#i get the same satisfaction of pressing a button and no longer seeing messages but being able to reverse my decision 🤣
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rainingincale · 11 months ago
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1kook · 4 years ago
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BORN SINNER III
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→ MASTERLIST
summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k
banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons​ !! ty ty ty!! <3333
notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu​ *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3
in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series
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He gets your text the following Tuesday morning. 
Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver. 
It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else. 
From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work. 
He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone. 
[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰
[❤️]: after my last class of course
Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow. 
Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again. 
He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?
The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears. 
You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”
And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—
And of course, he had felt… something afterwards. 
This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning. 
First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?
But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good. 
(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)
From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life. 
He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you. 
It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands. 
You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word. 
You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him. 
But still. 
Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.
He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess. 
If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning. 
But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience. 
Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned. 
Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants. 
He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet. 
But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord. 
But he’s scared. 
Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you. 
And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character. 
But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t. 
His phone buzzes in his hand—
[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️
—and his decision is made. 
Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors. 
Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs. 
“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up. 
In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—
“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.” 
You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”
By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you. 
He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease. 
As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“
“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.
It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”
You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean. 
“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes. 
It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead. 
A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness. 
And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there. 
And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything. 
“__?” he says before he can stop himself. 
You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you. 
You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. 
Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?” 
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Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained. 
It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind. 
Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words. 
You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before. 
Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.
Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch. 
His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”
It sounds flimsy, even to you. 
“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”
You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.
His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.
Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him.  With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.) 
“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”
“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh. 
His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.
He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed. 
Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.” 
It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that? 
Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”
In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so. 
But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not. 
Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.” 
It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.” 
If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place. 
In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion. 
It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later. 
Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car. 
What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.
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Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his. 
But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?
“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“
“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.” 
And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly. 
Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out. 
There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different. 
It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you. 
Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you. 
And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity. 
The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up. 
By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his. 
Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content. 
All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you. 
By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that. 
But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long. 
You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm. 
It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back. 
“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”
Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open. 
He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. 
When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again. 
A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?” 
Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips. 
Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again. 
You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now. 
Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once. 
Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”  
And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in. 
He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t. 
Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms. 
“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?” 
Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough. 
By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”
Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist. 
He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him. 
But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl. 
The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple. 
Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror. 
The sight of him is… weird to say the least. 
Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface. 
That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down. 
In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side. 
Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck. 
Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day. 
Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close. 
You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday. 
It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips. 
It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself. 
“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him. 
His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?” 
It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him. 
The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”
And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.” 
His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space. 
Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“
His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin. 
You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you. 
But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it. 
It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress. 
It felt good.
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mysmemissme · 3 years ago
Text
Up the Rabbit Hole
Summary: You have a problem- you can't stop thinking about how good Barbatos looked in that bunny costume. It's interfering with your studies, duties, and even your friendship with him. With no clue what to do, you begin to avoid him.
Barbatos, however, is not fond of this fix, and when his patience runs thin, he offers you a more unorthodox solution.
Pairing: Barbatos/ Reader
Rating: Explicit
CW: Prostate massage, anal fingering, collars, slight master/pet
Read below the cut or on AO3 
A gift for my friend for Barbatos’ birthday! Enjoy!
It was all that bunny suit’s fault.
Ever since everyone was forced to don those dumb bunny costumes, you had been an utter wreck. You couldn’t focus on your studies, earning you an earful from Lucifer. You couldn’t focus when you were cooking, earning complaints about the pitiful state of dinner from everyone but Lucifer. You couldn’t focus on Mammon’s schemes, or Levi’s games, or Satan’s recommended books, or Asmo’s fashion advice, or Lucifer’s lectures, or Beel’s workouts, or even something as simple as napping with Belphie. You couldn’t focus on anything.
Except for the mental image of Barbatos in that bunny outfit.
Why it had enchanted you so much was a mystery. Maybe it was the change in wardrobe; the way the vest highlighted his slender waist and broad shoulders, the lime green tie bringing out the same shade in his eyes. Maybe it was the ears themselves and the charming tail that accompanied them; the ears revealing a cutesier side to the ever-serious butler, and the fluffy tail drawing attention to his rounded behind. Maybe it was watching him work in the suit, catering to guests as serious, as dedicated, as always, despite the circumstances. Maybe it was the way he wore it all with no shame, not embarrassed in the slightest at the large ears, rounded tail, and odd situation, retaining his confidence through it all…
Maybe it wasn’t a mystery why you liked it so much after all.
Either way, your thoughts and preoccupation with the memories of Bunny Barbatos were providing you with issues- the biggest of which being that you couldn’t even talk with Barbatos anymore. You couldn’t make eye contact with him without thinking about floppy ears and a firm build. You couldn’t listen to him speak without the deep timbre of his voice igniting fantasies mid-conversation that left you a stuttering mess. Even simply being near him caused your brain to derail, hands to sweat, and heart to pound.
In one moment of weakness, you bought a dark green collar you saw while browsing the web, one you knew would look amazing on Barbatos, especially paired with the cursed ears and tail. You hid it in your bedside table, refusing to acknowledge just how far gone you were, refusing to acknowledge the new images, fantasies, and dreams it sparked.
You, in embarrassment and for your sanity, started to avoid him.
You weren’t dumb enough to think this would solve the problem, especially with how sharp Barbatos was. What you had hoped was that Barbatos would tolerate your finicky behavior without prying just long enough for you to get this problem under wraps.
For a while, it worked- Barbatos allowed you to make your escape, sending any messages he needed to tell you through the brothers. He left sweets wrapped with notes attached on them for you to enjoy on your bed. If you ended up in the same hallway, he kindly ducked into a nearby corridor in order for you to pass unhindered.
This game continued for two weeks- you avoiding him, and Barbatos letting you. His patience was commendable, and it was just another thing you admired about him. He let you go, again and again, in an unusual game of cat and mouse.
But everyone’s patience runs out eventually.
It was on the fifteenth day of this arrangement that Lucifer handed you a note. It read:
                 Dear,
Meet me in your bedroom tonight at eight ‘o’clock sharp. There is something we must discuss. No more running from me.
                               Sincerely,
                               Your faithful servant, Barbatos
 You read over the note again with trepidation and glanced at the time on your D.D.D.- 4:01. You had four hours to prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation you knew was to come. Four hours to get yourself under control. Your stomach tied itself in knots.
Stupid bunny outfit.
               -----
Time flew, and before you knew it, eight was upon you.
You paced outside your door, fidgeting with your hands and hair. Your nerves were getting the best of you. What if he rejected you? What if he no longer even wanted to be friends with you? What if he called you a kinky freak and exposed you? What if he convinced Diavolo to send you back to the human world?
‘What if’ upon ‘what if’ piled up in your mind, each one more ridiculous and implausible than the last. It was agonizing, not knowing what was going to happen when you stepped through the door and faced Barbatos. You felt the seconds tick away, each pressing down on you more and more.
Finally, you couldn’t stand the pressure and anxiety anymore. You flung the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. There, on your bed he sat with-
With bunny ears on and the suit to match. Suddenly, you felt like passing out.
When he saw you enter, he moved to stand, and a flash of light from his neck caught your eye. The bunny ears had distracted you from the rich, dark green velvet adorning his slender neck, the gold chain attached matching the golden detailing and swirls on the green.
It was the collar you had bought. He was wearing the collar you had bought and hid.
“That- that’s the- But I- How’d you- Why’re you-,” you stuttered. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and they all came rushing out in an incomprehensible mess you continued to stumble through, even as Barbatos glided towards you. He raised a gloved hand and caressed your face when he was near enough to. He shushed you.
“A few days ago, I came in here to drop off a slice of Devil food cake, and I intended to leave a note. However, I seemed to have forgotten a pen. I didn’t mean to pry, but I figured that one such as yourself would keep a pen near your bed, so I looked in your bedside table. While I certainly did find a pen to write with, I also found this charming collar hidden away. It seemed to match perfectly with a certain outfit I wore not too long ago. Care to explain?”
His facial expression never changed, but his eyes shown with a mischievous sheen, his voice filled with amusement, and there was a slight self-satisfied quirk to his smile. You could try and lie your way out of this one, but it was clear he had figured you out long ago. You sighed.
“I think you already know everything, jerk,” you grumbled, before continuing louder. “Fine. You were really hot in that bunny outfit, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I bought that collar because I thought it would look good on you, and I was right. I’ve been having inappropriate fantasies about you, which is why I’ve been avoiding you. There, happy?”
He chuckled. “Quite. Hearing such flattering words come from you is always welcomed. Since you were so honest with me, I believe you deserve a special treat.”
“What do you mean by ‘special treat?’ Like dessert?” He hummed, obviously amused.
“No, I believe something else is in order. You mentioned certain… fantasies pertaining to me, did you not?” You nodded dumbly. His lips twitched, and he reached for his tie, slowly loosening it. “Well then, since you were honest about having them, as a reward I’ll allow you to fulfill them.”
Your brain was running a mile a minute but still couldn’t seem to catch up. “Fulfill my fantasies?” you questioned.
He fully removed his tie, moving to lay it on the bed. He then began to undo the buttons on his vest and shirt, revealing inch-by-inch more of his pale skin. “Yes, fulfill your wishes. Touch me as you wish, direct me as you want. Command me, your humble servant.”
It was like his words had cast a spell on you, because suddenly all the desire and lust you had been repressing for the past weeks welled to the surface. Your hands itched to touch, your tongue to taste, and your eyes to look upon him below you.
“Lay down on the bed.”
He did as told, and you closed the distance in a second, straddling his body. His dark hair fanned out against the pillows, bunny ears tapping the headboard. His eyes practically glowed with a mix of satisfaction and interest. His shirt and vest were completely undone, hanging open. You swallowed.
You pushed the shirt and vest down his arms, and with his help, you removed them completely. Now that his upper body was completely visible, you couldn’t stop your hands from dancing along his shoulders, collarbones, and chest with frantic energy.
“You know,” you started, voice thick, “In my fantasies, I like to spoil the always-composed butler with attention and pleasure till he so overwhelmed that his mask breaks, and I get to see him beg. Spoiling someone who always works so hard, like they are my pet who did a good job, and this is their reward.”
“Then by all means, Master, reward me, your humble bunny.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You leaned down, pressing kisses along his flawless skin from his partially exposed neck, to his collarbones, to his nipples. Your lips latched onto one, sucking and tugging lightly with your teeth, while the other one was pinched with your eager hand. You heard him sigh, but that wasn’t enough- you wanted to hear him lose his composure completely.
You move to the other nipple, laving it with attention as well, till both nipples were hard and perky. Once you were satisfied with that, you continued your path downwards. You alternated dotting his skin with kisses and light nips, stopping to suck here and there. When you passed his belly button, getting ever so close to the waistband of his pants, you felt his stomach tighten in anticipation.
You reached for the button on his pants, undoing it and shoving them down to his ankles, stopping to admire the bulge in his boxer briefs before shoving those down, too. His cock now free and hard, it stood proudly towards his stomach, leaking precum.
You wrapped your hands around it, looking up at Barbatos’ face for any sign of change, but his expression was as placid as always. Using the precum dripping from the tip, you wet your hands, before setting a steady pace of jerking him off, slowing at the tip to rub your thumb against it.
You looked up at his face, yet his expression had not changed despite the pleasure.
You were going to have to up your game if you wanted him to melt beneath you.
You stopped your ministrations, leaning over Barbatos to reach into your beside table. You pulled out the lube you had stashed there, closing the drawer, and moving back down Barbatos’ body. You spread his legs and settled between them, popping the lube open. You poured a sizable amount onto your palm, then began rubbing your hands together to warm the liquid.
“This okay?” you asked, circling your middle finger around his tight hole, but not entering.
“Touch me as much as you want, wherever you want,” he said, voice husky. You rolled your eyes.
“Is that a yes? I need a clear one.”
“Then, yes.” He spread his legs even wider, giving you ample access.
Now that that was out of the way, you tentatively pushed your finger into his tight hole. With your free hand, you grabbed his cock once more, stroking it to make sure he felt good even while you stretched him.
You began to thrust your finger in and out, letting Barbatos adjust to the sensation. When you felt him relax and loosen slightly around you, you added a second finger. He hissed at the additional digit, and when you checked to make sure he was okay, his eyes were closed, eyebrows raised and furrowed.
You stopped moving. “Is this-,”
“Yes, it’s okay. Keep going,” he grunted out, wiggling his hips. You started thrusting your fingers again, and he sighed.
Oh, okay.
So, he was feeling it, but you still wanted more.
You replaced your random thrusting with rubbing against his inner walls, searching for what you knew would cause him to crumble. It took a few moments, but you knew the second you felt the bump that that was what you had been looking for.
You began to circle the small bump, applying steady pressure, causing Barbatos to arch off the bed. Proud that you had gotten such an obvious reaction out of him, you doubled down, circling faster and tightening your grip on his cock as you continued to jerk him off.
You then alternated between circling, tapping the bump, and rubbing it in a ‘come hither’ motion. Barbatos’ legs began to quiver, and when you glanced up, you saw he had become a mess- panting with his mouth open, sweat beading on his brow, and cheeks flushed pink. You stared in wonder, adoring his reactions.
And yet, it still wasn’t enough- he still hadn’t made any noise.
Desperate for him to moan or gasp or anything, you replaced your hand on his leaking cock with your lips, circling the tip with your tongue and licking the underside, before taking him in your mouth.
“Ah!” he gasped, bucking his hips, pushing his cock further into your mouth, the taste of his salty precum and his smell overwhelming your senses. As you took him deeper, you applied more pressure on his prostate, all while keeping your motions random.
It was then that Barbatos’ poise began to collapse completely. He started wiggling his hips, thrusting forward and backward like he was chasing both the warm heat of your mouth and the shocks of pleasure your hand was providing with his prostate. One of his gloved hands came down to rest on the back of your head, fingers wrapping your hair and holding you in place as he used your mouth. He moaned as he fucked your mouth roughly, cock touching the back of your throat.
Then, a loud moan he released caused you to look up once more, only to meet his hazy gaze as he stared down on you pleasuring him. Your eye contact seemed to add fuel to the fire as the grip on your hair tightened, and his thrusts became faster. From how he was biting his lips and arching his back, you could tell he was close, so you ground your fingers against his prostate, harder than before, right as his cock was fully sheathed in your mouth.
With the simultaneous overpowering sensations, he came, sighing long and low as he filled your throat with his cum. You managed to swallow most of it, though some slid down your chin. After a few seconds, when he was done basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulled his softening cock from your mouth, and you moved back from between his legs so he could pull his pants up.
Once he was tucked back in and pants buttoned, you figured you were done and went to stand, only to end up flat on your back on the bed, Barbatos straddling you in a surprising role reversal of earlier. You gaped up at him. His face was already back to normalcy, but his lips were shiny with spit and his hair tousled.
He reached up, taking off his bunny ears and putting them on you. He leaned down, licking the cum off your chin before whispering against your ear.
“Now, it’s my turn.”
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paper-n-ashes · 4 years ago
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New Endeavours
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Characters: Modern AU!Kylo Ren x Female Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), Sugar daddy relationship, sexual references but no actual smut, bisexual vibes, attending a strip club.
Author’s Note: This is all because of my love, @maryforyou. An AU venture she ignited and I couldn’t let go of. Read into this however you want, I’m an open book in terms of exploring sexuality without labels. Being the first AU I’ve ever attempted, I kept this as an intro, to hopefully dive into the more explicit content I’ve been ruminating on for too long as a Part 2 (depending on how this is received).
*
“Are you sure this what you want?”
You smiled sweetly, smoothing out the creases in your dress as Kylo handed you your coat and gloves. “Like I said every day this week, I’m very sure.”
He still appeared doubtful, plush lips twisted in a disbelieving frown. “I could give you anything your heart desires for your birthday, princess,” he urged, helping you to secure the top buttons of your waistcoat, his large frame shifting close to yours. “This barely seems like enough of a gift for such a special occasion.”
Kylo was used to showering you with physical symbols of his adoration in the 18 months you had known him. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, lavishing all types of jewellery and clothing on you, some of the pieces you were certain cost more than your tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city. Every time you tried to refuse the extravagant gifts, Kylo always replied with sweetened notions of needing to worship and adore the personified goddess he saw you as. And when spoken in his infuriatingly mesmerising tenor, they would quickly conquer your resistance.
You were acutely aware of what this looked like from an outside perspective. A wealthy older man courting a young woman over 10 years his junior. Bathing her head to toe in the finest attire, parading her around in places a woman of her standing wouldn’t have been able to afford in two lifetimes.
A label came with this kind of behaviour. One you didn’t particularly like, yet was still true.
Sugar daddy.
There wasn’t a way you could deny that’s how your association with Kylo begun.
You’d heard whispers of other girls at the college you went to doing it. Offering their bodies to the affluent men of this city. At first, you’d scoffed at the idea. But when that third overdue notice of your credit card debt came, with the threat of eviction hanging over your head, you didn’t really have much choice.
A name was given to you of a bar that specialised in these kinds of meetings, completely covertly of course. And there Kylo had found you, hiding away in a secluded corner, stirring the gin and tonic in front of you with a single finger. At first, you’d assumed he was a well-dressed bartender, seemingly too young and strikingly handsome to be in need of a place like this. So you smiled sweetly and told him you weren’t quite done with your drink.
Within such an innocent interaction, Kylo knew he had to have you. And he did, 45 minutes later in the poorly lit bathroom stall, half-dressed bodies clutched together as he had you perch on the porcelain sink, fucking you with an uncharacteristically reckless abandon.
He hadn’t intended to. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he anticipated from that evening, the recommendation being given to him from a higher executive who regularly partook in the questionable operations of this establishment. Kylo meant only to scope the place out, sit for a quiet solitary drink out of the way of other patrons. There, he’d discovered you.
Shrinking into your stool, somewhat inhibited, clearly out of your element. The shy smile that spread across your face after he murmured a stiff hello ensnared him in moments, simply for how sincere it was. He wasn’t used to that.
Another thing Kylo wasn’t used to was the type of electricity that followed in your conversation. Rarely had he experienced an exchange that was so charged yet… genuine. You didn’t appear expectant, didn’t care to know how much money he made or the status of his career. You simply wanted to talk.
It was interesting how this fuelled an urge to make you speechless, to have you resorting to whines and whimpers rather than articulate your thoughts with any words. He didn’t act on them. Content to bide his time, play his cards right, set a precedence of composure and restraint in the hope of securing another meeting. You, however, had never cultivated the same type of discipline Kylo had.
After too many long minutes of flirtatious banter, you leaned forward, mouthing in a hushed tone, asking him to meet you in the women’s bathroom.
The chance encounter had bound you for longer than predicted.
Although never explicitly stated, the two of you fulfilled a portion of each other’s needs. Kylo required adequate distraction from his corporate life, someone who could slip into his erratic schedule with ease to… relieve him of mounting tension. In return, he provided you the monetary means to live in the city of your dreams without constant fear of homelessness.
In the months that passed, your arrangement turned into something stable, secure. His presence a constant in your life. While his working hours were long and finishing times unpredictable, Kylo could always count on you to be summoned to him from a single text message. Be it in the middle of the day, or the early hours of morning, you would race to a place of his choosing. Sometimes at his lush apartment, sometimes his office, and a plethora of restaurant bathrooms across the city after particularly stressful business lunches.
Initially, your involvement was kept mostly out of public view. Kylo had wanted to protect you from the judgements and negative connotations that were unavoidable in the arena of his work. Around the year mark, these reservations about being seen with you seemed to dissipate. Soon you were linked hand in hand at countless high-class dinners and charity events. A poised and elegant couple, right until the last set of eyes moved away.
This is where you had your fun.
As spectacular as Kylo was at fucking you until you saw stars, he’d surprisingly gone this long in life without venturing into more creative territory when it came to satisfaction. His version of sex was fast and hard, needing as much as you as he could get, chasing release with no frills or diversion. He’d never had the time, or the right lover, to encourage any of his deeply hidden fantasies. Until you.
You were game for anything. Sexually adventurous. Ready and willing to try all there was on offer just to elicit the highest levels of ecstasy. It was difficult not to be at the thought of Kylo’s hands, his mouth, his tongue, any part of him.
Although a little more slowly, he began to welcome new experiences, new pursuits of pleasure. Witnessing your reactions to these efforts became somewhat of an addiction for him. The way you writhed and squealed when exploring anal play for the first time. The way you surrendered and adored his verbal degradation and physical strikes. The way your body twitched and spasmed after the use of a newly obtained toy purchased with his platinum credit card.
You never pushed him, or forced him into anything he found uncomfortable in the chase of a sexual high. Communication was paramount, and boundaries were respected.
Interestingly enough, tonight was a boundary he never thought you’d cross.
“This is what I asked for, remember?” you smiled, taking the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to his nose.
Kylo’s apprehension refused to dissipate, while still clutching you closer. “It just… seems like this is something I will enjoy more than you.”
You barely withheld the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re sure about that, are you?”
His eyebrows crinkled, thinking the question over. There was the hint of a smirk that tugged the corner of his mouth, a subtle excited quiver in the breath he exhaled. “So you’re not doing this for me?”
“Not at all,” you breathed. Your palm slipped under his clean-shaven jaw, skating a thumb reassuringly over his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“You have?”
You hummed a yes, drifting your lips intoxicatingly close to his, staring up with wide eyes.
Kylo’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel jealous, princess.”
“You’re only looking,” you insisted softly. “And, even if you touch a little…” You bit your lip at the thought. “Those women won’t be who gets to be taken home and fucked until it hurts.”
There was a noticeable tensing in the arms circled around you, as Kylo’s eyes began to burn with an impatient greed. “I could do that now, right against this door.”
It was difficult to deny how you’d happily allow him to make true on that statement. To slam you into the exquisitely carved oak door of his apartment and fill you to your absolute limit. However, the tantalising image of your planned evening was too consuming, heaving and tugging for you to indulge a deeply embedded desire you’d never been brave enough to pursue.
“Save it for when we get home,” you chirped, reaching for the doorhandle and dragging Kylo into the hallway.
 *
“Follow me,” the maître D instructed, her voice cheerfully welcoming. Even the sight of her silken, green dress was intimidating, the fabric glossing over her nimble shape as she guided you up the set of stairs. The lighting was low, almost too dark to see properly, Kylo’s grip strong as your steps were drowned out by the sultry music emanating behind the double doors at the apex. As they were opened to you, the hypnotic baseline ricocheted around your body.
You scanned around the large room, bold lights illuminating a risen stage with two currently unused silver poles at either corner. Plush chairs circled around, occupied by a differing array of men. Slinking between the patrons were women decorated with luxurious, high-end lingerie, each one styled and set to provoke unyielding temptation.
This was a completely new undertaking for you. Attending a strip club. Usually a male endeavour, seeking out instant gratification in the form of scantily clad bodies and paid attention. You knew this was an unusual request for a birthday outing, yet in truth there was nothing from Kylo you wanted more.
The two reasons were somewhat opposing, although they would still feed the same goal. Satisfying a craving.
One being that you had always found women to be alluring and captivating to a height you’d never really accepted, almost been afraid of. Only with time and maturity had you learned your attraction to them was a natural occurrence you were now ready to explore.
The other reason was a little more scandalous, and what you hadn’t quite articulated to Kylo yet. To have the view of his eyes roaming another woman’s almost naked body as she exposed herself to him, drove you wild. In a situation you should feel jealousy, you were only devoured by an uncontainable lust.
Occasionally your mind had forayed into imaginations where he would take another like he’d taken you countless times, able to watch his hands clawing at supple breasts, the smooth motion of his hips, how his thick cock would split a tight, dripping cunt in two. All the while he would deride and goad you, layering you with taunts, desperate to inflame your envy and ownership.
Your plan for this particular evening didn’t extend that far. You only wished to enjoy the performance of mesmeric women in their most enchanting form, observe Kylo’s undeniable arousal at the same lithe, flexible bodies, and return home to remind him that only you could ignite the billowing flames of a violent release.
Oh, but that plan crumbled when you’d each settled into your seats, just in time for the next show of seduction. A pair of glittered, platform heels slinked near to the pole closest to you, your vision roaming upwards over the statuesque figure they connected to. Delicately laced, ivory fabric shielded her most intimate portions from full view, conforming flawlessly to the curves of her figure. Somehow demure yet indecently sensual.
Lips parted, your breath hitched as the exquisite woman twirled around, her eyes trained to you as she let a wicked smile appear. You were sure this was a regular occurrence, a flirtation she expressed to all the patrons in this room. Yet, as she began to move in time with the decadent beat of the music, her eyes stayed transfixed to you marvelling stare.
In an unprecedented display of courage, you beckoned Kylo closer to you, whispering to his ear. “Her. That’s what I really want for my birthday.”
*To be continued*
Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in future works! 
@tlcwrites @roanniom @maryforyou @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @mylifeisactuallyamess @hopeamarsu @foxilayde @goddesstonythetiger @caillea @direnightshade @blackberries45 
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diavohno · 4 years ago
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peccant pt.1
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▹ pairing: lucifer x fem!reader, mammon x fem!reader, leviathan x fem!reader, satan x fem!reader, asmodeus x fem!reader, beelzebub x fem!reader, belphegor x fem!reader
▹ genre: smut, rut!au
▹ words: 6.6k
▹ rating: nsfw
▹ warnings: mc curses like a sailor and solomon has no filter, lucifer’s had a rough time, a pinch of grinding, mentions of masturbation, hickies, explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, rough sex
▹ notes: tadaa! this took a bit longer than I had originally planned (hence the big gap between the sneak peek and the full release) but I was determined to crank this out for @hornywrath​‘s birthday! hope you enjoy a lil bit of mammon hun, and happy birthday! also, I guess this also counts for a 400 follower milestone, which we hit very recently! thank you all for being here, I hope the wait was worth it ;)
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“Solomon, I’m about ready to fight someone,” you seethed to the sorcerer as you glared up at his ceiling from your comfortable resting spot on top of his bed.
The entire situation was ridiculous. The brothers had been actively avoiding you almost all week, which was annoying enough, but today they had cut off all communication with you entirely. No one came down to breakfast, no one was in any of your shared classes, and no one even bothered to text you so you’d know what the hell was going on. If they were going to give you the cold shoulder the LEAST they could do would be to tell you why.
Instead, you were left to wonder what you had done wrong because surely there was some explanation for their behavior. After a full day of scouring your memory during boring classes (in which there was no one to distract you, unlike usual) you were still drawing a blank on what exactly you had done. 
This only meant one thing: you were 100% innocent in this situation, and the brothers would never live this down if you had anything to say about it.
When you were about halfway back to the House of Lamentation after class your D.D.D. buzzed. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest seeing that the notification was a text from Lucifer. It was the first time any of the brothers had contacted you all day! With any luck, you’d finally get some explanation as to just what was going on, and (if you were lucky) an apology. The second one is highly unlikely given that it was Lucifer who had texted you, but you still had hope. That is, until you opened the message.
After class, immediately go to Purgatory Hall. You will be staying there with the other exchange students until further notice.
A second set of buzzes followed the first, in case one punch to your heart wasn’t enough.
Under no circumstances are you allowed to return to the House of Lamentation without permission.
Excuse you? Were you seriously just told that you weren’t allowed in your own house anymore? Sadly, yes, that seemed to be exactly what had just happened, and Lucifer isn’t the sort of person that you’d argue with about an order.
But come on, you hadn’t even gotten an explanation!
With no other choice, you turned your livid butt around and marched (read: stomped) over to your new home, ready to tell (read: rant to) your fellow exchange students of the injustices you had been served as of late. As if Lady Luck wanted to send an ‘F U’ herself, Solomon was the only one in Purgatory Hall when you arrived. Not the beautiful and benevolent Simeon, or Luke, who you thought of as an angelic younger brother, but Solomon, with a fox’s grin that was far too smug for your liking. And, unfortunately, the smugness only grew as you lamented about how abysmally bad your week had been thus far.
“Oh, y/n,” he said, a teasing coo woven into his tone. Your attention shifted from his incredibly interesting ceiling to his incredibly boring head that he was propping up on his desk with his incredibly boring hand. Solomon may be one of your best friends, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t push your buttons all the damn time. “You’re so naive to the ways of the world.”
“Sorry I’m not a fancy pants magic bitch like you,” you grumbled with no real bite behind your words. Would you believe he then had the audacity to snicker at you? Because that’s exactly what he did. It took all of your strength plus a little extra from the Big Man Upstairs to not clock the white-haired menace into next week. “Solomon, explain to me what’s going on before I do something I won’t regret.”
Ever the fake pacifist, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no need for violence. And, really, it’s your own fault that you don’t know about demon ruts.”
Silence filled the room, leaving you to sit there and drown in it as Solomon seemingly decided the desk itself would make a much more comfortable seat than his chair. With just those few words he had managed to switch your brain from operating on Google Chrome to Internet Explorer, and what is the next thing he does? Perches on his desk like it was normal. 
After some time passed with you buffering and Solomon preening as if he had just been graced by God, you finally managed to spit out, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
More snickering. Try as you might, you couldn’t fight off the blush that had been steadily creeping onto your cheeks, so you instead gave in and decided to find out as much as you could. “You mean, right now, they’re at home—”
“Jacking themselves off on anything of yours that they can get their cummy little demon mitts on? Ding ding ding, you’ve guessed it! Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been in your room already. Having a—” calculating eyes swept your form from head to toe before continuing irritatingly hesitantly, “presumably fertile female so close is akin to torture when they’re rutting, so what remains of your pheromones are probably the only thing they can smell at the moment.”
Taking the high road for once in your little gremlin life, you chose to ignore the ‘presumably fertile’ comment and remained focused on the topic at hand: the brothers were going through a demon rutting period. “That is so unbelievably disgusting and hot at the same time.”
So some of your inner gremlin slipped out, sue you.
Solomon sighed as if he expected nothing more from you, white strands of hair falling onto his face as he pressed it into the palms of his hands. “Leave it to you to be turned on by the suffering of others.”
“Shut it, Solomon, you know what I mean.” Heat flared across your cheeks at the insinuation. You may be many things, but a sadist was not one of them; Lucifer had that title locked down anyway. “Dammit. What do I do, Solomon? Lucifer texted me saying that I can’t go back, so does he really expect me to wear the same clothes for however many days it takes for their ruts to end?”
“Probably. He’s twisted like that. Ooh, what if he’s getting off to the idea that you’re—”
Before you had a chance to cut Solomon off from finishing a sentence that would have undoubtedly mortified you to no end, a series of rapid-fire buzzes from your phone did it for you. You had patted both yourself and the area around you on the bed down thoroughly only for Solomon to dangle your phone in the air. Warning bells sounded off in your head loud and clear the moment you noticed his cheeky grin.
“I think you should put this one on speaker.”
With a flick of his wrist, your phone sailed through the air and landed on the bed next to you after you failed to catch it. Ignoring Solomon’s snort, you flipped your phone over to see who was calling you. The name, along with everything you had just discussed with Solomon, caused your pulse to pound in your ears.
It was Mammon.
Panic ran through your veins like liquid lightning. Should you answer it? There could only be one reason why he would be calling if he was rutting. Warmth shot straight to your core. Deep down, you realize that if he was calling you to ask for help, you’d say yes. Solomon cleared his throat and gestured at your phone, reminding you to answer before you lost your chance. Without hesitation, you answered the call, switching to speakerphone with a pointed glare from the man across from you.
Within seconds, breathy groans rang out from the phone. Your face flushed as you spared a glance at Solomon, who had donned a shit-eating grin, before your attention snapped back to the phone upon hearing Mammon’s voice. “Where are ya, y/n?” he whined. “I need ya so bad.”
Your teeth caught your bottom lip between them. “Lucifer told me not to come back for now, so I’m at Purgatory Hall.”
A string of expletives exploded from the speaker, although they died down as quickly as they started. When Mammon addressed you again, the pleading tone to his voice was in no way subtle. “Please. . . Please come help me, y/n. I need ya.”
“Mammon, babe, are you rutting?” Your eyes widened in horror while Solomon snickered gleefully; the question had fallen out before you could really even think about it. 
You weren’t given much time to worry over it, though, as Mammon answered in confirmation, “Yeah. And everythin’. . . Everythin’ fuckin’ HURTS. It hurts so bad, y/n, please.” Images of some of your succubi and incubi friends flashed through your head. It would probably be best that a demon helped him through his heat. If you helped, you’d likely get hurt. You had just begun to offer to call one of your friends when your words were cut short with a growl. “No, dammit! I only want you! Only you, ya hear me, y/n?”
A milky-white hand clamped firmly against his mouth was the only thing preventing Solomon from alerting Mammon to the fact that you were not the only human hearing him at that moment, and that hand was getting dangerously close to not being enough to save the two of you. The thought of how Mammon would react upon finding the two of you out sent a shiver down your back. You could NOT let that happen.
Executive authority coursed through you as you turned off the speakerphone and brought it up to your ear instead; a curling lick of satisfaction in your chest was the only thing Solomon’s huff of discontent managed to elicit. “Okay, Mammon, I’m on my way.”
A pleased groan answered your words, followed by a click. You blinked a few times, waiting to no avail for anything else— he had hung up on you. Although you’re not quite sure what you expected (some thanks would have been nice) you couldn’t help but to notice how your body seemed to be thrumming with anticipation.
“Oh, you’re on your way, are you? You DO realize that if you go to help one of them you’ll have to help ALL of them, right? So are you stupid? Is that it?” the whirlwind that was Solomon accused, white brows furrowed in total scorn. “And here I was, thinking that you were a creature of intelligence. Oh, how it pains me to be wrong.”
Already on your feet, you pocketed your phone and smoothed out your clothes, ready to head to the House of Lamentation at any moment. After concluding that you were presentable enough to go have a demon rip your clothes off your body— a matter that you had grown incredibly serious about in a somewhat suspiciously short amount of time, as if the thought of being ravaged by the brothers had crossed your mind before— you turned to address the snarky sorcerer in the room. “You heard him, Solomon. He’s in serious pain right now, and he wasn’t going to accept anyone else’s help getting through it.”
“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it,” he said in exasperation. “He’s a DEMON. He’d say whatever he needed to in order to get you there!”
Arguing with him was clearly going to get you nowhere. Instead, you stared down Solomon, daring him to continue trying to change your mind. It was a battle of the minds, and luckily for you, you happened to be one of the most bull-headed humans to ever grace the earth. After what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Solomon relented with a burdened groan.
“Fine, just let me cast a spell on you so you aren’t impregnated and obliterated, for the love of God.” His eyes searched yours imploringly. If you didn’t know any better you’d almost think that he was worried about you, but that would be a ridiculous idea. Still, you agreed, to which he let out a breath of relief.
Without wasting any time he crossed the room and took your hands in his own. Low mutterings in a language you didn’t recognize left his mouth, so you focused on the feeling of his hands; they were surprisingly soft and a bit bigger than you had previously thought.
A faint warmth and a corresponding tingling sensation started at your fingertips and soon encased your entire body, the tingling somehow reassuring as it raised goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Your eyes flitted up to Solomon’s questioningly, only for them to widen in shock— his eyes had gone entirely white and were glowing. Just as you were about to admit that his magic was actually pretty cool, it stopped.
The warmth and tingling disappeared, and Solomon’s eyes blinked back to normal. The only effect of the magic that you could feel was a particular humming sensation in your lower abdomen. That, and you felt like you could take on Diavolo himself and win, but that wasn’t a new feeling; an uncommon one, sure, but definitely not new.
Satisfied with his work, Solomon staggered a few steps backward before flopping onto his bed. “You should be good to go.” He propped himself up on his elbows, fixing you with a squinted stare. “You’re lucky I enjoy our banter, y/n. Can’t let you go and get yourself fucked to death, now can I?”
“God, don’t phrase it like that,” you said in a strangled voice, to which Solomon cackled and dropped onto his back once again. Just when you thought the two of you might have grown closer, he had to go and say something as mortifying as that. With renewed vigor, you scurry out of the room.
Solomon’s silvery voice echoed through the open door behind you. “Like what, the truth?”
He just managed to catch your snort before you walked out of earshot, leaving the sorcerer sprawled out on his bed, his chest heaving in deep breaths of air. The spell he had cast on you had taken quite a bit out of him. Now, he struggled to even keep his eyes open as waves of sleep crashed over him.
Would it normally take this much energy to prepare a human body for a demon rut? He supposed not, although it wasn’t exactly something he did except on the rare occasion, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wouldn’t just be dealing with one demon. There was something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Ah, well, it was sure to come to him after he had rested up again. The comforting blanket of sleep settled over him, as well as his own blankets after he slipped under their covers. Right before he entered dreamland, the vision of a glowing pact mark appeared in his mind. His eyebrows knitted together; was this a premonition?
However, the mark was soon swallowed up by the foggy mist of his mind, and Solomon drifted off to sleep. 
x x x x x
Never before had you gotten to the House of Lamentation faster than you did today. Just going home wasn’t nearly the same level of motivation as going to get some demon dick, so you hauled ass in record time, weaving in and out of random pedestrians you encountered that were walking the paths around the Devildom. Your friends really were right: you had no hope of making it into heaven. The worst part is, they had no clue whatsoever how true that statement was.
You came to a halt in front of the dorm you had recently come to call home, your hands on your knees as you struggled to regain your breath. It took everything you had not to just collapse into a weary heap on the front steps, but the promise of what was to come was enough to keep you going. Instead, you took a minute to steady your breathing before climbing the steps and slipping into the house. Technically, Lucifer had forbidden you from coming home, so it would probably be best to not alert him to your unwanted presence.
Thankfully, you had plenty of practice tip-toeing around from all of the times you’d snuck out with Asmo to go clubbing. Lucifer would never know you were there.
As you snuck past the kitchen toward the hallway of bedrooms, the sound of the tap turning on freeze you in your tracks. With your heart in your throat, you slowly twisted your head toward the direction of the sound, hoping from the bottom of your sin-stained heart that the person responsible wasn’t who you thought it was.
There, his bare back hunched over the sink with a glass of water clenched tightly in his degloved hand, stood Lucifer. Although the mere presence of the man had you rattled, what he was wearing— or rather, what he WASN’T wearing— made you even more so. He had donned a pair of baggy grey sweatpants that rested low on his hips and had lost the rest, leaving little to be imagined. Little to be imagined of HIM, that is— the sight sparked plenty of thoughts on your part. 
The temptation to slink away to Mammon before you were discovered was great, but the temptation of marveling this new side of Lucifer was greater; you steeled yourself and moved toward him.
His rut seemed to have taken quite the toll on him already, as his usually well-kept hair was now disheveled and somewhat damp as if he had just recently gotten out of the shower. A shiver ran down your spine as the image of Lucifer in his shower was plastered to the forefront of your mind. With much thanks to your abysmally short attention span, the thought was easily discarded when you noticed that his muscles rippled along his back with each movement he took: emptying his glass; placing it back down on the counter; pushing his hair back.
Even as he turned around and realized someone had joined him in the kitchen, you couldn’t find it in yourself to run for cover. Maybe you’d screwed up your survival instincts at some point?
“y/n?” Lucifer croaked, his gaze predatory as it raked down your form. Something akin to a harrowed smirk cracked across his face when you shivered at the intensity radiating off of him, yet it was soon replaced with a pained grimace. His hands clenched the edge of the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles were white as he ripped his gaze away from you. “I believe I explicitly told you not to return here until you received further instruction. You disobeyed me.”
You’d be lying if you said that the commanding growl in his words didn’t turn you on. Hell, if anyone told YOU that you’d just laugh in their face because damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. Not to mention the electrifying effect it had on your body; it was as if every fiber of your being was on edge right now, acutely aware of every single thing that Lucifer said or did.
You found yourself longing to press your body up onto his, to entangle your hands in his already messy hair and mesh your lips together while you hook one of your legs around his waist to keep him close as he slams you up against the counter—
The purposeful clearing of his throat snapped you out of your imagination. It’s odd for you to have become so withdrawn from reality, but you just chalked it up to it being a side effect from whatever spell Solomon had cast on you. Anyway, Lucifer had asked you a question, and while it may not have been the smartest decision in the long run, you were in no mental state to be pulling lies out of your ass. “Mammon asked me to come over and help him.”
“Oh really? So you’ve discovered our dirty little secret, but still came?” he hummed in thought, more to himself than to you. Some switch must have flipped in him as he had gone from very obviously holding himself back to slowly stalking toward you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. It was at that moment that your survival instincts kicked in and you took two small steps back for every one Lucifer took forward. Sadly, you seemed to have walked further into the kitchen than you had originally thought you did and soon found yourself pressed along the center table with nowhere else to run from the demon in front of you.
A pink tongue darted out from his mouth, wetting the bottom lip that it dragged along. Lucifer had you right where he wanted you. It took a total of three steps for him to close the gap between you two, his arms resting on either side of you to cage you in. Desire flickered in his half-lidded eyes as he stared you down. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?”
You hummed in response, too fixated on how alluring his slightly-parted, flushed lips looked. Due to your intense focus on said lips, you didn’t miss how the corners of his mouth quirked up before he leaned forward and out of your sight. Your breath caught in your throat as his heated breath fanned out across your neck while he spoke. “You’re lucky that you ran into myself and not one of my brothers. Unlike them,” his hips met yours and instantly began to slowly roll, “I can control myself.”
The hardness of his length and the waver in his tone seemed to suggest otherwise. 
A devious thought pushed itself to the forefront of your mind, one that you were all too willing to go along with. One of your hands ghosted down his chest, your nails lightly scratching his pale skin while the other snaked upward and caressed his cheek. Lucifer shuddered into your touch and bit back a quiet groan, his hips grinding against yours with a tad more urgency.
“What happened to being able to control yourself?” you asked breathily. With any luck, you’d be able to get his self-control to snap and he’d take you right then and there. Your thighs tensed slightly as heat shot to your core at the thought.
Then he pulled away and your entire mastermind plan came crashing down.
Lucifer stumbled backward, fingers pinching his nose tightly shut as he glared holes into the ground. Wait, do you smell or something? You could’ve sworn you had put deodorant on that morning. A discreet sniff of yourself reassured you that you did not stink, so why the abrupt stop?
“I believe that you should find Mammon in your room.” He staggered backward with urgency; so much so that he would have clipped his side on the counter had you not warned him. Pink dusted his cheeks for a moment as he cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed from not noticing the counter. Your bemusement was cut short, however, when he fixed you with a piercing look that sent shivers down your back. “I expect to see you in my room once you are finished.”
Unable to stop yourself, you quipped back, “I’ll think about it.”
“By all means, do,” he purred, red eyes narrowing into seductive slits. Even as he backed out of the room, sweat beads beginning to glisten on his forehead, he somehow still made you want to do nothing more than hand yourself over to him completely. “But let me assure you that the actual thing will be so much more enjoyable than whatever you end up imagining.”
With that, he was gone, and you were left with nothing but yourself and your newfound neediness. You had half a mind to chase after the first-born, but the other half of your mind was insisting that you go to Mammon, as he was the one who had called you in the first place. With a small sigh, you headed off down the hallway toward your room. It was a short walk, as per usual, but the anticipation that had once again began to swirl in your stomach lengthened it a good bit.
What, exactly, did helping a demon through their rut entail? You assumed that they needed help finishing, but was that it? Of course, you’d help the brothers out with anything, ESPECIALLY if they were in pain because of it, but it was a little unnerving not knowing exactly what you had gotten yourself into. Thank God that Solomon had been there to help cast a spell on you (which you still had no clue what it did, but you trusted him enough to believe that you’d be fine) because, now that you’ve had some more time to think about it, there was no way you’d be able to walk away from this little excursion of yours unscathed.
You hesitated outside of your partially opened door for just a moment before stepping inside and locking the door behind you. As you turned around to once again face the rest of your room, quiet huffing and groaning alerted you of the demon in the room with you.
The sight that blessed your eyes ignited a white-hot fire in your core.
Mammon was sprawled out buck-naked on your bed, your sheets and comforter rumpled enough to lead you to assume that he had been wriggling around on them for a while. As a surprise to no one, your eyes immediately zeroed in on his hand— namely, how said hand was loosely wrapped around his length and lightly jerking it. His caramel skin glistened under a sheen layer of sweat from his exertions, and his head was tipped back against your pillow as he chased a semblance of relief.
You mindlessly take a few steps toward the sight. Had he not noticed you were in the room yet? Considering how tightly his eyes were screwed shut and how his breathing was getting progressively louder, it wasn’t impossible.
“Mammon?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if you should be interrupting or not. Although, he had called you specifically to help him with this exact thing, so maybe you were worrying about nothing.
His eyes snapped wide open the moment his name came out of your mouth; he really hadn’t heard you enter then. A shuddering inhale shook his form for a moment before he pushed himself up to a seated position and said in disbelief, “You really came.”
As if you could ignore his phone call. You rolled your eyes as you finished closing the gap between the two of you, your hands lifting to cup Mammon’s warm cheeks. “I said I would, didn’t I?” Unintelligible mumbling followed that you silenced by pressing your thumb against his lips. “What do you want me to do?”
Without a word, Mammon’s hands gripped your waist and guided you onto his lap, your knees on either side of him. His hot mouth instantly found your neck, the feeling of his hasty kisses and the occasional nip stealing your breath away. Not staying in one place too long, the kisses quickly trailed their way down toward your collarbone, only for the fabric of your shirt to get in the way. Aside from his annoyed grumbling, Mammon didn’t make any comments about it and simply tugged at your shirt, wordlessly asking you to take it off.
Of course you complied (because why would you not?) and freed yourself from the now-restrictive fabric. No sooner had you wriggled out of your top than had Mammon’s hands begun to roam all over your body, almost as if he was attempting to commit your form to memory. 
Everywhere his hands went brought a tingling sensation to your skin. Eventually, one dipped low enough to fiddle with the band of your shorts, although it didn’t go any farther than that. As great as the makeout session was, a growing firmness pressing along the inside of your thigh and the unsteadiness of his touch reminded you of exactly why you were called in the first place.
“Mammon,” you tried, but your words fell on deaf ears as Mammon was too lost in the feeling and taste and touch of you to even register that you had spoken. Fog rolled across your mind as he found a particularly sensitive spot and capitalized on it, teeth gently scraping against the skin which was immediately followed by a soothing swipe of his tongue. Still, you found it somewhere within you to try again. “Mammon, wait.”
“Hm?” His lips buzzed pleasantly against your neck, eyes turning up toward your own.
Your stomach flipped at the sheer want pooling in their golden ichor. “I’m here to help you with your rut, but right now I feel more like we’re focusing on me.”
“Of course I’m focusin’ on you,” he harrumphed, a look of embarrassment shading his features. “You’re a human! There’s no way you’d be able to jump right on in without gettin’ hurt, so I’m… I’m tryin’ to warm you up a bit.”
You chuckled, running a hand through his hair reassuringly. “That’s awful sweet of you, babe, but I’m seriously fine. Solomon hooked me up with some magic before I came over, so I’m all set.”
His grip on your hips tightened at the mention of the sorcerer, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, his hands jumped from your hips to your shoulders, flipping you onto the bed with Mammon positioned between your legs. You’d never noticed it before, but his canines were slightly more pointed than a human’s; they’re all you focused on when a smirk crept onto his features. “You should’ve said somethin’ sooner.”
If before had been the warm-up, then the main event was the warm-up times ten. Your mouths crashed together, and you found yourself fighting to stay caught up with Mammon’s urgent pace. The bed creaked underneath the two of you as Mammon rushed to get the rest of your clothes off. It was impressive how he managed to slide off your shorts without breaking away from you, but you weren’t allowed to dwell on that thought for very long at all.
“You’re sure about this?” His breathless question warmed your heart. Even now, as his legs trembled with the discomfort he was surely in and his gaze grew hazy, he had the decency to make sure that you were sure. You hadn’t faltered from your original commitment once, but now you were certain you had made the right choice.
A cheeky grin split across your face. “I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.”
No sooner had you gotten the words out than had Mammon’s cock shoved its way through your entrance, his hips pressing flush against your own. The burning feeling of your walls stretching to take him in so suddenly proved too much to handle, your body arching into his own as a gasping whine tore from your lips.
For a moment— just a moment— he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his size. One of his hands hooked underneath your knee and pulled it closer to your side so he could get a better angle. A shot of pleasure ran through you as the repositioning briefly caused your muscles clenched around him. Seeing the shudder rack your form, Mammon rolled his hips into yours. Your head tipped back at the feeling of his swollen length dragging against your walls, and he wasted no time in leaving blossoms of orchid and rouge along the now-exposed column of your neck.
As your eyes rolled back at the feeling, you missed how he shifted above you, gripping the head of your headboard with his other hand for support. You didn’t miss how his hips pulled back and thrust up into you, nor did you miss how each thrust following that was just as strong.
Unrestrained sounds fell from your open mouth as Mammon launched into an aggressive pace that left you scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders or back so you wouldn’t hit your headboard. The moment your hands bumped into something protruding from his back, your eyes flew open to search for what exactly you had just touched. 
At some point, Mammon must have shifted to his demon form, as his wings were currently curling over the two of you almost like some sort of shield. Your legs squeezed together at the sight, allowing Mammon’s next thrusts to find your g-spot. 
“Fuck, Ma-Mammon,” you cursed, the demon on top of you growling lowly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned before pressing a firm kiss along your jaw. “You’re doin’ so good for me, y/n.”
You answered with a keening moan, as you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to articulate any more actual words— not while Mammon kept plowing into you at this speed, anyway. Tension coiled tightly in your abdomen, each thrust drawing you closer and closer to your peak. You couldn’t tell how close Mammon was, but with as ragged as his panting was growing, you assumed he wasn’t all that far behind you.
With every passing moment, your body grew more and more flush with heat and your moans increased in volume, which Mammon encouraged with more whispered praise. One particularly strong smack of his hips against yours triggered the release of a loud whine from your throat, and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “Just like that, sweetheart.” His lips brushed tantalizingly against your ear, making sure that you heard him over yourself. “Let ‘em all know who’s makin’ you feel this good.”
A few more solid thrusts were all it took to make you unravel, your toes curling and your body arching into Mammon at the utter bliss engulfing you entirely. 
“Mammon!” you wailed, all other words escaping you as stars danced behind your eyes. Your walls clenching down on him pushed Mammon over the edge as well, his hips stuttering before pressing as deep inside of you as he could, release spilling into your throbbing core. A groan tumbled from his lips as his teeth sunk into the crook of your neck, the sharp stinging drawing a soft whine from yourself.
After a few moments of deepening his mark, Mammon flopped onto his back and rolled you on top of him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body to gently hold you against him. The bliss from orgasming was now wearing off and was being replaced with exhaustion. Tension seeped out of you in waves as you relaxed against Mammon’s heaving chest, his skin cool against your warm cheek.
Laughter soon met your ears, and the shaking body beneath you made it pretty obvious who it was coming from. Drowsily, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position and let Mammon slip himself out of you while you threw an inquisitive look his way. The eyes that met your own were no longer ones of a demon in rut, but ones filled with total admiration. “What are you laughing about?”
“You,” he answered simply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear while his other hand rested loosely on your bare hip.
Your heart fluttered at that, but you played it off with a small smile and a tiny slap against his chest. “Why are you being so cheesy?”
He said nothing, only answering with another laugh as he leaned forward to pepper your face with soft kisses. His laughter turned out to be infectious as you, too, began to laugh, leaving the two of you giggling into each others’ mouths before he pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. “I’m just so happy you actually came, y/n.”
“Me too, I was starting to get worried there for a bit,” you snarked, the teasing lilt evident in your tone. Mammon scoffed at playfully rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. 
“Sure fooled me. You sure sounded like you were enjoying yourself.” Now it was your turn to fake being offended; you gasped indignantly before turning your head away in a fake pout.
“With this much disrespect, maybe I’ll just show myself out.” 
“Woah there, let’s not be too hasty.” A thumb and forefinger grip your chin and turn your head back toward Mammon, who had a peculiar twinkle in his eye. It was something warm and knowing and light, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. The odd look didn’t leave when he pulled you against his chest for what felt like the hundredth time that day, nor did it leave when you tangled yourselves up in the other while you cuddled, just taking time to soak the other in.
Eventually, Mammon gave himself over to sleep, his light snores rumbling softly against the side of your neck as he unconsciously wriggled himself impossibly closer into you. You were just about to as well until two short sets of buzzes caught your attention.
Twisting around carefully in Mammon’s arms, you were just able to see your D.D.D. flicking off again after receiving the messages. Luckily, your shorts had ended up getting thrown onto your nightstand, so it wasn’t too much of a challenge to snag your D.D.D. from your back pocket without waking up the sleeping demon latched on to you.
Flicking it open, you saw that the messages had come from Levi.
come over please. I know your with mammon right now
I need help too y/n, please
You cast a glance over your shoulder at the said demon, guilt gnawing at your heart as memories resurfaced of how sweet he had been earlier; however, those memories were soon replaced with ones of Lucifer, disheveled and leaning into your touch, and of Solomon, warning you that you’d end up helping all of the brothers out. With a sigh, you tapped a quick reply to Levi that you were on your way and eased yourself out of Mammon’s arms.
As you got to your feet, you were surprised to find that you weren’t sore in the slightest, despite how rough Mammon had been. Solomon’s magic really was no joke. It didn’t take you long to slip back into your clothes (granted, you didn’t bother putting your bra and underwear back on because you’d just be taking them off again) and you soon found yourself staring down at Mammon.
You were still guilty about running off to go fuck his younger brother while he was sleeping, but at the same time, you’d feel even more guilty about only helping one brother and leaving the other six to deal with their ruts by themselves. Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, you finally steel yourself and commit to your decision, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before turning around and marching yourself straight out of your door. You don’t look back, because you know that if you do, the rest of the brothers would end up suffering through their ruts alone.
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downfordiluc · 3 years ago
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Kaeya x F Reader One Shot. [Modern AU].
Warning // Explicit Language. No Smut, only fluff.
Synopsis: a night filled with alcohol, dancing and feelings. 
If you rubbed your eyes one more time, you feared they may disappear inside of your skull. The display on your laptop was beginning to sear your retinas, as you watched the clock tick over to 11:30 pm. You should have left work hours ago. Having a hardass for a boss had wasn't something really had any benefits to it, other than the sizeable paycheck you took home after a long week's work; often going ten or twenty hours over your actually scheduled nine to five days.
Being able to finally click save and close the torture machine in front of you was something that you spent every working moment impatiently waiting for, and the satisfaction you got from knowing you could finally go and slump into your bedsheets was something that never really lost its novelty. And yet, tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights.
"Wanna go cause some trouble?"
You looked up blearily at the voice, seeing a tall, tan figure leaning against your doorway, one hand on his hip, and the other in his pocket. The smirk on his lips was one that you couldn't get enough of, but you'd never admit it. You'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
"It's almost midnight, Kaeya." you remarked, as you shrugged your leather jacket onto your shoulders. Despite the protest in your tone, you had basically already succumbed to his plans before even hearing them, as you collected your belongings that were spread over your desk. "And so the night is only young, [Y/N], whaddya say?". This man knew he was born with a silver tongue, and had the power to persuade even the most stubborn to follow his every command. You knew this, and yet you fell victim every damn time.
"Where are we going?", you practically had a white flag waving above your head, as you walked through the door he held open, and yet you weren't fooled - Kaeya was no gentleman. He was a sweet talker, and he played the field like it was second nature to him. Life was like a game of chess, except he was always 5 moves ahead, taking piece after piece off of the board. Women were the pawns.
"Diluc's club, he pissed me off yesterday, and if my memory serves, you're not best pleased with him either.", he looked as though his plan had fallen into place, and yet it had one fatal flaw. "So your plan for revenge, is to financially provide for him by drinking in his club?". You felt as though you had his king in check - winning the game of chess - and might actually get to go home for the night. Yet that stupid smirk returned, and you instantly dropped the glimmer of hope you had grasped onto. "Money is simply an object to him, you know this. But just imagine the look on his face if he saw us both having the time of our goddamn lives, huh?". You hated to admit it, but to see that exact face you were now picturing was an opportunity you would not pass up, even if you hadn't slept for a week.
The night was bitter, biting at your cheeks as you walked down the cobblestoned alleys. No matter how much you pulled at your thin jacket for warmth, it simply wasn't the right choice of attire for the middle of February. "I know a way to warm you up." the man to your right quipped, and you instinctually glared up at him, seeing a saccharine sweet smile upon his face. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, refusing to step into the trap that was his syrupy gaze. You knew better.
"Vodka".
You heard him chuckle at your blunt response. A soft, breathy laugh that could melt ice, and the heat that rose to your cheeks was welcoming, considering the harsh winds that felt like icicles piercing your skin. He really did have a way to make women putty in his hands, and you had never been more glad you considered yourself above that, considering you were about to get absolutely shit-faced together.
One shot turned to two, and two turned to three, as you bottomed the foul liquid, and slammed each glass onto the table with a loud clink. You hadn't done this in a while, and it had been even longer since you had done it with another person. Drinking alone was usually your style, which now you realised was actually quite sad.
"Slow down, darlin', they'll run out if you aren't careful.", he had absolutely no right to be using words like that, and even less right to witness the colour that lit your cheeks alight. Suddenly, staring at the marble bar seemed a lot more interesting.
"Mind your own business, Alberich. You said you wanted to have fun, this is how I have fun.". You knew full well the worse was yet to come. They say everyone has a second personality when they're drunk, and yours enjoyed partying like the world was going to end tomorrow. You noticed he was nursing his whiskey, and frowned at him, tilting your head to the side and resting it on your fist.
"Didn't take you to be a lightweight." you smiled devilishly into your words, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise, you could practically see him recoil as though you had smacked him in the face. "Someone's gotta be able to walk to take you home.". The laugh you let out in response was a hearty, full one. Something you hadn't done in a while. You pushed at his shoulder, mocking him further. "Let go, have fun! Worst case scenario, we sleep on the floor. I never took you to be the boring one, Kaeya."
Enough was enough, he raised his glass and allowed the burning liquid to slip down his throat. He pulled a face before his glass made the same clink that your shots had been making for the past hour. "It's on, darlin."
"Two more shots over here, dear brother." You had almost forgotten why you came tonight, as you saw the redhead's brows almost touch, frowning as he had no choice but to stop ignoring the two of you, which he had been trying to do since you strutted into his club.
"And two for me!" You giggled into your words, as he gave you a look that you had never seen on his face. "I like your style, [Y/N]". His voice was lower than usual, probably from the assault on his throat the whiskey had enacted, but you had to admit, it sounded good that way. Too good, judging by the butterflies kicking up a fuss in your stomach. You decided to simply drown them in alcohol, as Diluc slid the drinks across to you without even muttering a word.
You must have had seven or eight shots of vodka by now, and at this point, Kaeya wasn't far behind, his jacket and tie discarded over the back of his stool, as well as two buttons on his shirt being undone. A deep v of tan skin practically begging you to stare. You had similarly discarded your jacket behind you, the alcohol flooding through your veins being what you attributed your rising body temperature to. You didn't even seem to care that all you had on was a lowcut, white tank top, which definitely left a lot less to the imagination than intended. Hopefully, the lighting was low enough that he didn't notice the lace of your bra creating lines under the thin fabric.
"Ahh, I love this song."
You didn't even seem in control of the words leaving your mouth, as a low, smooth beat filled the air around you. This song was one that you would definitely dance to in private, or if you weren't absolutely wasted. Before you even fully acknowledged what you were doing, you had climbed onto the surface in front of you and were gyrating your hips in a way that you wouldn't be caught dead doing sober. Vodka really lowered your inhibitions, a fact which was clearly evident to Kaeya, who couldn't help but stare as your hands worked their way down your body, slowly moving along to the music. He wasn't the only one staring. Pretty much the whole club was watching you let loose on the bar, ogling your figure and looking you up and down like meat on a stick. Diluc, however, could not have looked less impressed if he tried.
"[Y/N], get down from there. Everyone is staring.", Kaeya seemed almost possessive, as he extended his arm to you, trying to convince you to come down, and yet, you hadn't felt this free in a while. "You come up here! Dance with me, darlin'.". He seemed flushed at you using his words against him, but his stance didn't falter, as he kept insisting you come down from the bar. For a change, him and Diluc actually agreed on something.
"You're going to fall, [Y/N]."
"Then catch me, Prince Charming."
Your words were slurred, and it was clearly evident that you were inebriated beyond any point of logic, so Kaeya decided to take things into his own hands. He grabbed at your wrist and lightly pulled, expecting you to get the message, and finally come down. Definitely not expecting you to topple like a domino.
As your brain stopped feeling like it had just been scrambled, you noticed Kaeya's face only inches away from yours, before acknowledging that your body was pressed against his own. You'd actually fallen, holy shit, you were wasted. And yet, he had caught you. Prince Charming had really saved you - how ironic. His strong, defined muscles against your body were significantly more welcoming than the floor, that was for sure. If you weren't already completely certain that you had had more than enough to drink, you were once you caught yourself speaking.
"How about we take this somewhere more private, handsome?". You would be kicking yourself for those words once your blood stopped being what felt like 99% alcohol, and yet right now, you were biting your lip, looking up at him, barely noticing the flush under his tanned skin.
"How about we take you home?" was his response, as he tried to put you onto the floor, your legs buckling, as you sink to his knees. He sighed in defeat, tucking both of your jackets over his shoulder, and pulling you back up to cradle in his arms, using the warmth of his blazer as a pillow as you rested onto his shoulder. Maybe you were the lightweight, after all.
During the walk home, you hardly noticed the cold, between how hot the alcohol had you, and the warmth of his body heat pressed against yours. You barely acknowledged the journey ending until you felt the familiar softness of your bed under your warm body. Instinctively, you curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow, and kicking your shoes off of the side of the sheets.
"Goodnight, [Y/N]. I had fun with you tonight." Despite your vision being blurry, you could tell he was leaned against the wall the exact same way he had been hours ago at work, and you reached for his arm, tugging on his sleeve.
"Stay with me, Kaeya. Please.", you could feel yourself slowly sobering up, as your thoughts became less cloudy and your feelings becoming more lucid, and all you wanted was for him to stay by your side. Nothing sexual about it, you just wanted to feel his body heat radiating against yours as you slipped into slumber. You felt as though you could see the wanting in his eyes also, but his words begged to differ.
"I'll be on the couch." his reply left you feeling downcast, however, this was short-lived as you felt his lips lightly kiss you on the forehead, leaving the spot they had been tingling and prickling with heat. You were comforted knowing he would be there in any capacity, and that was the thought that nursed you to sleep pretending the pillow in your arms was the man who had caught you not long ago.  You knew that you had caught feelings for him in turn. Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all? Maybe he could be your knight in shining armor. The one to keep you company on what would be a lonely night drinking, and the one to hold you tight as your head pounded into the early hours of the morning. Anything would be good, as long as he was there.
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keelywolfe · 4 years ago
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FIC: Drifters ch.1 (spicyhoney)
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Summary:  When Red came to Edge and told him he needed to show him something in Alphys's lab, this was not what he had in mind.
Notes: Lots of people seemed to like the idea, so heck, I am expanding on it. Thank you everyone for your interest, it drives my mental writing machine. 😊
Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones
Read it on AO3
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Read it here!
~~*~~
Edge clutched the little bundle in his arms closer as he slogged through the snowdrifts. A thin, unhappy wail rose from the tightly wrapped blanket, a tiny waft of vapor rising with it. Edge could only hold the baby tighter, vainly trying to silence the child before their cries carried.
Uselessly. He could already hear the guards behind him, a rabble of snarling and incoherent threats mingled with large bodies crashing through the low-lying frostbitten shrubs and branches of Snowdin wood. Edge ducked behind a tree trunk, crouching, already braced for the near-euphoric rush brought by a large increase in EXP. There could be no survivors, none to follow them.
He waited and didn’t bother trying to silence the baby again, let her wavering shrieks lead the way into an attack that he never had to send. Even as the first few came into view, they fell to the ground shrieking, clawing at their very skin. A Check showed KR shearing away their HP, gouging away chunks as their screams overshadowed the child’s wails.
He didn’t wait to watch them dust. From behind him came a familiar voice, weary and ragged, “keep going, bro, we’re almost there.”
Almost there. Edge got back to his feet, stumbling as his knees nearly gave out. He caught himself in time, leaning against the tree trunk to catch his balance. There was no time to waste, none at all, and still he took a moment to tuck the blanket back around the baby where one tiny fist had worked its way loose to flail in the cold.
“Easy, little one,” he crooned, hardly recognizing his own hoarse voice. “We’re almost there. We’ll be safe soon, I promise you.” He didn’t look down into those pale eye lights, distantly afraid that the child would see the lie on his face. He started walking again in the direction of the cave where their machine was hidden away from any prying eyes. His brother started out at his heels, the snow drifts should have given him more trouble simply based on his height, but Red soon outdistanced him, clearing a path for Edge to stumble along even as the child’s cries grew weaker in the cold.
Almost there, to the machine, to the portal, and to Underswap.
Red was already clearing away the carefully placed barricade around the entrance to the cave. It looked as if an avalanche covered it, but there was a certain place where the snow and stones were thin, barely large enough for a broad skeleton and his tall brother to make it through. Edge helped him as best he could with only one free hand, for once carelessly scattering stone and slush, taking no pains to hide their path. It didn’t matter, they wouldn’t be coming back here again.
Edge tried not to think of everything they were leaving behind at their house. A tattered old book, a ridiculous pet rock, a sock and its collection of threatening notes. None of that was as important as their lives. As her life.
Red cleared the last of the rubble away and gestured towards the entrance. “g’wan, bro, you first.”
Normally, he would have refused. He was far better equipped to take a dishonorable blow to the back than Red was, and he could tell at a glance that his brother’s magic reserves were running far too low for any of his shortcuts.
But there wasn’t time for an argument. He cradled the child close to his chest as he crawled through the small opening. Inside, the cave opened up and he walked unsteadily towards the blinking colored lights that shone through darkness to the far back, where the machine loomed silently, waiting.
Edge didn’t look at his brother while he set the coordinates, ones that he knew as well as his own callused soul. He didn’t watch Red going through what he’d gleefully dubbed the ‘oh, shit’ protocols when he’d set them up, arming the explosives that were already set. They’d always known it might come to this; it was one of the reasons they’d moved the machine out of their basement to begin with. The only question was which side of the portal they would be on when it happened.
A last tap on the controls and Edge pressed the red button, watching as the black, depthless vortex swirled into sight, shimmering with same mysterious power as it always had. Red dusted off his hands, climbing to his feet with a grunt as he walked over to where Edge was standing. In his arms, the child’s whimpers faded in querulous little sounds as she sucked on her tiny fingers, staring up at him with wide, pale eye lights. As insignificant as her weight was, his arm was beginning to ache from holding her.
Red gave him a nudge in the femur with one elbow, digging painfully into the bone. “let’s go, boss.”
“No,” Edge said decisively even as he strode forward. “Not Boss, not any longer.”
Red only shrugged and followed him. “whatever you say, bro.”
The last thing he heard as he stepped through the portal was the soft click of his brother’s thumb on the detonator.
On the other side, from icy cave into a tidy basement, there was no sign that the explosives had done their work. Not so much as a tremor came through and the portal faded away as it always did. But when Red logged the coordinates to their world into the machine, it came up with the message ‘not found’.
It was enough. It would have to be.
Edge took a moment to catch his breath, closing his sockets and listening to the stillness of the basement, of the little gurgling, pleading cries from the child, of his brother’s sneakers on the cement floor. Then he went up the stairs and braced himself to go back out into the freezing cold after the relatively mild chill of the basement.
The path around the house to the front door was shoveled clear, with no traps or signs warning that trespassers could fuck off, one of Red’s charming additions to their home defenses. No, not home, not any longer, he couldn’t think about that right now. He let his feet carry them to the front porch where he rapped firmly on the door beneath the twinkling lights.
It opened and there wasn’t enough left in Edge for even a fraction of surprise that Stretch answered it for once, his lanky frame all but sprawled against the door jamb as he leaned out. The relief at seeing him left Edge nearly weak; all his reserves had been used up getting them this far and now that salvation was in sight, his will was beginning to waver.
That face, like and unlike his own, the sight of which often left Edge torn between snarling into it and kissing that pretty mouth where so many sly insults were offered with painful accuracy. Edge had done both, sometimes only seconds apart as they rolled around on the bare mattress that Stretch called a bed, and he still couldn’t say which he preferred. When it came to Stretch, there was little in the way of answers as to how Edge felt about him, but there was at least one he knew for certain.
Stretch would never let anyone hurt a child.
Whatever greeting he’d been about to offer- depending on his mood, it could be flirtatious, antagonistic, or perhaps even a truly awful pun— died unspoken as Stretch’s gaze dropped to the baby, who was by now whimpering in his arms. His sockets went incredulously wide, his eye lights narrowing into pinpricks of white, his mouth working soundlessly as he stared.
“is that a fucking baby?” he said finally.
“good guess, dumbass,” Red snorted, stamping the snow off his shoes. “puttin’ that phd of yours to good use.”
“Don’t swear,” Edge said automatically. “Can we please come inside?” Normally, the cold wouldn’t have bothered him so much but with his magic depleted, he was starting to shiver, unconsciously clutching the warm bundle closer until the child babbled a complaint.
Stretch nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get out of their way, yanking the door all the way open. “yeah, yeah, sure, fu—udgcicles, jumped up jiminy gyftmas, yes, get in here!”
On any other day, he would never have considered stepping onto the carpet without removing his boots. Today Edge could only stagger to the sofa, collapsing down on the cushion and staring dully at the footprints of melting snow that he’d left across the carpet.
He could hear Stretch speaking, demanding answers from him and Red as he slammed the door shut, but he was too weary to answer. He settled a hand on the baby’s chest, let her grasp his chilled fingers in her little hands as he let his head wearily drop back on the sofa cushions, soaking in the first beginning trickles of warmth that he’d felt since he’d made his mad dash from Hotland, leaving the smoldering wreck of the lab behind him.
The baby was finding no satisfaction from gnawing on his fingertips and as her cries increased in urgency, Edge could only lay on that ratty old sofa and wonder at what the hell he was going to do now.
tbc
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fictionwordcounts · 3 years ago
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Stuck [Han x Solo]
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Word Count: 3000+
Summary: You knew you were looking for trouble when you accepted Han’s request for a quick flight, but you couldn’t have imagined a worse scenario than being stuck in the middle of nowhere with him. Still, the time you spend with him, forced or not, just might lead to something.
You hurried with a search-and-rescue team toward Hangar Five after receiving an urgent message from Han Solo. Since Han had specifically requested for you, they allowed you to lead the team. When you reached the door to Hangar Five, you typed in the code, the door opened, and you ran inside to see Han cleaning the outside of his ship, the Millennium Falcon. He looked up from the spot he was shining and smiled.
"Chewie, come out here! Our help has arrived," he announced as he put his rag away. The search and rescue team shifted behind you and you heard murmurs of disapproval.
Lando, who had insisted that he come along, walked to the front. "What's this about? We don't have time for your shenanigans, Han," he said with overtones of disapproval.
Han walked up to the group and put his hands up defensively. "I wouldn't exactly call them shenanigans, Lando," he said. "More like creative ways to get the help I need."
From your spectator's position, you rolled your eyes. Han was always pulling stunts like this, and it annoyed you to death. However, occasionally, there was something about him made you want to laugh. Of course, you never did. You felt it was against your character. There was some unspoken promise to yourself that you would not encourage Han Solo.
"General Solo," you began.
Han rolled his eyes. "Please, none of that 'General' junk," he pleaded, shaking his head, and offering you a mischievous smile. He stopped and performed an exaggerated a bow. "The name's Han Solo... or just Han if you like."
You stared at him unimpressed. "Yes, we've met, Han," you reminded him through gritted teeth. "We're here because you sent us a message saying that you were in danger."
"Whoa, wait. Hold on. I never said I was in danger," he insisted, never losing his smile. You would've told him off right there in front of everyone, but Lando beat you to it.
"Han, what did you call us here for?" Lando repeated. By then, most of the rescue patrol had become fed up with Han. They'd all either left or stuck around to see who would hit him first.
"Look, I didn't ask for a whole search and rescue gig," Han replied. "I asked," He took the rag back out of his pocket and pointed it at you, "for Y/N." He walked back to his ship and started wiping down the same spot.
Lando and the rest of the team walked away, muttering under their breaths, and you were about to follow suit.
"Y/N!" You heard Han call you from behind. Nearly everything in you told you to just walk away; but, be it the tone in his voice or the desire for the satisfaction of slapping him across the face, something made you turn around.
You folded your arms over your chest. "Do you need something?" you asked, exasperated.
Han nodded as if it was obvious. "Come on," he instructed. You hesitantly walked up to the Falcon. You stood there for a while and watched Han shine the same spot over and over again.
"I'm pretty sure that spot is clean now," you pointed out in monotone.
He stared at you. "What are you doing standing there?" he questioned.
Your arms dropped to your sides. "You called me over here, Han," you would've laughed if you weren't so annoyed. "Did you call me here for anything at all? Or were you so busy drooling over the Falcon that you forgot?"
He laughed and your traitorous heart skipped a beat. You scolded yourself inwardly. You were supposed to hate him, but on rare occasions like these it seemed impossible. "Calm down," he instructed. He walked under the Falcon and started up the ramp. He stopped, turned around, and held out his hand. "I'll show you."
You sighed and pushed his hand away. "I know how to walk up a ramp." You walked ahead of Han and into the Falcon. He smiled and followed you in. You wandered around, Han following close behind. "You brought me in here to see this piece of junk?" you asked, only halfway joking.
"The Falcon is the fastest ship in the galaxy." Han bragged defensively. "That is if the hyperdrive is working... Chewie!" You heard a growling in the distance. "Waddya you mean it's not fixed yet?" Han repeated. He started to jog off to help Chewbacca but turned back to you. "Just don't touch anything," he ordered before going off to help Chewbacca.
You navigated the halls aimlessly until you found what looked like the control room. You ran a hand over the controls, disregarding Han's insisting that you not touch anything. Han irritated you endlessly, and there had to be a way to repay the favor. You knew how much Han loved the Falcon and it gave you an idea. You turned around and walked to Han, who was on his knees, bent over a bunch of wires.
"Hey, Han," you began, your plot fully formed in your mind.
He continued to stare down at the twisted wires with a vengeance, but he nodded in brief acknowledgement.
"I'm just going to try pushing a few buttons in the control room," you casually announced. "I hope that's ok."
"Yeah, uh-huh," he agreed absently.
You sucked in a breath to keep yourself from laughing. "Ok, thanks!" you managed.
"Gahhhhh!" Chewbacca warned Han. You put your finger to your lips to silence Chewie and ran off to the control room. The panicked Chewbacca remained by Han, trying to get his attention, eventually resorting to punching him in the arm.
"Ow! What was that for? I'm working on it!" Han said angrily.
"Grahhhh!" Chewbacca explained.
Han dropped the wires and jumped to his feet. "She what?" he yelled and ran after you. He burst into the control room and looked around anxiously. You had your back to the side of the door and watched him turn the seats around hoping to find you in one of them.
"The Falcon didn't ask for a whole search-and-rescue gig, Han," you said smirking.
He spun around and pointed the bizarrely-shaped tool he had in his hand at you. "You can't go pushing buttons on my ship whenever you feel like it," he practically screamed, his face turning beet red.
"Never fear, darling, I didn't press a button on your precious ship," you promised. "Though even if I did, I happen to recall that you said I could."
"I never said anything like that!" he insisted.
You were barely refraining from doubling over laughing, and Han could tell. His face returned to its normal color. "Oh, you think this is funny, huh?" he questioned.
At that moment, Chewbacca walked into the control room, announcing that the hyperdrive was fixed. Han smiled. "Buckle up, sweetheart," he instructed.
It took you a moment to process what was going on, but once you understood, you were thrown into a confusing mix of emotions. On one hand, you had no intention of allowing Han Solo—a reckless pilot and a scoundrel—to fly you anywhere in the Millennium Falcon—the oldest and junkiest ship in the galaxy. But on the other hand, you were intrigued and excited at the prospect of an adventure with Han Solo—a reckless pilot and a scoundrel. You decided to let curiosity kill the cat and burn bridges when you came to them. You took a seat and strapped yourself in. "Where are we going?" you inquired.
Han looked at you, turned to Chewbacca, and smiled. The ship lurched and the main door to Hanger Five opened. The Falcon headed through the opening and started flying surprisingly steadily.
You had always liked flying but you were sort of on edge about riding in the run down piece of scrap metal Han called a ship. You watched Han push buttons and flick switches with a cocky smirk all the while. Chewbacca leaned over to Han and grumbled something inaudible. Han whispered back while you strained to hear what they were saying. All you got was a snippet about malfunctioning and Han undoubtedly lying about it being ok.
"When you're ready, Chewie," Han allowed. There was a flash of light and suddenly you were in hyperspace. In your experience, hyperspace usually meant kicking back for some smooth sailing; but on this particular piece of garbage, it felt shaky and uncontrolled. You wondered how long it would be before the ship came to a stop. Light speed, of course, was supposed to be quick as a wink, but this seemed a lot longer than a wink.
A red light started to flash on the control panel in front of Han. The Falcon was definitely shaking uncontrollably now, and presumably not just because it was an old ship. There was a loud crashing noise and the Falcon stopped dead. Everything in the Falcon turned off suddenly and thankfully flickered back on.
You sat there gripping the seat tightly mouth agape. "You're dead," you announced with conviction. Han turned around to look at you, and then hopped out of his seat.
"Not yet, I'm not!" He yelled behind him as he ran toward the hyperdrive he was fixing earlier. You turned to Chewbacca who was ready to follow him.
"I'll have something to say about that," you muttered to him.
"Arghhhhh," Chewbacca snapped angrily. He brushed past you nervously, and you followed him.
"Well I have a reason to be angry at him!" you insisted. "First, he drags me into his ship without even telling me where he's going, then goes into hyperspace knowing the hyperdrive was malfunctioning, and now we're stranded in the middle of nowhe---" Chewbacca stopped abruptly causing you to run into him.
"Alright, no need to get worked up," you heard Han say.
You scoffed. "No need to get worked up? You didn't do anything about that hyperdrive, and now I'm paying the price!" you lamented. Han handed the tools off to Chewbacca, stood up, and brushed himself off.
"You think I wanted this to happen?" he asked.
"Considering how much trouble you get into, I'm beginning to wonder!" you hollered at him.
Behind Han, Chewbacca grunted. Han spun on his heel to glare at the Wookiee. "Whose side are you on, Fuzzball?" he questioned.
"Han, where were you even planning on taking me?" you asked through your teeth.
"Well I was going to take you to Corellia, but now I'm thinking about taking you to Hoth and leaving you there!" He brushed past you and sulked back into the control room.
You threw a pleading look at Chewbacca, but he just shrugged and got back to work. You offered to help, but Chewie didn't seem to want any—not from you anyway.
Having nothing else to do, you began to wander back to the control room. You told yourself over and over again that you weren't going there to see Han. Though, every time you told yourself that, it seemed less true.
You leaned against the frame of the door, watching as Han flicked switches in frustration. You began to suggest, "Have you tried contacting—"
"Yes!" He interrupted. "For some wonderful reason the com is down, and it looks like it's gonna be for a while."
"How long is a while?" you asked.
He turned to you ready to snap again, but after a moment of looking straight into your eyes, his face softened. He took a deep breath and silently walked back to Chewbacca. He whispered something you didn't catch. The Wookie growled softly, though you weren't very good at Shyriiwook, the Wookiee language, anyway.
Han turned back to you. "It shouldn't be that long, but we need to get the hyperdrive working," he explained.
"What's wrong with it?" you asked. Chewbacca made a noise that seemed to be a laugh. You looked at Han. He fidgeted and looked everywhere but your eyes. You realized that not only did Han have no idea what was wrong with the Falcon, but he was unprepared to fix it if he did. You glared at him.
"Settle down this will be over before you know it." He said.
"And if it isn't, I'm making a magic carpet out of Wookiee fur, and flying off of this junkyard."
You sat there for hours occasionally getting up to test communications. You figured that this must happen a lot in a ship like the Falcon. But the more you looked over at Han, the more clueless he seemed. It was hard to read expression on Chewbacca's face, but you could tell it wasn't any better on his end.
You got up once more to try to make contact with anyone at all. There was nothing but static. You went back to report to Han. Going back and forth between the cockpit, and where Chewie and Han worked was all you could really do. You didn't have any mechanical skills, so helping Han was out of the question. Han slammed his hand against the hyperdrive, making you jump.
"I can't fix it!" He yelled at no one. "This piece is entirely ruined!" You gave up any small hope you had that Han could get you out of this. Chewbacca growled in agreement. You planted your face in your hands and didn't want to look up until you were out of this mess.
You and Chewbacca spent a good portion of time playing Dejarik. The Wookiee wasn't very good, but Han explained he didn't like losing. You would rather let him win anyway. The game wasn't very entertaining, and it got tedious when Chewbacca kept challenging you round after round.
"Agghhhhrrgh" Chewie challenged once more. You noticed Han trying not to laugh out of the corner of your eye. You stood up and gestured to the seat.
"Your turn," you told him. Han leaned back in his chair.
"You're doing just fine," he said. "Maybe next time, if you don't use the lowest ranked character, you just might win." You walked over to him, pulled him out of his seat, and set him down in front of Chewie.
"Show me," you commanded. He obviously regretted commenting and reluctantly played Chewbacca. Though the game was boring to play, it was even worse watching it. The only thing that kept you looking was Han struggling to beat Chewie. Chewbacca had actually gotten better since you started playing him. That, unfortunately, only told you that you've been playing for far too long. You started walking in circles to get the blood flowing in your legs again. Han had lost the game and turned it off.
"You'll hurt your brain playing for too long." He told Chewie, who was growling in frustration. Han held up his hand for everyone to be quiet. There was a faint beeping noise off in the distance. You, Han, and Chewbacca started running towards the noise.
"Harrrghhh" Chewie said. You knew that had mentioned "hyperdrive", but you didn't understand the rest.
"I know, Chewie, but it shouldn't be." He picked up a pile of wires and studied them. Out of nowhere they sparked and Han jumped back. He noticed that the sparks had caught on to the withered hyperdrive manual Han had been reading. Han tried to quickly grab the papers but they set fire.
"Garrghhhhh!" Chewbacca howled.
"You didn't fix that?" Han shouted back. The Wookie shook his head. You grabbed Han's shoulder and turned him toward you.
"What didn't you fix?" You asked him. Han turned back toward the fire, started stomping it out.
"It wasn't my job to fix it!" Before the flames died away completely there was a loud noise. You figured it was some sort of smoke detector. Then immediately after the sound, water started pouring everywhere around you, Han, and poor Chewbacca.
You stood still as the cold water ran down your hair and onto your back making you shiver. This is why you didn't "hang out" with Han. Whenever you were around him, something had to go wrong. Han took one look at your face and started laughing. You turned to look at Han. He was being as childish as ever, something about that made you want to laugh. You trudged over to him and give him a push. He slipped and fell on his back. You and Chewbacca laughed until Han came to his senses. He stood up with a hilarious look of shock on his face.
"I guess I deserved that." He predicted. You nodded, and Chewbacca growled his agreement. "I wasn't asking you, you overgrown hairball." Chewie smiled causing Han to smile. The water had stopped now and you realized how soaked you were. You shivered and leaned over to Chewbacca
"How to you deal with him?" You playfully asked him. He shrugged in response.
"Come one, I'm a nice guy." Han said defensively. You and Chewbacca exchanged a glance, and the Wookiee went to dry off. You looked over at Han. He looked just as cold as you were. "Let's go see what we can salvage." He said walking toward the Dejarik table. There were a few papers on the table that were past saving. You gathered them up in shreds and threw them away. When you came back, Han was fussing over a control board.
"It still works right?" You asked Han. He turned to you.
"It should still work, but if Chewie had just fixed the sprinklers then I wouldn't have to worry about it at all." He said grudgingly.
"I don't get what was wrong with it," you said. "There was smoke and the smoke detector found out."
Han walked toward you, and turned around to see the water everywhere. "It's supposed to know where the fire is exactly and only spray there, but it malfunctioned a while ago." He clarified. "Come on. Let's go check the other rooms." You nodded and turned to go right when Han turned to go left. You ran into each other and almost fell over. Han recovered first and grabbed your hand. When he pulled you up you weren't expecting it and you ran into him again. This time he held on to you. You stared at him for a while captivated by his brown eyes. You looked down and backed up.
"Sorry." You said fidgeting. You didn't want to look up because you knew that no matter how hard you tried not to, you were falling for Han. He was the galaxy's biggest pain in the neck but there was the way he went about it that you thought about. He was confident in his decisions- including the stupid ones-. No, that didn't make him any less annoying either, but it helped. You had misjudged him, and ignored him. He still was not great at the responsibility thing though.
"How about I go right?" he decided. You agreed and walked away smiling. You couldn't seem to get Han out of your mind. You cleaned up anything that was spoiled then met Han back in the cockpit. It was quiet except for the controls beeping every now and again. You were tired from all the stress so you sat down on the ground. Han chose to join you when he had dried most everything off.
"What a day," you sighed.
"No kidding," Han replied. "I'll never get this place dry again."
You looked at him and for once you didn't mind if you were there forever. He started leaning toward you. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Your noses were touching when you heard static from the controls. You both jerked away from each other to better focus on the incoming transmission. It cleared up and you recognized Lando's voice.
"It's about time!" Han said standing up, then helped you to your feet. Chewbacca walked in the room with matted, slightly dry, fur. You had forgotten that he was there on the Flacon with you.
"Are you ok? You tried to contact us," Lando said.
Han rolled his eyes. "Our communications were down. I think I got half a message through before it went out though," He guessed.
Lando confirmed that had happened and sent the search-and-rescue team for a real rescue this time. After Han was done telling Lando all the necessary details, Chewbacca gave us both towels to dry off on.
"That was perfect timing." You joked.
"Lando's good like that." He said. He bent down and kissed you ignoring the questioning growls from Chewie. His lips were still cold from the water but you didn't object. It seemed impossible that this would have happened. But then again, Han had never really understood impossible.
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alwaysherebub · 4 years ago
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I feel cold as ice when he speaks, his voice sounding colder now, no longer teasing. Why doesn’t he just kill me? And then I hear the click of a gun, the safety coming off. He holds it up to where my hand had touched the button but I pulled it away, crouching under the desk so I was out of the way of his eye line, and therefore his aim but then the sirens sound in the distance. Thank fuck. I hear Mark’s voice, they’re going to leave.
“I will come back and find you, sweetheart. Take care.” I fight the urge to keel over and vomit, the words putting a disgusting taste in my mouth and an unsettling feeling in my stomach. I peek over the desk after hearing their footsteps retreating, watching their backs as they run from the entrance of the store and into the darkness of the early morning. A huge sigh of relief escapes my lips as I slump back to the floor and try to catch my breath. My heart is pounding and my head is spinning. I didn’t realise how freaked out I was until now, that crazed look in his eyes setting me on edge. I hear the sirens come to a halt outside, red and blue flashing lights glaring through the windows as the police storm in. I stare up at two officers as they look down on me, crumpled on the floor and lightheaded. I blink, seeing those psychotic eyes and crazed smirk every time I close my eyes. “I will come back and find you, sweetheart.”
-
It’s been three days since the incident at Yu’s, and I haven’t been back to work. As much as I need the money, the whole thing shook me up more than I’d like to admit, and Mr Yu understood. He gave me the all clear for as long as I needed to calm down and process the situation. I’d attended my lectures at university anyway. As a scholarship student, my attendance was pivotal in having my funds paid every year and god knows I wouldn’t be able to go to university without that. When a police car had dropped me home that night, I messaged Yuna from my university-loaned laptop and explained what happened. She was horrified, then had an ‘I told you so’ attitude, and then she was worried for me. She refused to let me get the train, driving twenty minutes out of her way in order to come pick me up and drop me home. I appreciated it, of course I did. I knew that I’d have to return to work soon, though. If i didn’t, I’d fall behind in rent and get kicked out. I spent hours searching for another job, now understanding why nobody could hold a long term job there, to no avail. I lay atop of my uncomfortable and lumpy mattress that sits on the floor of my barely furnished, dingy apartment, and stare at the damp ceiling. God, this sucks. The mixture of sirens, dogs barking and shouting outside on the street way too loud for me to get some shuteye. I sigh and haul myself up from the mattress, bare feet padding across the tiled floors over to the kitchen. I grab a cup, heading straight to the tap and fill a glass with water, my hands shaking as I lift it to my lips. What’s wrong with me? I’ve dealt with worse situations and never been this affected by it. Maybe it was the after effects of shock. Maybe it was the stress of it on top of my exams and work. Or maybe it was the unshakable feeling that someone was watching me. Maybe it was the fact that every time I close my eyes, I see his stupid face and that terrifying expression plastered across it. I sigh, putting the half empty glass down on the counter and taking deep breaths in and out. In and out. In and out. Slower. In and out. In and- Wait. Why is it silent? It’s never silent like this. I push myself away from the counter and walk over to the curtained window. I pull up the corner, peeking out. The street was empty. Huh. That’s a first. Usually it’s riddled with drunks or vandals, or at least a few sprinting gang members. Weird. I let the curtain fall back, trudging back to the kitchen. I pick up the glass of water again, taking a small sip. No. Something’s wrong. Something doesn’t feel right. I spin around, the glass slipping from between my fingers and shattering on the kitchen tiles with a loud smash, coming face to face with a man. In the darkness, I can’t make out his features but... I know those eyes. Fuck. My eyes widen. I try to throw a punch but he’s too fast, he deflects it with ease and when I try another it fails again. Grabbing my arm and bending it around my body, he pushes me up against the kitchen wall with his torso against my back. I yelp, a whimper slipping from between my lips as the shards of glass on the floor sink into the soles of my feet. His boots crunch against the glass, splitting it into even more tiny pieces. I grit my teeth and clench my jaw from the pain. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, causing the hairs to stand on end and a shiver to travel down my spine. He felt that shiver, I know he did. He pushes his torso harder against my back, lifting me slightly off the ground. I’d struggle, but the movement provides some relief from the searing pain of the glass in my feet, feeling the blood drip down onto the grimy floors. I thought it’d take him longer to find me, or maybe that he wouldn’t. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I was hoping he’d think it was too much hassle and just leave it alone. I shouldn’t have underestimated him. I don’t dare say a word. I won’t give him the satisfaction. If he’s gonna kill me, then he should just get it over with because I won’t give him the begging and pleading that he so badly wants. -☀️
After that day, Haechan start to follow you everywhere you go and watch you from a far, eyeing your every move. How he really pleased that he have so much effect on you till you feel like this.
"Aren't I said I will find you sweetheart? It's lovely to see you like this all afraid of me, you really need to start begging for your life Y/n." He said. Haechan don't know what why but he feel bad that your feet full of blood drip down but in the same time he love that sight seeing you all bloody.
He carried you and put you on the counter top. "You thought I'm not gonna find you, princess I'm here from the start. Did you remember what I said before? I'm gonna take you with me right? Now, is the time to go home and be my toy darling." With that he press a cloth that full of chloroform on you.
"Time to sleep sweetheart."
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shijiujun · 5 years ago
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[ENG] History3: Trapped Novel - Chapter Ten
~7,000 words 
Translation Masterpost can be found here
Disclaimer: Translations are entirely mine and Wei’s - these are not official translations and some phrases have been changed for better English interpretation so you’ll definitely see better/different translations elsewhere. Also keeping in mind when we translated this we aren’t exactly thinking about the style of writing and this translation is as close to the novel as we can make it XD So yes, some parts may be a little awkward to read. And yes some teeny weeny details and words may not turn up in the translation because the Chi to Eng mind acrobatics didn’t work out. If you see asterisks, scroll all the way to the bottom for notes!
Full chapter below the cut
*Note: I didn’t translate about 4 pages of the smut scene, it was taking me a little too long and I decided to drop it, so you’ll have to find alternative sources for that, but it doesn’t really impact the story much XD
Chapter Ten
Hospital
Jiang Jin Tang walks towards Tang Yi who is seated on the bench, and sighs, “You look like you’re in worse shape than the one currently inside.”
“Is… Is he okay?”
“He’s not going to die anytime soon, but I severely suspect that Meng Shao Fei has issues elsewhere.”
“Where?”
Jin Tang, who usually speaks ill of others with ease, says, “His brain!”
Tang Yi glares at the man clad in a white doctor’s robe, and cannot be bothered to respond.
“That guy keeps getting hurt because of you, and he’s the one who actually got shot, but the first thing he does after waking up is to worry about you, if this isn’t brain damage, what else can it be?”
“...”
“Tang Yi, just because Meng Shao Fei didn’t die the first two times doesn’t mean he’ll be so fortunate the third time. I don’t want you to regret this for the rest of your life, so as your brother, there are still some things I have to say. Love is just like life itself. Sure it’s beautiful, but it can also disappear at any time, so if you treasure this relationship, you have to let go of that burden in your heart. You can’t keep putting him in a spot and making things difficult for him,” Jin Tang says, somber and patting Tang Yi firmly on the shoulder.
“Okay, hurry in and go see him! If anything else happens, just look for me.”
“Thank you.”
Jin Tang shakes his head and smiles, then picks his vibrating phone out from his pocket.
“Be good, Tang Tang! I’m now in Mali and once everyone in the team and the equipment arrive, we’ll set off. The first treasure I dig up I’ll show to you first, you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
As he watches the message Jiang Zhao Peng sent over, Jin Tang’s lips curve into an indulgent smile.
Inside the ward, Shao Fei, who has already woken up and heard the conversation outside, immediately rips off tubes linked to the machine monitoring his vital signs. He closes his eyes and pretends that he’s in a coma.
Beep-------
Tang Yi barely steps into the ward before the distress signal sounds, and the curved lines on the monitor screen visibly flatlines. Going white immediately, he rushes to the bed and just as he’s about to press the button to ask for help, the person lying in bed hugs him around his waist.
“You’re this worried about me?”
Tang Yi freezes in shock, and the hand reaching out for the button retracts. With a stern, angry look, he glares at Shao Fei, who is grinning and happy, “Aren’t you a little too happy for an injured person?”
“Aren’t you a little too angry for someone who’s my boyfriend?”
“Hmph!”
Still chuckling, Shao Fei pulls at Tang Yi’s sleeve, gesturing for him to sit at the side of his bed. Afraid that Shao Fei would tear out his stitches, Tang Yi does not dare resist and can only sit down, his bad mood apparent on his face. Shao Fei touches lightly at Tang Yi’s wrists where the metal handcuffs sit.
“Don’t be angry, it's a reflex for me to try and snatch a gun, or put myself in the way of a bullet. I’m a police officer, after all.”
“I’m angry at myself,” Tang Yi frowns, holding onto Shao Fei’s icy hands.
“Then it’s better for you to be angry at me! Even if we had to do this again, I would still do the same thing.”
“I know you’ve been trying to stop me from killing others.”
“That’s right. Li Zhen Jie said it before, revenge can only bring you temporary satisfaction, but the consequences you will face for your actions will haunt you for life, and it’ll cause pain to the people who love you.”
“That includes you?”
“Of course!” Shao Fei shoots Tang Yi a look out of the corner of his eye, and continues, “Let me ask you, why did you think Tang Guo Dong tasked you with reforming the gang?”
After a moment of silence, Tang Yi replies, “Lao Tang said he didn’t want the brothers to continue a life like this, where they wouldn’t know if they were going to live or die tomorrow. He wanted everyone to live normal lives.”
“And if you, as their leader, did something illegal, would your men still try to turn over a new leaf?”
“....”
Tang Yi stares at Shao Fei. He did not actually think this far.
“Tang Yi, revealing the truth to everyone, letting the culprit be punished under the law, that’s justice. That’s answering to the victims, but if you handle this on your own, all people will see is a gangster killing a cop, then what Zhou Guan Zhi did will be hidden forever. Is that what you want to see? Is this the Xing Tian Meng that Tang Guo Dong would have wanted to see?”
Tang Yi sighs, and says, “... I’ll hand He Hang over to the police.”
Shao Fei smiles as he looks at the man he’s so deeply in love with, waiting for him to continue.
“And Zhou Guan Zhi too.”
“Thank you, and…” Shao Fei reaches for Tang Yi’s face on his uninjured side, pressing close and kissing his lips.
Tang Yi’s eyes close as he accepts the kiss. It’s a kiss filled with gratitude, love and happiness.
Half a minute later, Shao Fei pulls back and gazes into Tang Yi’s open eyes. 
He says, “I love you!”
Knock knock.
Zhao Zi, who has been waiting for quite some time outside the hospital ward walks in. He looks at the man currently staring at Shao Fei, and reminds him, “Time’s up, Tang Yi, let’s go!”
He then takes out a jacket he prepared for this, covering Tang Yi’s hands to keep anyone from gossiping about his handcuffs if they see it while the both of them are walking out. However, Tang Yi simply shakes his head, standing up straight, and leaves the ward without turning back.
A room in a house
In an old, dilapidated room. Captain Shi sits in a corner looking at photos of his daughter in the wedding dress boutique on his phone. Two police officers in casual dress are guarding him nearby. One of them is scrolling through his phone, and the other one is resting with his eyes closed, seated on a chair with his arms crossed. 
A little while later, the doorbell rings. The man on his phone walks to the door, and lets the person on the other side of the door in after verifying his identity.
“Boss!” Shao Fei calls, wearing the $60,000 NTD suit he bought at Tang Yi’s store, in his hands a traditional wedding cake.
Captain Shi looks at the person who’s just come from a wedding eagerly, and asks, “How did it go?”
“You can see for yourself,” Shao Fei takes out his phone and plays the video he recorded of the wedding.
Slowly opening the banquet hall’s doors, the bride stands there alone without her father, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Her makeup done up so beautifully, the woman glances down at the red carpet with red-rimmed eyes, pausing for a bit before looking up and smiling widely. She picks up her courage and takes the first step forward.
On both sides of the red carpet, her close friends scatter flower petals and pop party poppers, representing their well-wishes for the new couple. Under the eyes of the marriage officiant, the bridge and groom exchange rings, completing the wedding’s most important ritual.
Captain Shi looks at his daughter’s wedding video, and nods profusely with his eyes wet.
Shao Fei pulls a chair over so he’s sitting opposite Captain Shi, and places the wedding biscuits on the table. “Xiao Ya asked me to bring these to you, there’re biscuits, and also the tea you like to drink, and wedding photos.”
“Ah Fei… thank you…”
However, the man does not accept the gifts, as if afraid of dirtying the beauty and goodness of the moment with his hands that are awash with sin and guilt. Shao Fei looks at his Captain, who’s almost a shell of his usual self. 
The back of his nose burns as he says, “You and Li Zhen Jie have always been my role models and I have always believed in every single thing the both of you taught me. I remember the first day I joined the team, you told me that justice is just like lighting a lamp against the wind and police officers are the protectors of the lamp, so we have to be alert at all times. Because only when the lamp consistently lights up the path in front of us, can we then help others to walk down the correct path too. But you destroyed the person who was supposed to protect the lamp, tried to cover up the truth from four years ago and even allowed everyone to suspect Li Zhen Jie, and to point fingers at her.”
Captain Shi listens to the words he used to say, and lowers his gaze in remorse, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. After all, having to choose between being a father and being a police officer, I selfishly chose to be a father.”
“Boss, do you regret it?”
The man shakes his head and replies bitterly, “When Ah Zhi told me four years ago that he killed Li Zhen and Tang Guo Dong, and destroyed the evidence after, I was relieved. If I didn’t have that sum of money that year, I wouldn’t have been able to see Xiao Ya on her wedding day.”
“Boss…”
Captain Shi looks at Shao Fei and with a complicated expression, he says, “Ah Fei, I actually resented you.”
Shao Fei returns the man’s gaze, stunned at the revelation.
“When everyone was no longer interested in the case at all, you were the only one persisting in bothering Tang Yi, insistent on finding out the truth, as if you weren’t afraid of standing on your own against the rest of the world.”
“But you never once truly stopped me.”
“Because I wanted to see just how long you would last. I even hoped that when you had to choose between justice and obstruction to that, you would choose to give up. Then at least I could comfort myself in the knowledge that you and I, we aren’t so different after all,” Captain Shi says in a self-deprecating manner, raising his head to look at the impulsive young man who really has caused him quite a lot of trouble up until now.
“Aren’t I really bad? I’d fallen, and wished that the people around me would be just like me. I’m sorry, the Captain you admired is actually such a despicable man.”
“No! Boss, you’re not,” Shao Fei stares at Captain Shi resolutely, finally saying the words he wanted to, hidden away under the guilt he felt, because he blamed himself too. “You didn’t stop me because you were waiting too, no, even anticipating the moment I would find the truth and expose you and Zhou Guan Zhi. It’s true that between being a father and being a police officer, you chose to be a good father, but you didn’t give up on the other part of you, the part that’s a police officer.”
Faced with Shao Fei’s understanding, Captain Shi, who has been suppressing all his emotions, finally lets his tears run free as he sobs, covering his face.
“If Li Zhen Jie was still alive, I don’t think she would have hated you. Though she might have kicked your ass,” Shao Fei jokes deliberately, trying to lighten the melancholic atmosphere between them and rubbing at his nose, his face full of tears too.
Captain Shi looks at the man sitting in front of him and recalls his colleague, the woman who worked harder than any other man he knew. 
His shoulders shake slightly as he says, “She wouldn’t have just beat me up, but scolded me too. She would have scolded me for living like a coward…”
Outside the room, the rays of the setting sun eventually shine over the both of them, but in the corners where the sunlight could not reach, darkness still remains. 
Before their meeting ends and just as Shao Fei is about to leave, Captain Shi suddenly moves in front of him.
“Shao Fei, I’m leaving Team Three in your hands,” he says knowingly, patting at Shao Fei’s shoulder.
Cemetery
Tang Yi stands before a gravestone and stares at the music box on the ground, before pulling out his lighter and lighting a cigarette at the side. From afar, Chen Wen Hao walks over with a bouquet of flowers, and after seeing Tang Yi, he hesitates. Then he walks over to the grave and places the bouquet on the flat surface.
“Li Zhen, I’m sorry… All these years, I vented my anger and hate on Tang Guo Dong, hating him for causing me to end up in jail, hating him for not stopping you from aborting the baby and even suspecting that he liked you. That day was the first day of my release from prison, but I saw the both of you together. That was the first time in 24 years we were meeting, but I didn’t expect it to be the last…”
“When I was younger, I didn’t have much money and when I gave you flowers I could give you only one stalk. How sad was that? But you always smiled so happily, so I thought, if I could earn more money I would be able to buy more flowers to make you happy. I ended up walking the wrong path, and didn’t dare to let you know, so I lied to you instead.”
“If that year, I chose differently, would you not have left me then? The three of us, a family, would we have been able to live like normal families, having meals at the dining table? Maybe we wouldn’t have had much money, but we would have led a normal, stable life… we would have also been… happy…”
He finishes his sentence and falls silent, his face filled with tears as he cries.
It is said that every person has to face the consequences of the decisions they make. Then, the price he paid in his lifetime was really just too much, too much…
Tang Yi walks over to Chen Wen Hao’s side, and places the lighter before the gravestone. To the photo on the stone, he says, “After you gave me up for adoption, I ran away from home because of my relationship with my adoptive father, and then I was given a home by Tang-ye. He loved and doted on me as if I was his biological son. Don’t worry, I’ll continue reforming Xing Tian Meng. I believe that this is what you would have wanted to see, the you who spent your life fighting drug dealers.”
Chen Wen Hao supports himself on his knees as he gets up, and now that he knows the truth, he feels as if he’s aged in a flash. He is no longer the fearful, big drug lord, and no longer the vicious Chen-ye he was known for. He is merely an old man in his sixties, a man who’s finally seeing his own son - a father.
He takes out the thumb drive saved with the list of Xing Tian Meng members and business deals, handing it over to Tang Yi.
“This is something I bribed Jack to gather for me as I was plotting revenge against Tang Guo Dong. Every step I’ve taken in my life has turned out to be wrong, and even as I stand before my son, I don’t have the right to ask for his forgiveness.”
Tang Yi’s grip on the thumb drive tightens. He nods at the man before him respectfully, and with a complex expression he leaves the cemetery. At the stairs, however, his footsteps pause and Tang Yi covers his face as he sobs.
At Zhao Zi’s house
“What are you doing?” Zhao Zi asks in confusion, looking at Jack in surprise, who’s standing at his door with his small luggage.
“From today onwards, I’m moving in with you.”
Jack beams, picking up his bags and ready to walk in, but the owner of the house stops him with both arms spread wide open.
“Who said you could move in?”
“You did!” the red-haired man cocks his head to the side, and grins, “Didn’t you cry and ask me to stay?”
“Yes I did, but when I asked you to stay then, and this kind of staying… it’s different!”
After realizing all the things that Zhou Guan Zhi did, Zhao Zi was so depressed that he sat in the middle of a square with a bottle of beer and started sobbing. After hearing that Jack too, was going to leave and go somewhere else, he hugged him and began to sob even louder, shouting that he wanted Jack to stay at his side.
Jack sets his bags down and stalks towards Zhao Zi until he cages the man against the wall. Staring into his eyes, he says, “Do you know how much I gave up, just because you said that?”
The ambush in Cambodia, the deal he had with Yan Zheng Qiang*, the status and position he had in Xing Tian Meng, and so many opportunities from where he could have earned a lot of money. All of it, he abandoned without a second thought.
“Huh?”
“So I’m now a pitiful bug who has no income and no home to return to, you have to be responsible and feed me well.”
“Huh?” Zhao Zi looks at the man who’s given up on everything, dumbfounded. “Wait, no, where’s your family?”
Jack’s expression goes still, and then speaking a half-truth of sorts, he answers, “How would someone like me, who lives in danger every single day, have any family left? No matter where I go, I’m alone, and it gets pretty lonely…”
Zhao Zi looks at this person, who also longs for someone to be at his side just like himself, and his resolve wavers.
“So just let me stay~ Not only will you have another person to share the bills with, but I can take over things like housework and the most important thing is…”
Jack, an ex-mercenary who has never let an opportunity to get the best deal in any situation go, takes the chance to persuade Zhao Zi, “My cooking is pretty delicious, no? As long as you let me stay, I promise you that I’ll take care of your three meals daily. How about that? Isn’t this a really good deal?”
Zhao Zi, a known glutton, swallows. He has to admit that the last point Jack made is the most tempting one. However, if Jack does everything, then what is he going to do?
“You don’t have to do everything in the house. Since it’s housework, everyone in the house has to contribute, that’s why it’s called housework.
“So…” Jack’s heart warms, and he immediately snatches a kiss from Zhao Zi. “Shorty, can I move in, and become a part of your family?”
“Hnn!” Zhao Zi nods seriously, biting at his bottom lip.
“Then let’s have our meals together, do housework together, you’ll take care of the odd days, and I’ll take the even days including Sunday.”
“Okay!”
Just as Jack is preparing to swoop in for a kiss, his hands holding Zhao Zi’s face, they suddenly hear Zhao Zi’s stomach rumbling, and the romantic atmosphere dissipates immediately.
“Pfft, is it 6pm already?”
“Hnn….” Zhao Zi laughs sheepishly, rubbing at his stomach that is even more precise than a clock.
Jack pats him on the head, then moves towards the kitchen, “I’ll make you dinner right away. First, I’ll feed you, and then after… it’s your turn to feed me.”
“Wait! What do you mean, it’s my turn to feed you? Jack you better explain! Jack!”
The Tang manor
“Have you stared enough?” Tang Yi picks up his teacup and glares at a certain doctor, who’s staring at him incessantly.
“Not yet, I specially came over to see what it would look like, for an ice mountain to be melted by the power of love. Pfft, it’s practically like an antique that’s just been unearthed, of course I have to look at it a few times. But Meng Shao Fei is really something, because only he can fall in love with a boring hard shell like you, who doesn’t like to talk?”
However, Jin Tang, who is gleefully ribbing at the Xing Tian Meng leader in an unusual turn of events, is quickly defeated in the next second with Tang Yi’s words.
“I didn’t think you would have the time to talk rubbish here with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Andy didn’t tell you?”
Jin Tang frowns, sensing some conspiracy in the air, “He didn’t tell me what?”
“Andy got some news today and told me that there’s a British man in the archaeological group who’s clinging onto your Xiao Shu Gong, and he even insists on squeezing in the same tent as him every night to sleep.”
Jin Tang snaps to his feet in shock and the usually gentle and composed man turns to Tang Yi with ferocity in his eyes. He glares at Tang Yi, “Fuck, why did you only just tell me this?!”
“I thought you already knew.”
“Damn it!” the man cursed, taking out his phone and calling his secretary. He says anxiously, “Book a flight for me to Mali right now… Of course I know there’s no direct flight there, why would I have called you otherwise? Settle this in the next hour, I want to get to my destination in the shortest time possible.”
After delegating the task to his secretary, Jin Tang hangs up and glares at Tang Yi again, huffing in anger, “What are you looking at! Have you never seen me angry?”
“I see you angry rather often, but I’ve never seen you jealous. It’s just like an antique that’s just been unearthed and it really does deserve a few more looks from me.”
The words he used to tease Tang Yi earlier are now being used back on him, word for word, and Jin Tang doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end he puts up his middle finger and says, “Fine, you’re ruthless, teasing me like this.”
“It’s true that you have to wait in relationships, but if you always bury what you are truly thinking deep in your heart, the other person will never know how you feel. I don’t want to see you end up like that.”
Jin Tang looks at Tang Yi, stunned. His lips then curve in a smile, “I really didn’t expect to hear such deep thoughts from you.”
“I didn’t expect to think this way either.”
“But it’s good that you’re like this, you’re finally looking more like a human.”
“If you need any help from me, just let me know, don’t be shy.”
“Don’t worry! I definitely won’t stand on ceremony with you.”
Both men raised their teacups and smiled at each other. In the other’s eyes, they could see the vibrance of happiness shining through.
Outside the police station
Tang Yi has just parked his car in front of the station, and suddenly a huge motorbike zooms past the side of his car, then emergency brakes.
“Ah, what a coincidence, hi ex-boss,” Jack greets with a harmless, innocent smile as he takes off his helmet and reveals a mop of eye-catching red hair.
Tang Yi alights his car and looks at Jack coldly, “You resigned for another reason, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t,” Jack hangs his helmet on the handles and shrugs, “I just happened to find the life I want to live, there’s no other reason for it.”
At the same time, Shao Fei walks out from the station building, and looking at the guy seated on the bike, he says, “What are you doing here?”
“Please, even you guys are lovingly fetching each other from work, isn’t it normal for me to wait for someone to get off work too?”
Looking at Jack’s face, Tang Yi quickly changes the subject and says, “Chen Wen Hao told me that you used me to get access to Xing Tian Meng’s confidential documents, so previously, when you tried to assassinate me and failed, and was subsequently bribed by me, that was fake too?”
Jack’s expression stills, and knowing that he cannot continue to deceive him, the man regains his composure. He admits, “It was planned. Following you at your side was also so I could get information, but you still managed to get the thumb drive back, didn’t you?”
“Did you think I would let it go like that?”
Tang Yi will show no mercy to the people who have used him.
Jack forces a smile and says, “Let bygones be bygones. I had my own difficulties too. And to protect the happiness I managed to get after so much hardship, I’m afraid I would have to do something to you.”
“What do you mean?”
Shao Fei can feel the murderous intent coming off Jack as he speaks, and immediately moves to stand between both men, pushing Tang Yi behind him protectively.
“Nothing, I just want to remind my ex-boss that there is only interest between people and no real feelings or relationships. I have to lie in order to attain my goal, so we shouldn’t concern ourselves with these small things, don’t you think?” Jack shrugs again and bats his eyelids at Tang Yi.
Just as he does that, he hears another voice sounding from behind him, “So between you and me, we’re just using each other as well, there aren’t any real feelings?”
He sees Zhao Zi’s upset expression the second he turns his head around, and immediately shakes his head, denying, “No. I didn’t, shorty, listen to me!”
“Ah Fei, I’m staying at your place today,” Zhao Zi glares at Jack and walks over to Shao Fei to put some distance between him and the red-haired asshole.
“I object!”
“Overruled! Ah Fei I’m going with you.”
“You’re not allowed! We’re going home.”
“I don’t want to!”
Jack knows that it’s inconvenient to have this conversation right outside the police station, and so he decides to simply carry Zhao Zi and put him on the bike instead.
“Wah- Ah Fei, save me!”
“Zhao-”
“If you don’t want to die, then don’t interfere!” Jack glares at Shao Fei who’s intending to stop him.
With one hand around Zhao Zi’s waist and the other securing a knot around Zhao Zi’s waist with the jacket around Jack’s middle, he ties Zhao Zi to him. Then he slams his foot down on the accelerator and leaves the precinct quickly.
“Ah Fei! Ah Fei save me, Ah Fei!”
And the cries for help fade away as the bike goes further, and further.
Shao Fei stares at his good friend being kidnapped right outside of the station and it takes him a long while to break out of his trance. Pointing in the direction that Jack and Zhao Zi left in, he asks the Xing Tian Meng leader next to him who’s smiling mysteriously, “When did the both of them get together?”
“Who knows?”
“Hey! You were finding trouble with Jack deliberately earlier, right?”
“He’s a talent, but unfortunately there’s no leash that can hold him, so I obviously had to teach him a lesson. Only then can we use him in the future.”
“Don’t tell me you still want him to work for you”?
Tang Yi laughs and lets the silence speak for itself. Shao Fei gapes at Tang Yi, looking at this handsome but incredibly scheming man.
At Zhao Zi’s house
“Let me go!”
Jack takes advantage of his height to secure Zhao Zi over his shoulders in a fireman’s lift, and only after they’ve entered through the gates and the door does he put Zhao Zi back on the ground.
“Don’t be angry, listen to me-”
“I don’t want to! I don’t want to be used by you!” Zhao Zi presses his hands over his ears, even lifting his leg to kick at the other’s calf bone.
Despite being so skilled at fighting, Jack does not move or retaliate, only tolerating the pain and pulling the angry person before him into his embrace. At the same time, he pinches at Zhao Zi’s chin and angles his head up, forcing a kiss on Zhao Zi.
“Mmm…. mmm…. Go away!” Zhao Zi pushes Jack away for forcing the kiss on him, his eyes red as he glares at him.
“Zhao Li An! Listen to me!”
It’s Jack’s first time seeing the shorty this furious, and even though Zhao Zi’s eyes hold no plausible threat to him, Jack is still properly startled and all he can do is carry Zhao Zi to the counter, trapping him against it.
“...”
Zhao Zi stares at Jack in shock. This is the first time Jack has been so fierce to him.
“I won’t explain myself for what I did in the past. I admit that in this time, there were both truths and lies in the things I said to you, but I’ve never used you! Never!”
“How do I know what you’re saying are truths, and which are lies? Even the Chief I really trusted, even the senior who was so important to me, these people I can’t even trust. Why should I trust you?”
What happened with Captain Shi and Zhou Guan Zhi dealt Zhao Zi a heavy blow, and he even doubted himself, was it him who was naive and had too much faith in human nature? Does he have the right to be a police officer, even? Why is it that the Captain and colleague he had meals with every day, both had other sides to them that he missed?
Jack looks at his shorty who has lost control over his emotions, and emphasizes, “You don’t have to believe in everything else, but there are two things that you have to believe in.”
“What two things?”
“The first is, I like you.”
“And?”
“Second, I stayed because of you. These two things, you better remember them clearly in your heart!”
Zhao Zi looks at Jack with wide eyes and listens as Jack continues to confess to him.
“In the beginning, I was just curious about you, wondering how you could be both so naive and lustful.”
“I’m not!”
“You are, and you even touched me.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to touch!”
“Whatever, anyway, I was totally attracted to you. This is the first time I’ve cared so much about someone else, worried that if I’m not around, are you having your meals properly, worrying if you are lonely by yourself at home, worrying if you are crying in a place I don’t know… So I decided to stay, because I didn’t want to leave you!”
Zhao Zi, seated on the counter, blinks and rubs at his nose. Somehow, everything that Jack is saying strikes all his pain points and he feels like crying.
“If you still don’t believe me, and if you still want me to go, I’ll go. But you have to be prepared, because the moment I leave, you’ll never see me again.”
“You’re lying to me again, right?”
“No, I’m serious. So you have to make the decision. Do you want me to go? Or do you want me to stay?”
“I…”
Jack waits for Zhao Zi’s answer anxiously. This is the first time he is so uncertain about what he’s doing. However, Zhao Zi continues to look downwards, biting at his lips and refusing to speak. Taking Zhao Zi’s silence for rejection, Jack’s shoulders drop in disappointment.
“Forget it, I’ll go…”
The moment he says that, Jack hears the reply he’s been waiting for.
“Stay!”
“Really? You want me to stay? Why?”
“Because…” Zhao Zi’s ears go hot, and he says in a small voice, “I like you.”
The ends of Jack’s mouth curve, and then he’s kissing Zhao Zi’s lips hard.
“Mmmff, Jack... “
Zhao Zi, who was teased by Shao Fei for being single all his life, now realizes that kisses aren’t just like bland honey water, but a really, really sweet chocolate pie that is enough to make his legs go weak. Through the hands cupping the sides of his face, Zhao Zi can feel Jack’s body warmth, and also the way Jack’s fingertips are trembling, just that little bit.
It seems that even for Jack, who always seems to have everything under control and doesn’t understand the meaning of fear, there are also times where he feels insecure. It’s not only just Zhao Zi who is afraid of being rejected.
“What is it?”
As Zhao Zi is trying to hold his laughter in, his shoulders shake so much that Jack notices, and so Jack pulls Zhao Zi over to look at the giggling shorty.
“So you were actually so afraid of me rejecting you?” Zhao Zi stares at Jack, exposing the thoughts the other man was trying to conceal.
The red-haired man pretends to be angry and glares at Zhao Zi, but his eyes are full of adoration as he looks at the source of happiness that the heavens has finally put into his grasp. And only before this person, Jack has no need to lie or hide.
“I was very afraid.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know how I could go back to being the person I was before.”
Jack was once obsessed with the thrill that uncertainty could bring, because he was very confident of his own abilities. As long as he worked hard, he could always obtain the things he wanted. However, with love, he could not be sure of how much Zhao Zi liked him, and there was no guarantee that even with his best efforts, that Zhao Zi would return his affections.
Moreover, once he experienced not having to pretend in front of someone else and letting go of all his defenses, much less having to lie to them, he no longer wants to put his armour back on and go back to the battlefield, where he can trust no one else but himself.
Zhao Zi nods, and then angles his head upwards to look at the man who’s much taller than he is. He says, “I understand, because since you came into my life, I feel like being alone at home is so lonely! It’s not as if I didn’t stay alone before, but now even when I eat, it doesn’t taste as good as when I eat with you, it’s not like…”
“It’s not like the food isn’t exactly the same,” Jack continues for him with a smile.
“Hnn! It really, really is like that.”
“Hold on! Shorty, don’t tell me you realized you like me because you found that the food you were eating tasted bad?”
If that really is the case, then he will be jealous of every food item that ranks before him in the shorty’s heart.
“Of course! What about you? When did you start liking me?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Hey! How can you be like this, it’s not fair, I told you my answer!”
“You really want to know?”
“I do.”
“Then…”
“Ah!”
Jack suddenly picks Zhao Zi up in his arms and walks over to the dining table next to them, putting the shorty on the surface of the table. Then he begins to unbutton Zhao Zi’s shirt.
“Let me eat first, and then I’ll tell you the answer.”
Zhao Zi’s face turns hot, and he looks down, shy, “If you’re hungry… then… then go have supper…”
His smile oozing charm, Jack turns to the side and steals a kiss from the corner of Zhao Zi’s lips, “My supper is you - Zhao. Li. An!”
“But I’m not tasty.”
“Tasty or not, I’ll let you know what I think after I’ve eaten, so… let me first take off the packaging.”
“But…”
“Shhh!” Jack smirks, then presses his face against the side of Zhao Zi’s ear and says softly, “Didn’t your grandma teach you, when someone is eating you, you’re not supposed to talk?”
“No,” the honest and innocent Zhao Zi answers after actually considering the question. He shakes his head and clarifies, “Why can’t I talk?”
“Because…”
Fingers unbutton the last of the buttons on the shirt and Jack’s hands guide Zhao Zi’s arms out of the shirt’s sleeves. When Zhao Zi is finally half naked seated on the dining table, Jack continues, “Because when other people are busy ‘eating’ you, all you need to do is to moan nicely.”
Suddenly, Jack crouches down and moves towards the soft bumps on Zhao Zi’s chest, then bites down on one.
“Ah-”
Startled, Zhao Zi glares at Jack. No one has ever done this to his nipples. Jack is lightly biting on them. It stings a little, but more than that, whatever he is feeling right now he feels it strongly, but is unable to put into words.
“Jack…”
“Hmm?” Jack responds to Zhao Zi who is experiencing this for the first time, in a deep, nasal tone.
“It’s… It’s so weird…” 
Not only is Zhao Zi’s face hot now, both of his ears are scalding hot too.
“It’s tasty,” the person with his head bent low mumbles, and then Jack begins to tease at the hard nipple he was lightly biting at with the tip of his tongue.
“Mmm...hmmm”
It feels really weird. Not only does the area where Jack is attacking feels weird, even a more embarrassing part of him is beginning to rise, and he’s feeling both uncomfortable and good at the same time.
Jack grins and enjoys the way Zhao Zi is reacting to him. He releases the pressure on Zhao Zi’s chest and the moment Zhao Zi relaxes, Jack immediately goes after the other nipple, continuing to use his teeth and tongue to bully the pitiful and soft little thing.
“Ah-hah… Jack!”
Angling his eyes downwards Zhao Zi can now clearly see the bumps shining with spit, and the usually soft area is now both red and hard from Jack’s ministrations. Even the soft tip has swollen into a little ball.**
“So delicious,” Jack finally looks up to appreciate his work.
“Look! It’s so red now!”
Zhao Zi looks down at his chest, and both his left and right sides have been bitten until they’re both red and swollen, and it feels itchy too. He cannot resist but scratch at the bumps, but then he hears Jack swallow and make a ‘sssss’ sound.
“What’s wrong?”
“Shorty, it seems that I’ve underestimated you, after all.”
“Huh?”
Jack then grabs onto the bewildered man’s hand, dragging it to the lower half of his body. That’s when Zhao Zi realizes, where the denim is hugging taut around something, Jack’s member is obviously hard.
“You-”
Zhao Zi is too embarrassed to continue speaking, and the skin from his face all the way to his neck flushes entirely red.
“It’s all your fault, so you better take responsibility.”
“Huh?”
“This is the first time I’ve gotten so hard so quickly, and…”Jack smirks and moves to Zhao Zi’s ear, and with a warm exhale, he continues, “And wet.”
[I’m skipping the rest of the smut scene! Sorry guys think you’ll have to find alternative sources for the translation of this part.]
“So tired…” Zhao Zi pants as he lies on the wooden dining table. Looking at Jack who’s pressing down on him, he grins, silly.
“What is it?”
“Am I… tasty?”
“You are. You are very tasty,” Jack grins and gives Zhao Zi his highest compliments.
Jack then carries his lover to the second floor and helps Zhao Zi to wash away the remnants of their lovemaking, before putting him on their bed.
“Hey… Will you still leave next time?”
“Since you’ve asked me to stay with so much passion, I wouldn’t be a man if I left you,” Jack’s hands move over Zhao Zi’s body under the blankets covering the both of them.
“Don’t… I’m so tired…”
Zhao Zi dives into Jack’s embrace, closing his eyes. Staring at Zhao Zi’s face, Jack looks as if he’s about to confess to him again.
“I’ve never thought so much about anything, until I met you. In the past, I always thought that settling down was such a boring thing as that kind of life would be stagnant without change, and only thrill and excitement could fulfill me, could make me feel alive. You made me realize that a normal life is happiness, so… shorty, be prepared! Don’t you ever think of leaving me.”
Jack presses a kiss to Zhao Zi’s forehead, and softly says, “Goodnight.”
He doesn’t realize that Zhao Zi hasn’t fallen asleep. The shorty smiles happily and sinks into his dreams.
Outside the courthouse
Shao Fei holds onto Tang Yi’s hand before the courthouse, and ignoring the looks of everyone around them, gazes at Tang Yi.
“After you go in, don’t refuse to talk to people.”
“Why are you saying this for no reason?”
“If people talk to you, don’t just keep quiet, and don’t ignore them.”
It was a different society in prison with its own laws and rules, and Shao Fei didn’t want Tang Yi to have any accidents inside.
“Hnn,” Tang Yi agrees, nodding.
“You’re no longer the boss when you go in, and I know you will find it hard to get used to, but tolerate it. If you don’t cause any trouble, you’ll be out in no time.”
“Hnn.”
“I’ll come see you every week, if you’ve got anything you need, let me know.”
“Hnn.”
“And one last thing…”
“What?”
Shao Fei chuckles, and says, “Don’t miss me too much.”
“Sorry, this is the only thing I cannot do.”
Hugging the lover he’s about to separate from tightly, Tang Yi suddenly feels anxious.
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you on the outside, no matter how long you’re in there for,” Shao Fei promises, tearing through Tang Yi’s facade of calm as he pushes himself away from Tang Yi’s chest, looking into the eyes of the man who’s about to serve his sentence.
“I’m not worried about this.”
“Please, you are obviously so concerned about this.”
“You’re the only person in the world who thinks so.”
“That’s right! Because I’m the only one who understands you, so…” Shao Fei smiles, and using the words he said to Tang Yi in that dilapidated house in the mountains, he continues, “I’ll keep watching you.”
“You’ll keep watching me?” Tang Yi finally smiles, recalling the night they were hiding on the mountains as he stares at Shao Fei.
“Yes! I’ll keep my eyes on you always, both of them!”
“Okay.”
Still smiling, Tang Yi kisses Shao Fei one last time, before turning and walking towards the courthouse.
“Tang Yi!”
Tang Yi pauses in his footsteps, but doesn’t dare to turn back.
“I’ll miss you.”
Again, Tang Yi moves forward and walks into the courthouse with determination, prepared to face the sentence that is waiting for him.
Facing a future where he is no longer alone!
---
Notes:
*Yan Zheng Qiang is the name of the Interpol chief, you know the one that scolded Shao Fei and then colluded with Jack by the riverside?
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youarejesting · 4 years ago
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Curse.7 Scare Tactics
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[First] [Masterlist] [Next] Beta: @jamaiskook​ Rating: PG Pairing: Prince!Jin x Reader Genre: fantasy, romance, comedy, drama, mystery, and more good stuff
Summary: A modern-day fairy tale whereby seven young princes born under King Bang’s greed cannot find true love. Unless they break a special spell, called the ‘Bang curse’. In order to break the curse, Prince Seokjin must be loved by a ‘Blue’ blood, by a royal. That seems almost impossible when you have a pig nose. (based off the movie Penelope)
[Story Give Away]
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Jin wasn’t particularly excited by today's meet but there was a sense of anticipation unlike any other meet before. There was so much that he was working for. It was not just his own but his brothers’ happiness that was relying on this morning. He unwittingly combed his hair and wore a face mask, only to sit behind the glass and stare at the empty room. 
The girls entered one by one, each as pretty and high end as the last, with their designer clothes and pristine nails and— 
She walked in wearing ripped jeans and worn sneakers, her hair was a mess and her nails slightly bitten from stress. It didn’t appear that she was wearing much makeup, a sight that made him feel like she was more down to earth. It was a bit daunting- she was so beautiful and she must have barely worn anything on her face.
Ignoring the glances she was getting from the other girls, or the way they shifted from the chair as she sat down. She started going on about some new fashion trends and Seokjin could see it. She was a swindler. How could he not notice, for his entire life all he did was see and observe others. And he knew when someone was lying.
When locked away in a proverbial tower, one finds themselves with a lot of time on their hands. Seokjin used that time to read about human behaviour, so he knew a liar when he saw one and you were a damned good one. He had to pull his eyes away from your figure, your presence in the room demanded attention and you were able to ensnare these women in ribbons of lies and with those strings you could easily manipulate them like they were simple marionettes. 
Finally, the girls went quiet, all looking at their phones (including you, albeit with a frown) he was able to open the chat room. You had an older iPhones and it appeared you were having some technical difficulties. He wanted to help and almost did, partly standing before remembering his predicament.
The girls started messaging in the chat room and he was politely replying to their hellos and well wishes. It was honestly no different than any other meet, and yet he was so distracted by this young woman carding her hands through her soft curls and sporadically pacing about the room with her hand extended. 
He knew his brothers would be laughing at how strange this group of young women were behaving. They would watch the meets from one of the many living rooms within the palace. He wished he could be goofing off too, instead of holding the pressure of six other lives in his hands. 
Nothing could distract Seokjin from the sudden dark turn of the conversation. Some were bringing up past rumors and others were spouting rubbish about his mental capacity. He rebutted then, trying to keep his cool until they started accusing him of certain things he was not. 
They were demanding that he show himself and in a fit of rage, he told them he would be there soon.
Seokjin threw his phone onto the couch cushion beside him and stormed across the room toward the side door. To the girls it would appear as just another mirror, but each mirror was somewhere he could observe the young women and get to know them before he showed himself. As the years passed, the only time he used this door was to scare them away and that’s what he planned to do.
Each step he took was heavy like he was making a point to himself. He didn’t need anyone, he didn’t need these superficial women trying to tell him how worthless he was, he already knew that. Seokjin secured the small lever in his hand and pulled it down making the door swing open. Stepping into the middle of the room; each young lady looked up at him, their eyes traveling his form. Some noticed his body first, others his eyes, hair, or smile but they all landed upon his nose. 
He felt that crushing feeling in his chest as their faces turned to disgust and horror, watching them all scramble from their seats, tripping over themselves and each other and screaming as they ran from the palace. He felt a sick sense of satisfaction, a good riddens. Seokjin didn’t need anyone, at least that’s what he thought.
That is, until he realized he lost her. The girl who he thought was different, with her ripped jeans and messy hair. The one who captivated him with her mere presence, maybe she was the same after all. He sighed, reprimanding himself for not behaving as he promised Adora and his brothers he would. He turned his back to the empty room and shuffled back into the adjacent room, stopping only to pick up his phone. 
The trek through the castle was as quiet as always, Seokjin’s wing never had any real visitors, just the occasional cleaner or one of his brothers. He reached the lounge room where his brothers were sitting eating snacks, the television showed the waiting room the young ladies had been. So empty it almost mocked him. 
They each turned to him as he slumped into an armchair, stuffing his face with pink donuts. “I am sorry, they provoked me and my anger got the better of me,” he handed over the phone as evidence and Yoongi took it reading the texts out loud. He continued through Adora’s text as the moderator of the group and Seokjin’s overworked matchmaker. She had a lot to say about what happened.
“Look Adora I am sorry, I can’t take it back now” he remembered texting that as he was storming through the palace. 
“Hello, are you still there?” Yoongi said and Seokjin looked up at his younger brother confused.  “What?” He asked  “Hyung, there is a girl,” Taehyung said and sure enough, lying across the couch was the young woman he couldn’t help admiring earlier. 
“Did she see?” Jin asked, scared.  “Of course she did! You jumped out in front of everyone” Hoseok hissed. “Hurry up and get back in there” they shouted and Seokjin took his phone and ran back, hoping this was it. His chance to be normal, his chance to find love. 
Racing back into the other side of the waiting room she was no longer on the couch but by the mirror touching a delicate candelabra. Your eyes met his and he shied back covering his nose with his hands. She smiled, softly tapping the glass, “are you still there?”
He watched you check the chat room and sigh. He was frozen. He knew he had to text you but what would he say? His eyes widened as you picked up the candelabra. Were you going to smash the glass?
Laughter filled him as he saw you trying to stash the object under your blazer to no avail, he pressed the button on the small mic which allowed him to talk to someone in the next room. “I think it is a bit obvious.”
You jumped, dropping the badly concealed object and you paused in shock. He watched as your lips turned up in a soft smile and looked up, “you must be the prince I have heard so little about” “And you are?” “Y/n, I mean my friends call me that my real name is Suryeon”  “That’s a weird alias” he laughed “you are so strange”
“A lot of people don’t like others because they are different” you said in passing  “So did you see?” He asked  “See what?” You smiled, cheekily “So you didn’t see?” He added a little disappointed “You mean you bursting out through the side door and scaring all the girls away?”
“So you did see?”  “I see a lot of things” “You are talking us round in circles, I just want to know?” “Let me tell you what I want to know. Why did you lock yourself up? I mean wouldn’t it just be better to be like, I am me and if you don’t like it get out.” You said looking into the mirror.
Wide eyes curious and examining everything they came across, he felt bare in front of you, he knew logically you couldn’t see him, but why did it feel like your eyes were looking directly at him? 
“I have tried, but my father has a strong hold and his order is to keep me locked away.” Seokjin cut his rant short, figuring it wouldn’t make a good impression.
“Ah I wouldn’t know about that. I have no parents, not anymore” your smile seemed sad, he watched your hands moving on the other side of the glass. It seemed almost familiar but he couldn't quite place the action. 
“Tell me about yourself” you challenged him with a grin while you walked away from the glass and across the room to the couch. Which you pushed across the wooden floor, definitely scratching the flooring but without a care in the world. You removed your shoes and sat barefoot on the couch and smiled.
“What would you like to know?” He asked a little closed off, ready for you to ask him personal questions about why he was locked away and what was wrong with him. 
“Tell me what’s it like to have brothers”
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An hour passed and you had swapped stories of your childhoods. 
“And we would go to the markets in the town and you could make your own candles, you choose a decorative tin and you can make it with whatever scent you want. I love the sweet scents.” Seokjin could imagine it just like in the movie she would be walking in the park music playing in the background. He had to remind himself to listen you your story finding it hard to concentrate when he got lost in your sweet smile.
“One year I made a mistake and got a floral musk one and it haunts me to this day.” He watched as the dazed look in your eye turned sharp and your nose scrunched up in disgust, he thought you were adorable. Unable to stop his fond chuckles that echoed through the next room. 
He hadn’t felt like this before it was warm and he wanted more. Finding himself leaning towards you, but his nose touched the cold hard mirror and he pulled back seeing his revolting features in the reflection of the mirror. “Maybe one day we could make one together. My favourite smell was the buttercream one I made in a little tin with a Strawberry pattern.” 
“The markets sound fun.” Jin sighed, wondering if one day he could see the markets with all the rides and animals and foods and everything. 
“You should go, there are so many fun things to buy and see and try,” the fond smile on your face alone made him jealous that you could go to such a joyous event and he couldn’t even leave the palace. “What about you? What do you buy? I bet you’re secretly an online shopper.”
“Lots of things?” He laughed thinking on his list of purchases and packages that arrive everyday. 
“I think I buy something new everyday”
“What’s the last thing you bought?” You sat up resting your chin on your hand and gazing into the mirror. 
“Don’t laugh!” He warned and you broke into a smile and giggled “hey I mean it you can’t laugh”
“Okay I promise to keep my laughing to a minimum” you pressed your pinky to the glass and he watched it longingly “are you pinky promising too?”
He placed his pinky to the glass and imagined how it would feel to hold your hands properly. “I am now”
“Okay, tell me what did you order online?”
“Bath bombs”
“Bath bombs?” You cackled
“You said you wouldn’t laugh” he laughed along with you, your laughter matching well with his. 
“Your laugh sounds like a window cleaner thing” you commented, and he laughed some more. He had never had so much fun with someone who wasn’t paid or related to him before today. There was a text on both your phones; it was the chat room. 
Adora was saying perhaps he call the meeting a day and you can return another day. “Well I guess I should let you go, you must have more bath bombs to buy. You know, your regular princely duty, give me a review on how it goes. I have a bath and would love to buy a bath bomb, something without glitter” 
“Wait when can I see you next?” Seokjin panicked standing his hands on the glass wanting to stop you. 
“Hmm how about tomorrow?” You asked looking directly at him. It made his heart sore how often you looked directly into his eyes even through the mirror. It’s like you knew where he was. Like you could feel the connection. 
“I will inform the guards and Adora to let you in,” he said, his heart fluttering with the promise of seeing you again. 
You froze in the doorway and ran back opening the door on the writing desk and looking rifling around until you found a small marker. Taking your time to carefully write backwards on the mirror. 
“Call me 0123457689, if you get sick of waiting we can text” you stepped back admiring your writing and waving and scurrying out chaperoned by a guard. This was the first time Jin had seen a woman reluctant to leave his presence before.
He sat stunned at the number and he saved your number into his phone. He wished he had a picture to set as your caller ID as well, but he was unsure if that would be weird to ask for so early in the friendship. 
Seokjin walked to the living room to see the guys smiling up at him, he was embarrassed, his ears turning pink. “He is so cute,” Jimin grinned, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him an affectionate hug. 
Jimin always gave the best hugs, but rarely gave them to Seokjin; he knew it was because Jimin was mildly scared of Seokjin. Jimin was gentle and cared for anyone and everyone to the point where he would cry if he didn’t help, but that didn’t stop him from subconsciously being aware of his nose. 
Seokjin knew they were all similar; they all loved him but there was a hesitancy towards him and his nose. Taehyung was an exception to this, he admired his hyung and called him handsome every single day supported him in every decision he made. 
Hoseok stole the phone and texted her a ‘hey it’s Jin’ text much to the protest of Seokjin who was furiously scrambling for his phone but it was too late, the message was sent. 
The nerves kicked in, he had a plan and this was not it, he was going to wait until dinner and casually send a message. But this just punched his plans in the face, he stared as three dots appeared. Wiggling in a row. 
He waited and you replied, “Hey Jin it’s Suryeon” he giggled walking out of the room leaving his younger brothers staring after him as he walked back to his room. 
“Did he just ditch us for a girl?” Jungkook asked, his voice just reaching Jin’s ears before he was completely out of earshot.
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mistymark · 5 years ago
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the one with the keycard.
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jung jaehyun x reader // 2.9k words // masterlist // send requests here
summary; in which the heater breaks in the hotel room and y/n is really cold. like really cold.
warnings; fluff at the end, mild angst (?), they just hate each other tbh, too much eye rolling, PROFANITY CHILDREN LOOK AWAY
requested; y u p // “Hi i really liked your enemies to lovers fic of yuta if u find some time can u pls do the same with jaehyun him being the lead cos hes my man hahaha:( thanks in advance ^^”
notes; I rlly love bed sharing aus omg // I actually read through it !!! so its Mildly edited !!!
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“Don’t do this,” you begged Doyoung, eyeing the second hotel keycard that he was strategically holding by his side, away from you. 
He tried to hand you the other keycard again, the hotel room number matching the one on the door beside you, “It’ll be good for you two. Maybe you’ll actually be able to get along after this.”
When you huffed at him, blowing your hair out of your face in the process, he rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, placing the keycard into it and closing your fingers around it. “I hate you, you know,” you pouted at him as he started making his way down the hall.
He held up his hands in defeat, “Look, I didn’t allocate rooms. I just lost rock paper scissors.” So they planned this, you thought. Devils.
When he disappeared into his room, that he shared with Johnny, you looked around; all the other guys had already entered their shared rooms and you wondered who would be willing to swap.
[18:32] y/n: any1 want to become the loml and switch rooms with me :)))
[18:33] mark: no
[18:33] jungwoo: no
[18:33] donghyuck: lmao
[18:33] donghyuck: also no
You rolled your eyes as the messages continued from the rest of the group and opened the door using the keycard Doyoung had forced you to take.
“What the hell!” You were startled by the deep voice you were greeted with, its loudness immediately shocking you, freezing you in place as you watched Jaehyun quickly throw his shirt over his head. When you finally looked away, down at the floor, you let the door shut behind you as you dragged your suitcase into the room, letting it rest against the wall of the small corridor. “I was changing,” his tone is still slightly aggressive.
“Sorry,” you mumble, not really sorry at all. He watched you for a moment before looking back down at his suitcase on the bed and zipping it back up, walking over to you to place it beside yours, almost pushing up against you in order to fit it between the table and your own case.
“So,” he starts, looking up and down your body obviously. He’s still way too close for your liking, having not yet stepped away after putting his suitcase down, “they weren’t kidding.”
“Unfortunately,” you deadpan, making your way to the bed Jaehyun had previously been standing at the edge of and dumping your stuff on it.
“Maybe someone will switch with- Hey!” He jutted his chin up at you from where he was standing in the entryway of the bathroom.
“What?” You raise your eyebrow at him, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
He points at the bed you were now happily plopping yourself down on the end of, “That’s my bed.”
“Oh, really?” You narrow your eyes at him as you dramatically turn from side to side, looking for something. “Because I don’t see your name on it.”
He cocks his head to the side at you, his face serious, “I had my stuff on it.”
You smile cheerily, telling him in a sing-song voice that, “Well, now my stuff is on it.”
Jaehyun just turns from you, already heading into the bathroom, “I’m gonna shower before we leave.” He pokes his head around the door, “Don’t come in.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you furrow your brows at him in disgust, rolling your eyes when he shuts the door, a little too loudly.
The restaurant Johnny had picked out for dinner was conveniently located beside your hotel, and somehow you had managed to finish your hair and makeup at the same time Jaehyun had finished showering and dressing.
“Put the heater on before you leave,” you say, not looking at him as you step out of the room, slipping your keycard into your clutch, your jacket sitting securely in the crook of your arm.
“Do it yourself,” he makes his way towards you, flipping open his wallet to make sure he had his own keycard. You don’t say anything and let the door close between you, opting to make your way to the elevators instead.
Looking up from his wallet, he realises you’ve already left and his jaw sets in frustration, begrudgingly turning on the heater before reopening the door and following you to the elevators.
You try to minimise your reaction when you realise he’s walking to the elevator at the exact moment it arrives, and without even hiding it you press the ‘close doors’ button, a smirk on your face.
He fixes his gaze on you as he slips between the metal doors, the two of you silently agreeing not to talk the entire ride down to the lobby. Instead, you stand in silence, facing the mirrored doors. It’s the first time you’ve properly been able to see what he’s wearing, having refused to give him the satisfaction of catching you staring back in your shared room.
He has a jacket hung over his arm, and the fact that you’re doing the same thing annoys you slightly. The white shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned, but tucked into his black pants. You noticed he hadn’t bothered styling his hair, focusing mostly on his clothes and occasionally applying random products to his face in the mirror in the bathroom. Yet, still, his hair looked perfect. It made you mad how good he looked with such little effort.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he smirks, his eyes flitting to yours in the dirty reflection of the elevator door.
“So original,” you deadpan, stepping out of the elevator as it arrives at the lobby. You can see Doyoung and Johnny making their way out of the hotel ahead of you. They must have caught the elevator just before us, you thought.
Due to his longer legs, Jaehyun easily overtakes you, not even sparing you a glance as he paces his way towards the doors. Narrowing your eyes at his retreating figure, you quicken your pace, huffing as you get to the revolving door at the same time as him, pushing on the glass and forcing yourself out before him as soon as the gap is wide enough. 
You end up ahead of him, briskly walking towards the restaurant, unable to see the smug smirk that’s taken over his face as he jogs to catch up to you, “Trying to beat me? How childish, y/n.”
“I just don’t want to be late,” you lie, looking in your purse for your phone, having forgotten to put on your watch before leaving the room.
He reaches the door before you still and opens it widely, waiting for you with a grin. You quirk an eyebrow at him as you go to walk inside, before he salutes you, slipping in ahead and allowing the door to shut in your face.
You glare at him as he laughs, immediately catching the attention of the waitress at the front desk and asking her where Johnny’s table was. She eagerly smiles at him, already entranced by his godly looks - did you really just say that? - and shows him to the table. You huff as you wrench the door open and stalk after them, following Jaehyun to the table.
When you arrive, you’re greeted with hello’s from Johnny, Doyoung and Taeyong, who had already arrived. Jaehyun turned around as soon as they called your name, and offered you a smile, a challenging sparkle in his eye, “Oh, y/n! How nice of you to join us.”
You smiled when Johnny elbowed him in the side, and hung your jacket off the chair at the other end of the table from where Jaehyun was sitting. You smile warmly at Johnny, “Lovely restaurant choice, Johnny Suh. Shouldn't have expected anything less.”
You engage in polite conversation with Johnny and Taeyong, as Doyoung and Jaehyun converse at the opposite end of the table. When the rest arrive, almost all together nearly five minutes later, you order food, opting to purchase a bunch of share plates. While you wait for the food, you laugh with Donghyuck when Mark rants about how much he hates rooming with Donghyuck. “I’d switch with you, but we both snore so,” Mark shrugs, his eyes sympathetic.
You laugh, “No, it’s okay. Rooming with Jaehyun isn’t so bad.”
Hearing you say his name immediately catches Jaehyun’s attention, and his eyes are intense as he tries to work out what you had said, not hearing anything other than his name from the other side of the long table. You narrow your eyes at him, and he does the same before looking back at Jungwoo, his eyes immediately softening at the smiling boy, his smile sweet. Part of you would kill to have him look at you the same way. No, it wouldn't, you correct yourself.
When the food arrives, perfectly timed to be served together on a wheeled cart, there’s chaos as everyone tries to get what they want, until Taeyong suggests everyone moves to where their favourite foods are. You stay seated, your favourite dish sitting right in front of you, and you pout as Mark gets up to go sit on the other side of Johnny.
“What? There’s pizza,” he grins, the seat beside you now vacant.
You could tell who replaced him immediately by the smell of his cologne, which you had watched him apply at the desk in your hotel room.
“What are you doing?” You look at him, and he doesn’t miss the mixture of concern and surprise in your eyes.
“I like this,” he states simply and holds up the bowl right beside him, eagerly scooping the food onto his plate with his chopsticks.
You both talked to the other people beside you rather than each other, the dinner continuing with only a few glares and profanities. You can feel one of your shoes slipping off your ankle and you reach down to fasten it, your foot accidentally slipping off your knee when you lose grip of the strap, kicking the table leg quite harshly.
You hiss and grab the toe of your shoe at the same time Jaehyun groans in pain, his hand immediately reaching under the table to rub his leg. Needless to say, you hadn’t kicked the table’s leg, but rather Jaehyun’s. 
“What the fuck, y/n,” he says through gritted teeth, obviously still in pain.
“Sorry, my foot slipped,” you stutter, your eyes wide in shock.
He nudges your knee with his, his jaw set, “Oops. Accident.”
Johnny, who’s sitting beside him, grips his arm, “Dude. Just drop it. She probably didn’t mean it.”
“Probably,” he mutters, going back to eating, purposefully not looking at you.
After dinner and dessert and a walk around the streets of the city, abandoned at this time of night, you all decide to call it a night, walking back through the lobby doors of your hotel.
“Remember, we have to be up early tomorrow to head to the airport, since it’s an early flight,” Doyoung looks pointedly at Donghyuck. “No staying up late.”
You hear Donghyuck mutter to Mark, “He knows I don’t give a shit what he says, right?”
“You better fucking fall asleep or I’m gonna kill you,” Mark hisses back, and you try to contain your laughter as they both try to hold back their own, with Donghyuck failing miserably.
The elevators are slightly too crowded with all of you, so you opt to catch the second elevator with Donghyuck and Mark, joking with them about how Donghyuck won’t fall asleep until almost 5am. You don’t even realise Jaehyun is still standing with you that you're almost surprised to see him standing outside your door when you say goodnight to the youngest members of your group.
He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door for you, and you’re immediately met with a cool breeze, making you shiver, “What the-”
“I told you to turn on the heater,” you immediately turn to Jaehyun, narrowing your eyes accusingly.
“I did,” he spits back, walking into the room to look at the control panel. You follow him and nudge him lightly to make him move. He looks down at you with a slight frown but moves nonetheless. He flicks the switch that changes the heater from ‘cool’ to ‘heat’, the button now useless. “It’s broken.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” you spit, immediately moving to the desk and picking up the phone, searching the directory for the number of the front desk.
“No one’s going to pick up,” he shrugs, opting to switch off the ‘heater’ so it won't continue blowing out cold air.
You turn to him and open you mouth to reply, but he beats you to it, “Y/n, it’s almost midnight. They’ll all have gone home already.”
You exhale, realising he’s right and letting your arm drop the phone back into its place. “Fine. Um,” you look helplessly at the open suitcase on your bed, all your clothes more suited to hot weather than cold.
You both change silently, alternating bathroom usage to prepare for bed, and from the heated bathroom, you run from the open door to your bed, diving under the covers and shivering slightly.
From his bed, you hear him mumble sleepily, “Can you turn the light off, please?” You reach out and turn off the light above your bed, the light in the bathroom still on. “Y/n. The light.”
“It’s the bathroom light, gimme a sec,” you huff and throw the covers back, slipping off the bed and walking to the bathroom. Jaehyun had been in the bathroom before you, so you hadn’t turned on the light, and that meant that now you were trying to look for the switch.
“Y/n,” you hear Jaehyun say. When he doesn’t get a response, he sits up in his bed, turning around to search for you. Rolling his eyes at your stupidity, he gets up and walks to the set of switches beside the door, flicking off the light to the bathroom.
“God?” You whisper, and he feels his lips twitch up in the corners at the funny comment, before suppressing it.
“Well, me,” he says from outside the bathroom, “But same thing, I guess.” He smiles; he can practically hear you rolling your eyes at his comment.
When you walk out of the bathroom, your bed is closest so you easily find it, hugging yourself to preserve what little heat you have. There’s a small thud and the sound of Jaehyun groaning again, and you cant help but giggle at him.
“Right where you kicked me, too,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Goodnight, Jaehyun,” you make a point of saying goodnight, subtly telling him to shut up.
“Whatever, y/n,” you hear the rustling of the sheets as he gets into bed.
Hours later, you can’t tell exactly what time it is, but you woke up because you were just so cold. You’d put on extra layers before bed, but it felt as though the temperature had actually decreased since you’d first gone to sleep.
You wriggle around under the covers, trying to pull the duvet over your neck tightly, before huffing and kicking the covers off you. You stood up and grabbed the duvet from the bed, rustling slightly as you wrapped yourself in it, forming a white bedsheet burrito. You threw yourself onto the bed and tried to get comfortable again.
You had already closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to consume you again, when you felt your teeth chattering once again. You were surprised to hear the sound of rustling of sheets from the other bed, and a short huff as Jaehyun stood up. He’d only gone to sleep in a pair of sweatpants and a black tank top, but he seemingly had no issue with facing the frigid winds of your hotel room.
You assumed he had just needed to go to the bathroom, but you could just make out his figure as he picked you up, the sheets wrapped around you falling as he threw you onto his bed. You let out a small yelp before appreciating the warmth of his bed. You were shocked when he climbed in beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. You felt your eyes widen, “J-Jaehyun-”
“Just shut up and sleep,” he mumbled, his eyes already closing, and his head leant down slightly so that his cheek rested against the top of your head.
You were surprised by how easily you became comfortable with him; the guy you had fought with, argued with, raced against, rolled your eyes at. The guy that hated your guts was now sleeping in the same bed as you. And you actually enjoyed it. You were sure now, Jaehyun was hot in every sense of the word, his body heat easily warming you, his natural scent encasing you, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your arm was the only sign he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“You’re not so bad, Jung Jaehyun,” you mumbled against his chest, your hand playing with the fabric of his shirt in the dark. Even through the material, you could feel his stomach tense at your touch.
“What did I just say, y/n,” he replied, his other hand reaching to his stomach to rest on top of yours, stilling your movements. When you let your hand fall limp, he didn’t remove his hand, and it was a shame it was dark and you couldn’t see the smile of contentment that had made its way onto his face as he fell asleep with you in his arms.
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getbacktoworknovice · 5 years ago
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(Just an idea I’ve had for a while about Loki and how he might mull over having feelings for the reader who he’s friends with~ LOVE ME SOME LOKI SO I HOPE Y’ALL ENJOY 💚 💚 ) 
Friends. 
That's what you were. If he was putting labels on it. Should he put a label on it? You didn't seem to think it was important. He had known you for what felt like forever though it had only been a few years, having met you on one of his trips to earth. Book stores were his favorite to haunt and he often stuck to himself, off in a corner, never looking up from the words on the pages beckoning to him. 
You had been different. 
You had accidentally bumped into him, making him almost drop his book and you had apologized profusely, your face an embarrassed shade of red. “Aren't you cute…” was the first thing he thought though he hadn't said it out loud, calming your anxiety with a friendly hand and introducing himself. 
“Loki? Like the God of Mischief?” “I am the God of mischief.” 
He was so used to Thor getting all the attention that when you acted genuinely curious and interested in him he was a bit taken aback but seemed comfortable answering your many inquiries. He hadn't realized the hours you had spent there until the employees asked you to leave at closing time. 
You had waved goodbye and he honestly thought that would be the end of it, never seeing you again but that wasn't what fate had in mind apparently. You had literally bumped into each other again a month later, different book shop but same you. He was surprised and though he didn't know how to really use one he had gotten your phone number. He taught himself how to use a phone just to talk to you. At that moment he realized he must have felt...some kind of way. 
You were charming and funny and while he hadn't laughed out loud you managed to get a chuckle or two out of his stoic demeanor and that was a true victory. Most of the women he met were clingy or preferred Thor to him in terms of swooning. Not that he minded, he preferred to be alone. 
Until he met you. 
Something was just drawing him to you and he wasn't sure how to explain it or even what to do. He was so used to being in the shadows, the bastard, the last one chosen...it was nice to be well, the one for someone. He started to come around more and more, especially when you admitted to being lonely. How could someone as wonderful as you be lonely? The very thought! 
Being with you was so comfortable, things he used to find mundane or annoying became things he looked forward to. It always started with a text from you. Hey Loki! I have to go to the mall to do some gift shopping, do you wanna come? Or Ugh, another doctor’s appointment, would you mind walking with me? 
Not at all.
Anything you wanted he was there. He didn't even hesitate. The mall was interesting, people often stared at him like he was some sort of spectacle but he hardly noticed when you kept calling him over to look at things. Not that he wandered far. He only ever left your side when you needed to shop for more personal things.
“Uh, I need to go to Victoria's Secret, do you mind waiting out here?”
He would lean against the wall and wait patiently though there were a few times he couldn't resist taking a peek at you inside the store making you blush and shoo him away. Everyone asked if he was your boyfriend and at first he simply shrugged and denied it, not feeling anything in particular but now? 
It made him blush. 
Especially when you would accidentally do cutesy things completely on accident. Like when you asked to borrow his jacket because you were cold or when he’d hold your hand to cross the street or that one time you were at a cafe and he offered you a taste of his food off his finger. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, that was how cozy he was with you.  And the cozier he got well, the harder it was to be without you. 
Even Thor noticed he was miserable when you weren’t around, often teasing him about his apparently obvious feelings for you. Which he denied. Why give his brother the satisfaction? Though his thoughts had become more centered around you and what you thought of him lately. Did you notice a simple text seemed to summon him? Or that he gazed at you longer than he should? Or that he seemed to smile only when you were near him?
Did you think about him? The way he smiled at you? Or looked at you? Or wanted to find any excuse to hold your hand? Did you notice his subtle brushes across your hand when you went to movies together? Or feel him pressing closer to you than he had to when on the subway or in crowded places? 
Did you notice that he loved you?
Not that he ever thought about it.
Your text had come to him in the middle of the day and he always answered immediately. He was with Thor, checking in with Dr. Strange about something when he had received it. He pulled his phone out nonchalantly, so as not to attract attention and Thor grinned at him. 
“Ah, a text from lady y/n?” He said cheekily but Loki’s face remained a stoic mask as he looked over the message you had sent. 
“Lady y/n?” Dr. Strange asked and Thor put an arm around his brother rubbing his fist into Loki’s temple in a half-hearted noogie. 
“Ah yes, a lovely human woman from here that my brother has grown quite fond of-” Thor explained and Loki shoved him away by pressing a hand to his brother’s face and pushing him out to arm’s length. 
“Stop.” Was all he said and Thor only chuckled, continuing on with his conversation with Strange as Loki gazed down at your text he had yet to answer. It was simple, only a few words, but the words had him completely flummoxed. 
Hey Loki, do you want to go on a date with me?
Were you joking? Did you mean it? Or was this one of those “I have an extra movie ticket” things? He wouldn't know until he answered you but he didn't know how. His brain was blank except for the words there on his screen. He remained, as ever, completely composed, telling his brother he needed some air and walking outside. 
Where he began pacing like a mad man. 
What should he say? Had he been taking too long? Were you messing with him? You were quite the tease at times. When you wanted to be. He only stopped pacing when another text chimed in, causing him to look down at the phone in his hand. 
I have to go to a wedding and I could use the company, my cousins  a real drama queen
He relaxed suddenly when he read that, sighing with a shake of his head and a smile. Ah, of course, he had overthought it. This was y/n he was talking about, obviously, you hadn't been seriously serious about wanting a date with him. Obviously. 
Obviously…
He felt deflated as he texted back, saying he would be glad to accompany you. He quickly typed out another message before his thumb hovered hesitantly over the send button. He shouldn’t. It was a joke, you just needed someone to go with you to a wedding. He didn't need to take it so seriously. He shook his head and pocketed the phone, heading back inside to his brother, an unsent message sitting on his phone. 
y/n, why don't we go on a real date? 
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avinrydarchive · 4 years ago
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hallow’s eve, saint’s day
Author: AvinRyd Fandom: The Bartimaeus Sequence Rating: G Pairing: Gen Word Count: ~8500 words
When in Prague...
--
Some lighthearted spooky shenanigans for you this October.
Written for the Bartimaeus Fic Exchange 2020. Check out the collection on AO3 to see everyone else’s awesome fics!
Read on AO3
Chapter 1: Somewhere: Sometime
 22,643
“...”
“Hello, glad to see you’re awake.”
“Um, hello. Where am I? How long was I...asleep?”
“Well, twenty-two thousand, six hundred and forty three spirits have passed by since you arrived, so I’d assume about five days on the mortal plane? Hard to say exactly, but I’ve had a while to put a model together. “As to where you are? Stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“Stuck. I have many theories as to where and how, but the fact is that we’re stuck here between the two dimensions known to my people—and yours, I’m assuming, since you came from the same direction I did.”
“Oh…
“You said you’ve been here for a while? Is it permanent, then? This being stuck?”
“In theory? No. I believe it’s possible for us to leave, should the right situation arise. However, in practice? I’ve yet to see a situation that would afford an exit so...it might be permanent, yes.”
“...”
“...”
“How long have you been here?”
“I lost count a few centuries ago.”
 1,962,573
“Hey, the gates haven’t done that before.”
“Oh, that usually means someone on the mortal plane came up with something interesting. What… Oh. That’s  very interesting. I wonder…”
“What? No. No, stop—whatever you’re ‘wondering’ it’s a bad idea.”
“Hmmm, doubtful.”
     4,747,821
    “...”
“Finally! That was way too long, don’t do it again.”
“How long?”
“Thirty thousand, six hundred and fifty seven. I didn’t think you were going to form back up that time.”
“I was  so close though. It closed just a fraction of a second too soon. Next time—”
“Next time?! Did you hear how long I said you were gone? You’re going to get yourself dispelled at this rate, and there’s no guarantee it’ll work!”
“It will.”
“Oh, so when I say stuff like that, it’s arrogant, but when you do it’s just fact?”
“It’s not arrogance when my previous hypotheses have all been correct. It’s based off the same knowledge, there’s every chance I’m right. I  know I’m right. I—
“Wait, there’s another one.”
“Ah, no. Hold on—”
“I’m going to do it. This time for sure.”
“Wait! What if it doesn’t work? What if it  does?  Will you— That is, I’ll be…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll work out the method, then come back for you. I promise, my friend.”
“Friends? Is that what we are? I—wait, no!”
“...”
“...”
“I didn’t even ask his name…”
Chapter 2: Prague: Hallow's Eve
“—so there’s no need to worry about it. Piper and Harold can badger me all they want, send all the nastily worded imp messages they like—it’s not like I’ll run out of 'fuck,no's. I’ve got an unlimited supply.” Kitty sighed and shifted, trying to ease the ache in her back without smudging chalk lines. Sitting on the hardwood floor was murder on her over-taxed body, sending sharp spikes of discomfort up the curve of her spine and into her creaking hip joints, but this circle was so fragile she didn’t dare risk throwing a chair into the mix. The ringing at the base of her skull wasn’t terribly comfortable either, but it was a side effect of this spell they’d been unable to mitigate. Over the slight resonance, Bartimaeus’s voice replied, “Alright, alright. And since you’ve left Bruges they’ll probably have a time finding you for a while, at least. How’s Prague?” “Beautiful. Old. Rainy. A bit spooky, but I suppose that’s to be expected.” The laugh ringing through their connection wasn’t just one voice, but many. That was the interesting thing about this; she was speaking to Bartimaeus, but he was only separated from the Other Place just enough to exist as “Bartimaeus”—the rest of the Other Place was nearly an equal part of their conversation, which had taken some getting used to. “See, that’s the appropriate response. Certain modern magicians I’ve known—particularly young, bratty, British ones—have no appreciation for the old magic that city is steeped in. And speaking of magical detritus from a thousand failed spells, you did bring your instruments with you when you left Belgium, right? This is the longest we’ve ever had the portal open, and—” Kitty sighed again, much put-upon. “Yes, Bartimaeus. I have them and they’re set up and everything is stable. There was a tiny spike a few minutes ago, but everything is normal otherwise. I left Bruges to get away from the hovering protective people, you know. Please don’t you start being one now.” Bartimaeus scoffed, but the humming presence behind him was at least half on Kitty’s side, she was sure. “Fine, far be it from me to care about silly humans doing insane experimental magic with minimal education. I place full faith in your absolute knowledge and will immediately cease worrying that the portal will explode in your face and leave a Kitty-sized crater in one of the oldest standing magical cities of the mortal realm. I wash my metaphorical hands of it.” It was Kitty’s turn to laugh, bright and clear in a way it’d taken years for her to get to. “You do that. Anything in particular I should know about the city: places I should go, things to avoid?” “Eh, just keep your wits.” Kitty got a strong, almost visual impression that, had Bartimaeus been in a material form, he’d be looking on with an unimpressed twist to his mouth. This was such a weird spell. “If you’ve got that aura-viewing skill on tap still, keep a sharp eye out. Avoid any bridges without auras—they’re most likely falling apart internally. And costumed men with ‘distinctive’ candles!” “O-o-okay? That’s highly specific, should I be concerned?” The suggestion of a shrug and his words came through crackled with interference. “Not really, he was just a bit creepy by human standards, and that candle… Not a thing for polite company. Thought you’d prefer to steer clear of anyone similar. Don’t go to graveyards tonight, either.” The ringing at the back of Kitty’s mind was escalating to a high whine and she reached up to massage the base of her skull. One of the glass phials outside the circle, sealed and full of swirling gas, was starting to pulse with a faint glow. “Alright Bartimaeus, we’ve got to stop. The spell’s starting to break up. I’ll try again after I’ve spoken with the print master, okay?” “Good, this was probably too much strain on you anyway. Have fun bullying old men into changing books!” The djinni’s voice sounded further away than before, and before Kitty could reply, the connection snapped off. There was a sharp pop and a flash of sparks in the air above her as the spell collapsed—another issue to work on. She’d love to reach out to Button for ideas on a fix, but that would invite more pleas to return to London and Kitty was so, so tired of those. Government was not for her, not even a little bit. Even her drive for activism had waned, though she suspected it was simply burnout—and as Bartimaeus and Jakob and everyone else had said, this was some well deserved burnout indeed. Standing up was a process for Kitty these days: gingerly uncross legs; wait for the shriek of pain to stop; get knees under herself with careful movements; press up using stiff wrists to stand with popping knees; roll slowly upright, feeling every sore vertebrate slot into place. Painkillers. She had a couple left from the drugstore in Burges, right? She hoped so. She was far too tired to be exploring the city for a drugstore—or an apothecary? Who knew what this place had. Her travel bag lay on the bed, flap sagging open to reveal her essentials. The white plastic of a drugstore bottle peeked out from under the sweater Mrs. Hyrnek had made for her, and she’d just reached for it when— “Did you know that, when a djinni is dismissed, the gates between our world and the Other Place are open for precisely eight-point-five-two seconds?” Kitty whipped around. The room was empty; the disembodied—familiar?—voice already just an echo bouncing off the window panes. Light from streetlamps flickered strangely through wavy glass and water droplets. Somewhere, thunder rolled. “Second—” There it was again, but there was nothing to see, no matter how hard Kitty looked. “—and you must know some of this, having visited the Other Place yourself—but did you know that a human soul is, pardon the pun, in essence the same composition as any spirit? Though with a deep affinity for the earth element that other spirits abhor. And that, if sufficiently stimulated and accustomed to the act, a soul can exit the body—voluntarily or not—and bridge the worlds; even following another spirit on its way away from our earthly plane?” The voice was familiar, and yet...not. Kitty could swear she’d never heard this person speak—a boy with an absolutely unfamiliar accent. And yet? And yet, in her mind she heard an echo… What do you presume…?   “And thirdly: did you know that your absolutely ingenious bit of spellwork holds the Elemental Gates open longer and with more stability than any spell used in the last two thousand years? And that, if a spirit were somehow stuck in a crevice of those gates, your spell provides an opportunity for escape not given in those same two thousand years?" The voice came from behind her now, and this time Kitty turned slowly—mindful of the crick in her neck her last turn had caused, and also not near as fearful. She knew now that there was nothing to fear from this voice. On her bed—or rather, floating slightly above it—sat a teenage boy, visible at last. Yellow lamp light and the watery orange glow of the street lights did not bring up warm highlights on his dark skin as they should have. He was nearly transparent and so washed out the ends of his curly hair faded out of sight. Seemingly unbothered by this, he grinned up at her, flush with the satisfaction of solving a millenia-old conundrum and shining with an emotion Kitty suspected might be gratitude. Cautiously, she returned the smile and—in a very steady voice, thank you very much—quipped, "Ptolemy. Are you aware you're floating three inches above the bedspread?"
Chapter 3: Prague: Hallow's Eve  
“Ptolemy. Are you aware you’re floating three inches above the bedspread?” Ptolemy’s face twisted. “Am I? Irritating. Rekyt made this material form business look so much easier than it is.” “Well,” Kitty said reasonably, moving to sit on the bed as well, “he has had quite a bit more time to practice. And human souls aren’t terribly used to having to keep themselves in a form, are they?” Brows drawn in concentration, Ptolemy drifted downwards about an inch and muttered a distracted, “I suppose so,” before managing to drop the remaining space. Now he was flush with the worn bed quilt, but didn’t make so much as a wrinkle in the fabric. Kitty watched in fascination as, with experimental movements, Ptolemy brought his hand to the bedspread, then pushed it into the bedspread, then waved it in and out a few times. In a sudden flash of mischievous inspiration, she grabbed the drugstore bottle she’d reached for earlier and turned to Ptolemy, lobbing the rattling object with a quip of “Catch!” The boy’s reflexes were not quick—even in the best of circumstances he would have ended up bonked in the nose—but it didn’t matter. The bottle phased through his fingertips, then through his face and chest to land with a clatter on the pillows behind him. Kitty met his unamused stare with a grin, absolutely unrepentant. “Had to check. Scientific method and all that.” Still looking a bit miffed, Ptolemy pulled his foot up to “rest” on the bed and wrapped his arms around the bent-up knee. “If you hadn’t built that spell, I’d be tempted to say you’re the least scientific person I’ve ever known.” Kitty rolled her eyes and leaned back to reach around Ptolemy for the bottle she’d thrown—her joints really did ache after that long conversation’s worth of sitting on the floor. Pulling herself back upright after the extension wasn’t exactly painless either, but she was very sure it would be rude to reach  through her visitor to grab something, especially since she’d been the one to throw it through him in the first place. Deftly, she twisted open the puzzle cap and tapped two tablets into her hand before closing it and trading it for a waterbottle in her travel bag. When she’d done, she met Ptolemy’s interested stare with grin. “You’ve only just met me, but you are pretty close to the truth. I didn’t do much with the technicalities of inventing that spell. It was my idea, and I know how it works and how to monitor it, of course, but the construction was a collaboration between Bartimaeus and two magicians I know back in London. They did most of the actual science.” The water tasted strongly of mineral and metal, filled at the last petrol station her bus had stopped at, but it wasn’t awful and got the job done. The moment also gave her time to consider how the hell to move on from here. There was a boy dead more than two thousand years sitting in her boarding room, and she had no idea how he’d gotten there. He seemed to have minimal purpose other than just...arriving—not indicating he had any message or any particular reason for not being able to move on. If his opening remarks were to be believed, he was back on the mortal plane because of a magical glitch in the system. He’d gotten sucked away before death had fully taken hold. Her musings were interrupted by Ptolemy moving, reaching to pull a book from her bag, then huffing when his fingers slipped right through the corner. “This is not going to work,” he muttered, focus completely on the stubbornly stationary book. He made two more swipes at it before giving up that approach and staring intently at it instead. Nothing happened and he flopped back dramatically to stare at the ceiling, hair falling right through the bed. “This is not at all workable. Kitty, I think I need your help.” “I don’t know why. You seemed to be doing quite well on your own.” “Are you always like this?” Kitty snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Pretty much. Why do you think Bartimaeus likes me so much?” A moment of contemplation, then: “That does make an unfortunate amount of sense. Still, I really would appreciate a moment of sincerity, this is a matter of utmost importance.” “Utmost importance, huh?” Kitty laid back on the bed with a groan. “What’s that, then?” Ptolemy’s face was solemn as he looked over at her. “There’s someone else who’s stuck, and I promised I’d get them out.” “They can’t just...fall through? Same as you did?” Ptolemy snorted a laugh, serious moment broken. “They could, but they won’t. Too unsure of the results. If we’d had physical forms, I’m pretty sure they would have tackled me to keep me from doing something this reckless.” A day’s hard travel and spellwork dragged Kitty’s eyelids down—an inexorable pull. She hummed in exhausted consideration, then said through a yawn, “I don’t suppose a normal summoning would do the trick, would it?” Her jaw cracked mid-yawn, nearly drowning Ptolemy’s reply of, “Probably not…” Then, “I sense we may need to continue this conversation in the morning?” “Mmhm…” She’d given up the fight to keep her eyes open. “Well then.” His laugh was softer, almost fond. “Until the morning, Kitty.” She tugged her feed up onto the bed and shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress. “G’night, Ptolemy.” Kitty’s last thought before slumber was a deep confusion as to if this was not all just some elaborate dream, caused by magical backlash-induced unconsciousness. Quietly, she hoped not.
Chapter 4: Prague: Saint's Day  
Early morning sunlight cutting across her eyes pulled Kitty to consciousness. She’d forgotten to close the curtain before going to bed. Odd. She was usually quite conscientious about that—woe betide wherever woke her up too early, up to and including the sun itself. Still, last night had been quite strange, hadn’t it? Her fuzzy brain struggled to remember. Movement in the room drew her gaze. A boy, crouched next to the circle she’d forgotten to clean up. Habit moved her mouth before her brain caught up; she mumbled, “Bartimaeus, we don’t do magic science early in the morning, remember?” His face turned, familiar in shape but not in expression, and everything clicked back into place. Ptolemy looked rather bemused. “Does Rekyt take my form often? Or are you just so unused to any company other than his?” Oh. Right. “...both.” Kitty scrubbed at her eyes and pushed messy bedhead from her face as she sat up, the last night’s events reordering themselves in her mind. Two thousand years’ death seemed to have little effect on the boy sitting on the dusty floor of her sleepy, second-floor boarding room in the middle of Prague. He looked at her expectantly, fingers sketching circles on the floor and making no trace in the scuffed dust. With a groan, she flopped back onto the bed. Ptolemy’s intent gaze was still trained on her, she could  feel it, but her too-tired brain wasn’t up to meeting it and thinking through the morning’s problems at the same time. She stared at the cracked plaster ceiling for long moments before sighing heavily. “Alright then. We’ve got your business of ‘utmost importance’ to get to, right?” An affirmative sound, so she continued. “Well, I’ve got some business of importance to get to today as well. You’ve obviously been awake, thinking about this. What do you want to do?” A glance over at Ptolemy proved Kitty’s suspicions—the boy was practically shaking with the effort of not simply spilling all the plans he’d made overnight. Ghosts, apparently, didn’t sleep. She quirked an eyebrow and he immediately began: “We need to summon Rekyt. You said he helped design this circle, and I want to use it as the basis for mine, but I don’t understand a good third of how it’s build. Magic has moved on and—oh, but Kitty this is fascinating, I never could have dreamed—” He stopped, catching Kitty’s second raised eyebrow and pulling himself back on track. “Right. Between us and Rekyt and some intensive research, I think I can put together a spell that will do the trick. So. First: Rekyt; second: library.” Pushing upright once more, Kitty shook her head. “Other way around. Library first, Bartimaeus second.” She continued ahead before he could interrupt. “A summoning, a real one like that? That isn’t a small undertaking for me. I’ll be knackered for the rest of the day afterwards so—unless you figured out how to conduct an entire summoning while insubstantial last night?—we’ll go to the library and printers’ first, then come back with your research and summon Bartimaeus. Agreed?” Ptolemy studied her closely, quietly, and she felt a blush threatening to flood her cheeks. Ridiculous, really. He’d barely been able to  stand  after his trip to the Other Place; she had no business being embarrassed by her trip’s cost of physical stamina in front of him. A long, long staredown later, he nodded. “Agreed.” Good. She stretched and swung her legs off the bed to stand at last. There was a washroom just down the hall, communal for the boarders but Kitty was the only guest at present. She was glad of it—sharing washing up space with strangers was  not  something she wanted on top of everything else. After digging out her toothbrush, she turned to Ptolemy. “Stay here. We don’t know if anyone can see you yet. I’ll be back in a second.” Ptolemy looked just the slightest bit abashed. “Actually, I do know. A little after midnight I may have...taken a stroll? No one else can see me, or hear me.” “Oh. Well then. That’s good to know. I’ll...still be back in a second.” And she stepped briskly into the hall.
***
Ten minutes later—longer than her usual habit but hell if she didn’t need a good five minutes of overwhelmed solitude—Kitty returned to her room to find Ptolemy floating cross-legged a foot off the bedspread, exactly level with the windowsill so he could look out. At the creak of the door, he didn’t turn so much as roll backwards, ending upside down with curls falling to and fading through the bed. Inane as it was, she couldn’t help but grin. Bartimaeus held such a reverence for the memory of his old friend; Kitty wondered if that was the source of his gravitas in the guise, or if the new freedom of insubstantial spirithood was breathing new mischief into an otherwise solemn boy. The grin stayed as she moved to pack up her travel sack once more. She saw the grey chill outside the window around Ptolemy’s inverted form and tugged her jumper from the side of the bag where it’d gotten jammed. It was grey-blue wool and knitted by Jakob’s mother—a gift. She saw Ptolemy’s eyes catch on the textured fabric as she finished tugging it on and offered her arm. “Have you figured out how to touch things yet?” He shook his head but reached out anyway. As expected, his fingers swiped right through it. Less expected was the world-wringing sensation of his fingertips passing through her wrist. Early on in their experiments with the communication spell, Kitty had directly touched their “spectral conduit” to the Other Place, as Mr. Button had called it. Before Bartimaeus had snatched her back, she’d felt her self, her essence, tenuously bound to her body at the best of times, begin to be siphoned out and up and away. It felt like that, except in reverse. Connection was made and into the vacuum of her not-quite-full body flowed another gust of person. She felt him for a moment, entranced and inexorably drawn to the lure of earthen control once again before she was able to batten down all hatches and shove the presence away. With a jerk, Kitty yanked her arm back. She could feel her eyes popped wide in panic as she stared at Ptolemy, who was also wide-eyed but in fascinated joy. “Kitty,”  he breathed, wonder under his words, “Kitty, let me try that again. That. It was… I could have— we could have—”   “No!” Her voice was too loud in the quiet room and Ptolemy flinched. “What? Why? I just want to try it. If we were a bit more careful, I might be able to—” “You might be able to do quite a lot! And you won’t be trying, thank you very much.” His brows furrowed in consternation. “Alright, then. I can try it with someone else, I suppose. I wonder if you need their true name to—” “No, Ptolemy.” She didn’t yell that time—her voice was as flat and cold as London pavement. She cut off Ptolemy’s next attempt at speech with a harsh, chopping motion of her hand. “No. That is an invasion of self no commoner can even attempt to consent to, even if you did ask, which it sounds like you weren’t going to do.” Hideous silhouettes danced behind her eyes, though she tried to push them back. Glowing, demonic eyes in the faces of helpless puppets that haunted her nightmares. Breathe. She just had to breathe through it, just like she did all the other times. Through sheer force of will, her heart rate slowed down to something resembling healthy and she was able to bring her vision back into focus. Ptolemy was staring at her—very human, but also not quite. She forced down a shudder. “Come on. We’re going to the library. I’ll explain why you can never, ever do that, but I’ve only got it in me to do it once, so you’ll have to hear it along with the master printer.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just turned, snatched up her satchel, and headed out the door, closing and locking it behind her. Ptolemy was a ghost, he’d be able to follow just fine. He did. She couldn’t hear him coming behind her, but she now had a disturbingly unerring sense of his location that she hadn’t possessed a moment ago. Possessed. With a shudder, she rubbed the skin of her wrist under the jumper, trying to scrub off the sensation even as she mentally tracked Ptolemy’s progress behind her back. They went in silence like that—Kitty walking at a brisk pace with Ptolemy trailing behind—for nearly ten minutes of winding through dreary streets. Kitty had a map, and directions from the proprietor of the boarding house, which she trusted more. Concentrating on the confusing tangle of twists and turns busied her nervous mind into calm—calm enough that when Ptolemy cleared his throat, her quiet “hmm?” was genuinely amicable once more. “Where is this?” His voice was soft, awed. “I know I’ve...been gone a while, but I’m fairly sure this not Alexandria.” Kitty snorted and replied, “Prague,” before snapping her mouth shut. The street wasn’t busy by any means, but there were still people about who might look sideways at the out-of-place British girl talking to thin air. Quickly, she stepped from the sidewalk to stand under the awning of a cafe. The map made crisp sounds as she unfolded it and brought it up to her face, hiding the movement of her lips as she whispered, “We’re north of Alexandria, by a lot. Across the sea, past Rome, up where we call Eastern Europe, now. I’ll find you a map when we get to the library, yeah? For now, I can’t be talking to myself all the way across the district.” “Right.” He agreed with a quick nod, already distracted by the pastries displayed in the cafe window. Rolling her eyes, Kitty folded the map once more and headed off. The grey above threatened more rain and she quickened her pace. It wasn’t a short walk to the Holy Roman Archive and she’d rather not have to make the last third of the trek getting dripped on. Ptolemy was at her side now, gasping and exclaiming every other second at some new thing he’d glimpsed, and she had to actively suppress a wide smile. Grinning inanely at nothing wasn’t a look she wanted to project either. As they began to emerge from Old Town’s winding alleys, though, the city’s mood began to pick up and match Ptolemy’s joy. They stepped onto the larger, more toured streets around the great Charles Bridge, where tourists and business people alike made their way on foot regardless of the weather. Ahead, the bridge’s towers loomed and, just off to the left, Kitty saw the large buildings of the Klementinum. She made straight for it. The tourist traffic was, thankfully, a bit dimmed by the unpleasant weather and it was only another few minutes walk through ornate, baroque halls and courtyards blanketed in autumn-hued ivy before they reached the Holy Roman Archive. Home of what was left of Prague’s magical lore, it was  also adjacent to the most influential of the Czech Publishing Guild’s members: Petřín Printers. They handled all of the magical texts to come out of Prague; all of the magical knowledge of Eastern Europe flowed through this print house and into the Archive. Kitty stepped past the enticing hush of the Archive, hoping Ptolemy would follow since she couldn’t physically drag him like she was afraid might be necessary. A glance to the side showed the boy’s feet were indeed dragging, eyes gazing with longing at the doors. “Soon. We’ll go there next.” He followed with an insubstantial sigh. “Yes, alright.” Kitty blinked. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. It was so quiet in these halls, anyone could hear. The lobby of Petřín’s was unassumingly quiet, but Kitty wasn’t fooled. The walls hummed with the aura of a spell, most likely a silencing charm to keep the workings of the printers from disturbing the immediately nearby library. At a desk just inside, a man sat scribbling in a ledger with a fountain pen but he looked up at Kitty’s approach. His cheerful greeting was in Czech—thankfully one of the phrases she’d picked up staying with Jakob and his family. She replied in kind, following up with a somewhat abashed, “English? That was about all the Czech I know.” The man laughed and nodded. “How can I help you?” “I need to speak with Mr. Pavel Vlastislav? I’m here on rather urgent magician’s business, as well as with a delivery from Karel Hyrnek, of Hyrnek and Sons. I think he sent word ahead that I was coming?” “Hmmm, let me take a look.” The clerk flipped through his ledger, then ducked behind his desk to grab another book. As he did, Kitty looked around and saw Ptolemy studying a world map to the left, artistically rendered and nearly as large as the wall it was painted on. She couldn’t see his face, but she had an idea as to what it might look like, and what he was going to sound like in three…two...one… Right on cue, as the clerk popped back up into view, Ptolemy’s voice flooded into her ear as if he were standing right next to her and not ten feet away. “Kitty. Kitty this is— Is this the whole world? The entire globe? Have people truly been to all of these places?” The clerk was chatting at her as he flipped through his notes with Kitty nodding along distractedly, trying to pay attention as Ptolemy continued, “—and this map! It’s nearly as good as the cartographers of Alexandria’s work! Rekyt described many of these places to me, but they were not all in places I could plot on an available map… You said we’re in...Europe? To the east—oh! Yes, this must be it! You’re right, we are much, much further north. I wonder—” “Ptolemy! A minute? I need to focus,” was what Kitty thought to herself in a moment of irritation, mouth clamped tight over the words, but the boy stopped rambling immediately. “Ah, my apologies.” Well, that was fun. Maybe that mishap back at the room had been good for something after all? It was the only thing she could think of that might have caused such a strange phenomenon… Distracted, she had to once again refocus on what the clerk, Radim, was saying. Frankly, she’d missed what he’d last said, but then he was standing and ushering her through a door on the right and chattering about the privilege of being able to see inside the prestigious print house and Kitty was tuning him right back out. She was here on business, not to see the inner workings of yet another magical publishing shop. This was her third one in the past year; they all sort of looked the same at this point. Pavel was in his office when they arrived, Radim knocking a quick rap on the doorway before entering. The man inside stood, head still tilted towards a jet black sparrow perched on his shoulder—the imp’s presence explained ease with which he greeted her, a heavily accented but cheerful “Ms. Jones!” before Radim even had time to speak. He and Radim had a quick exchange in Czech too fast to catch, then Radim stepped out and Pavel gestured her to enter. “Come in, come in, Ms. Jones. You have news and a package from old Karel in London, hm? Please, sit down and tell me why he needs send such a lovely lady friend, rather than this news in the post.” Kitty swallowed. This was the hardest part, always the hardest part, and she’d already done it twice. Out of her bag she pulled a plain book, bound in brown cloth and printed on scrap: a manuscript printed by Mr. Hyrnek. There was also a pamphlet. Assuming today went well and Pavel accepted her request, she would need write her friends back in London and request him to send her another copy before she left Prague. Hands shaking, she set the book on Pavel’s desk and took a deep breath. Ptolemy perched on the edge of the desk, invisible to Pavel and watching her intently. Another deep breath, trying to dislodge the shaking behind her breastbone. Her trimmed down, bare bones narrative of the London Disaster was practically recited by rote now. Only by keeping it clipped, clinical, and precise was she able to get through the worst of the story without stuttering, but she’d told the story before and she’d tell it now. Unfortunately, the shuddering terror of the hybrids needed to be the focus of the tale—that’s why she was here. Magicians, the humans who practiced the enslavement of spirits, needed to know what happened from a first-hand source, told with compassion and urgency, or they would simply take the whole incident as either fairytale, or use it as a way to further demonize both the British Empire and the spirits themselves. If this came out wrong, the enslavement of spirits would worsen, not move closer to eradication. When she’d finished, wrapping up with a quick note of the Interim Council’s formalization of an integrated Parliament and the supposed plans for the country, both members of her audience were silent. Staring. This was a normal reaction, she’d gotten it from the print masters in both Paris and Madrid, and she didn’t blame them or Pavel. It was a lot to hear. It’d been a lot more to live through. Eventually, Pavel spoke. “That is...a harrowing tale. We’d heard of some horror from across the channel when the empire broke two years ago, but to think…” He swallowed. “Yes, this needs to be recorded. I assume this manuscript is the account?” Kitty nodded. “Yes, originally published by Hyrnek and Sons, but we all agreed that something like this should be shared. If nothing else, please, we request you bring this to the Archivist and have it included in the archive. If you are willing to print and distribute it, that is for the best, but I understand—” “I will, of course, do my best to ensure it is placed in the archives. And we will see what can be done about distribution.” Reaching out—just missing Ptolemy, who jumped away before his arm could be brushed—Pavel picked up the pamphlet. “And this?” “A list of the spirits who perished in the disaster, to update the newest editions.” And maybe a few others, but who was to know? Pavel flipped through it and Kitty stood, scooping up her satchel once more. Alarmed, Pavel stood as well. “Ms. Jones! Surely you don’t mean to leave so soon?” Exhaustion weighed her voice, two haunted years dogging her steps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vlastislav, but I need to be going. I’ll leave the address I’m staying at with Radim and I’ll be in town for a few weeks. Find me there if you need anything.” That was the nice thing about her situation—after all the horrors and all the insanity and quite literally visiting another plane of existence, social niceties were near the bottom of her priority list. With a parting nod, she let herself out of the office without another word. Ptolemy was silent as she retraced their steps back to the lobby, still silent as she left her contact information with Radim, silent all the way until they’d reached the Archive once more. He didn’t suggest a book to start with, so Kitty made her way to one of the study tables and pulled another book from her satchel, rather than any of the shelves. Delicate pages with scorched edges crinkled as she turned them, scanning the handwritten translations in the margins. She’d been offered a fresh copy of Ptolemy’s Apocrypha with an English translation printed in, but Button’s book was special, and translating it with Bartimaeus’s help was a good memory. Credit to his perturbation, when Ptolemy finally spoke it wasn’t about the book she held. “I’m sorry. What happened… I can’t imagine. I didn’t realize the kind of trauma what I did would cause you.” “You couldn’t have,” Kitty replied diffidently, blithe tone slicking her thoughts to icy smoothness. “Like I said, it’s something no commoner would be able to understand, and most magicians too. The only ones who could come close are those of us who were there, and even then… The one who would best understand the bond you were trying to attempt is— Well, he’s dead.” Silence again, then: “And you? Would that make you the closest living authority?” “Actually, no.” She was able to look up and smile. “That would be Bartimaeus, so let’s hit the books and then you can ask him yourself, yeah?”
Chapter 5: Somewhere: Sometime 
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Dread emptiness pressed in around him. Is this how his friend had felt, all those years alone? When the spirits passed—back and forth and back and forth—he could sense their movement, know their passing, but there was no sound to hear, no sight to see. Even this place he was stuck, a place he felt should have something of substance to perceive was just...nothing. To stave back the madness, he began to study the passing spirits with whatever senses were available to him. Thousands upon thousands passed before his examination, and on every few he focused his attention. Going one way, they seemed to mournfully coalesce from liquid freedom into a speeding, aerodynamic form to rocket through the other side of the gate; coming the other, solid misery flared and flittered out in joyous reaching for the far bank. Nowhere did the strange, fluid channel appear again. Only cold, clinical, slippery-walled openings to pull the beings to and from. He’d reached out to one once, only to find himself sliding off, lacking whatever was needed to be included in the transference. Probably for the best. Once the temporary madness left him, his logic reasserting itself over the crushing loneliness, he drew away from the traffic in fear. To be loosed in the fearful current without anchor or guide? No, he couldn’t… Or at least he thought that. And thought that. And thought that until he came to the point—singular and horrifying—that he could.   His watching took on a new edge: analytical, searching. Time barely existed here, but some amount of it had passed before something caught his attention. Another direct stretch, calling for a specific being, but something about it was...softer. It was inviting but wary, familiar but fearful, like a stranger singing a long-buried song from childhood. Carefully, not flinging himself with abandon like someone had, he approached. It was tenuous, as all of these were—temporal and not meant to last long, unlike the fluid path they’d seen before—and this one was even more ephemeral than most. Holes in the weave, it could have been described. From one end, movement came, barrelling closer and closer and...familiar. Yes, the being speeding down was definitely a construction of substance he recognized but couldn’t put a name to. Names were hard here. Names were hard, but suddenly decisions were not. As the spirit sped past, he impressed some effort upon the pulling force, imposing himself on the construct until he fell through in a flurry of movement that he could suddenly feel, not just perceive in an abstract sort of way. He could feel it and he still felt it as he tumbled through. The portal did exactly as all the others did. He felt himself being compacted and compressed, separate from the being it was actually meant for thankfully, as he’d hopped in a good moment past it, but the bonds were ill-fitting. A familiar word that wasn’t his word. And so, when both he and the other tumbled out the other side, he felt himself spinning and drifting, formless and dazed as his traveling partner took form in a circle.
Chapter 6: Prague: Saint's Day  
In a brilliant bit of foresight, the first thing Kitty asked Bartimaeus to do once he’d arrived was cast a nexus about her room to silence all noise coming from within. A good move, as her explanation of the situation first garnered her a bemused “what?” Followed by some silence. Then some contemplation of the figure who was making a concentrated effort to appear on the mortal plane to more than just Kitty. Then followed by a roar of the same word that had come before. There was a lot of yelling for a short time. Possibly some crying as well, not that Kitty would ever tell. But when it was done, and all explained and settled and understood, she might have asked Bartimaeus to remove the nexus. Absentmindedly, she forgot. This turned out to be a good thing as, five hours later, both she and Bartimaeus stared at Ptolemy over their sketches of runes, figures, and half-circle diagrams in consternation. Together, their query was definitely loud enough to have been heard by the good matron downstairs. “You don’t have their name?! ” Kitty groaned and set her pencil aside. They’d been at this for hours, and only now did Ptolemy mention he was lacking this key piece of their puzzle? Bartimaeus looked just as crestfallen in his guise of a young, dark skinned man, wearing a traditional desert kilt and bedecked with a necklace of amethyst, but also not terribly surprised. “Ptolemy, my friend. I always knew your disinclination for names would come back to bite us in inconvenient places. Admittedly, this is the furthest situation from what I could have imagined, but still.” The ghostly boy in question was not meeting either of their gazes. He was staring at the bedspread he sat on, stunned silent. Then quietly, obviously not in reaction to what either of them had said, he breathed a word Kitty had never heard in her life. Bartimaeus, however, choked on his non-existent spit, indicating that it was probably something foul. After a few more moments of unintelligible invective that had Bartimaeus’s jaw on the floor, Ptolemy muttered, “I can’t believe I forgot. We were there for what must have been years, how did I not ask? I promised. I’m a magician, I know how important names are. How could I have forgotten?” Kitty winced. They had maybe been a bit harsh. “It’s alright, I’m sure we can figure something out…” Ptolemy stood up and began to pace, making circuit after circuit of the tiny room. Amusingly, every time he turned a corner, he also stepped upwards about an inch, beginning to spiral upwards as he muttered to himself. Kitty glanced over at Bartimaeus, who shrugged, leaned over and whispered, “Don’t look at me, this is new. He didn’t used to pace.” “Hmm…” A ghost pacing was a strange phenomenon in that you couldn’t hear them, the fact that they were pacing of above your head at this point notwithstanding. It was painfully quiet. Kitty and Bartimaeus went back to fiddling with their designs, pencil and quill scratching loudly in the silence, but still working around a glaringly blank space where, in all of them, a name had to be placed. “I need a calendar!” Ptolemy’s voice, loud in the room, had Kitty jumping nearly a foot out of her chair. He was suddenly right next to her, face intent and determined. “I had a formula, I just need to do the calculations and we can figure out when my friend arrived. From there— Well, only a few specific circumstances could cause this, so maybe someone will have heard about it happening?” “Well, it’s somewhere to start…” Bartimaeus hedged, and Kitty agreed with the hesitant tone. How on earth were they going to sus out a single death of magical happenstance, even if they could narrow it down to an exact date? Kitty caught Ptolemy’s gaze again. There was a light, one she felt mirrored in her own past. Hope. And hell if she could ignore that. She’d wrestled demons, ransacked governments, and crossed dimensions for a hope like that, and well—Ptolemy had been the source of a lot of that hopeful vision. It was the least she could do to try and help him in turn. As Ptolemy still hadn’t managed enough substance to actually touch anything, Kitty was the one to walk to her duffel and dig out yet  another   book. She was becoming quite the librarian herself, these days. This one was worn, thick, full of cramped handwriting with a ribbon bookmark between the last few pages. Returning to the small table, she set it down. “Not a calendar, but close. My journal goes back two years, almost. Think your friend showed up in about that timeframe?” Ptolemy nodded firmly. “It couldn’t have been longer than that. Now, let me just…” He trailed off, fingers tracing invisible numbers on the table. With his brows drawn together in a focused frown, Kitty thought privately that he’d never looked less like Bartimaeus’s replication. Similarly, the fond expression Bartimaeus watched him with was a brand new thing to see on the spirit’s face, and something warmed in her. For the span of about an hour, a long time ago, Kitty had cared about a djinni and a boy more than anyone else in her probably-about-to-end life. This wasn’t the same, couldn’t ever be the same, but she liked it anyway. Across the table, Ptolemy was now rattling off numbers to Bartimaeus, who flipped through the journal pages—first in large swaths, then fewer and fewer at a time. Closer and closer to the front cover until— “That’s the end of it.” Both of them were staring down at the first entry on the first page of Kitty’s journal—a date, five words, and a tiny shard of glass taped to the paper. Bartimaeus continued, “How much further back?” “Two days.”   Kitty looked at them blankly. They both looked back—Ptolemy glowing with the triumph of a puzzle solved, Bartimaeus with...something. Probably the same something building somewhere in the pit of Kitty’s stomach. “There’s no way,” she managed eventually, voice hoarse, throat suddenly dust dry. Bartimaeus’s reply was just a nervous chuckle while Ptolemy glanced between them, his high fading into confusion. “What’s the matter?” It took Kitty two tries to clear the lump from her throat. “Erm, well. You remember what I said about the only person who would understand possession by a spirit being dead? And what Bartimaeus said about the Glass Palace?” “Yes?” “That all happened two days before my first journal entry. I didn’t think to start recording events until— I was a right mess, basically, until then.” Understanding dawned on Ptolemy’s face and brought a smile to his face. The smile grew, bit by bit as he looked between his two friends. “Well then, shall we try? It’s our best guess, and the worst that will happen is it doesn’t work.” They both watched as he breezed over to where Kitty and Bartimaeus had left their sketches. A moment of careful study, then he pointed to Bartimaeus’s page—the djinni smirked at Kitty, who stuck out her tongue. “This one. Let’s try this one.” He bounced on his toes, each bounce taking him higher into the air. “Come on! I still can’t hold the chalk, help me draw this!” So they did. The dingy, dusty boarding room was a flurry of activity for long minutes. Bartimaeus did most of the kneeling and drawing while Kitty held the string guides and lit the few candles they needed for the spell. Ptolemy supervised, directing them in drawing a half-circle diagram. Lines stretched out from it in rays, similar to Kitty’s communication spell, but with a few slight adjustments. More geometric than ornate, the completed spell was chalked innocuously on the floor as Bartimaeus scratched out the last few runes. At the apex of the arch, a blank space had been left. Almost reverently they all knelt, Bartimaeus handing Kitty the chalk as she regarded the bare patch of floorboards before bringing the chalk down. Her handwriting was nowhere near as calligraphic as Bartimaeus’s—her chicken scratch legible but not beautiful as she spelled the name out: Nathaniel   Chalk still in hand, she traced under the letters with a finger, the spell still cold and not yet activated. Together, Ptolemy and Bartimaeus reached out as well—and then another transparent finger traced along the top of the word. Glancing up, her gaze met with blue eyes, happy and calm in a way she’d never seen them while he was alive. “That’s what it was. I guess I just needed someone to write it down before I could form up properly. Took your time about it, didn’t you?” Surprise jerked her hand and brought her in contact with all three of the other beings in the room. Her vision spun and everything was very mixed up for a very confusing moment. Kitty was, for seconds or hours, not just Kitty anymore. Four souls rushed around and around in a feedback loop, bringing nausea to a body that wasn’t even really hers to experience it. It was like being back in the Other Place. Actually, it felt exactly like that, and the similarities echoed through their loop loud enough to bring the chaos to a balance. Carefully, they all extracted themselves from the morass—all but Nathaniel at least understanding the mechanics of the feat—and another moment brought Kitty solitude in her mind once more. She had fallen onto her backside, legs twisted awkwardly, and three beings of unearthly substance lay sprawled nearby. On seeing their mess, pushed up on her elbows, a giggle bubbled up from her throat. Then another, and another, until she couldn’t hold them back and collapsed onto the dusty floor, laughing until their was no more breath in her body. Around her, Ptolemy joined in first, then Nathaniel, then Bartimaeus, until they were all cackling like maniacs for long minutes.  Good thing the silencing nexus is still still up, Kitty thought faintly, which sent her and her friends off into more gales of laughter. They laughed until all their surprised energy had been spent in joy. Jittery adrenaline rush settled to a wondrous warmth in Kitty’s chest as she looked at her friends. There was no telling what they would need to do now. But as far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter. They were together, no one was dead in the traditional sense of the word, and the world hadn’t tried to end for two whole years. She didn’t get sappy often, but today seemed like the day to try—the most pleasant Hallows Eve and Saints’ Day she’d ever experienced, by far.
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daysswithyou · 5 years ago
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Fallen Chapter 24: Déja vu
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Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)
Warning!: Cursing and swearing, mentions of blood and bodily wounds
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Tear me apart,
Rip me to shreds,
Leave me as nothing but skin and bones,
An empty shell of what I used to be before.
---
With the stars and moon hanging overhead, Younghyun dropped you off outside the female living area and made you promise that you’ll take a shower before meeting him for dinner an hour later. You nodded, mustering up a weak smile just to show him that you’re alright. You returned to an empty room; Esther should be with Jae now, presumably having a dinner date. You scrubbed your body vigorously in the shower, wanting to get rid of every last bit of dried salt clinging to your skin. Your skin was red, raw and tingling by the time you exited the shower but you could care less. At least you felt clean, clean from all the dark thoughts that previously clouded your mind, though you could never be fully cleansed of the painful memories. Walking along the hallways, you jumped when you saw someone waiting outside your door.
Bubblegum pink hair… classic red nails… This was Ayeon standing outside your room, no doubt about that. You gritted your teeth at the sight – seeing her always spelt trouble. Straightening your back, you ignored her but alas, before you could even get a grip on your doorknob, her voice had reached your ears.
“Drinks? My treat.”
“No thank you, I’ve got somewhere to be soon.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket Rachel. It’s just harmless drinks.”
You turned around and crossed your arms before fixing Ayeon with your hardest stare.
“Really? The last time I checked, you don’t ever find me without good reason.”
Ayeon chuckled, but it was a mirthless laughter. Oh, how she wanted to scratch that stare off your face but not yet. Not now. Like a female lioness, patience will be her greatest virtue now – before she went in for the kill later.”
“Alright Rachel, you got me. I do have some things that I want to tell you.”
“You can just say it here.”
“I would need a little more time than that. So why not get comfortable over drinks?”
Ayeon lifted her red lips into a smile, and you knew that you weren’t actually left with a choice. Unless you went with her, she would not stop hounding you. You might as well get it done and over with.
“Wait here.”
You entered your room and slammed the door shut before leaning your back against it. You sent a quick text to Younghyun to tell him that you’ll be late – he didn’t need to know that you’ll be with Ayeon else things are going to get really messy. You swiftly switched off the phone screen once the message was sent. Remembering that she was still outside the door, you scrunched your face up in annoyance, gentling messaging your temple due to the massive headache that was currently splitting your brain open.
What the hell does she want with me?
---
Ayeon decided to go to a bar by the beach and you mentally swore for agreeing to her stupid deal in the first place. Being on the beach again reminded you of today’s earlier events and you could feel the discomfort crawl under your skin, almost like a million ants were festering under your skin. But there was no way – no fucking way – that you’d admit this weakness to Ayeon. Suppressing your fear, you held your head up high as you walked behind her. As the bar got closer, you could hear the addictive tropical house beats blast from the stereo speakers, the occasional lyrics becoming clearer once you reached the hut. You recognise some of the people at the bar as your classmates and you gave them a small wave as a greeting. Some waved back but quickly frowned when they realised who you came with. Guess your bad relationship with Ayeon is still widely remembered by everyone. You heaved a sigh as Ayeon greeted the bartender with a smile and waved them over.
Let’s just survive this conversation, then go get dinner.
You’re broken from your reverie by her question.
“Martini for you?”
“Yes. Lime. Please.”
“One vodka for me, and one lime martini for the lady here. Charge both to my bill.”
You watched as Ayeon passed her black card over and you kept your gaze on her, expecting her to initiate conversation. But she merely glanced at you from the side of her eyes, smirking as she did so.
“You’re in no hurry, right? Let’s enjoy the music and ambience as we wait for the drinks.”
This bitch is playing with me. Fucking hell.
“Sure.”
You kept your voice levelled, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that your blood was currently boiling inside because of her. Thank goodness Lady Luck was on your side tonight, for the drinks arrived shortly and you resisted the urge to gag when you saw the bartender throw a wink at Ayeon, to which she giggled like some love-struck main in a chick flick. You felt a vessel pop in your temple, and you quickly brought the drink up to your lips, hoping the hot liquid would distract you from that sight.
“Out with it Ayeon. I know you’re not here to enjoy my company. Say your piece, and then we can both part ways.”
“Ouch Rachel, I am hurt.”
You tsked at Ayeon and you saw the shift in her gaze. She released her lips from the rim of the glass cup before turning fully to face you.
“Since you’re so eager to leave, Rachel, I shall cut to the chase. I know about the deal, and I want Brian back.”
Upon hearing her words, you scoffed out loud with your tongue in cheek. The audacity of this bitch to want him back after all the damage she has done. Has she no shame?
“Ayeon, in case your memory fails you, perhaps I should remind you that you’re the one that broke up with first and then publicly humiliated him. After all the damage you’ve wrought on him, you want him back? Your shamelessness is truly astounding. Besides, you can’t just ask for it back. It no longer belongs to you.”
You expected Ayeon to land a harsh slap across your face for insulting you, but she merely pulled her lips back into a smile, showing off her perfectly neat rows of white teeth.
“Oh really? I think it does. Normally I would have taught you a lesson for insulting me but I shan’t waste my energy when I’ve got an easier method to deal with you.”
You watched as Ayeon tapped her phone screen a few times before your phone screen lighted up – as with all your other classmates surrounding you – with a notification from the school app.
You continued to glare at Ayeon. What game is she playing right now?
Ayeon doesn’t waver under your gaze, she merely picked up the stem of her glass delicately before bringing the clear liquid to her lips.
“Check it. I’m sure you’ll be very interested to see it’s content since it involves… a certain… someone.”
The bite in her last word made it clear who she’s referring to and your fingers moved on their own accord to swipe at the notification. A video post with no caption is presented to you and you pressed the play button. The whole video is dark due to poor lighting and you barely make out his figure until the moonlight shone across the planes of his face, illuminating his prominent, handsome nose.
Younghyun… but what the hell… why does he look so dishevelled… and that suit…
You recognised the suit now – it was the one that he wore when he showed up looking all dazed and frightened at your doorstep. The image of his fear-stricken face appeared in the forefront of your mind again, the harrowing image knocking the wind out of you. Audio emitted from your phone speakers again; someone was shuffling offscreen. When you saw her, that’s when you felt the phantom, ice cold hands wrap their fingers around your throat, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you as it got harder to breathe with each passing second. You’d recognise that pink bubblegum hair anywhere – one that is currently sported by the same lady sitting in front of you in flesh.
The pair in the video was none other than Ayeon and Younghyun, the former whom now had Younghyun pinned against the wall as she aggressively sucked his face. Younghyun had one hand up her thigh, with the other on her lower back. Then, a flash of white hair in the video – Dowoon. Dowoon whom had accidently witnessed this sinful sight that very night. The weight of the truth finally hit you all at once, one that had you stumbling out of your chair as your phone clattered against the glass table top.
So, this was what happened that night. This was what Dowoon was trying to warn me about this entire time. Gosh… I’m such a fool. Younghyun cheated on me. Another guy fucking cheated on me – again. I’m so stupid for believing him… for believing that he loved me.
Against your wishes to not show an ounce of vulnerability in front on Ayeon, your body betrayed you as your throat ran dry, scalding tears already pooling at your lash line. Your grip on your phone is so strong that the screen almost cracked, your nails pierced into the soft flesh of your thigh and drew blood in the process. Ayeon snickered from her spot in front of you, relishing in the sight of your emotional torment. She broke you again – twice now. Oh, just how much more pathetic can you be?
“Like what you see Rachel? Told you his heart still belongs to me.”
Your body felt so weak due to the torrent of emotions currently raging within you – so incredibly weak that you can’t even make a sound to retort Ayeon. Then the sound of a suppressed giggle came from behind you and that has you snapping your head up to look at the person. Your classmate is currently stifling their laughter behind the palm of their hands, the fingers pointed at your pathetic self. More laughter erupted around the bar, some openly jeered at you now. This sort of scene… it’s all too familiar to you.
The canteen.
Jaebeom.
The public breakup.
It’s happening all over again – you’re the prey laid out in plain sight for all the wolves to see, before they closed in to rip you into shreds. Your head rung painfully with their shrill laughter; your heart hammering so painfully hard in your chest that you thought it might shatter your ribs. Your head is jerked back by Ayeon to face her, her perfectly manicured fingers digging viciously into your jaw,
With a sneer, she spat: “Go on, run Rachel. Run like you always do, run like the pathetic creature that you are. That’s what you do best anyways – running from all your problems.”
She then pushed you off to the side, sending you tumbling off the chair. She stopped short of kicking sand into your face – you looked wretched and pitiful enough. She didn’t feel the need to trod all over you again, you’re already doing a good job making yourself look absolutely miserable. Rising on wobbly and unsteady feet, you stumbled out of the bar, moving further away from the group of people that wanted nothing more than to tear you apart.
One step,
Then the second,
And another.
Soon, you’re thundering down the length of the beach, kicking up sand behind you as their laughter got softer and softer,
And then,
Silence.
The quiet static of cricket chirps filled your ears, the sound mixing up with the distant lapping of the waves upon the shore and the rustling of palm trees above you. It was quiet – just you against the world with your broken heart. On a normal night, you would have enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere and view; the stars still looked pretty hanging like shining crystals in the sky but tonight… your soul felt void. Completely drained and sucked dry of every good emotion in this cruel world – you honestly doubted that you’d be able to feel positive emotions after all the turmoil that you’ve gone through in your life, more so after tonight’s events. Younghyun’s cheating incident was really the last push that sent you tumbling over the edge, crashing into a million pieces with no hopes of ever being whole again. No matter how hard you tried, the unwanted images from before refused to leave your mind. Even when you squeezed your eyes shut, the cursed images kept replaying again.
Her lips on his…
His hands on her thighs…
The forsaken clothes on the floor.
One need not be told to know what happened next. The memory sent a shockwave through your body, and you lurched forward violently as your chest caved in on itself, forcing you onto the hard gravel, scrapping your knees and palms in the process. Yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil within you. A strangled sob escaped you as the first tears streamed down your face like a thundering waterfall – never ending and soaking your outfit wet. You really did not want to make a fool of yourself and cry in public but you knew you could not keep it in anymore – else the pressure would kill you. So, there in the middle of the street, you wailed as you felt your heartstrings snapped. It was physically possible to die from a heartbreak and for a moment, you considered the possibility that you might. You were not sure how long you cried for – minutes? Hours? Time lost it’s meaning to you. After all – you no longer had an appointment to keep, or a place to be. You cried yourself dry, till you could not physically produce tears anymore. You felt like you were going to pass out any moment, and the first instinct would be to call Esther for help. To talk? To come and get you? Maybe both. You just knew that you wanted your best friend by your side now to hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright – because you no longer had the strength to say those words to yourself – maybe you needed someone to tell you so that you would believe it.
You tapped your phone screen weakly, only to realise that it had been damaged beyond repair during the incident just now. The screen was glitching – now it would be impossible for you to contact Esther. The additional distraught of being left with a damaged phone and no means to contact anyone caused another wave of frustration to bubble up within you and you let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound scratching against your hoarse vocal cords. With blurry vision, you slowly rose from the ground and stumbled forward. You didn’t know where to go – all you knew was that you wanted to go far away – to a place where no one would recognise you, and no one you knew could find you.
Away from Ayeon, away from Younghyun, away from this damned life that you led.
To leave things behind, you’d have to keep moving forward – and so you did. You dragged your limp body forward along the unknown path with no idea where it’ll lead you. Even when you walked right into the middle of the road, you didn’t notice until you saw a burst of light so bright that pain shot right through your eyes as the horrible screeching of tires pierced through the silent night, the smell of burning asphalt making you gag. It took you a few seconds to realise that you nearly got ran over by a car – almost, but not quite. The shock sent you collapsing onto the floor, scrapping your already wounded hands more. Any further abrasions and your skin might just be ripped to ribbons. The headlights of the car were inches from your face and when you lifted your eyes to look at the driver, you aren’t even surprised anymore.
She wanted you dead, maybe she was just making sure of it now. From her seat behind the wheel, Ayeon sneered at you. You’re a pest that just won’t die, constantly interfering in her life and making it difficult for her. And now? You nearly sent her to jail for an almost hit-and-run incident. The bright headlights gave Ayeon a clear view of you and she scoffed. Not only did you feel like a pest, you even looked like one. Disgusting – a creature that no one would want to look at. Your eyes were bloodshot from all the crying; no doubt. Your hair has fallen out of the neat braid it once was in, the strands of hair clinging to your face. Your nice outfit now stained with red, your perfect hands and feet now ruined from the damage you’ve caused yourself. Ayeon always knew you were… pathetic… but she never imagined this level of degradation that you would wreck upon yourself. Ayeon does not have sympathy to help you so she swerved her car and left you in her dust. Someone will pick you up eventually, or you could get run over by another car for real this time – she honestly could care less.
As for you, you just sat where Ayeon had left you, much too distraught to move yourself to a safer place. The world hates me so much, it’s trying to kill me now. It should have just now when it had the chance to. Why am I not dead yet? You chuckled darkly to yourself like a lunatic at your thoughts, pressing your forearm against your face. But the laughter soon gave way to more tears, though you previously thought you were incapable of producing more after crying yourself dry. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat by the side of the road, listening as cars passed you by.
The next time you saw light, Esther’s face was right in front of yours. One look at you, and tears immediately brimmed in her eyes – a rare sight for someone as tough as her.
“Rachel… what happened to you?”
---
The notification appeared on Esther’s phone screen when Jae went to get coconut drinks for them.
Ayeon? What’s the crazy gal up to again? Another video? What is this?
Esther pressed play and by the time Jae returned to her side, her face had turned ashen with her jaws clenched and lips pressed into a thin line.
“Esther? What’s wrong?”
“That bastard. That bastard that we call a friend. He cheated on Rachel.”
Jae nearly dropped the drinks when she turned to face him – never before has he seen such feral rage in her eyes, the fire blazing fiercer with each passing second.
“What are you talking about? What did Brain do?”
“This. This is what he did.”
Esther shoved her phone in Jae’s face and clicked play. Oh, now he knew. Now Jae knew why Esther was going mad with rage. There was no mistake about it – Brian and Ayeon are back together again. And now the whole world knew.
“I need to find Rachel. I need to tell her this before she finds out on her own.”
“Wait Esther, let’s not be brash. What if she’s seen it already?”
“Then all the more I need to be by her side to comfort her. Twice, this has happened to her. She’s gotten her heart broken by jerks that don’t deserve her. I know he’s your friend Jae, but this is where I draw the line. You don’t have to follow me, and I’m sorry but date night will have to wait.”
With that, Esther took off down the length of the beach, racking her brains on places that you might possibly be at. Jae returned the drinks to the stall owner before hollering after Esther, as the stall owner hollered at him to take the money back. She ran to the other end of the beach when she spotted you there. A speck in the middle of the road. That’s you for sure – she’d recognise your favourite sundress anywhere.
“RACHEL!”
Jae thought he would finally be able to catch up with Esther after running for so long, but he only groaned when he saw her picking up speed again. How she coulf outrun him despite all his basketball training still baffled him – he’s truly got one hell of a girlfriend.
When Esther finally got to you, she nearly stumbled back from the shock. Who did this to you? Who reduced you to this weeping, hollow shell of a person that she once knew as her best friend? The wounds – oh gosh the wounds were the worst. Long cuts across your legs and arms, the wounds festered for a long time; she could tell because of the dried blood against your white dress. Some were deep with gravel stuck between the gaping wounds, she could only pray that you would not need stitches but she was not optimistic. But it was your eyes that told your story without words – oh, how could someone’s eyes hold so much sorrow in them? The blood smeared across your face gave you a ghastly look, but it was really the look of anguish in your bloodshot eyes that broke Esther’s heart and forced tears through her eyes.
“Rachel… what happened to you? Who did this to you…that monster! The wounds… they look really bad. You must have been out here for so long so let’s get you to the hospital first alright? Those wounds must be cleaned before it gets infected.”
Esther moved to help you up gently, but you merely gripped onto her shirt tightly, pulling her down to sit beside you.
“It hurts Esther… it hurts…”
“I know Rachel, I know. That’s why we got to get them cleaned alright? Then they’ll hurt less once they’re recovering.”
“Not the… not the wounds. Here. It hurts here. It hurts so much I think I might just die.”
“Where…? Oh, oh no, Rachel please don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears… please don’t cry…”
When Esther finally looked down at you, you weren’t holding onto your wounds in pain like a normal person would. Instead, you were clutching onto your heart, fisting the fabric above that area so hard that you might tear the material at any time. Nothing could compare to the emotional pain that was still wrecking your body at this point in time. Even Jae – whom was watching in the background – felt anger slowly rise within him for the pain his friend had caused you. No one deserved to suffer through this sort of emotional torture. Brian had disappointed him, and all of them. As you continued to sob into Esther’s embrace, Jae’s phone rung in the background.
Brain Kang calling
Not now Brian.
Jae’s phone continued ringing, and when Jae finally lifted his eyes to look at Esther, he knew that she could never forgive him.
“If it’s Brian calling, tell that bastard to get lost, and never appear in front of my sight again. I will rip him to shreds if he does, I could never forgive him for what he had done to her.”
Jae gulped, swiping the red button as the world around you went black.
Like déjà vu, your whole world came crashing down on you.
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oumiyuki · 5 years ago
Text
Seducing The Dense
Summary: Honoka can’t concentrate during math class because of a button that has come off from Kotori’s uniform. 
Pairing: KotoHono
Genre: Fluff!!! (๑>ᴗ<๑) Romance~ (♡´౪`♡)
Words: 1425
Read me at fanfiction.net or Archive of Our Own too!
Author Notes
This is part of my vampire KotoHono series “The Daily Life of Loving a Really Cute but Dense Vampire”. Chapter 26. But I felt like changing up how I post things here~ :3 so have at it! XD
You can totally read it without reading the rest too OwO I’m actually hoping y’all read this and get interested in my KotoHono shenenigans! Then enjoy the other chapters. hehe~ (´∀`)
May you enjoy~!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is one of those boring math classes in Otonokizaka High. Honoka seated beside Kotori felt fidgety as she starts feeling a weird, tingly feeling throughout her body. Honoka glances over to Kotori and noticed that one of her button at her chest area has come undone. Honoka gulps as she was unable to pull her stare away. Staring harder, Honoka bores into the sight of Kotori's bra. And attempts to stare harder, wondering if she could catch glimpses of Kotori's breast itself from the small hole.
"Honoka-chan~ Honoka-chan~" Kotori calls Honoka's name in an erotic manner.
"Honoka-chan. Honoka-chan!" Honoka blinks and makes eye contact with Kotori.
"Kotori-chan?" Kotori's tone was that of a hushed shout, nowhere erotic as before.
"The teacher is calling you..." Kotori clarifies.
"...Oh." Honoka looks to the front and as reality registers in her mind, she bounces to her feet. "What?!" Honoka shouts in surprise, in turn surprising the teacher and causing the class to laugh out loud.
After trying and failing to answer the teacher's question, Honoka was sentenced to staying back after class to complete 10 questions. Honoka sits back down with a heavy sigh and her head down so Honoka did not notice Kotori looking her way with a worried expression, wondering what she could do to cheer Honoka up. Kotori's own internal struggle led to her letting out a soft sigh which caught Honoka's attention.
"What's wrong, Kotori-chan?" Honoka already forgetting about her worries as the concern for Kotori easily outweighs that.
Kotori shakes her head and flashes a tiny smile to assure Honoka. Honoka was about to accept that everything is okay, but when her eyes falls back onto the glorious view of Kotori's bra and breast, Honoka's breath hitches and mind stops working. Well, working in the sense that it was filled with “Kotori's bra. Kotori's breast.” on repeat.
"Honoka-chan?" Kotori cocks her head to the side with a confused look. Oblivious to the fact that with how she has positioned herself facing Honoka, gives Honoka a vintage spot of Kotori's front. Feeling the blood rush at her face, probably covering her cheeks up to her ears, Honoka places both hands on Kotori's shoulder and leans into Kotori's ears to whisper.
"K-Kotori-chan..."
"Honoka-chan?" Kotori has her own set of pink shading her cheeks at Honoka's close proximity plus breath on her ears. Honoka gulps.
"I can see your b-b-bra and b-b-b-breast..." Honoka was barely capable of relaying the message without stuttering on the words that start with 'b'.
"Eh?" Was all Kotori could say.
"Your b-button is undone..." Honoka finishes telling the news, takes a deep breath and pulls away from Kotori. Taking an extra second before looking up to see Kotori's current state. If Honoka thought her blush would be able to die down and Kotori would've fixed her button in that extra second, she was utterly mistaken. Kotori just sat looking at Honoka shyly as red painted her face too; though Honoka thinks it's not as bad as her own.
"C-could you...help me fix it?" Kotori asked in a quiet and embarrassed voice.
In the next few seconds, Honoka's mind exploded and reformed. "H-h-help you fix it?" Honoka stared directly into Kotori's eyes for affirmation which Kotori gives through a small nod.
"Mmph..."
Honoka reached over with shaky fingers and four attempts to successfully button up Kotori's shirt. Honoka let out a breath she did not know she was holding and was about to retract her hands, but Kotori held onto her left hand, placing it over her chest. Honoka's hand flinched on contact and her head jerked upwards to question Kotori.
"Thank you, Honoka-chan."
A crooked and nervous smile was plastered on Honoka's face. "N-No problem..." Honoka felt like her heart was going to break out of her ribcage with how fast it was pounding against it.
"Kotori-chan...My hand..?" As reluctant as Honoka was, she knew class was still going on. Okay, who are we kidding? She was more concern for her hummingbird heart than the lesson of a subject she can no longer remember was what.
"Ah, sorry about that Honoka-chan." Kotori equally as reluctant or more as she loved the close contact, warmth, plus the reaction Honoka was giving filled Kotori with hopes that her feelings might be reaching the ever-dense crush she has, but return the hand she must.
Honoka gave a shaky laugh as she moved her hands back. "I-It's no problem really."
The rest of the lesson went by with nothing entering Honoka's head, only reminded of its existence when the bell rang and the teacher came up to her table to remind her of the assignment she has been given. Honoka groaned her response as the class spilled out of the classroom to head home.
Honoka spent the first ten minutes frowning at the paper before slumping over the table.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know…”
“I want to wait for you.” Kotori had a gentle smile on.
Honoka turned her head to face Kotori. She got into a sitting position with a broad smile when Kotori’s smile instilled some energy into her. The abrupt action and childlike expression made Kotori giggle.
“I might take a while.” Honoka returned her attention to the reason she can’t go home.
“I could teach you.” Kotori whispered into Honoka’s ear which made Honoka visibly stiffen.
“Y-You would?”
“Mmph!” Kotori scooted closer to Honoka on the bench, their thighs literally sticking to each other.
Kotori’s teaching was simple for Honoka to understand, however, Honoka realized halfway that when she asked for explanations or answer checks, she will get to experience a soft sensation on her right arm as Kotori presses her body close to Honoka for a better view of the assignment. With that, Honoka would purposely ask for an explanation for the same question over and over again, her pen have long broken in half under the force of the vampire’s clenched hands but the remaining ink allows for Honoka to still write. It was not a lie when she said she did not understand though, she had a hard time concentrating on the actual words the melodic voice was speaking.
With the assignment finally complete and checked, Honoka turned and glomped Kotori as a show of appreciation and satisfaction. Kotori returned the embrace by snaking her arms around Honoka’s waist to pull Honoka closer. All was fine until Honoka decided to take a whiff of Kotori’s sweet apple scent and open her eyes to a great view of exposed neck. Honoka’s hunger was piqued and a growl sounded.
Kotori giggled into Honoka’s shoulder. “Want to grab a bite, Honoka-chan?”
The giggle vibrated through Honoka’s body and the word “bite” made Honoka instinctively plant her face deeper into Kotori’s nape, mouth opened and fangs starting to grow-
“Honoka.” The door of the classroom opened and Honoka’s blue haired childhood friend breaks Honoka’s trance. Fangs immediately retracted, Honoka pulled away from Kotori in an attempt to regain control of herself. Kotori was slightly upset by the sudden loss of contact and had a small frown.  
“Umi-chan! You’re still around?” Honoka looks up in surprise.
“We need to visit a certain district, Honoka.” Umi emphasized on the ‘chi’ of ‘chiku’ (Japanese for district) referencing blood.
It took a minute before Honoka’s confused expression change to one of understanding. “Ahh! That’s right! I’m, er, done with my assignment now, so…we can go! Sorry, Kotori-chan. I promised Umi-chan, so…” Honoka rambled on before apologizing to Kotori and picking up all her stuff to head out the door.
Kotori barely had time to take in her situation and gave a “Bye bye, Honoka-chan, Umi-chan.” Before Honoka and Umi have disappeared down the halls. Sighing loudly since no one was around to catch Kotori in such an unladylike act, Kotori started packing her bag.
Just when the mood was getting good…
Kotori hugged herself for a moment.
Honoka-chan’s warmth…I think I managed to make Honoka-chan more conscious of me today though…She was staring at me so intently, though it was mostly my chest…With the way Honoka-chan tense up when I press my breast against her arm, I’m guessing Honoka-chan is really conscious about me now. Mm…I should continue grabbing Honoka-chan’s attention with this tactic!
Kotori giggled to herself before leaving the school, happy with her decision and progress made in making the dense Kousaka Honoka notice her. Little did she know, going down the path of seduction isn’t going to be an easy one, when puberty is hitting the young vampire.        
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Author Notes
I wrote this all the way back in 2017 before I shared the first chapter of “The Daily Life of Loving a Really Cute but Dense Vampire”. :P (and now I made some edits)
It’s still undecided whether I would write Kotori attempting to seduce Honoka more in future chapters. OwO But this is rather cute. :P So I thought why not share it! XD hehe~
I hope y’all enjoyed it! :D
Leave comments if you like~ (every review motivates me to write moreeee~ hehe~ *O*)
See ya!
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