernon with a gentle sort of intelligence in his eyes, a look so different from the Lizard’s that he had trouble believing they could be the same person. “Did you, now?” he asked. “And what did you think of it?”

“Genius,” he breathed, and Dr. Connors’s eyes lit up even more. “I looked through my dad’s old papers, and cross-checked the changes with your research.” He opened his mouth and closed it again. Better get this over with quickly. “I know this must seem abrupt, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Dr. Connors inclined his head, gesturing at a seat with his good arm. The other one ended up to just above the elbow—a sight that reminded Vernon that it was the doctor himself who had been the first human trial for his cross-species grafting formula.

“The last time we met, you asked me to come work with you in your lab,” Vernon spoke slowly, hesitating between words. “And when I read your paper, I saw that you would continue to research further on the gene splicing and the, uh, the blood-brain barrier and—” He cut himself off, realizing that he had begun to ramble. “I was wondering, after last time, if you could—”

“Take you on in my lab for the research?” Dr. Connors completed his question for him, positively beaming. “Of course! Your father was a genius, and you follow in his stead. It would be a great advantage to have you on the team.” His smile faltered a little. “And then, even after all these years, I owe him my life and its work,” he added in a lower voice. “I’d be glad to have you.”

“Really?” Vernon looked at him with rounded eyes, clutching the case tightly enough that the skin of his knuckles paled. “I—wow. Thanks, Dr. Connors.”

Dr. Connors shook his head. “There will always be a place for Richard Parker’s son at my lab,” he said. “If you’re free, I could show you around the lab now, just so you get the feel of the place. Unless, of course, you’re busy right now, in which case you could swing by later.”

Vernon laughed, relieved and gratified and ridiculously happy. “I have all the time in the world.”

“Great,” Dr. Connors said. “When can you start?”

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glenncoco4 · 4 years ago

Text

War Zone Ch. 6

A/N: Part of this story may sound familar to you guys. 😂

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present

He steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered, as he pulls the towel off his head, his jaw immediately dropping at the sight before him. Standing across the room in a figure hugging black dress that excentuates her bump and her larger breast is his gorgeous wife. “Wow, maybe we should just order in and…do stuff.”

She can’t help the implication at his words as he comes up behind her, his lips immediately finding the hollow of her neck. “There’ll be plenty of time for that tonight but we have to go.”

He sighs, his chin finding its place on her shoulder as his eyes lock with hers in the mirror.“Seriously, who gets married on New Years?”

“I tried to talk her out of it, but she’s just as stubborn as I am.”

“You Blye women always get your way.”

Her eyes light up, as she turns around in his arms, her semi-protruding belly pressed between them. She leans in, closing the distance between their lips unable to wipe the smile off her face. “Yes. Yes we do.”

XXXX

December 31, 2008

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The Chief Petty Officer’s smile quickly fades as her team celebrates around her. Being separated from her husband for over 3 weeks now is effecting her in a way that she didn’t see coming. Stepping out of the tent, Kensi makes her way over towards her bunker, the sinking feeling of not being with him starts taking over. 2 weeks after the explosion she was sent back into the field. Marty had also gotten his new assignment, sadly in Kuwait, so they had 14 days really to take in that newly wedded bliss before coming back to the hot desert, but even then, those days were spent recovering from their injuries.

She steps into the dark room, only the generator light a few yards away projecting enough light to illuminate the entrance and a bag that wasn’t there before. The air around her makes the blood immediately drain from her face...she’s not alone. Her hand finds the gun in her waistband as she slowly draws it out, keeping her eyes focused as her other hand reaches for the lamp switch.

As the small light illuminates the room, her goes wide as the door shuts behind her. Sitting at her desk chair, facing her is that golden mop of hair with the grin that she’s missed so much spread across his face.

“Kinky.”

She’s at a loss for words, but that doesn’t stop her from sitting her gun on the table and launching herself towards him, her lips smashing into his.“What are you doing here?”

He pulls back just enough to get a full glimpse of those mismatched chocolate orbs that he’s missed so much. God he loves her. “I just got my new assignment.”

“And?”

“I’ll be following team 2.”

A mixture of shock and disbelief crosses her features, afraid that this is all a dream she can’t help but ask anyway.“Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently there’s this really badass, up and coming Chief Petty Officer that my boss wants to do a story on.”

Standing up from her place on his lap, she walks towards the door, making sure it’s locked and secure before turning around, her eyes focused solely on him as she begins to shed her clothes. “Lucky for you I have the inside scoop.”

He’s unable to wipe the grin from his face as she closes the distance between them once again, this time straddling his lap as his cock throbs with desire.“Lucky me.”

XXXX

Present

Their bodies sway with the music as they make their way across the makeshift dance floor. His lips find the crown of her head just as a breeze comes in off the Pacific, introducing an intoxicating scent of lavender and ocean air to his nose.

She’s been waiting for them to get a moment alone together tonight, what with Talia, Sam and the rest of their family running around, interrupting them at any giving moment. Noticing that they’re all preoccupied at the moment, Kensi finally sees her chance. “So I have some news.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I was just talking to Sam’s friend Noah’s partner, she’s a Producer for this new crime show that’s being developed and they’re looking for a double/stunt person for one of the main characters.”

“And she asked you?”

She tilts her head back, her eyes locking with his, unable to stop the tears in her eyes at the hopefulness in his cerulean blues. Always so damn supportive. “Sam told her about me and how I have all the right training and looking for a new career to start after the baby comes, since I retired.”

“You told her yes, right?”

“I told her yes.”

He hugs her tight, as much as her protruding belly will let him and lifts her up. “Kens, that’s amazing!”

XXXX

January 1, 2009 - Early Morning

They both let out one more moan before he roles over onto his side, both trying to catch their breath.“So you never told me.”

“Never told you what?” The small light coming from the lamp in the corner, illuminating her curious chocolate orbs.

“If you weren’t a SEAL, what would you want to do?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

He nods, as he props his head against his hand. His attention solely focused on his wife. Honestly he’s not sure what to expect to come out of her mouth but he knows its gonna be good whatever it is.

Mimicking his position, Kensi props her head against her hand, nervously biting her lip. She’s about to reveal something to him that she’s never told anyone before. The deep seeded issues she’s had from previous relationships has been weighing on her from the start of her relationship with her husband, but she has to remember that he’s different, in every aspect...he’s different. “I think I’d like to do stunt work for television and maybe film.”

“I could totally see you doing that.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. There’s no doubt in my mind that there isn’t anything that you can’t do.”

The excitement that’s shining in his cerulean blues, makes unfamiliar emotions starts to make themselves known. They’ve been together for almost a year and in that year he’s never made her feel like she doesn’t deserve all the love in the world, to be someone’s favorite person.“Stop.”

His brow furrows, confused at her reaction. “Stop, what?”

“Stop saying those things. I’m already in enough emotional distress as it is.”

Shaking his head, he brings his free hand across her naked waist, pulling her into him. He crashes his lips against hers, earning a moan from her lips. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, baby. I will never not support you. I wanna know every thing about you.”

Her lips find his once more, smiling at his words. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What would you do if you weren’t an investigative photographer?”

“I think I’d like to be a gigolo.”

She can’t hold back the cackle of laughter at his choice, even though she knows he’s just messing with her. “For real.”

“Okay, fine, a hand model.”

“Baby, seriously.”

“Seriously?” His brow furrows, as his brain processes the question. He’s never really thought about being anything else but one idea does come to mind. “I think I’d like to be a teacher, you know, mold young minds. Maybe teach kids that there’s more of the world for them to see and how doing it through a lens magnifies just how intricate and special life around us is.”

She can’t help but be mesmerized by his words, the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about something important, just one of the reasons why she fell in love with him.

Marty is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the dream filled gaze that his wife is giving him.“What?”

Shaking her head in awe, her nails find the scruff of his jaw as she gets lost in his eyes thinking about their future.“You’re gonna make a great dad one day.”

His throat goes dry at her words. He’s never really talked about his father, but she knows it wasn’t the best and the fact that those words left her lips means everything to him.“You have no idea how much that means to hear you say that.”

A playful spark shines in her eyes along with a smirk starting to curl at her lips. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

He nods his head, unable to stop the smile from spreading to his face. The look on her face does things to him that nothing ever has before. Quickly making his desire into action, he flips her on her back, straddling her. “Yes, and you’re the father.”

“I thought you said you were on the pill?”

“Yeah, Flintstone vitamins.” The same spark is in her eye as she lets out a belly laugh before her hand reaches for his neck, pulling him towards her. His lips meet hers hungrily as round 2 quickly begins.

XXXX

Present

The band continues to play a soft melody as the party starts to die down, she’s wrapped in his arms, relishing in this content moment with her husband. The cool ocean breeze coming off the Pacific sends her in a trance, thinking about their future and the little bean growing inside her. Being able to go through all of this with her best friend is something she never imagined until she met him. Tilting her head back, she smiles as her eyes meet his.

“You look like you could use a nice long soak in a jacuzzi tub.”

“To bad we don’t have one at home.”

A knowing grin spreads to his lips. “Yeah, but the one in our hotel room does.”

“What did you do?”

“I may have booked us a room at the hotel next door.”

She can feel the heat pool in her belly as the look of unadulterated love shines in his eyes. “What are we still doing here?”

He can feel the warmth spread through his body as he watches her eyes grow a shade darker. Quickly taking hold of her hand, he pulls her along as they make a quick exit from the crowd, hurriedly making their way out of the reception.

XXXX

She laughs as her husband tries to maneuver them through the doorway, adamant that he carries across the threshold her bridal style. “Baby, I’m too heavy, put me down.”

He shakes his head, as he carries her into the room and towards their king size bed. “You, my beautiful wife are not heavy.” Gently sitting her down, his lips find hers as his hand cups her jaw. “Besides, what happens if you go into labor and can’t walk? I need to build up my strength.”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to walk?”

“I don’t know.”

Taking is short answer for what it his, Kensi pulls at his tie, coaxing him towards her. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” His words are followed by action, as his hand makes its way under the hem of her dress. She moans against his lips in appreciation before he pulls back, his eyes staring at her with reverence and all consuming love. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

“I mean I guess it would really depend. If it’s to hurt you, definitely not. If its to make you laugh, abso-“

She smiles as he continues to babble, no matter how much she denies it, listening to him just talk and talk is probably one of the most soothing things to her. But right now she really needs his hand to continue to do what it was doing along with his mouth. “Marty?”

“Huh?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“You’re the boss.” His hand makes its way further under the hem of her dress, as his fingers inch their way up her thigh and come into contact with soaked lace.

He pushes the material to the side, his fingers finding her wet folds, making her scream out in pleasure. “Marty!”

One thing that he knows will never get old is this...his beautiful wife screaming out his name, writhing beneath his touch. His tongue fights hers as her hand works its way beneath his briefs and finds his throbbing cock. “God, Kens.”

“Baby, more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Quickly standing up from the bed, he strips his pants and boxers from his body with no time to remove his shirt before she’s hiking her dress around her waist and on all fours in front of him, flaunting her wet folds.

As she situates herself on the pillows, he pumps his cock a few times before coming up behind her and sliding his hard member into her creamy, wet opening.

They both moan out in ecstasy as he pounds into her over and over again, the feeling of every bump and groove of his cock sliding against her in all the right places. It only takes a minute before they’re both creeping over the edge, screaming out the other’s name. They’re sent into oblivion as she matches his even faster pace before letting out one final moan.

Slowly pulling out of her, he finds his place next to her on the bed where she’s now laying flat on her back, panting as she tries to catch her breath. “Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, Princess.” He turns his head, mesmerized by the glow of her skin and...her, before scooting in closer, bringing his lips to hers.

Her head finds his chest, the cotton of his dress shirt dampened by their latest activities. She starts toying with a button, lost in thought at the officality of this year and all it will bring. “Can you believe that time next year, there’ll be three of us?”

He places a kiss to the top of her head unable to hide the smile on his face. “Pretty great huh?”

“Yeah, but you know what else would be pretty great?” She tilts her head back, locking eyes with him knowing that he can already read her thoughts.

“Bubble bath and cheesecake for two?”

She doesn’t respond, instead she takes action. Slowly standing up off the bed, she pulls her sun dress up and over her head, revealing her very much larger breast to her husband. His eyes immediately going wide as she sensually walks towards the bathroom where their next adventure awaits. “Don’t forget the cheesecake.”

#Densi #Densi AU #Kensi Blye Deeks #Marty Deeks #War Zone #NCIS: LA #AU

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jungkookiebus · 5 years ago

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Hellblazer 2.5 | jjk

Genre: demon!au Pairing: demon!Jungkook x FemConstantine!reader Word Count: 2.6k Rating: PG Summary: Now that the true identity of the new Prince of Hell has been revealed to you, you are left back on Earth, wandering aimlessly through life hungry for another taste of him while being repulsed by his memory. You find your health failing and in one last attempt for help, you drag yourself to the Vatican only to find yourself falling deeper into the darkness surrounding you. Ever so slowly, you’re slipping towards a death you didn’t think would come so soon. Author’s Note: I hope you guys still find this interesting. I guess this can be seen as “filler” to progress their relationship, but I find it really starts to expose true feelings here. More to come!

Sluggish. Languorous. Torpid. Stagnant. Those four words and more were how you would describe your life right now. It had been three months since your last encounter with him. You had woken up in your bed just as before; sore and almost lifeless. Before, he haunted your dreams. Now, he was all you wanted and your worst nightmare. You felt pushed and pulled in two directions.

Lost.

Utterly lost.

You were seeing him more and more, standing under the massive altar in the Basilica, sitting at the same table at the coffee shop, just around the corner in the bookstore, and basking in the sun at Trevi Fountain. The few people you knew, because you didn’t have any friends, were noticing your declining health. You became withdrawn and idle. Just living each day, sometimes eating, getting out of bed when needed, and spending less time outdoors as the months rolled on.

Even the Pope came to see you, worried about your health. At first, you felt good knowing someone cared but then you reminded yourself he only liked you for information. His visit didn’t go quite as he had planned when the thought dawned on you and you cursed at him, demanding he get the fuck out of your house.

You had never planned on staying in Rome this long. Yes, it was the hub of your line of work, but you didn’t want to be here, yet you felt tied. You felt as if you left then you’d never see him again, but then again, you didn’t want to see him. Not really.

You were starving, but not for food. If you had a soul it would probably yearn. This was a different kind of pain; something deeply rooted into your heart. Your body was lacking something, and you weren’t sure what.

When you were ready to throw yourself off the nearest cliff, you trudged reluctantly in the direction of the Vatican. Your limbs felt like they were filled with sand. People gave you strange looks as they passed. You knew you hadn’t brushed your hair in a hot second nor had you really been concerned about your personal well-being either. The closer you got, the worse you felt. You found yourself stopping and leaning against a wall more than once trying to catch your breath. It felt as if you had been running when you could barely walk. By the time you got to the Vatican Obelisk, you were stumbling, struggling to stay upright. A Swiss guard recognized you despite your unkempt appearance and rushed over immediately, calling out for assistance.

The bright summer sun, a flash of pink, and what you had thought was him were the last things you saw before you succumbed to that falling feeling. Peace. Finally, you were able to rest.

When you awoke again, your limbs were just as heavy if not heavier. You heard the faint beep of a machine and the whir of air conditioning, but beyond that was silent. Your eyelids felt as if they had weights on them as you struggled to open them. Finally, you were able to peer into the semi-darkness. Blinking a few times, you slowly scanned the room. It was very nicely decorated, with a fireplace, and your guess was confirmed when you saw the framed picture of the Virgin Mary. An IV stand was next to you and you followed the tube of fluids to your arm. Wiggling your fingers a little, you made sure you weren’t paralyzed for some reason. As if by divine intervention, a nurse came scooting in backwards with a cart. You watched as she blissfully hummed and then turned towards you, jumping back in surprise as you looked at her.

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart. She moved closer to the bed, first looking at the machines, and then back at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

You nodded. Your throat was so dry you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything.

“Let me get you some water!”

She turned away again and to a pitcher that was sitting on a table, filled a glass of water, and made her way back to you. She held the glass to your lips as she held a cloth under your chin. You drank gratefully and sighed as the cool water soothed your throat.

“What happened?” you finally asked once you were able to speak properly.

“The guards saw you stumbling around outside. You collapsed right in a crowd of people!” She threw her hands up excitedly as she recounted the story to you. The Pope had insisted you stay in the ”house of the Lord” in case what was happening to you was “demonic” in nature.

He knew better.

“How long?”

“Oh, let’s see,” she paused. “About a week and a few days now.”

No wonder you felt as if your muscles hadn’t been used in a million years. You still felt just as bad, if not worse than before. Before you knew it, you were slipping slowly. You wanted to stay awake, you feared falling asleep again, but your body was giving up. Slowly, darkness overtook you.

When you awoke again, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You half expected a paralysis demon to be perched atop you when you were finally able to open your eyes.

The room you were in was the same, but this time there were more machines. You looked down to see that your hair had grown a considerable amount. Panic washed through your body and you heard the rapid beat of the machine as your heart sped. A small alarm sounded as your blood pressure rose. You were being thrown headlong into a full blown panic attack. The same nurse as before came rushing into the room and was at your side, checking the readout on the machine, and then reached into a small refrigerator for a glass bottle. She pulled the cap off a syringe, pulled the liquid into it, and then pushed it into your IV line. Your body immediately relaxed. She held her hand on your forehead as she grabbed her stethoscope. After she determined that you were okay, she laid a hand over yours.

“He wants to talk to you. I’ll be right back.”

What? You had just woken up after god knows how long and she’s worried about someone wanting to talk to you? You were so thirsty.

The Pope came rushing through the door, dressed casually, and looking both distressed and surprised.

“____!” he exclaimed as he rushed to your bedside. “It’s been months.”

Months? Surely…not?

He turned his head to where you couldn’t see his face, but you saw the look of surprise on the nurse’s face as she nodded and then left the room. He turned back to you; concern written in his features.

“____,” he began again, as he pulled a chair to your bedside. “When did you meet him?”

Your brows knitted. You had already told him when you met the new Prince of Hell.

“The Archangel. God’s general.”

Your blood ran cold. How did he know?

“You have the sigil,” he said reaching out just a little, “behind your ear.”

For fuck’s sake. You were getting peed on by everybody in Hell. You wet your lips a little. Or tried to. Realizing that your mouth was probably dryer dirt, he grabbed the pitcher. Funny, one of your last memories was almost this exact same situation months ago. Once again, you were fumbling with your voice, having not used it for some time. He sat patiently as your mouth moved robotically. You were frustrated that you couldn’t just spit it out and you felt helpless as you lay there with your overly heavy limbs.

“He fell,” you finally croaked.

“What?” He didn’t believe you.

“The demons. In Rome.”

You saw him piecing things together with your minimal words. He had warned you that things were happening in Rome.

“You mean…,” he trailed off in disbelief.

“War.”

It wasn’t a secret that there was a war in Heaven before when Lucifer fell. You had met a few demons that fell with him, recounting the day in vivid detail to you. Now there was going to be another one. God’s greatest ally had betrayed him.

“But then…” He glanced towards the spot behind your ear. “Those are meant for protection.”

You half shrugged. You weren’t about to admit to him what had happened…twice.

“Get your rest, _____.” He patted the back of your hand, stood, and left from the room without so much as a backwards glance.

The Pope stood before the statue of the Archangel taking down Lucifer with his golden spear. His heart was tight in his chest as he prayed.

“Dear God,” he was at a loss for words as he gazed above him. His voice echoed in the cavernous expanse.

A low, menacing laugh filled the space as soon as his voice died out. The darkness suppressed around him and fear filled his heart. He clutched to the rosary in his hand as he turned around. The laugh seemed to be coming from every direction, bouncing off the walls, and doubling back in on itself. This type of darkness was one that he felt deep inside of him.

“There’s no point in that,” he heard whispered amongst the laughs that were slowly dying out.

Out of the darkness and through the pews of one of the service areas walked a man, dressed darkly, and even darker than the murkiness around him. The candles that had been lit on the altar went out one by one. A heat filled the basilica that had him sweating under his night robes. A smell so pungent that he recoiled filled his nose and it was soon replaced by the sickly sweet smell of roses.

He emerged into the dimly lit expanse of the area before the main altar and he was able to see his glowing eyes and pale skin contrasting against his black suit. His hands were clasped behind him as he walked slowly. His footsteps didn’t make a sound. His smile was malevolent. As he approached closer and closer, he began to faintly smell burnt wood. By the time he was within feet of him, it was as if someone had snuffed out the fire in a fireplace. The smoky smell filled the area and assaulted his senses. A usually comforting scent was now going to be reminiscent of this new fear he felt.

“Where is she?” he asked, leaning in close.

He saw the sigil on his lapel as it caught the light.

“A-are you…?” he stammered.

“You know exactly who I am. Now, answer my question, Your Holiness.”

He stared into his dark eyes and saw nothing there. Only emptiness.

“I’m not giving her to you.” He held onto his rosary tighter as he willed himself to be brave in the face of evil.

His smile spread, but then suddenly turned down at the corners. He could see where he was once beautiful, but now he was beautiful in a terrible way.

“If you want her to live, you will.”

He was shaking as he held out the hand that clutched the rosary. The Prince looked down at it in disgust before speaking again.

“Your trinkets won’t do anything to me.”

“Why do you want her?”

“She belongs to me.”

“Your sigil is meant to protect. What are you doing to her?”

He sighed as he brought his hands in front of him, intertwining his fingers and holding them to his lips. The Pope saw the tattoos that you had mentioned, and it further confirmed his fears.

“The real question is, what are you doing to her?”

He suddenly became defensive in the face of the Prince.

“I have been protecting her and keeping her alive for these last few months.”

“Have you, though?”

“Quit talking in circles, demon!” He was red faced now, utterly angry. He was angry that a Prince of Hell was here on hallowed ground and he was angry that he seemed to think he had some claim over you.

“This space you feel like you’ve created for her to heal is killing her,” he said simply.

You had no soul. Heaven couldn’t protect you and now that it was weaker, they would be no closer to doing so.

“The sigil…”

“She’s dying on holy ground. If I take her, she won’t.”

The Pope was torn. What he said made sense, but what if he were lying? He had no reason to tell the truth. But why would he want you?

He slowly removed the brooch from his lapel and suspended it in the air between them, but the Pope refused to reach out and take it.

“I promise you protection. On my word.”

“I don’t make deals with devils,” he said snidely.

“It’s in your best interest to do that now. There’s going to be a war soon and Earth will suffer just as many consequences. You’ll want to find yourself on the right side.”

The Pope walked briskly down the carpeted hallway with the Prince walking closely behind. None of the guards were around as they turned corners and he knew it was his doing. When they reached the door to your room, he looked back at him tentatively. He seemed eager for him to open the door. He pushed it open, stepping inside, and to the side. He watched closely as he crossed the room and to your bedside. You were asleep, laid back amongst the pillows, and looking as frail and drawn as ever.

“How could you let this go on for this long?” he asked as he undid the IV at your arm.

The Pope was frozen to the spot as he watched him quickly detach you from any and all machines, alarms going off left and right. The nurse came running down the hall in her robe. He held out his arm in front of her as she crossed the threshold and froze to watch the scene in front of her.

He was lifting you from the bed gingerly. You had lost so much weight that you were very easy to carry. He turned with you in his arms, curled against his chest, and the Pope saw a shadow of who he once was. His expression was soft, yet worried, giving him a glance at the Archangel he used to pray to.

“You have my protection,” he said before seeming to disappear into thin air. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving the Pope and nurse dumbfounded.

The next time you awoke, you felt lighter. Your breathing came easier and your mouth didn’t feel as if it were on fire. The pain in your head was starting to subside and overall, you felt as if you might survive whatever was wrong with you. You moved your fingers over the sheets beneath you and felt an all too familiar silkiness. Your heart raced with both fear and some unfound excitement. Slowly, you opened your eyes and you were met with the same grey stillness of the bedroom that haunted your dreams. You were afraid to move but you desperately needed to see if you imagined the presence behind you. You quietly and gently as possible turned your head.

He looked so peaceful.

Fast asleep, mouth slightly agape, he laid beside you, hand rested on the pillow. He had saved your life, but that was only because he had marked you. You hadn’t asked for this, but you were starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was what you wanted all along.

#bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #demon!au #demon!jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert #femconstantine!reader #constantine!au #constantine x bts crossover #bts #hellblazer #hellblazer 2.5 #nonidol!au

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dreamyaqua · 4 years ago

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Helloooo~!! I'm the same person who talked about Hyunjae and Haknyeon's rising signs! When I first wrote it, I wasn't deep into astrology yet. I've researched and tried to learn more about the Greek gods, the mythology, planets and associations to better my understanding. So, this time, I present all 23 members of NCT. To form an opinion on this, I watched their personal variety on their YT channel, took note of their physical habits and appearance, and read first impression stories. (1)

Also, don't worry about answering this right away! I just got very excited and wanted to share this :DD we currently have 5 members with confirmed risings; Johnny, Taeyong, Kun, Doyoung and Jaehyun. That's 18 members left, still! Also, I relied much more on their first impressions of each other as well as their appearance, habits and their neutral face because idols put up an act, which is enforced by their company. I'm running out of words so– (2)

(I decided to put the rest under a cut as the ask has gotten really long and I also put your asks together in regards to each member, I hope that’s okay!^^)

First up, Taeil! My first guesses for him were Scorpio (ruled out immediately lol), Capricorn and Taurus. I went with Capricorn at the end. Taeil just has a home-y, fatherly aura which Earth signs have. According to the members, he has that strong vibe that makes you want to learn from him. And we know that Capricorn is ruled by law and structure loving planet, Saturn. Saturn is associated with Cronus and Hestia. (3) Hestia is peace and home while Cronus was briefly the ruler of all. So, in short, a parent. Taeil as NCT's grandpa is accepted by many czennies. Which fits well. A typical Capricorn rising could have a petite stature as well as a wide-ish body type. Earth risings do tend to be stocky. Lips are usually either thin and wide or round but when they smile it's bright and feels familiar. It all starts from home~ Next up, Yuta! (4)

Yuta? Scorpio rising. I did try to see if he fits anywhere else but landed right back to Scorpio. One main reason, when he smiles, it's real. His healing and genuine smile is definitely a Scorpio rising trait. He's also pretty quiet in general but can get wild *insert clip of Yuta and Taeyong's chair race* and maybe even stir things up. Scorpio is associated with, Hades. Hades is generally a warm soul unlike his gruesome depictions. He's just a peaceful yet lonely guy. When he loves he LOVES (5) Traits seen in our double Scorpio royalty, Yuta. Winwin, Mark, Shotaro and Jungwoo is his Kore and Cerberus (you decide who's who).

Easy tackle, now we've got Ten! Your local cat mom. As I say that, I guess Leo. Leo risings have feline features and traits, which Ten definitely has. When you watch his relay cam, his day's pretty chill and made more fun by his cats. They're just positive morning people and Ten really has that effect. Leo is associated with Apollo and Heracles (and more). (6) Apollo's a talented man (if you read Lore Olympus, I just hope you don't associate those characters with the actual deities) and so is Heracles. What do they have in common with Ten? Well, both Apollo and Ten are artistic, gifted with languages, and talented in music. With Heracles? Well, we know he's a hero, an ace. Leo is also the sun. The core of our system. We can definitely agree on Ten being NCT's talented ace, which all supports my guess of him as a Leo rising. Next, Winwin.

My first guesses for Winwin were either an Aries or Leo rising. Though, at the end, I settled for Aries. The entirety of NCT is in love (obviously, exaggerated) with Winwin, and fire signs naturally have that magnetism. Aries rules the head area, and one frequent habit of Winwin's is scratching his head. He also tends to put his head forward (called a nerd neck, due to book reading) which is typical of an Aries rising. He also appeals with his eyes when he wants something, also very Aries. Winwin as an Aries rising just feels true and self-explanatory.

Next on our list is Jungwoo. A total Slytherin. Be a fool and fall for them, I dare you–oh never mind, you already have. Safe to say that Jungwoo is a Libra rising. Libra is Aphrodite afterthewholebeingbornoutofcastratedtesticlesthenformedfromseafoamshenanigans. We all know that Librans are pretty people. So pretty it's sickening, I'm getting too personal now. BACK ON TOPIC. I also had the thought of him being a Leo– I mean, if you've seen NCT World, Jungwoo definitely shone. Leos and Libras are similar in my opinion so it could be why I'm so unsure about it. Not many know but Aphrodite is a war goddess. Her role is very watered down, maybe because war was just not sexy to the Ancient Greeks. Still, Aphrodite conquered hearts, and Jungwoo has that main stage. Life is like a runway, especially with the way he walks. He also loves connections and making people laugh, both an Aphrodite and Apollo trait. Reason why I settled for Libra is that the first impressions of Jungwoo is that he looks serious, radiated sophistication but also wild. Aphrodite, being a magnetic and adventurous (iykwim) mad lad, has a definite influence on Jungwoo.

The next member is Lucas (12 more to go!). Lucas tries his best to make people happy. He loves seeing people be happy. And seeing how he says sorry when things don't seem to be exciting or done his usual way, I'm convinced he's a Libra rising.

I've written notes down but I have school so I'll complete this after LMAO

Back (new classes today so I'm hnghh). Okay, Mark! I believe he's where I left off. Mark is an Aries rising opinion. Also, while trying to hunt for their birth times, I stumbled upon someone saying Mark's birth time is 10:34pm. I tried it and it was Aries rising! Some habits that Mark does that's total Aries; touchy, laughs a lot, swears more than most, loud personality. He also has the Aries t-zone. His lovely gullbrows~

Next, Xiaojun. I was honestly stuck on him until I watched a fancam of him walking to the airport. His steps seem very grounded. Possibly, Taurus. I also thought he was a Scorpio and Leo but with the way Xiaojun gets defensive doesn't feel very water or fire (Aries is an exception). Xiaojun also enjoys food and cooking. He finds comfort in work, likes the easy way better, he's also quite practical. He's also hardworking. Probably either finishes homework the day it gets handed or when he's stressed. No in between. (I erased everything, I wrote by accident...)

Hendery has the Air sign look and also the Earth sign vibe but in the end, I settled for Sagittarius. Why? Well, Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter (Zeus) and we all know that Zeus can get impulsive. Hendery seems to be so. Sag is also associated Dionysus, the stereotypical wild "people love people" drunk. Which Hendery also seems to be so. That's all for him. Next up Renjun.

Renjun has a habit of scratching or just touching his ear and head, his fight instinct is on 24/7, gets frustrated when something doesn't go right, very attentive when people tell stories, uses his whole body when laughs (stomping, throwing his neck back like it don't break). I guess he's either a Gemini, Pisces or Aries. The easily bored so they make chaos but also is helpful when needed trio, Hermes, Poseidon and Ares. Renjun just has a distinct style I can't pinpoint. No solid guess.

Dream's papa, Jeno. I believe he's a Capricorn rising. He just has that long faced, big nosed and intense eyes that Capricorn risings, from what I've observed, tend to have. I've also took up Libra and Taurus as other options but I went with Cap. Even if his go-to noises is confusion. I probably don't make 100% sense but I hope it's good enough. Anyway, Jeno has a potential to become a leader and Caps are great leaders. Not perfect but great. He also has some competitiveness in him.

7 more left! Haechan's turn! Haechan really does twist and turn people's heads. He could be a Gemini rising, mostly because he uses his hands whenever he talks, laughs, sing. He's also a trickster. Maybe Scorpio since he has that rbf and the presence that makes you quiver when you meet him in person. Another possibility is Aries, he's wild, impatient and banter skills are top notch. His silhouette either looks Arian or Scorpian. Face, Geminian or Arian. What do you think?

Next, Na Jaemin. Virgo rising. Jaemin knows how to smile, like he knows how to attract people with it, and we all know his smile is beautiful. He also has that motherly attitude towards his friends. A total introvert as well and is just calm (but can get naggy and fastidious). CEO at eye rolling, even if habitual and unintentional. GenZ Artemis.

Next, Yangyang. I'm dead sure on him being a Cancer. The way he walks is so baby? and my Cancer rising friends tend to do little skips and sometimes waddle. Whenever an opportunity arises, he takes it. He also enjoys comfort. These may be Taurus rising traits as well (they're similar in many ways) but when I watched ETC, Yangyang seems to have a protective side. A clingy side. So, I went with Cancer.

Shotaro is next! Always smiling, gentle voice, admires people and loves fun. Libra. A possibility is Aries. This is based on appearance. Arians tend to have weak chins (chins that don't stick out). He also has the "always look forward to tomorrow" vibe.

I-I don't remember who's next...

I suddenly forgot what I wrote before this. I should've planned this. SUNGCHAN. My Virgo buddy. When I first saw him his vibe screamed Virgo, he just had that short face Virgos tend to have. It's a mutable sign so it tends to get overpowered but every virgo I know has a short face despite being different ascendants. I was struggling figuring him out but I decided on Pisces. I'll be taking a stretch here. So descendant is how a person views the world. His being Virgo. Sungchan seems to look at the world as structured so he could feel the want to rebel. He seems to enjoy chaos but probably helps mediate the situation for the sake of doing so. My thoughts are slowly getting tangled.

CHENLE. Chenle's a virgo rising and mostly because his rbf is piercing. He always looks like he's observing and silently judging people. It makes more sense for him to be a Scorpio as well. Yes, he's bright and fun but Scorpios do have that side. Just more serious and a lot of roasting.

FINALLY THE MAKNAE. Jisung Park. Libra rising. He just likes peace but when he's chaotic, he'd want you to match his vibe. A balance, in a way. He also seems to get frustrated/stressed easily, gullible, awkward hands, and he's always quite pretty. Calming to look at. That's all. What do you think their signs are? I want hear your opinion :DD Also, I hope your exams went well!! You probably put in your 100% best so of course it did!!

First of all, thank you so much for your support! My exams actually went well and I’m so relieved I got it all over with for this semester.^^ And now, as you’ve already noticed in an ask I’ve answered earlier, I don’t cover NCT on this blog and therefore, I haven’t really given their rising signs much thought so far, so I’m not going to really have an opinion myself but I wanted to thank you so much for your hard work with all of this and for sharing it with us!! It was super interesting to read and I can only say that I think all of guesses make sense to me.

As a Leo rising myself, I felt super flattered while reading Ten’s paragraph - I’d feel super honoured to share my rising sign with him and I also feel like his energy is familiar to me, so I could totally believe that to be true!^^ And also, omg, I’d love for Yangyang to be a Cancer rising! I seem to attract Cancer risings left and right and he’s recently become one of my ults, so that would be great :’) (I’ll definitely start to analyze him more in the near future haha)

Oh, oh!! Btw, my close friend @jacksvnshine made a very in-depth analysis of Mark’s possible rising sign and she guessed him to be an Aries rising like you did! She’s so amazing at what she does and if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t know a thing about astrology. So I can highly recommend checking out her blog and I also really want to link her analysis for you here as you might find it interesting to read, and it’s exceptionally well made!^-^

I’m sorry that I can’t really give you my opinion on their rising signs, I haven’t studied them enough in that sense :( and I personally struggle with rising sign guesses because I always feel like I don’t know enough to make an “accurate” guess but oh well- a guess is a guess, we can never know for sure but my mind doesn’t really want to accept that. :’)

I truly enjoyed reading through your messages and guesses, thank you again for sharing this with us!! I’m sure there’ll be others who’ll find it interesting to read as well!^-^

#astro asks #rising signs #nct rising signs #wayv rising signs #wayv #nct #kpop astrology #nct astrology #wayv astrology #ask

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

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“R:B” CHAPTER 1 (Complete)

TRANSLATION & RAWS: NARU-KUN

The murderous wilderness was spreading.

The rugged terrain that both feet step on connects to the horizon beyond. There is nothing to block and the dry air caresses the skin. The blue night that stretched above his head was so deep that it reminded him of the jet black of the universe.

Desolate, vast space.

A casual, cold and lonely world.

However, something is refreshing. There are no shackles or ways of fastening. Everything is refreshing. It is formed by the power itself and only the will determines the future. Strict, tough, lazy, free.

So he ran as his heart commanded.

It didn't make sense, but there was no city, so he hurried.

The feeling of the hard earth is transmitted to the feet. It is the dry and dusty wind that makes the hair flutter. The exhaled breath is hot. Heat invades and overflows the body. It is painful. However, his face was broken. There was a type in which the mind and the body were elevated.

The meat moves, the bones are removed and the blood flow runs. The cells of the body are full of something fresh.

He moved his limbs with all his might and kicked the ground with all his might. He kept running all the way, forever. Still, the world is wide. Overwhelmingly broad. It was so high that he could see it, and it was deep to the bottom.

It is a reason.

When he realized it, his heart broke free. The tiny body and the vast world became one through the soul.

Will come here one day. He always thought so.

When he can he will come here. He has always expected it.

He simply cannot admit that there is no such place.

++++++++++

The intangible irritation was eroding Suoh Mikoto.

It's hot and humid, midnight in the middle of summer. Countless voices echoed out of nowhere in the alley where Suoh was.

Angry. Hoarsely. They scream. And the shot that goes through them.

However, the most striking sound is probably that of flames, which burns violently at night. When Suoh's team, “Homura”, sharpens their fangs, it is always the sound that flows on the battlefield. The dissonance of destruction echoed down the alley, transmitting the warmth of fighting spirit and madness.

Suoh takes out the cigarette as he walks, lights it, inhales it slowly into his lungs, and exhales.

The dissonance grew stronger toward the back of the alley.

What illuminates the area is the unreliable streetlight. However, at the destination, a creepy light reflects off the wall of the building and flickers. Fire and flame. If you look closely, you can see the traces of destruction on the nearby walls and on the ground.

The burning smell of fireproofs pierces the nose and gives heat, which is different from the sun during the day, the upper arm clings to the sword. Signs of intense violence. However, Suoh's expression doesn't budge. There is an obligatory atmosphere somewhere and he walks in silence.

Something was found in the darkness of the alley.

Is a person. The fallen man moved as he approached the corporal. Suoh's line of sight moves in a hurry.

Apparently he was weak. The well-tanned skin and deeply carved features are not Japanese. The clothes he was wearing were torn, and conspicuous burn marks were visible.

The man staggered, but when he noticed Suoh at his side, he shook his face.

"Hey."

He yelled briefly and pointed to the gun he was holding.

Suoh looks at whoever is pointing it with an uninteresting look. Smoke and exhale.

"...Get lost."

Low, thick and dry voice. Still, it is a mysterious bright voice.

On the other hand, when the man repositioned his gun with both hands, he repeated the shallow breathing.

A strong man, perhaps routine, who has come into contact with violence. But now, the man's eyes lacked calm judgment. All that remains, is a simple fear of irrational and mysterious things.

Suoh's lips, who had added a cigarette again, closed and distorted.

Just a few moves, "Ka".

Immediately afterward, the man fired while screaming.

A sharp shot explodes and the flame flickers. But almost at the same time, a light that far exceeded the fire swirled between the two.

It is not a flame, it is a high density mass of "power" in the form of a flame. The fired bullet was swallowed by the flame that suddenly appeared and disappeared with the flame. A momentary event. However, the living flame is etched in the mind of the viewer as a burn mark.

The man screamed loudly and threw his gun at him to escape. A monster, screaming in the alley. Suoh looked at the back of the fleeing man with his severed face. Then he inhales a lot and exhale.

Purple smoke spills into a windless alley and melts into the humid night air. Unknowingly, his eyes chased the smoke, and Suoh lifted his chin and looked up.

This area is an old commercial district. The multi-tenant buildings lined up have concrete walls that narrow the summer night sky. It appears to be at the bottom of the hole or even inside it.

From the alley where sound and heat are muddy as starch, only the fine purple smoke that is gracefully exhaled escapes into the clear sky. Suoh felt the irritation focus on the rest of his body.

Suoh waved the cigarette roughly, hit the soles with a step, and started walking again.

At the end of the alley.

Finally, the alley was cut and he went out into an open space. It is a warehouse built along the old street and a parking lot for large vehicles prepared in front. Immediately, the sound and heat that doubled in the alley rushed like a tsunami.

Many men fight two-handed.

One is a group of people of different ages and races who continue to shoot in the warehouse. The screams are also mixed with syllabary in English and Chinese. According to information from Kusanagi Izumo, an advisor to "Homura", it appears that they are from the Southeast Asian criminal mafia organization, who began to enter and leave the Shizume-cho area earlier this year. He hears the main business is buying and selling drugs and firearms, but the guns they have now are probably part of the product.

On the other hand, it is the young people who have settled in the street who are attacking the stopped truck instead. It is a group of not a few minors. They don't have any kind of firearms, and at most they have things like knives and iron pipes in their empty fists. It is not a force that can compete with the armed mafia. However, they were removing one after another the gangsters who had spread through the alleys, and finally pushed them into the warehouse.

It is their "power" that fills the overwhelming difference in strength between them.

It was a flame-shaped "power" that they were manipulating as members. It is nothing else, the "power" that Suoh gave them.

Possessor of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena.

Among them, including Suoh, there are only seven people in the world, Ex-A individuals, popularly called "King's Power", and some were also simply called "King". The street gang, "Homura", is the "clan" with whom he shared his power.

The red clan "Homura" led by the third king, the Red King, Suoh Mikoto.

They are such a talented group of people that they are hunting down the armed mafia.

"Mikoto-san!"

One of the members was quick to notice that Suoh appeared in the parking lot. Rikio Kamamoto, a veteran of the team.

"Sorry! We wanted to finish it by the time you got there, Mikoto-san, but they even took out machine guns."

Under the word, he roared a series of different shots. It is not a gun. As Kamamoto reported, it is probably an assault machine gun. He sees the members of "Homura" running towards the shadow of the truck.

"Damn it! Don't be afraid! I'll make a wall with flames and push it!"

"Damn. Roll back, not forward!"

The screams of the members can be heard from the shot.

Despite being exposed to intense firefights, the members of "Homura" did not appear to be weakened.

On the contrary, the sense of exhilaration to exercise "power" as they wish makes them feel joyous and even joyful.

Everyone was full of energy and their eyes were shining.

Fierce fighting spirit and madness. The heat that had been transmitted to the alley was now filling the area.

Suoh frowned slightly.

The blood is burning. The enthusiasm emanating from the entire body seems to be provoking Suoh. The "power" in Suoh wants to be released like his friends.

At that moment, a flash of light ran through the warehouse window, making a sharp, sparkling noise on the asphalt. Suoh's feet. A series of landings snaked like a seam, the surface of the street was crushed and debris bounced. Kamamoto hurriedly stepped on, "Oh?"

"Damn it! Mikoto-san, please be careful!"

With Kamamoto yelling in a hurry, Suoh looked around the warehouse. The distance is about 200 meters. It's a good range. Suoh waved the cigarette. The back of his body tenses. The impulse of "power" approaches the throat.

Suoh's "power" is flame.

He fundamentally hates slavery and wants freedom.

"Mikoto-san!"

When Kamamoto urged him on, the bullets flew again. A bullet that jumps overhead lands on the asphalt behind. Kamamoto jumped in front of Suoh, yelling "Watch out!" Trying to protect the "King" with his own shield.

But,

"Kamamoto. Go away."

Suoh said that carelessly, made a noise and stepped forward. Kamamoto looked back to say something, but when he saw Suoh, he swallowed the words. Then, as if pushed by Suoh's magnetic field, he naturally stepped aside.

Take two or three steps forward. He spits out the cigarette and stomps on it. Immediately afterwards, the bullets grab the side again. A smile came to him. The blood was playing.

All good.

A bright red aura escaped from Suoh Mikoto's entire body.

The aura that colors Suoh turns into a burning pillar of fire, expelling the darkness around him. Heat waves struck the surroundings suspiciously, and the humid night air instantly burned away. But what is most striking, is his powerful presence. And it was a feeling of intimidation like a fire giant, that you can't think of the same person.

The men who were fighting enthusiastically caught their breath and looked back.

Then after a second, they screamed louder than before. However, some are terrifying and others scream with joy.

The perimeter aura spreads explosively and occupies the entire area.

Probability deviation field of the king, is the "area" of the king called "Sanctuary". Furthermore, the released "force" shoots up into the sky, is concentrated at a certain point, and is compressed to form a "shape".

A huge "sword" that appears high in the sky with the release of the "enormous power of royal authority". The sword-shaped energy body, which is a crystal of "power" and symbolizes real power, was called the "Sword of Damocles" following the history of ancient Greece due to the "possibility" of the phenomenon.

The members of “Homura” took a breath.

And,

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

They raise their voices like crazy and thrust their fist skyward.

The King's "Sword of Damocles" is the source and symbol of the "power" of the clan members and the flag of "Homura." They are proud of him and his friends. The screams of fiercely violent, yet transparently pure youths screamed to the point of conquering the summer night.

But…

Is not sufficient.

Still not enough. That "power" is a feeling and a passion. The red waves that sprout from the limbs have yet to come out. More and more. He wants to release that "power" that boils like magma. Everywhere, forever, to the limit. No, he wants to go beyond the limits and run until he breaks.

It is an unreasonable desire to be released.

He's hungry, the flames jump.

Sparks fly.

Suoh's flame gained even more power. It gained even more momentum. The voltage of "Homura" increases proportionally. The hot air has now turned into a soggy heat vortex, making all tangible things deeply compressed and squishy. Kamamoto, who was on the other side, stumbled unbearably and stuck to the bottom. The moment Suoh's entire body was integrated with the flame, a small crack ran in the "Sword of Damocles" high above. It's okay. It's even better if he tear everything down, screw everything up, and that's it.

But…

"...King."

There was a light voice that did not suit the occasion.

Suoh suddenly tightens the loose rope. The "power" that was about to be unleashed went crazy at once.

Suoh suppresses it with all his might, but the trapped "power" immediately increases the internal pressure on Suoh.

The Sword of Damocles is flawed, and the blade cracks as if to complain.

"Please forgive me. It's hot and dry."

The unreliable voice, however, was uncontrollable in reflective passion that crept through the turbulence of "power" and reached inside Suoh. A lead line of sight that melted when heated entered the lead vocal. The murderous impulse of violence seems to have a mass of its own. However, when the young man smiled, he showed his shoulders to Suoh's eyes.

Tatara Totsuka, executive of "Homura".

He is a kind and neutral young man who seems to have nothing to do with violence. However, Totsuka smiles in front of the "King" on the verge of an outburst without hesitation.

Suoh stood up with all skeletal muscles contracted for a while.

Then he relaxed his whole body a bit.

He carefully lower the internal pressure that was the limit.

Look around.

The space around the area is already filled with exploding "power". The clan member, who receives the king, can exercise more "power" than usual in the "Sanctuary". If it had been a fifty percent battle situation up until now, it would have been impossible for the enemy to win.

He does not need more.

"......"

The pillar of fire that swallowed Suoh slowly melted into the night air. Enemies and allies. While looking at everyone in the place, Suoh took out the cigarette, lit it, slowly inhaled it into his lungs, and exhaled.

"...Burn them."

Short command.

The voice that answered was brave and fierce, and seemed to clearly indicate the whereabouts of victory or defeat. Kamamoto leaps to his feet and runs to the front line. Not just him. The members of "Homura" jump out of the shadow of the truck and run to the warehouse.

However, Suoh didn't even look at them. Various urges that are still hard, he presses his lips and desperately gets over it.

"King?"

Totsuka asks to think about it. Suoh barely replied, "Oh.", While looking away from Totsuka.

"I have watered it."

It seems like he couldn't help but say it after knowing everything. Suoh's harsh expression was revealed in the apology that appears to be Totsuka. At the same time, the mind regains balance.

"Leave the rest to them."

"Okay. Still, there is no room for me."

The clansmen who witnessed the majesty of the "King" attacked the warehouse immediately. The battle will end soon. Suoh slowly releases smoke.

"Sorry."

"Ah?"

"No, you see. At the moment, I had a strange feeling."

"What are you saying?"

Suoh's strength gradually unraveled as Totsuka laughed. Suoh was somewhat conscious and smiled bitterly.

He is still irritated. The anger lasted a little longer, it was supposed to settle deep down on Suoh while the total amount was reduced a bit. As usual. Suoh has been screaming and screaming for years with intangible irritation eroding him. Even with the fire of the "King", there are things that cannot be burned.

"Damn…"

Why did he become king? The self-question that has been repeated many times since that day three years ago, returns to his heart.

But that was the moment.

There was no sign. It's not like I feel anything.

However, Suoh suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction of the night sky as he was guided by his intuition.

It is the eastern sky.

"What?"

And Totsuka lags slightly behind and turns his neck in the same direction as Suoh.

Suoh's red "Sword of Damocles" floats high above them.

And, maybe it's his imagination. Beyond the night sky they gazed at, he felt blue light flickering.

Like a shooting star or something.

"What?"

"......"

Suoh silently does not respond to Totsuka's words. However, he kept staring up at the sky.

The fight continues.

However, Suoh couldn't look away for some reason.

++++++++++

"Blue King?"

"Yes. The position has been vacant for a long time, but it seems that it has finally been filled."

Totsuka listens from the counter, Kusanagi nodded while cleaning a glass tumbler.

"HOMRA" is a retro-style bar in a corner of Shizume-cho. In addition to the seasoned counter, there are vintage couch and tables in the large wooden shop. The rows of colored bottles lined up on the rear bar are truly authentic.

However, contrary to cocktail making, "HOMRA" is the real territory of the red clan recognized by "Accord 120," and even the home of Suoh Mikoto, where the executives of the "Homura" street gang gather. The owner and master is Kusanagi Izumo. He is still twenty-four years old, but he took over the shop originally run by his uncle.

"Ah... but the information is still fast."

"I don't care about that, it's about me."

"Well, because 'King' is 'King'."

"Can you use it a little more carefully? For now, keep a low profile."

"There is. It's like a Hagi snake."

It's not a bad wind, but Totsuka sticks out his tongue. Kusanagi shrugged his shoulders.

Kusanagi is a high rank. He dyes his hair and often wears light-colored sunglasses. He seems like a smart gamer, but he's actually quite a difficult person. He was the oldest of the main members of "Homura", and probably because of that, he had a bad feeling of familiarity.

On the other hand, Totsuka is a young man of innocent childishness. The neat face is also feminine, and the piercing in the left ear looks good. Although he is an executive in a street gang, the impression that he is violent is probably of a distant kind.

Suoh, Kusanagi and Totsuka became their first clansmen (Clansman) when Suoh, who had been associated with them before Suoh was chosen "King", woke up as "King". Three years ago. When Suoh was nineteen.

"The former 'Blue King' died when the crater was created, right?"

"It's the so-called Kagutsu incident. The previous 'Red King' lost control and changed the terrain of Japan. The previous 'Blue King' must have died at that time."

"Well then that was over a decade ago."

Totsuka leaned freely over the counter and looked away.

Even though it happened over a decade ago, they both recall the confusion of the Kagutsu incident. After all, a huge crater suddenly appeared in the southern part of Kanto, causing hundreds of thousands of victims. There are various opinions about the truth of the case, but only the "King" and his vassals know the truth.

"Hey, that new 'King'..."

Without telling anyone, Totsuka muttered. Kusanagi did not reply and continued to polish the glass in silence. Then after a while, he takes out a cigarette to take a break.

1:00 PM. Even the members of "Homura", who are usually immersed in the place, rarely appear during this time. In "HOMRA", which is noisy until midnight, he can spend more quietly and slowly during the day like now.

The summer sun shines vertically from the skylight and does not enter the store much. The windows were filled with brilliant white light, vividly separating the scorching exterior from the coolness inside.

"Eh? Hey, Kusanagi-san. Now that the new "Blue King" has appeared, will "Scepter 4" be revived?"

"I don't know, but it is likely."

Kusanagi replied casually, pursing his lips and spitting smoke. However, his appearance was mysterious and it can be seen that he foresaw the troubles of the near future.

"Scepter 4".

Its official name is "Family Registration Division of the Tokyo Legal Affairs Office, Fourth Branch". As the name implies, it is an office of a government agency, and its business is "special foreign family record management, etc.".

However, the real situation is "a security organization for people with powers."

Possessors of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena. The so-called skill holders were extremely troublesome and dangerous in modern society. Although it has strong power, it is difficult to distinguish it, and even if it is legally repressed, there is almost no way to impose some kind of regulation in reality. It is like a human being with a firearm that can be used anytime, anywhere, without control, without any qualification or legal responsibility.

However, many of the talented people acquire their unique abilities by receiving "power" from the "King" or under the direction of the "King". As a result, most of them belong to a clan with the "King" at the top, and as a result, they are under some control. Of course, the nature of the clan changes according to the intentions of each "King", but there is the "Agreement 120" between the kings, to curb social unrest and conflicts between clans, and the unorthodox behavior of the members is also suppressed of the clan.

However, it is not that there are no examples of clan members using "power" to commit criminal acts.

Furthermore, there are a number of talented people who spontaneously gain "power" regardless of the "King". The ones called "Strains". Since they do not belong to the clan, they do not care about the "common sense of the world of talented people", such as the implicit understanding of "power", much less the "Agreement 120", or often they do not know it in the first place.

And it is "Scepter 4" that manages and supervises those Strains and represses crimes committed by talented people.

However, this is the story when the "Blue King" was alive. This is because "Scepter 4" has the appearance of "a blue clan led by the Blue King", in addition to its face as a security organization for people with powers. After all, in the face of a criminal with "power", the most effective way to control and capture is to have someone with the same "power" take charge. And the "Blue King" who controls the "power" of the "Red King" that is rooted in "destruction" reveals his "power" based on "order". The "Blue King" and his clan were best suited as security officers for the talented.

However, the previous "Blue King" died in Kagutsu's case 11 years ago.

After that, "Scepter 4" continued to carry out its duties in the absence of the "King", but last year, it suspended its activities following a certain incident. The job was transferred to another clan, resulting in a mid-way teardown. By the way, "Homura" is not little involved in a certain incident.

"Well, there were several things about us and "Scepter 4", but objectively speaking, that was a necessary organization. In fact, after "Scepter 4" disbanded, the problems related to the Strains increased."

"But thanks to that, we are making money."

"That's right. Recently, I feel like there are various adverse effects."

"Really?"

"You feel it?"

When Kusanagi asked and looked back, it seems that Totsuka somehow understands what Kusanagi is saying, with a bitter face that seems difficult to answer.

He hasn't put up a poster in a big way, but "Homura" has been doing something of a problem solver specializing in collecting Strains for some time.

This is the beginning of Suoh's work if the cause is corrected. For a time after graduating from high school, Suoh was imitating a gorilla in the underworld of Shizume-cho. In particular, after waking up as "King", various organizations have used him as a goalkeeper who can deal with problems related to the Strains. And such a demand has not changed even now, with the rise of "Homura" and becoming a major force in the underworld. On the contrary, it tended to increase even more than before. Today, Suoh himself is less likely to come out, but if requested, the "Homura" team will take the place.

Originally, there are many Strains in Shizume-cho. Every corner of the main street is maintained and a huge view of the street is installed, but if you enter from the back of the block, you can see the type of business that the law touches, mainly in the old town. Not only gangsters, but also foreign mafias have taken root.

For that reason, countless people of various positions come and go, and it was a land where it was easy to find a place for strangers like Strain. Naturally, there are many problems related to Strains.

"Of course, after all, it is a group of bad people. It is natural that it is rude..."

Since "Homura" was established as a street gang, there is a strong awareness that "Shizume-cho is their own rope". If a Strain goes crazy in Shizume-cho, they will take the initiative to go on a business trip and do their best to calm the noise. There was an "achievement" for better or for worse, and there was no resistance to responding to such "requests."

The resolution of problems related to Strains is a non-negligible source of income for "Homura".

However,

"Recently, in a bad way, I am recovering."

Then Kusanagi complained at the top.

It is no exaggeration to say that "Homura" dominates Shizume-cho, when it comes to talented people.

In the context of the absolute existence of the "Red King" Suoh Mikoto, rule by power is widespread. And his dominance extends to gangsters and the mafia through jobs like problem solving.

The situation in Shizume-cho was not necessarily bad for many varieties.

Strains that do not have a clan community are often used by the underworld.

In that sense, the criminal organizations rarely use the Strains in Shizume-cho city, where "Homura's" eyes are shining.

Strains who have struggled elsewhere can live in peace to some extent as long as they follow the minimal rules and conventions in Shizume-cho. In fact, hearing about "Homura's" reputation, the number of Strains migrating from other areas was increasing.

On the other hand, "Homura" in Shizume-cho city is inevitably becoming a kind of "authority". And it is that in "Homura" the number of people who realize this in a bad way and increase their attitude is increasing.

"Well, there are some parts that are not screaming to a certain extent, right? We are who we are, we are doing the best we can since the disbandment of “Scepter 4”. However, I don't know if he will become a Tengu. But if I don't understand because he has a bad head and boss, is he of poor quality?"

Such a trend was more pronounced for the newcomers, especially those who were away from Suoh, rather than the old ones who had contributed to "Homura" for a long time. The main members of "Homura" who hang out in "HOMRA" are the same as before. However, on the contrary, those who have less contact with Suoh and the main members, are swept away by the bloated image of "Homura", and they proclaim themselves members of "Homura". There was a strong tendency to show it off.

What's worse, the people around them believe they admit that attitude; rather, it is a tendency to respond positively.

"A recent story, the problem with the previous mob, I heard rumors like the trigger was in "Homura"."

"Eh? If that's true, it's really bad."

"I don't have any confirmation at the moment. When I thought about looking for him, the 'Blue King' came out and I wasn't sure what to do... Well, I don't want to eat villains anymore. Whether it's the minimum amount of morality or not, the reason is that he is an intelligent person."

After muttering to himself, Kusanagi tilted his mouth and lamented, "It's a bit bittersweet lately." "That's a complaint too." Totsuka pointed out cheerfully, and finally spoke a few words.

"But... it's true. Many of the faces that appear in "HOMRA" have strong habits, but they are basically good. Sometimes I forget if "Homura" is the original group."

"There is no 'good boy' in the collapse of the chicken coop, when you say something like someone else's business. Isn't it your responsibility to educate the newcomers?"

"Oh, again, Saruhiko."

"Well, when it comes to this big family, it's hard to keep an eye on the bottom."

That said, Kusanagi sighed with a bitter smile.

When a royal authority gives "power" to a specific person and welcomes him to the clan as a new member of the clan, there is a transit ritual called "Installation". The specific method differs according to the "King", and in Suoh's case, it was "flame". Only those who collect and accept the flame created by Suoh can awaken that "power" and become members of the clan. If it fails, they'll get a huge burn, and if they don't, it's a life-threatening rough installation.

For that reason, not many people want to join the Red Clan, but unlike other kings, Suoh does not deny them the opportunity. Anyone can take up the challenge as long as they are prepared to put their life in danger.

As a result, in proportion to "Homura's" rapid increase in power, the number of daredevils who yearned for the Red Clan increased, and many people appeared who passed through the facility.

Among the members of "Homura" who are basically gory, Totsuka is exceptionally kind and caring. For that reason, it is his role to take care of newcomers, but these days it is difficult to say that he is doing well in flattery.

"After all, I'm weak in 'power'. The guys who came for that kind of thing would see me down."

"When I say something that is not right. I mean, there is a newcomer that you can lose, right? Rather, it is the reason why the slightly demeaning attitude seems sweet. Sometimes it is very easy."

"Even if you say so, it is general."

Totsuka laughed at Kusanagi, who was in his line of sight.

In fact, despite being the oldest member of the clan like Kusanagi, Totsuka's "powers" are extremely weak, he is excellent in precision and dexterity to wield that "power", but he is generally not suitable for combat. He is a nonexistent type.

Still, the true value of Totsuka Tatara lies in the fact that he has earned friendship and trust without hesitation among tough people, but as he himself put it, he was drawn to "power" and "authority". He was often disrespected by those who participated in "Homura". Even if Totsuka is strangely friendly and affectionate, on the other hand, those who aren't interested have a dry side and easily distance themselves.

"Anyway, Kusanagi-san, do you mean if “Scepter 4” is revived, will the people below be tighter than now?"

"I don't think it's okay if I do it, but... I don't think it works."

"Will we crash somewhere?"

"I don't know yet. It depends on what kind of person the new 'Blue King' is. For the moment, the correct answer is to wait and see."

"It's hard to keep up."

"I don't mean it like other people's affairs."

Kusanagi, who was smoking, involuntarily smiled at Totsuka who was still somewhat grumpy.

"By the way, what about the 'Blue King'?"

"Like I said, 'do the right thing'. I hope you take a little more care of yourself so I don't have to worry about it."

"That's it... Kusanagi-san, you're begging for something that doesn't exist."

"What do you say, do you dare say it to my face?"

"Because our "King" is not interested in the struggle for power with other kings. Oh, so why not appear before the Blue Clan at a social gathering to avoid useless conflicts? Are all members of "Homura" required to participate? This season, there is the Obon dance contest."

“Well, it may unexpectedly be the 'Homura' golden rule. If you have a habit of being associated with Bon Dance, you can stretch your spine. Of many ways."

"I will definitely hold my stomach and laugh."

"It is a spectacle to see how are the people who came with strange expectations to "Homura". By the way, let's serve sake. A direct drink from the third king. They will not be afraid to refuse, I will have many stocks of "HOMRA"."

The area where the two oldest executives handle this seriously is probably Suoh's "King" boundary. However, if Suoh was a perfect king, be it Kusanagi or Totsuka, they shouldn't have thought that he would go to the trouble.

But...

When the rulers of Shizume-cho told a ridiculous story, small, light footsteps echoed within the bar. From the stairs leading to the bar, it was a girl who came down.

"Oh, Anna. You were awake."

She is still young, at most an elementary school girl. Before Totsuka who was smiling, her face was thin, but with a serious gesture, she made a small click.

Like a handmade doll, she is a delicate and well-dressed girl in a ruffled dress. The skin is extremely white and the long hair is also white. Still, the round eyes had a deep red color. Red and black based gothic and lolita clothing looks better than ever.

Kushina Anna. She is a member of "Homura", who, although she looks like this, is a member of the Red Clan.

She is also one of the important members, unlike the newcomers from the fund.

"Anna. What about Mikoto?"

"He is still sleeping."

"Oh. Good condition."

"I feel tired. So..."

"I understand. It was not our intention to wake you up."

Kusanagi gently said to Anna, who said a few words and moved her shoulders. Anna smiled at Kusanagi's light mouth, trying to respond to Kusanagi's concern.

Anna is a member of the Red Clan, but was previously a Strain. She is also a very special person with excellent sensitivity.

However, being a good talent does not necessarily mean that she is lucky for a girl like Anna. Fortunately, she grew up blessed with the adults around her, but for a time she was still closed to her surroundings. She is still not good at speaking and does not have many words.

As Anna reached over and sat down on the counter, Totsuka looked at Kusanagi with a hint of gaze. Kusanagi immediately understood and laughed, "Of course, I know."

"Well, Anna was the first to notice the 'Blue King', right? So I hurriedly looked for him."

"What? That was Anna, it was a credit."

Looking at Anna while Totsuka was impressed, the girl turned slightly. She seems to be shy.

In fact, it was Anna who became the key person in "a certain incident" that led to the dissolution of "Scepter 4". She has a slight connection to "Scepter 4" and the "Blue King." And it's never a funny memory.

However, the incident was the one that caused Anna to join the Red Clan, and she has since moved with Suoh. Thanks to that, Suoh, Kusanagi, Totsuka, and other members love her, and her personality, which tended to crash, is improving.

While the incident itself is not a funny memory, it is an important milestone in her life and, above all, a past event that is now over. Even though a new "Blue King" had been born, she no longer seemed upset.

Even though she is a girl, Anna is growing every day because she is a child.

"Yes, Anna. Are you interested in King's Obon dance?"

"Idiot. Don't even tell Anna there is such thing."

"No, I think Anna looks good in a yukata, right?"

“So even if you don't bother planning an Obon dance, if you take her to some summer festival, that's fine. Anna, would you like to go out on a cool afternoon?"

Kusanagi proposes to go out to Anna while giving Totsuka a hint that he was wrong.

However, the girl's reaction was more serious than the tension of the two adults.

"Mikoto... he was screaming at dawn."

She said it painfully.

Kusanagi and Totsuka involuntarily clutched their mouths and exchanged piercing glances.

Anna has few words, but she pays more attention to the words she says and puts her heart into them. It resonates in the heart of the listener.

"No, I don't think I have a nightmare every day."

"Even in the last conflict with the mob, there seemed to be a lot of outrage."

"Oh, I told you."

"We can understand King's suffering, but we cannot realize it."

Suffering from having too much power. In reality, few people can experience such a thing. Suoh's suffering is the "King's" suffering. There can be no true understanding unless you are in the same position.

"Oh, wow."

Kusanagi laughs. Totsuka and Anna turned to Kusanagi.

"They look like each other."

Just as the hardships of his vassals are known only to his vassals, so is the loneliness of the "King".

So the only way to treat yourself is to respect and be considerate of the other.

“If he's a new king or clan, what happens? Well, at least I don't have to worry about monthly sales, and that's enough."

Kusanagi said that, and started setting up the bar again. Totsuka and Anna looked at each other and smiled out of nowhere.

#k #k project #k R:B #Novel #homura #Izumo Kusanagi #yata misaki #suoh mikoto #totsuka tatara #Saruhiko Fushimi #kushina anna #kamamoto rikyo

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