#i hope this is coherent i got so so sleepy halfway through

[shivunin]

Ship ask game!!

So, let's say…

3 for everyone (or the most interesting ones)

20 for Elowen

27 for Arianwen

42 and 43 for Salshira and Josie Of course pick only the ones you'd like. ✨

Hooray! Thank you so much, Arja <3

(Ship Asks)

3. What was their first impression of each other?

Wen: Oh, an ambush, cool -> what is this guy's deal why is he looking at me like that?

Zevran: Can be boiled down to "at least the person who's going to kill me is both very fast and very good with those knives" -> why is she looking at me like that what is her deal?

Maria and Fenris are here

I think most of my Lavellans thought something along the lines of, "uh-oh, he must be the military one, yikes." Definitely wary, though they each handle wariness a little differently (Salshira reacted by flirting constantly, for example). In Salshira and Cullen's soulmate AU, there's the added dimension of a sort of uncomfortable recognition without a clear origin

I think Cullen's first impression of most people is a mixture of wariness and circumstances, so I think his was generally "What can they do to fix this?" mixed with "They might have killed the Divine." (I do think there's a cut voice line from the romance where he says something about thinking they were beautiful, but I'd have to look it up).

Salshira: Thought Josie was gorgeous (Josie is very much her type), but also that if she needed anyone on her side it was going to be Josie (Leliana plainly likes her, Cullen is clearly uncomfortable with the nobility, so Josie is the linchpin)

Josie: Sympathy for her position as a Dalish elf in a very precarious position, instant recognition that the charm is a mask

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

They're both excellent listeners, but not great at expressing their frustrations aloud until they reach a breaking point. So I think they have venting sessions with each other that end with some kind of physical reassurance (a hug or kiss).

It can be effective, but learning how to handle something before it gets really bad works for both of them a lot better. At that point, they have other outlets together (sparring, chess, etc) that help them manage their emotions before they hit a wall.

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Wen isn't big on talking, so she has a lot of ways to show Zev she loves him without saying it. She leaves him gifts fairly frequently (later, she sneaks them onto his person as a sort of game and sign of affection, like braiding gold into his hair while he's distracted in the morning). She likes to sit next to him and lean against him when she thinks he needs comfort. Later, she'll play with his hair or help him get ready for the day.

Zevran, I think, is an acts of service person (he was sort of. not given a choice in his early life, so I think some of this is environmental), so he offers things to take care of Wen. He'll give her a massage if she seems tense, steal her little cakes even if she won't admit she wants them, or write her lots of letters because he knows how much she worries when they're apart. It's not so much about what he writes, but about the fact that he makes a point of doing it often so she never has to doubt that he still cares for her.

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

Josie's family adores Salshira. She makes a great first impression on Yvette, who (of course) immediately tells the rest of the siblings that the Inquisitor is sweet on their Josie. Salshira is endlessly devoted if she feels like she's welcome and wanted, so I think she makes it very easy for them to believe that she cares about Josie and wants to stick around. After the events of the game, they have a long formal courtship while Salshira is living at the family estate in Antiva, so by the time they get married nobody can imagine them doing anything but staying together as part of the Montilyet family.

But oh man. Poor Josie. I think she tries really hard, but it's very difficult to build a relationship with your partner's family when you know said family has hurt them deeply. Salshira's mom is not into the idea of her ending up with a human (in any universe) and I think that's a pretty difficult barrier to scale. Salshira's Keeper likes Josie a lot, though; I think she has an appreciation for Josie's skills at diplomacy, and once they meet she can plainly see that Josie truly cares about Salshira for who she is and not what she is.

43. If they picked out outfits for each other, what would they look like?

I think Salshira would pick something a little revealing to be cheeky, but she'd be totally unable to handle it when Josie actually wore the garment in question.

Josie would pick something in a rich color, I think, just to look at Salshira in it. She doesn't tend to wear very formal or fancy outfits, so it would be a special occasion treat to see her in something a little fancy. Maybe something like this dress from Ever After (shhh pretend it's period appropriate):

[gojo-x-reader]

Confessions in a Drunken Night

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of sex (not related to drinking), getting drunk, job stress

Tags: communication is key

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2k

Request:   “ Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I have read your scenarios and I fell in love with them They are so cute and adorable . If you take a request would you mind taking mine. About a f/reader who is depressed about her job pressure and Gojo not being home lately so she would be drinking at home not knowing that Gojo had arrived and was sleeping and he would wake up because of sound and he would find her saoul , and he would try to make up with her , with a lot of fluff please , thank you .”

You heard the door hurriedly slam from the other room and sighed. This was the third time just this week alone that date night was interrupted with you and your boyfriend, Satoru. Every time, he promised that nothing would come up, but every time something did. You didn’t understand why exactly his job was so important for him to just leave like that. He was just a high school teacher. 

You sighed again, then picked up the uneaten dinner you cooked for the both of you. You placed the food in containers for later, if there was a later with him. You might end up eating both portions by yourself. You finished up cleaning up the romantic date you had prepared, now incredibly sad and frustrated. 

You started pouring yourself a glass of whiskey. You weren’t a fan of the stuff straight, but tonight seemed like the night to drink. How many hours of overtime did you put in this week just to try to have an evening off to spend with your boyfriend? How much sleep did you lose just to stay ahead? How many times did your boss scoff because you asked off not one night, but three nights this week? You’d be lucky if you could get another night off in a month after this week. 

You sipped on the whiskey, cherishing the warmth it brought to your core. You grabbed the bottle and glass and took them the to couch. The whiskey bottle was less than halfway finished; might as well finish it tonight. You lounged on the couch as you brought the glass to your lips and reminisced about your relationship with Satoru.

You had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t feel like it. You were practically in a long-distance relationship, despite only living twenty minutes from each other with how scarce you got to see him. He was always busy on “business trips” or whatever for his job. The thought that he was cheating on you crossed your mind a time or two, but Satoru didn’t seem like the type. 

The two of you met in your favorite bakery just down the street. You had fought over the last piece of tiramisu, which he eventually gave you in exchange for your number. He was incredibly easy to talk to and within a few weeks, the two of you were going on your first date. He was suave, but you soon learned that was just a front he put up. The true Gojo Satoru was a dork with an almost insufferable personality that somehow you were able to stand. 

You were sure that in the year you had been dating, you had only gone on three successful dates with Satoru and well over fifteen attempted dates. The three successful dates all had a special place in your heart.

The first successful date was your first date. It was a cozy café date followed by a nice walk through the nooks and crannies of Tokyo you never saw on your work commute. You remembered how you gained the confidence to hold Satoru’s hand on the first date, only feeling like there was a literal wall between you two for a few seconds. It was strange, but it was the only incident, so you never brought it up to him. 

The second successful date was a few months later with another failed attempt in between the first and second. This one was a trip to a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. This was the date you learned that your boyfriend was loaded. Not just well off, but rich enough he could spend a couple hundred thousand Yen and it was just pocket change to him. Somehow, the reveal left more questions than answered them; namely, how did he become so rich with a teacher’s salary? Was he part of some kind of Old Money or something?

 He never told you where you were dining, so of course, you dressed like it was a casual outing. Before heading to the restaurant, he bought you a dress that was worth more than two years of your yearly salary (against your protests). It was a gorgeous dress, in your favorite color. It still hung in your closet; while you wanted to sell it for some extra money, you didn’t want to upset Satoru. 

The third and final successful date was your first anniversary. Neither of you wanted to go out, so you both stayed in. The two of you cooked dinner together; you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Satoru had a talent for cooking and wanted to taste more of his cooking. He insisted you were a much better cook than him, but you disagreed. 

After dinner, one thing led to another until you were swept off your feet literally to the bedroom. 

You smiled fondly at the memories of your first time together. It was only two months ago, but nothing had happened since then even though you desperately wanted a repeat of your anniversary tonight. Ah, you remembered why you were drinking. You swallowed the rest of the whiskey in your glass, grimacing as it burned in your throat.

You were already tipsy after one glass. You were a lightweight; you were sure you would be shit-faced before the end of this bottle. Satoru never drank, yet he always had the audacity to make fun of how much of a lightweight you were. 

Who knows how long passed before you finally swallowed the last drop of whiskey. At that point, you were fighting your eyelids that were trying to close. Without Satoru there to entertain you as you were tipsy, you became a tired drunk. You just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to leave the couch. If you got up, you’d probably stumble and fall back anyway. So, you grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and wrapped yourself around it.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over you right as you closed your eyes. You missed Satoru, desperately. It felt physically painful being away from him at the moment. You brought a hand up to your eyes and wiped them, rolling over and finally going to sleep for good. 

You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your form. You groaned. Your head was pounding from dehydration, you were still sleepy from the alcohol; who dared interrupt your sleep?

You blinked a few times to find Satoru and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. He appeared slightly worried, but also tired.

“Time?” you asked, not even forming coherent sentences yet.

“Almost 3am,” Satoru answered.

You groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Does it matter?” you snapped back. You then realized how hostile you sounded, then started crying. “Please don’t be mad at me,” you said between hiccups. 

Satoru took you into his arms, soothingly rubbing your back to calm you down. You suddenly felt worse because you were a mess, just because he left for an emergency with work? Pathetic. 

Your sweet, incredible boyfriend helped you slowly sit up, then obtained a glass of water for you to drink. You chugged it, not even realizing how thirsty you were. Satoru refilled it for you, urging you to instead sip the water. 

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“...Nothing,” you answered.

“Nothing? I come home to find my girlfriend passed out on the couch drunk off her ass and sad. You’re upset, and I want us to work through this. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” you admitted. 

“Obviously.”

“I don’t feel like you--” hic “--love me as much anymore. You keep leaving during our dates, you don’t spend much time with me anymore, and my job is just so stressful because I keep having to work overtime to get days off and I doubt I can get another day off for a month now. That just makes me so fucking sad because I wanna see you every day but I can’t--” 

Satoru gently placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze was filled with so much love it rendered you speechless. “That all?” he asked. You nodded.

Satoru tenderly placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” he admitted. Suddenly, your brain raced through all of the possibilities, fixating on the idea he was cheating on you. Oh, no, here it comes… 

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Excuse me?”

That was not at all what you were expecting. What did that even mean?

Satoru backed away. “Here, try to grab my hand.”

You reached out to him, feeling the familiar wall like you did on your first date. “Oh!”

“This is Infinity,” he explained. “As you get closer to me, you slow down, unable to reach me. It’s a jujutsu passed down through my family.”

“I think I’ve felt it before. On our first date.”

Satoru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I always keep my Infinity going at all times, 24/7, even when I’m asleep. I only let down my guard around you because I trust you with my life.”

“So. What does this all mean? What else are you keeping a secret? Your job too?”

“No, I really am a high school teacher. For the first years, to be exact. The bunch this year are… interesting to say the least. So I’ve been having to stay late to train them, and I actually do go on business trips. A lot of them are overseas.” 

“What are they for?” You were now very invested in your boyfriend’s secret life he had been hiding from you all this time.

“We exorcise curses.”

“Curses?”

“The evil beings of the jujutsu world. I have to go on more missions than the average person because I’m one of the very few Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers in the world. It’s the highest rank a jujutsu sorcerer can reach. And your boyfriend is the strongest in the world.”

“Are you really, or are you self-proclaimed?” you asked, knowing his personality. Satoru pouted. You pinched one of his cheeks gently, then dragged his face to your lips, pressing them against his cheek. “I’m just kidding.”

“I really am the strongest, though,” Satoru continued to pout. “Anyway! I think it’s time for us to sleep. Tomorrow, I can take you to see my school and you can meet my students!”

“Really?” you asked, excited. Finally, your boyfriend was allowing you into the part of his world you were always curious about.

“Really,” he promised. 

You yawned. The sun was just starting to peek through your windows. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to your room. You weren’t quite sober and made sure to warn Satoru about that, lest he moved you too fast and caused you to throw up on the two of you. 

(“It wouldn’t get on me, though,” Satoru argued. “I can just activate my Infinity and I’ll stay clean.”)

Satoru tucked you into your bed, then made his way to your side. You were actually kind of glad you decided to get drunk tonight, as the liquid courage gave you the confidence to speak your mind to your boyfriend instead of keeping your feelings inside like usual. Tonight, you learned a side of your boyfriend you never thought existed. It brought you relief and curiosity to learn more about him and his life. 

But for now, you needed sleep. Meeting part of Satoru’s world could wait until tomorrow. 

[the-bau-quinjet]

I don't give a damn

Steve x f!reader

Summary: Sometimes Steve's forgets how times have changed. You're there to sing him a song about it.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kisses, themes of sexism, i guess spoilers for Annie Get Your Gun (although that's from the 50s so I don't really think it needs much warning lol)

Word Count: 3020

a/n: another karaoke fic (because I wasn't kidding when I said I love them). Most of the songs I've been listening to have come from a playlist aptly titled ffs. It stands for both "for fucks sake" and "feminist fight songs" in my mind, hence the similar theme of this fic and My Name Isn't. This one was inspired by Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation"!

Masterlist

You and Steve don't see eye to eye on most things. It's not that you don't get along. You respect each other too much to fight about everything, but you have differing opinions on most things.

Take movie night for example. Cap always wants to watch something from his list. He's always trying to pick a "classic".

Most of the time, you would rather watch something you haven't seen. Unless it's a comfort thing, you don't really like repeating movies.

You both understand the other's perspective, so rather than a screaming match you typically settle it with a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Unfortunately, that's how most of your interactions go.

Outside of missions and team building nights Tony forces upon the group, you don't spend much time with him. The two of you are just polar opposites.

The problem with that? You have a massive crush on Mr. America himself.

Not that anyone else would know that. You're highly trained in the art of covert operations. You know how to hide your feelings, although you are certain Natasha at least suspects something.

You've resigned yourself to taking this secret to your grave, that is until Cap says something one movie night that sets you on edge.

-

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!" You held out your fist, having chosen rock.

Steve smirks, covering your fist with his open palm. "Paper beats rock, time for another 'classic'." He squeezes your hand before letting go. He picks up his book, trailing the pencil down the page for the next movie.

The high you were currently riding from his touch quickly dissipated when he announced the movie he wanted to watch.

"Annie Get Your Gun is next on the list." He smiled, closing the book before returning it to his pocket.

You couldn't help but scoff, "who suggested that one?" Annoyed at the sexist themes of the 50s musical movie.

"Someone said to watch all of the best pictures/musicals from the Academy Awards to see how times have changed." Steve scrunched his face in thought. "I can't remember who though."

"What? Most of those movies are terrible if you ask me." You whined a bit, annoyed at the idea of watching your least favorite type of movies.

"Your just annoyed cause you lost rock, paper, scissors. Let the man cross it off his list and move on." Sam chimed in from across the room.

You huffed, making a face at Sam before turning to get more comfortable on the couch. "Fine, this one still sucks though." You frowned, nonplussed by the idea of watching another 'classic' with another sexist storyline.

Somehow, you sat through the musical without any interruptions, unless you counted aggressively rolling your eyes.

The second it was over, you were turning the TV off, excited to be done with it. You were three steps from the exit when Cap called out to you.

"I don't know why you hate that musical so much, Y/N. I thought it was sweet what Annie did for Frank."

You narrowed your eyes as you turned back to him. "Would you lose on purpose to 'get the girl'?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the phrase. "Would any of you?" You looked at all the men in the room.

"I don't think it'd be very fair. Wouldn't want her to think she was better than me if she's not. Besides, it depends on the girl." He may have been going for a flirty tone, but you just grew angrier at Steve's response.

"Right, because why should you have to pretend to be worse to appease someone else?" Everyone in the room could see where you were going with this. Everyone, that is, but Steve.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it." Steve nodded along, glad the two of you were finally agreeing on something.

"The why'd you think it was sweet when Annie did it?" You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes even farther. "The whole musical Frank was too stubborn, his ego too big, to deal with the fact that Annie was better than him. 'You can't get a man with a gun'? Bullshit, you could always shoot him." You let out a dry laugh at your own joke, completely fed up with sexism in movies being written off as love.

Steve was taken aback at how everything had shifted. He thought he was finally in agreement with you on something, so he clung to it. "But she did it for love... her reputation, all the medals, they still showed how good she was." Halfway through speaking, he realized he was only making it worse, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"For fuck's sake, she shouldn't have to pretend to be any less of a badass sharpshooter than she is to find love." With another roll of your eyes, you went to leave, stopping again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Maybe she was just scared she wouldn't find anyone with that reputation." He nearly smacked himself for that one, why couldn't he just shut up? He just didn't want you to be mad at him.

With one hand on the doorway, you looked over your shoulder. "That reputation? I'd rather have that reputation than a relationship where I have to feed his ego." With that, you walked to the elevators, beyond ready to call it a night.

-

"I'm an idiot." Steve sighed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees while sitting on Bucky's bed.

"Yep. You just kept digging." Bucky agreed easily, not sure where to start with the advice.

Steve shot him a glare as he began pacing back and forth. "I mean, she clearly didn't like the movie. Why did I even start the conversation? I should have just let her walk away. She already barely tolerates my presence as it is. We disagree about everything, even if we rarely fight over it. I should've just cut my losses and enjoyed the time we spent together, even if it was with everyone."

"Punk, you need to relax. Just go apologize, then maybe you'll actually go to sleep at some point tonight." Bucky shoved Steve out the door, slamming it shut before he could object.

Mumbling about what a jerk Bucky is, Steve made his way to your door. He hesitated, turned around, walked a few steps, turned around again, and eventually knocked.

You opened the door with a yawn, having been close to sleep when the noise startled you. "What d'ya need, Cap?"

He couldn't help but smile at your sleepy state, never having seen you this unguarded before. "Uh, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. You're entitled to your opinion, and there was no reason for me to fight you on it."

A look of annoyance briefly flashed across your face at the mention of the movie, but you relaxed given his apology. "I'm glad we can agree then. It's a terrible movie."

"Oh, no, I still like the movie." He had never wanted the ground to swallow him whole more than he did in that moment. Floundering for a way to undo what he just said, he started rambling. "I mean, you're right. It is kind of sexist, but that was just the time period you know? Like in the 40s, dames had to constantly worry about how their actions would affect their reputations." Up to that point, he had been staring at the floor, rapidly spewing more words. "I mean, you wouldn't want a bad reputation, right?" He chose the wrong sentence to make eye contact.

The sleepy, slightly confused smile was gone, replaced by a look he had hoped to never have directed at him. You spoke with an eerie sort of calm when you replied. "I think you're a little stuck in the 40s, Cap. I shouldn't have to worry about my reputation anymore than any man does his. Goodnight."

For the second time that night, a door slammed in his face. Bucky was definitely wrong. He would not be getting any sleep after talking to you.

-

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's karaoke night. Yes, I've rented a bar. No, you may not stay home. We start at 8!" Tony walked in, made his announcement, and instantly walked right back out.

Everyone nodded, taking in the brief encounter with Tony. Well, everyone but you and Steve. The two of you were too stuck in your heads to listen to Tony's ramblings.

It had been three days since movie night, and Steve still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to you again.

What could he even say to explain why he was so flustered? "Sorry for the other night, I can't seem to form coherent thoughts when I'm around you, because even though we rarely talk outside of missions, I have a massive crush on you"? No, that was definitely coming on too strong.

He just needed to find the right words.

Meanwhile, you were confused. You never would have imagined Steve to be so stuck in the past. Of course, you understood things were different before he got stuck in the ice, but he's really made leaps and bounds in his understanding of feminism and equality since he first realized what year it was.

You wanted to ask him where the whole speech came from, but you were afraid of the answer.

"I guess that means it's time to get ready since it's already 6:30! I swear, he never gives us enough notice for these things." Wanda smiled at Vision, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, before grabbing you and Nat to go change.

"What are we getting ready for?" You asked when Wanda finally let go of your arm, having entered the elevator.

"Karaoke! Didn't you her Tony?" She eyed you suspiciously, clearly debating whether or not to look into your mind.

"She was too stuck in her head to notice me throwing popcorn at her, she definitely didn't listen to Tony." Nat smirked at your startled expression, laughing when you reached up to brush the kernels out of your hair.

You glared at both of them, "I was just thinking about some stuff. That's all."

"Yeah, some stuff named Steve." Wanda cackled, having decided to peak into your head. It was for your own good after all.

"Wanda! You said you wouldn't read my mind unprovoked." You wanted to be angry, but part of you was relieved you wouldn't have to keep this secret anymore.

"It was provoked! You wouldn't tell me what you were thinking about." Wanda smiled, also knowing that you were happy to have shared the secret, even if not by choice.

"And don't try to change the subject. Steve, huh? Somebody's got a crush." She was taunting you like a child would on a playground, shaking her head back and forth for emphasis.

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I why I was thinking about him." They each gave you a pointed look, obviously not believing you. "Seriously! I was thinking about movie night." You frowned, upset at the memory.

You quickly filled them in on what Steve said when he came to talk to you as you made your way to Nat's room to get ready. (She has the biggest vanity, so it makes the most sense to go to her room).

"I can't picture Steve trying to defend himself like that. Normally if he's fallen back into his old ways, someone points it out and he apologizes." Nat made a face, trying to put two and two together. "Unless..." She looked at Wanda, gesturing for her to read her mind.

"Oh my god!" Wanda squealed, nearly knocking you over with her excitement. "Steve's got a crush, toooooo." She happily dragged it out, much to Nat's amusement.

"Please, the man barely talks to me as it is. Our most substantial conversation revolved around my 'bad reputation' or lack thereof." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the memory. "I seriously doubt he's got a crush. I do want to fix this though. I don't like when people are avoiding me. I get all stressed about accidentally running into them."

"He totally has a crush." Wanda smiled again.

"It's the only reason he would turn into a rambling idiot in front of you." Nat added.

"What song should I sing tonight?" You desperately tried to change the subject.

Wanda smirked, already having a perfect song in mind. "I think I've got one that could solve both your problems..." She filled you and Nat in on her plan, and although you doubted the crush aspect of it all, it was a good way to break the ice in terms of Steve avoiding you.

Hopefully it would show him you were more confused than upset, and everything would work out.

You changed quickly, embracing 80s fashion to go with your song choice. You wore black leather pants and a matching jacket, slipping on a tight red shirt underneath. Although, you still did your hair like you normally would, not fully committing to the 80s vibes.

With the addition of some red lipstick, a rarity for you, you were ready. Wanda and Nat finished their looks as well, and the three of you left for the bar.

-

You were honestly a little surprised when Steve walked up to you immediately after you walked into the bar. He handed you your favorite drink, smiling as he took in your ensemble.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean all that stuff I said, just sometimes I forget how much things have changed and I-" You cut him off, not wanting him to suffer (or ramble) too much.

"Steve, it's fine. I was honestly more confused than anything else." He smiled, taking a sip from the drink he provided you.

"Really? You definitely looked angry when you slammed the door in my face." He outwardly cringed at bringing it up again.

"Okay, I was angry at first, but then I was mostly confused." You nodded, trying to convey that you weren't upset with him anymore.

"Good. I'm glad because avoiding you was getting pretty difficult." He wanted to smack himself again. Why does he always say the stupidest things around you?

To his relief, you laughed at his 'joke'. "Plus, this makes my song choice even more fun." You winked before walking back over to Wanda and Nat, leaving Steve to wonder about your performance.

-

"Y/N! You're up next." Tony called from his seat near the stage. He really liked to enforce his 'everyone must participate in team building, that's how it becomes team building' philosophy when it comes to karaoke night.

You couldn't help but smirk at Steve as he whipped his head around to witness you walking onto the stage. He's been eagerly awaiting your performance.

Everyone who knew the song started laughing at the first sounds of the guitar. The two super soldiers though? They were confused.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Once you started singing, you couldn't take your eyes off of Steve. He was blushing at being called out, Bucky's hysterical laughter next to him not really helping the situation.

"Living in the past, it's a new generation."

Bucky nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Even Steve had a smile on his face. You bobbed your head to the music, relying on your previous drinks to really get into the performance.

"A girl can do what she wants to do, and that's what I'm gonna do. And I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation. Oh no, not me."

You put air quotes around bad, really playing it up since everyone was having so much fun with it. Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam were jumping around, dancing as you sang. Bucky was still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Steve was full on grinning by the last chorus, slightly shaking his head at your antics.

"So, why should I care about a bad reputation, anyway?"

In typical Tony fashion, he saing along for the "oh no, not me" bit of the song, encouraging everyone to scream the words with him.

By the time the song was over, you were a little out of breath, sweating a bit from the lights.

"Now's your chance, punk. Go bring her another drink." Bucky shoved the glass in his hand and gave Steve a slight push in your direction as you walked off the small stage.

You hugged Nat and Wanda before making your way toward the bar. Steve intercepted you, handing you the freshly made drink.

You smiled, uttering a quick thanks before eagerly taking a sip. The cold liquid did wonders for your parched throat.

"That was quite the performance. Really called me out 'on my bullshit' as you would say." You couldn't help but laugh and tease him a bit more.

"Captain, language!" You placed your empty hand on his shoulder, sliding down to his chest with your next question. "Whatever will the world think of you?"

"Well, recently I've adopted a new motto." He whispered, leaning in closer so you could here. "I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation."

Caught off guard by his use of the lyric, you laughed, leaning into your hand on his chest for support.

"Something we agree on then." Your breath caught in your throat when you realized just how close he was.

"I think there's one more thing we agree on..." He trailed off, eyes quickly glancing down at your lips.

"What might that be, Cap?" Your eyes drifted down his face as well, giving him enough courage to lean in.

His lips caught yours in a passionate kiss. He pulled you closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you moved in sync, as if you were made for each other.

You were so lost in each other, you paid no attention to the cheers from your teammates. You didn't even register Nat and Wanda screaming "I told you so" as Steve pulled you in for a second kiss.

[emachinescat]

Amytal Sodium + Mac

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 8 - “hey, hey, this is no time to sleep”

Summary: An increasingly desperate Jack struggles to transport a drugged and barely coherent MacGyver to exfil before it’s too late.

Characters: Mac, Jack

Words: 1,898

TW: drugs

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

Even though the exfil point was less than a mile from where Jack Dalton stood, it had never been farther.  This day was rapidly reaching Cairo levels of suck.  

Jack had arrived to rescue his missing partner after an op gone to hell to find the two, now very dead, domestic terrorists who’d taken Mac injecting some foreign substance into his bloodstream.  Jack would later find out that it wasn’t the first dose they’d given him - that’s why Mac hadn’t had the opportunity to escape on his own.

Because whatever this stuff was, it messed him up.

The bodies of the terrorists had barely hit the floor when Jack was racing across the room to his friend.  Mac had been tied to a sturdy, high-backed dining chair, slumped in his bonds.  It took Jack two seconds to cut the duct tape on his partner's wrists and ankles, but Mac hadn’t even seemed to notice he was free.  He was awake, but he was not there.  His blue eyes had glazed over with a detached vagueness that sent fear sparking down Jack’s spine.

With great effort, Jack had managed to hoist a limp MacGyver to a facsimile of a standing position, and that movement had elicited some response, much to Jack’s enormous relief. 

“J-Jack?”  Jack fought the urge to cry at the sound of Mac’s voice, weak and lost and scared - it didn’t sound like his partner at all.  

“I’m here, pal,” Jack said simply.  “Let’s get you home.”

It was easier said than done.  

Even with Jack supporting him, Mac couldn’t keep his feet under him for very long.  He attacked his newest mission - getting to exfil without Jack having to carry him - with a determination that was one hundred percent on brand for Angus MacGyver, but determination could only get a person so far, especially when they had been drugged with what was most likely some dangerous cocktail of mind-altering drugs.  Jack just hoped that whatever had been given to him, it wasn’t deadly.

“So, any idea what they pumped you full of in there, hoss?” Jack asked as he grabbed the back of Mac's belt to steady him for the umpteenth time.  It didn’t help that the ground was steep and uneven with roots and rocks - these terrorists had set up shop in an retired, abandoned safe house used by the FBI in the mid-80s, which just so happened to be halfway up a mountain.  

Mac’s answer, when it finally came, was not encouraging.  It took him at least a full minute to understand and process Jack’s question, and then another full minute to formulate his response.  Jack had already given up on the question, thinking that Mac either hadn’t heard him or hadn’t understood, but then Mac slurred, “Truth ssserum.”

Jack stopped moving for a second, pulling Mac to a halt next to him.  It was mid-afternoon, yet already it seemed to be growing dark underneath the thick canopy high overhead.  He studied his friend closely, taking in even in the dimness the flushed cheeks, sweat-beaded brow, and hazy eyes with anxiety pooling in his gut.  “They wanted information?”

Mac nodded, a jerky, uncoordinated motion, and then he muttered, “Pr’bly something like Thiopental Sodium or Amytal Sodium …”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re just really salty right now, huh, kid?” Jack joked weakly, not knowing for sure what either of the drugs mentioned were, but knowing they couldn’t be good.  He gripped Mac’s waist tighter as he lost his footing again, this time while standing still, and took on more of his partner's weight.  It was a credit to how bad Mac felt that he didn’t protest being supported.  He reached out his other hand and felt Mac’s head.  It wasn’t hot, but it was reaching a level of warmth that didn’t set well with his overwatch.

“I think you’re getting a fever,” Jack remarked, trying to keep the worry out of his tone.

“Side effect of l’rge doses of Am’tal Sodium,” Mac explained.  

Fear clawed at Jack’s chest.  “Just how much of this stuff did they give you?” he demanded, even as he started moving again, now half-carrying, half-dragging a mostly limp Mac by his side.  The blonde’s feet were barely moving anymore, his toes more often than not scraping uselessly against the loose dirt.

“Too much,” Mac supplied, very unhelpfully.

“Okay…” Jack breathed out slowly in an attempt to calm himself.  “Well, what other side effects should we be looking out for?  If they used it as truth serum, are you gonna be revealing all your deepest darkest secrets to me?  If so, I’m game for a good round of truth or dare.”

“D’sn’t work like that,” Mac informed him, and Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile at the piece of Old Mac trying to shine through.  “Truth serums are act--”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there, Einstein,” Jack interrupted.  “I don’t think you’re up for a science lesson right now.  Can you tell me what other symptoms I need to keep an eye out for?”  By his best estimate, based on the map he’d checked right before he’d set out with a drugged Mac in tow, exfil was still quite a ways away.  If they kept moving at this pace, they should definitely make it in time, but if Mac kept deteriorating, things would get much more complicated.

“Uh… fever,” said Mac, and Jack just grunted, not reminding him that that was the one they’d just talked about.  “...confusion… I think?  Headache…. Hallucinations, sometimes… anxiety… spasms ‘n diz-zy-ness--” he overpronounced the word like he was having to try extra hard to say it correctly, “--sleepiness, insomnia, vomiting, diarrhea, constipation--” 

“Okay, okay, I think I get the picture,” Jack interrupted Mac’s breathless spurting of grim side effect after another.  “Geez, you’re starting to sound like a commercial for Prozac or somethin’.  How can it give you sleepiness and insomnia?  That’s about as opposite as you can get.”

“Mmmm... depends on the person,” Mac said several long seconds later, his words sounding as if they were being pulled with great difficulty from deep within.  Still moving, but slower now, Jack glanced over and saw that Mac’s eyelids were beginning to flutter, and suddenly all of Mac’s weight was on Jack.  He stumbled, barely keeping them from taking a roll down a steep incline.

“Hey, hey,” Jack gently shook his friend, who stirred with a groan, “this is no time to sleep.”

“Tired,” said Mac simply.

“I know, bud, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get your scrawny ass out of these woods before we miss exfil, and I don’t know if I can carry you down this mountain.  I need you to help me, even if it’s just a little, okay?”  He paused, then added, “And anyway, you probably shouldn’t sleep until medical’s got a chance to look at you.  It’s safer that way.”

Mac didn’t say anything, but he did make a valiant attempt to straighten up and bear some of his own weight, so Jack pressed on.

Five minutes later, the nervousness set in.  Despite being exhausted and barely coherent, Mac gazed around furtively, whipped his head around at every snap of a twig, mumbled something about his skin crawling and chest hurting and he thought they were being followed.  At one point, Mac tried to break away from Jack as if he were the enemy, and would have rolled down the rest of the mountain if Jack’s reflexes hadn’t been so finely tuned.  

A short pause and a panic attack later, they were back on their way, Mac still shifty and scared but thankfully more docile.  He nodded off again.

“Hey,” Jack reminded him with another jostle, “no sleeping, remember?  Let’s get down this mountain first.”

Ten minutes after that, they had to stop for Mac to empty his stomach of everything he’d eaten in the past five years.  Jack rubbed his back and offered soothing words as his partner hacked and gasped and sobbed breathlessly against the strain to his body, but there was no time for coddling after the fact.  They were running out of time.

Mac really wanted to sleep after the toll that had taken on his system, but Jack prodded him awake, trying to distract him with mindless babble.  The ground was slowly beginning to level out, and he could hear the chop of the helicopter blades several hundred yards away in a clearing at the base of the mountain - they were going to make it in time, if only just!  

At this point, Mac had become so uncoordinated and woozy that he might as well have been asleep, as Jack was supporting him entirely.  But still, every time his head dropped onto Jack’s shoulder or fell forward, Jack prodded him back to consciousness, desperate to keep his boy genius awake and semi-coherent, because what if he fell asleep and didn’t wake up again?

And then they were in the clearing, and Mac was trying to sleep again, and Jack shook him as the exfil team surged forward to put the fading kid on a stretcher.  Mac blearily opened his eyes at the movement.

“Hey, Mac,’ Jack said softly as he kept pace with the stretcher with long strides.  “Stay awake for a little longer for me, will ya?  Just until we get in the air and the medics can take a good look at you.”

Mac studied his face with a serious, but baffled expression.  Finally, he gave a tiny, clumsy nod right before he was lifted into the chopper.

“‘Kay, Dad,” he murmured, and Jack froze where he stood, heart pounding wildly in his chest.  Mac had said that hallucinations were one of the side effects of whatever drug he thought he’d been given.  Was Mac hallucinating now?  Was he seeing his dad instead of Jack?

Or - and this idea was one that Jack found himself approaching shyly, as if afraid to acknowledge it in case it turned out not to be true - could it be that Mac’s defenses were down?  Could it be that he saw Jack as a father figure, that maybe Jack had been able to fill in, in some small way, the void that James MacGyver had left when he’d abandoned his son?

“Dalton!  We need to move!”

Jack shook himself out of his thoughts, swiped the back of his arm across his eyes, and followed Mac into the chopper.  Medics were already examining him, and even though Jack was informed that they wouldn’t be able to know for sure what they were dealing with until they were back at Phoenix and could run more extensive tests, he was reassured that sleep was probably the best thing for Mac, now that his vitals were being closely monitored.

Jack sat down next to the stretcher, and grabbed one of the kid’s hands.  To his surprise, Mac was still awake, barely clinging on to consciousness.  

“Hey, man.  You’re gonna get help real soon, okay?”

“Is it… ‘kay to sleep now?” Mac asked, his words falling over one another like someone tumbling in slow motion down the stairs.

Jack smiled warmly and brushed a strand of sweaty hair off of his kid’s forehead.  “Yeah, son,” he said, not even realizing what he’d called Mac in this quiet moment - it just felt right.  “Now, it’s time to sleep.”

[the-sunshine-dims]

amnesia rewrite! (chapter 6)

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 7 | ch 8 |

original fic

words: 1692

ao3

contents and warnings: amnesia, deaged Janus, food, fluff, weeping angel mention, pranks, 

____

Patton knew individually both Virgil and Janus were very strong spirits, and he had learned over the past couple weeks that together they were.. well, chaotic, but surely

surely.

It wouldn’t be normal for them to do- well whatever they did, Patton could only guess as roman chased them, covered in a sparkly goop, and yelling a couple of nonsense phrases as well as what Patton could only make out as “undo it!” 

He really hoped it wouldn’t be normal.

Patton pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing to himself, before taking pity on both poor Roman and the flooring which was ever so slowly being fully covered with the goop as well, he loudly coughed to get their attention, having the intended effect of having them all halt in there running, “did you two do this?” He asked in his practiced and patented dad voice, already pretty certain he knew the answer but still asking anyway.

Janus immediately piped up, taking the attention from Virgil who had actually not fully stopped and had kept slowly side-stepping away from roman “No!” He told him insistently, not wanting him or Virgil to get in trouble and have the invite of movie night be rescinded, it was the first time it was calm enough and no one was too busy for one, which meant it was his first movie night, he didn’t want to miss it! still despite his very best attempt it was very very, abundently clear to Patton that he was lying, which wasn’t as big a surprise as Janus wished it would be, after all, he was a very shifty character.

the effort made Patton make sure to be soft with his tone however before he was just about to reply Virgil spoke up to talk to Janus, “dee patt’s smart enough to know we did it- and even if he didn’t would you really wanna not take credit for the awesome prank?” He asked vaguely motioning to Roman who was halfway across the room from him now.

Janus pouted- actually pouted and Patton couldn’t help but silently chuckle to himself, thankfully unnoticed by all other parties, and once he had stopped pouting he just turned around to face patton and immediately looked down to fiddle with his sleeves as he quietly went “okay.. we did, ‘m sorry” he said, focusing his attention on Patton.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Roman’s the one who’s affected and deserves an apology.” he told him, and speaking of Roman, “Roman when you’re ready the bathroom should be free why don’t you take a shower, it doesn’t appear that the goo was made with just a snap,” Roman sighed loudly before nodding and Patton smiled at him before turning his attention once again to the two chaos bringers “now, you two clean the mess from when he was chasing after you and later you’ll have to help me with movie night preparation, sound relatively Fair?” 

Virgil, Janus, and Roman mumbled a chorus of yes’s, Romans more prominent as he was happy to get some retribution for their crimes. Patton nodded- mostly to himself, “good.” 

It would be days before he ended up admitting to the two that he actually found the prank kind of funny, because by then Roman, while still acting offended by the pure mention of it, everyone could tell that it was purely lighthearted and he was in no way mad.

It would be only hours though until he admitted it was adorable and so very sweet how much Janus had latched and pretty much imprinted onto Virgil, following him around like a little duckling, (and when Virgil was truly busy Roman was a close second, however, it didn’t seem to save him.)

_______

“..Roman why are you sparkly?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” roman grumbled back.

Patton chuckled as he listened to the short-lived conversation of the two from the kitchen, Virgil and Janus had been helping him with prepping everything for the movie night but as making popcorn was the last thing they needed to do (and they and Roman had gotten banned from the kitchen because while one of them had tried to make pasta while waiting for the plain water to heat up it somehow caught on fire) so he let them go, to do what they wanted to do until everyone gathered for the movie.

After a bit he was finally done popping it so he then sifted popcorn into the two bowls, one for just melted butter and salt for Logan and Virgil and one bowl with sugar and melted butter for Roman and himself and maybe Remus if he joined them, and Janus was welcome to both as Patton hadn’t really been able to memorize his favorite yet.

He smiled as walked out, quickly setting the popcorn bowls down onto the coffee table, before happily sitting and leaning into Roman’s side, he hummed quietly to himself as he waited for Virgil to come back down before he noticed that Janus was just standing there, near the tv not really doing something, barely even moving.

He took worry-filled moment to take a breath before just going “hey dee? You wanna sit down kiddo?” And Patting the spot next to him, he didn’t want him to feel like the odd one out and feel too awkward to sit down, so he wanted to offer a clear invitation just incase, logan had said he occasionally needed that.

Janus glanced at Patton momentarily, before shaking his head insistently “no, waiting,” He explained, well it might’ve been explaining to him but it gave much more questions than answers, and honestly it was kind of scaring Patton especially as he immediately went back to staring at a specific spot, and a long while back Virgil had introduced him to what weeping angels were, so now he was scared to look away when his kiddos stared at either him or a very specific spot that didn’t ever vary for a prolonged time.

After a bit Virgil came down and sat right next to Logan, who had been silently reading a book against the armrest,

Then the moment Virgil sat down and everybody got situated- not even a second later, Janus ran full force at the couch and threw himself onto them, eliciting a variety of startled yelps and shrieks from them, and after a moment of him just happily using all of theirs legs as pillows as they remained completely stunned, Roman, Logan, and Paton just started to make noises of both bewilderment and dramatic alarm, however, the former was more of Romans doing, despite the only Part of Janus that was even touching him was his arms, extended like a stretching cat, though honestly despite the earlier prank Patton felt like if it had been anyone else and not Janus who had done that Roman would make much more fanfare about the throwing themself at them at all, Patton smiled to himself at the notion before grabbing the remote and stretching to hand it to Logan, absentmindedly starting to card his fingers through Janus’s hair.

Janus smiled contently as he got comfortable, happy with just being so close to his family. 

_______

It had been maybe two and a half movies before Patton looked around, about to tell them another movie-based pun before he realized that They all had fallen fast asleep, Roman’s head lulled to the side and leaning on him much more than patton realized, Virgil cuddling Logan closely, and Janus holding patton’s arm captive, close to his chest, Patton barely suppressed an adoring coo with just how adorable the scene was before he realized that one of them wasn’t asleep, though he wasn’t that far away from it.

He looked over to focus more on Logan, who was trying so hard to watch the movie, blinking his eyes open after they started drooping more than three times in a single minute. 

Patton smiled fondly before quietly going “lo, dear, you should go to sleep,”

Logan paused as he processed his words before he gave Patton a sheepish- and very groggy- smile, then he looked down to his lap, doing his best to avoid eye contact, and Patton realized a very important thing as Logan mumbled “‘mm don’ wanna move,” because while Virgil was very cuddly currently, Logan was equally cuddly, and he appeared very content to be so.

Patton chuckled softly as he understood, before going to shake his head lovingly, “lo-lo you don’t have to go upstairs to go to bed, you can just go to sleep in the cuddle pile with us, I was just saying if you're sleepy it’d be good to go to sleep.”

Logan made a small little “oh” sound, making it abundantly obvious even if it wasnt already that he was too tired to of even considered that, before grinning so brightly and so groggily and happily collapsing into Virgil’s chest.

And Patton couldn’t see exactly but he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan instantly fell asleep, he gave a small chuckle before doing his best to cover everybody with the blankets they had gradually grabbed and brought over to the couch to make sure no one got cold in the middle of the night.

After he was done he grabbed the remote from where Logan had put it and turned the tv off, soon continuing to card his fingers through Janus’s hair with his non-stolen hand.

And as Janus just melted even more at the contact Patton’s heart just melted once. 

It didnt take long for patton to start getting drowsy now that he didnt have something to pay attention to and soon Janus and Patton started to Have incoherent conversations, Patton didn't even know if he had partially awoken or if it was just mid-sleep mumbles, but it didn't matter because he wasn’t even forming real or coherent words either, suddenly too tired to even realize it.

And not long after he could only yawn as he tried to keep his eyes open, before just collapsing against Roman’s shoulder and being the final one to quickly doze off.

[taexual]

HOLIC - 44 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: it’s just raw angst

words: 7.2k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

           prev / next

It only took you a few days to finish editing all of the pictures you’d taken of Jaebum that night. You ran them by him first – and smacked him when he tried to make you swear he’d always be your only model – and then emailed them to his agency. You still needed their approval so, even though Jaebum had insisted you take these pictures, it was possible that his employers were going to end up hiring someone else, after all.

Except, as you learned on your way to work that Friday, they didn’t. As it turned out, the only problem Jaebum’s producer had with the pictures you’ve taken was that he couldn’t choose one. It felt like the biggest compliment you’ve ever been told.

The entire day would have been wonderful – Fridays already carried a certain aura of just being plain great – had it not been for a text Jiho sent you right when you were wrapping up, ready to head home. Apparently, his old friend was holding an exhibition at one of the out-of-town galleries he’d worked with before so you needed to keep your Saturday free.

Grateful that he’d warned you—sort of—in advance this time, you texted back in confirmation and were surprised to learn that Jiho actually expected you to bring your camera to the exhibition. For a moment, you thought he’d found out you’d taken Jaebum up to the balcony and had completely stolen Jiho’s photoshoot spot, so he was now going to get back at you by taking your camera and locking it away or something equally as unrealistic. But then you realized that made no sense – even if he had learned about your impromptu photoshoot, why would he try to get back at you? You’d done nothing wrong. Quite the opposite, actually.

Getting the approval of Jaebum’s agency provided you with a huge boost of confidence that you obviously needed. They liked your pictures so much, they didn’t know which ones to use – that had to mean you were, at least, somewhat better than average at what you did. What was more, that had to mean that, perhaps, you’d been too pessimistic about the number of opportunities you would get to make yourself known. Maybe you wouldn’t have to completely rely on Jiho to get your name out there, after all.

In the time leading up to the exhibition you had to attend with Jiho that Saturday night, you couldn’t get the memory of the photoshoot with Jaebum out of your head. Taking pictures of him had been nothing short of wonderful. You both had fun – although you did nearly freeze your hands off – and just seeing him through the lens of your camera inspired you so much, you had come up with three new ideas for a photoshoot if this one didn’t work out. But it did work out. Not only did you thoroughly enjoy the photoshoot itself, but the end result was also splendid. You couldn’t have been happier.

However, ruining the utter bliss of your routine with Jaebum as the two of you munched on pizza in his bed that Friday night, you got a call from Hyojin who was demanding to see you immediately. Normally, you’d have turned any offer to go out down – there was simply nothing you’d have rather done that what you’d already been doing – but because she was one of your best friends and, frankly, she sounded absolutely terrifying on the phone, you forced yourself out of bed.

“Are you seriously leaving right when Johnny Depp discovers the—”

“Oh, no,” you stopped Jaebum by extending your hand in front of his face. “Just because you’ve seen Sleepy Hollow before doesn’t mean you get to spoil the ending for me. Or watch it without me. Pause it, I won’t be long.”

“That’s not the ending, it’s barely even the middle,” he mumbled, pausing the movie nevertheless. “And are you saying I’m going to have to stare at the ceiling while I wait for you?”

“It’s just fifteen minutes,” you said. “Jacob’s dropping her off in front of our building. There’s no way Hyojin will make him wait for very long.”

“Why is she coming all this way over here, anyway?” he asked, already knowing all about your friends and their boyfriends. “And, at this hour, nonetheless?”

“It’s nine on a Friday night,” you said matter-of-factly. “She was probably out drinking like normal people do. It’s just you and I who get drunk on a Monday night instead.”

Jaebum grinned at the jab. “Fair point. I’ve paused the movie for you – consider that when you’re out and don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

“I will keep your sacrifices in mind,” you leaned over to kiss him and then stumbled out of his bedroom, your jeans still only halfway on.

Hyojin hadn’t been to your neighborhood before and it showed – she had her boyfriend drive around the block three times before she called and got you to come to the building they’d eventually parked outside of. But even despite getting lost, she looked like she thought that coming all the way over here was worth it.

“It’s great to see you,” you told her after the two of you hugged hello. “But, seriously, what’s up? You’ve never driven this far for me before, usually we just—”

“No, I know,” she cut you off, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “But you need to see this. I couldn’t text you the link because, well, yelling at you over text is not the same as yelling at you in real life. So, here. Look.”

She pressed something on her phone and then passed it on to you.

From the looks of it, Hyojin had opened up a tabloid site – with some very bad formatting that warped the text in every second paragraph – but you didn’t get to check what kind of site because your eyes immediately caught Jiho’s name in the headline. And then your name following right after.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered under your breath, reading on.

The article seemed to be a quick recap of the dinner you’d attended with Jiho earlier this week. It was accompanied by some high-quality pictures of the people who were there – and thus, you realized that this wasn’t actually a tabloid site at all, this must have been a blog-like website by one of the dinner guests – but its’ main focus, without a doubt, was the “budding relationship between the most promising young photographer” – Jiho – “and his muse” – you.

“I’m not—this wasn’t supposed to—oh, fuck,” you tossed around helplessly, handing Hyojin her phone back. “How did you even find this?”

“I didn’t. Jacob showed it to me,” she replied, her face executing every sign that she was about to scold you good. “One of his friends from publishing was at that dinner, so he was showing Jacob the pictures and Jake thought he’d recognized you. Turns out, his friend was actually looking forward to meeting you. He’d referred to you as “Jiho’s girlfriend.”

“God, no, it’s not—”

“Yeah, I sure hope it’s not,” Hyojin continued, too fired up to let you finish, “because this implies that you’re still in touch with that asshat and, not just that, but you’re also dating him.”

You momentarily recalled your last conversation with May at Mark’s bar. Evidently, she’d kept quiet about the revelation that your entire future depended on Jiho, so Hyojin was completely in the dark about it all.

“I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I would never! Jaebum—he’s right upstairs, waiting—God, this is messed up,” you brought your hands over your face in an attempt to collect your thoughts so you’d finally form a coherent sentence. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone because I’m not sure if I’m allowed to speak about this – at least not to the press – but—”

“Well, go right ahead,” she urged, “I’m not the press.”

“Yeah, but Jacob is,” you nodded your head towards the car Hyojin had just stepped out of – or, perhaps, sprinted out of would have put it more accurately since she hopped right out, slamming the door shut before you even got a glimpse of her boyfriend.

“He’s not that kind of press,” Hyojin rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t care about some photographer that’s fresh out of the womb. No one does. No offense.”

You didn’t take offense – she was right. As Mark had pointed out in his bar the other day, the only people who cared about photographers were other photographers.

“Right,” you swallowed. “Well, this was Jiho’s idea. He thought I should get some exposure before my exhibition.”

Hyojin frowned. “Why does he get to decide that?”

God, you thought you appreciated May for not telling the rest of your friends about this – she must have thought you should have been the one to do that – but now you wished she had, just like she revealed the truth about who your roommate was. You’d planned to keep Jaebum’s identity a secret but ended up spilling it all to her while wine-drunk and, in turn, May had told the rest of your friends. If she’d done the same thing now, perhaps you wouldn’t have had to face Hyojin’s judgemental eyes.

“Because,” you closed your eyes, “it’s his gallery.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” you groaned, your fingers suddenly very drawn to your scalp and, particularly, ripping your hair out of it. “God, it’s a long story.”

“Honey,” your friend put her hand on your shoulders, a very determined expression on her face, “I’ve got all night.”

Jacob pulled his window down, having overheard her say this. “You really don’t, love. We have a movie to catch in half an hour. Hello, by the way.”

“Hey, Jake,” you gave him an awkward wave which he acknowledged with a nod and then slid his window back up, giving you and Hyojin some privacy – even though he could, clearly, hear everything from inside of the car anyway. “You should go, Jin. I swear nothing’s happening. His gallery reached out to me and offered me… something. It’s not just an exhibition, it’s a whole ton of other stuff, too. It’s a great contract, really. But before I get to lay claim to any of those perks, I have to become more well-known so that my first exhibition isn’t a complete bust. That dinner is a part of a-a PR stunt, you know? Like, we were supposed to appear together as two photographers, having dinner—”

“Is that not what you did?” she asked, interrupting you.

“It is, but—well, they’re calling me his muse,” you replied. “Not his colleague. So, that’s not exactly what was supposed to happen but, I guess, it’s still exposure.”

“Are you going to do something about this, then?” she continued.

“I don’t know what I can—”

“And what does Jaebum think about this wonderful stunt?”

Her questions already made it difficult to catch your breath but this last one seemed to punch you right in the lungs.

“He doesn’t know,” you wheezed out, not raising your eyes from the pavement.

For the second time that night, Hyojin’s jaw opened and froze in that position. “What?”

“N-no, I mean, he knows I’m doing these events for publicity,” you tried to explain, guilt flashing all over your face. “He just doesn’t know—”

“That they’re with Jiho?” she raised her eyebrows in an oddly accusing manner. “Babe, what are you doing?”

“I’m—”

She shook her head, choosing not to listen to another excuse. “You have to tell him.”

“I will!” you said, sounding far too exasperated. You’d already told everyone but Jaebum and the constant promises you made about telling him were starting to weigh down on your consciousness. “He’s just been so happy, getting that contract with an agency, and all. Everything’s going so well, it just doesn’t feel right to piss on his parade. He wanted this for so long.”

That sounded like an excuse and both of you knew it.

“Don’t think you’re doing him a favor by not telling him,” Hyojin reprimanded immediately.

“I know I’m not,” you said. “And I will tell him. Just not right this moment.”

“Well, if he sees the article, it will be too late, won’t it?”

“He won’t see it,” you said and then, after a moment of panic, added a fearful, “will he?”

Hyojin sighed. “Honestly, no, he probably won’t. The only reason Jake even saw that was because of that co-worker who showed it to him. There are probably, like, six people who read that website and I don’t think Jaebum is one of them. I hope that isn’t the kind of publicity Jiho meant.”

“I hope not,” you echoed. “Although it makes sense that no one cares about this. We’re irrelevant.”

“No, he had one thing right – people don’t care about these dinners but they do care about who’s dating whom, even if the people in question aren’t too famous,” she said. “Sex sells—”

Your eyes widened. “Sex?”

“You know what I mean,” she waved your surprise off. “People care about that shit. They want to know who’s sleeping with—”

“It’s just—just a few events,” you cut her off, just the mere mention of anyone assuming you and Jiho were having sex enough to send your stomach into a panicked frenzy. “Any publicity is good publicity, right?”

“Well, Jake would disagree but he’s not trying to become a celebrity. He just writes about them.”

“Right,” you nodded, allowing the looming awkward silence to finally engulf you both.

“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” Hyojin asked another uncomfortably long moment later.

“No. I’m not sure about anything,” you replied honestly. “But I want that exhibition and if that’s the only way—”

“You know it’s not,” she disagreed right away. “And, frankly, faking a relationship with someone doesn’t seem worth it.”

You continued to count the tiles on the pavement, feeling – and looking – like a scolded kindergartner. Any other time, you’d have felt like she just didn’t understand your situation. Merely a few days ago, you were convinced you weren’t good enough to find a place to host your exhibition some other way, but now you’d achieved a huge breakthrough with the pictures you’d taken for Jaebum. Now you believed in yourself a little – oh, alright, a lot – more.

“This isn’t long-term,” you decided to say. “It’s just a few weeks tops. That’s two or three more events and I’ve got another one tomorrow night. It’ll all be over before long: I’ll have my exhibition and then I can forget all about Jiho.”

“Hmm,” Hyojin had crossed her arms and was now looking decidedly skeptical. “And, I suppose, you’ll tell Jaebum about this another decade later, yeah? I don’t really understand why you—”

“I’m afraid,” you cut her off. She didn’t seem to understand why you sounded so agitated so, after sighing so deep, your whole chest began to ache, you explained, “I don’t want to lose him. I’ve already fucked up before and it lead to some hefty arguments. But that was before we were together, so they weren’t as significant.”

“When are arguments ever not significant?”

“Fine, they were significant,” you said. “But they never posed a threat to our relationship because there wasn’t one. And now that there is, I’m afraid that if we fight, it will break us up.”

“So, what, you’ll spend the rest of your life walking on your tip-toes, avoiding arguments with him because you’re afraid?” Hyojin asked. The more she talked, the less your words made sense to you. Suddenly, you couldn’t understand why you kept talking at all.

“No,” you said awkwardly. “No, that’s just stupid, I can’t avoid arguments with him for the rest of my life, but it’s so soon. We’ve only been together for, what, a few weeks, a month—”

“When did you move in with him?”

“I-I don’t know, a few months ago,” you blinked, not sure how this question was relevant. “Maybe three, three and a half—”

“Alright, so you’ve been with him for three and a half months, then,” Hyojin concluded.

“No, but we weren’t together before—”

“No,” she declared louder so she could talk over you – just like she seemed to do the whole night tonight. “No, babe. Every argument you’ve had with him since the day you moved in was equally as significant, and yet, not a single one posed any threats to your relationship. Not-a-single-one, you hear me? Because, from what you’ve told me, you and him have gotten pretty intense with each other before and yet, neither of you moved out. Not even when you didn’t think you were going to end up together. You have some real stuff between you, you know what I mean? The kind of stuff that can’t be broken by arguments… but might get irrevocably stained by secrets.”

You didn’t have a response to give her and sighed instead but Hyojin understood everything you couldn’t say just from your breath.

“You don’t want to do this with Jiho, either,” she said gently. “So, don’t put yourself through something you don’t want to do. Do it your way. So what if it takes longer?”

It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to you and it certainly wasn’t the first time that you considered the weight of these words. They were heavy but that was the case with the truth – it weighed you down until you could barely move.

“We said we were going to do this together,” you whispered under your breath, the engine of Jacob’s car nearly drowning your words out. “So, if I don’t do this, I’ll just have to watch him walk away from me.”

“Walk away from—honey, no,” Hyojin sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her sweet perfume so familiar, you almost started to cry. “He wouldn’t.”

“He wouldn’t have a choice,” you insisted. “That’s how life works sometimes. I don’t want it to. I don’t want him to—I just want us to do this together.”

“And you will,” she promised, pulling away slightly so she could look at you. “But maybe at different speeds. But who the hell cares? You were together before fame and you’ll be together after. You’ll wipe your stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame together and then walk into the sunshine, hand-in-hand. Who cares if you’ll host your exhibition a month, or a year after he releases his album?”

You cared, sniffling as you refused to meet her eyes. “A lot can happen in a year.”

“And a lot will,” she nodded. “But you two had already gone through so much, you might as well go through a little bit more.”

“What if that’s where the breaking point is? What if we don’t have a year—”

“Sweetheart,” she stopped you, suddenly grave serious. “What if I reach down inside of you, grab that paranoia of yours, and strangle it so it no longer bothers you, hmm? That would save us all a lot of time.”

You couldn’t control the snicker that passed your lips and got Hyojin to smile as well.

“Go back,” she told you then. “And don’t forget where you’re going, okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? Where am I going?”

Hyojin smile meaningfully. “You’re going home.”

Hyojin’s last words helped you more than you’d realized at first, and you woke up the next morning with a decision – tonight was going to be the last event you’d attend with Jiho. Once it was over, you would sit him down and tell him that you had to find another way because you simply couldn’t approve of this one. He’d have to agree to let you host your exhibition right now and not “when you were more popular.” You’d tell him about the pictures you’d taken of Jaebum and how much his agency liked them if he refused to listen to you.

And then, if he’d agree, you’d go home, talk to Jaebum, host your exhibition, and live happily ever after. And if he wouldn’t, you’d still go home, talk to Jaebum, and find a way to live out your happily ever after without getting your exhibition.

You hoped for the former but, as you applied your make-up for the night, you braced yourself for the latter. You knew that the chances of Jiho agreeing to just cut straight to your exhibition were slim – you and him were only seen together twice; surely, that wasn’t going to be enough in his eyes – but you trusted your ability to sound convincing. He’d insisted the gallery wanted you for your potential, so, maybe he’d fight harder to hold on to you and agree to your terms, after all.

In the end, whatever happened tonight, this was going to be the last time you were out with Jiho for publicity.

You nearly blacked out when, after leaving a note to let Jaebum know you were off to a photography event, you walked out of your building and saw Jiho step out of a limousine. A sleek black limousine – as if you two were headed to your wedding or something.

“W-what is—” you began but didn’t get to finish before Jiho’s bright laughter cut you off.

“I thought we’d arrive in style! What do you think?” he asked. You thought he was a lunatic. “Attract some more attention, hmm? Come on, get inside – got your camera? Good! – there’s champagne.”

You felt like you’d just skipped through, at least, three chapters of your life when you climbed into his limousine. Who were you, exactly, to have this expensive ride with undoubtedly equally as expensive glass of champagne thrust into your hand as soon as you sat down?

It was impossible to understand what was happening – although, from the laid-back way Jiho was acting, you’d have thought he took the limo to go to work and do his grocery shopping, so this wasn’t weird to him in the slightest – and, what’s more, it was impossible to figure out what would happen next.

As it turned out, what happened next was silence. Jiho was texting someone on his phone, so the only sound in the car was the rapid click-clacking of his fingers against his screen and the ever-so-often sip of champagne. You, on the other hand, refused to drink and remained completely quiet and overly alert the entire ride. When thrust into a situation you’ve never experienced before, it was probably best to stay sober and aware of your surroundings.

Once the limousine stopped – tossing your heart from your chest to your heels – about fifty minutes later, Jiho finally put his phone away and turned to look at you.

“Here’s the plan,” he declared in a way that made it seem as though you two were about to rob a bank Bonnie-and-Clyde style. “I didn’t tell you to bring your camera just so people would know you’re a photographer. That will come up anyway. I asked—”

“Will it?” you cut him off reflexively.

“What?”

“Will it come up?” you repeated, deliberately this time. You had decided to tell him you didn’t want to do this – even though he had to know that himself already – and you were going to stick with that decision. “Because, judging from the article written about us after the dinner, I’m not actually a photographer at all. I’m just a girl on your arm.”

Jiho, for some reason, hadn’t expected you to have read the article. Once the initial surprise wore off, however, he looked pleased that you’ve seen it and was almost inclined to ask who’d shown it to you. Clearly, you had your own sources and he was all the more curious to know who they were.

“Right, but that’s where it starts,” he insisted. “Slowly, more and more people will stop focusing on the fact that we’re together and, instead, will start to focus on us as individuals. I mean, come on, there are only so many speculations that can be made about the relationship of two people. Sooner or later, people are bound to get bored.”

“If they’re bored, they’ll ignore me and focus on you,” you said, “and I will still be the girl—”

“Quit thinking I’ll be quiet through it all,” he cut you off, showing you, for the first time since you’ve met him, that he also had the ability to get annoyed. “I’m doing this for you—for the gallery. Obviously, I will do everything in my power to make it clear that we are both photographers. Hence your camera here, tonight. I want you to capture this event from your own point of view. I will use one of your pictures in my review of tonight’s exhibition – with proper credit, of course – and that’s how everything will kick off.”

You bit your lip, looking down. If he’d told you of this plan earlier, perhaps you’d have felt less revolted riding this limousine with him. Still, though – was the expensive car so necessary?

“Fine,” you said, choosing to leave the conversation about how you wanted to finish doing these events until after the night was over. You were sort of an expert at postponing potentially complicated conversations. “Let’s just get this over and done with.”

Jiho smiled in response – the smile, that was most likely fake, looked so real that you started to wonder if he’d been faking this nice exterior the whole night tonight – and, opening the door of the limo with one hand, extended his other one to you.

“What do you want me to—”

Not waiting for you to start questioning his motives again, he took your hand against your wishes, and helped you get out of the car. There were three people taking pictures of the guests arriving at the exhibition and all three of them suddenly had their cameras on you and Jiho, eager to capture you two stepping out of the car, hand-in-hand. It was almost blinding and most surreal.

“Good to see you, Jiho!” one of the photographers hollered, his flash going off every two seconds. You were sure you had your eyes closed in every single picture he took. “Is that the missus?”

You cringed – but hoped it wasn’t too noticeable – and tried to pull your hand out of Jiho’s grip now that you were out of the car, but he didn’t let you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jiho replied sneakily, shooting a wink in the direction of the camera. “I’m here to have a grand night, admiring the artwork of a dear friend with a dear friend.”

“Is she just a friend, then?” another one asked. You felt yourself clutch the camera in your hands tighter in hopes of drawing more attention to it. “A close friend, perhaps?”

“She’s all of that and a lot more,” Jiho replied and you felt a cold wave wash over your entire body at his words. “And she’s one of the most talented young acts I know. Careful, boys, her pictures tonight might just overshadow yours.”

“We’re looking forward to it, Jiho!” the photographer said as Jiho lead you inside. Your feet were nearly frozen solid. “Have a great night!”

“You, too!” Jiho wished with a gentle wave of his hand and the two of you finally escaped the cameras by entering the building.

As soon as the photographers were behind you, you pulled your hand out of Jiho’s a little more forcibly than you’d intended and gave him a horrified look.

“What the hell are you saying to them?!” you demanded, not even trying to keep your voice down. “You told me you’d leave our relationship up for speculation and then you went ahead and—”

“And what?” he snapped, your sudden outrage frustrating him much more than your persistent doubts in the limo did. “What was it that I said to them that wasn’t precisely that? I’m planting the seeds of doubt—”

“You’re planting rumors!” you disagreed vehemently. “Do you really think they’ll care about my photographs now that you’d made it seem as if we’re together? As if we’re in love?”

“Of course, they will—”

“They couldn’t care less about that shit!” you continued, noticing how each swear word out of your lips made Jiho cringe and look around to see if anyone heard. “All that their cameras focused on was you holding my hand. I’m nothing to them—”

Jiho cut you off by taking a threatening step towards you, his face dangerously close to yours as he whisper-yelled through clenched teeth, “how do you expected to be something when you haven’t done anything? Popularity is earned. I’m earning it for you so show more gratitude and stop making a fucking scene.”

He stepped away a second later and, if you hadn’t been there, listening to him curse and put you down, you probably wouldn’t have believed it. Jiho was a fantastic actor, truly – the way he kept his composure around you all of this time was admirable. But there had to be a reason why you were so adamant to get away from him at all times; clearly, it wasn’t just because you’d misunderstood his intentions the first time you met him. It was also because somewhere deep in your subconscious, you figured he was just playing a role of Jiho, the sweet and eager-to-help photographer, while his real personality was buried deep underneath.

Well, you’d caught glimpses of his real face just now and, when he told you to straighten up and proceeded to wrap one hand around your waist to enter the exhibition hall, smiling as if you hadn’t just argued, you knew that the decision to drop everything, cancel the contract, and find another way to get your name out there was the right one.

“Jiho, I—”

“Shh,” he hushed sharply. “I need you to stay quiet right now. I’m looking for the host, I’m going to introduce you and then off you go, taking your pictures. Got it? I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now.”

“Me neither. I was just—”

His grip on your waist tightened. “What did I just tell you?”

His voice sounded like it came straight from hell and yet, instead of feeling intimidated, you felt incredibly relieved. You weren’t wrong, Jiho may have just been the devil incarnate with some very well-trained – albeit pretend – manners.

You stayed quiet, allowing him to search for the host of the night because you figured that if you had to end the night without a contract – you didn’t think it was possible that Jiho would agree to cut short to your exhibition instead of just dropping you right away – then it’d be great if you would get to meet a few more influential people beforehand. They probably weren’t going to help you out, knowing their relationship with Jiho, but it wouldn’t hurt to have them learn your name.

As soon as you shook the hand of the photographer whose pictures hung on the walls of the hall around you – your face hurt from all the fake smiles already, even though you’d only been here for less than twenty minutes – something happened that made you regret leaving your house tonight even more. You should have bolted in the opposite direction as soon as you saw the limousine approach, really.

“Hello,” an awfully familiar voice sounded next to you. You thought you experienced what falling from the twentieth story of a skyscraper must have felt like when you turned around to meet Jackson’s eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh. H-hey,” you choked out, painfully aware of Jiho’s hand still on your waist. “I’m here with—”

“Hello,” Jiho turned around as soon as the host of the exhibition walked away. You may have feared Jaebum meeting Jiho but you couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going to happen when one of Jaebum’s best friends met him instead. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m—”

“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Jackson asked, his hand coming to rest on your waist instead.

Taking advantage of Jiho’s confused features, Jackson pulled you away from him and – before you could protest – walked you to the closest bathroom he could find, closing the door behind you.

“I’m sorry for cutting it straight to the chase,” he spoke as calmly as he could given the situation, “but, shit, who the hell is that?”

“T-that’s Jiho. He’s—”

“A scumbag that’s about to get his ass kicked, I hope?” Jackson finished for you. “What are you doing here with him?”

“I’m—God, it’s a long story,” you said, the exhaustion you’ve felt since you signed the contract showing in your voice. “I’ve signed a deal with his gallery, so I have to—”

“Does Jaebum know you’re here?”

“Jackson—”

“Because, I swear to God, I have no idea what you’re doing but I—”

“Jackson!” you said louder, suddenly afraid of the fire behind his eyes. He looked frantic. He looked like he was going to knock Jiho out right after he left the bathroom and his hand was already reaching for the door handle. “Please listen, I’m just—I came to the exhibition. I’ve signed a contract with a gallery Jiho represents and I need some exposure—”

“Some exposure?” he frowned, the look on his face depicting every frustration you were feeling inside. You were afraid to look him in the eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can’t host my exhibition while no one knows who I am,” you answered. “I need to—”

“That’s bullshit!” Jackson snapped. “How are you supposed to get exposure without hosting any exhibitions? Did he convince you this was a good idea?”

“No, I don’t think this is a good idea, I—”

Jackson threw his hands in the air, startling you. “Well, then what the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I’m trying to get my name out there!” you replied in agitation. Jackon’s accusing tone and the questions he was firing at you confirmed that your raised voices in this bathroom were going to be nothing in comparison to the storm this would cause with Jaebum. “Fuck! I’m just—I’m trying to get some publicity. That was part of the contract.”

Jackson scoffed. “That guy has you pressed against his side like you’re his trophy wife. I don’t know what kind of publicity you’re seeking but I can assure you, this isn’t it. Jaebum—fuck, is he on board with this?”

You almost flinched when he mentioned Jaebum again.

“Of course he’s not—actually, uh, he doesn’t know the—”

“He doesn’t know?!”

To say that Jackson was appalled would have been an understatement.

“He doesn’t know the details!” you tried to explain, feeling yourself tear up but desperately trying to remain calm – or, well, as calm as you could with Jackson looking at you like you’d just killed your way through the West Coast. “He knows I have to attend these events for a little while, he just—I didn’t tell him about Jiho. The three of us go way back, he hates the guy.”

“Oh,” Jackson said in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice. It was scary to hear his deep, somber tone take such a sarcastic chirp turn. “So, that makes all of this better!”

“It doesn’t,” you tried. “And I’ll tell him—”

“Like hell, you will.”

“W-what?”

“If you hadn’t told him yet, clearly, you’re not that eager to tell him at all,” he stated.

“No, I want him to know,” you insisted but you weren’t sure if you meant it. Hearing Jackson voice your real intentions was the ultimate turning point and every single ounce of guilt came pouring out of your eyes in tears. You really didn’t want Jaebum to know. “I-I just don’t want to fight with him about this—”

“Then maybe don’t do this!” Jackson continued, still as loud as before but gentler now that you started to cry, “if you’re doing something that’s going to start a fight with your boyfriend when he finds out, then you’re probably stepping out of line in a major way, don’t you think?” he paused as soon as he realized how riled up he was. He brought his hands through his hair to calm himself down. “God, I’m sorry, I can’t—I seriously have a hard time understanding this. W-why did you think this was a good idea? How the hell did you think faking a relationship with someone was going to go under your own boyfriend’s radar?”

You sniffled, trying to focus on your breathing so you wouldn’t sob out loud, “I’m not faking a relationship—”

“Oh, okay, well, don’t worry about that – that guy out there is doing it for you,” Jackson countered.

“No, I—this,” you felt yourself hiccup, “it w-wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Fuck, what was it supposed to be like?” Jackson asked. “Because last time I was on the phone with Jaebum, he was in my studio, writing a fucking song about you. I definitely didn’t think I’d hang up the phone, turn around, and see his girl walk right past me with another guy.”

You barely had enough time to process what he had just said when a knock came on the bathroom door.

“Is everything alright?” Jiho’s voice called out. “I hate to bother you but we should probably get back out here. We’re here for your benefit, after all.”

“In a moment!” you replied through a stuffed nose. Jackson sighed, his hands on his hips and his eyes focused on the floor. The fact that he couldn’t even look at you felt like a whole new stab of pain. “Look, this is the last event I’m doing. I’m ending it tonight. If they won’t let me host an exhibition, I’ll find another solution. I won’t do this anymore.”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks and tried to steady your breathing.

“How many events like this have you done already?” Jackson asked another moment later. He may have been angry with you but he hated to have been the reason why you started to cry.

“Just a few, it hasn’t been that long—”

“And how long were you planning on doing this for?”

“N-not long,” you said, your breath hitching again. You exhaled slowly before finishing,  “ideally, I want to end this tonight.”

“But you’ll still work with him – with a guy who’s obviously very interested in making the public think he’s dating you – and Jaebum will still not know about it, is that what you’re planning?” Jackson continued, watching your eyes fill with tears again but not being able to stop himself. He’d have put his life on the line for his best friend and it was starting to feel like that was exactly what he was doing right now because he knew he was going to wish he was dead as soon as this blew over. The sight of you crying because of the things he’d said was too awful to bear. “Jaebum will come to your exhibition, not having the slightest clue that there’s a guy who’s—”

“I’ll tell him!” you shouted desperately, pain spilling from your eyes without the slightest intention of stopping. “God, I will! I’ll tell him everything.”

“Will you? Will you, really? Because he’s my best friend. I can’t just stand here after I learned about the shit that he doesn’t know but should know. Fuck. I think you’re great, I really do. And, God knows, I’m so sorry I’ve made you cry tonight,” he added and then, even despite all that he’d just said, stepped closer to provide you with some comfort by carefully wrapping his arms around you, “I think the two of you are perfect for each other but, fuck…” he sighed after hearing you sob against his shoulder, “you know his heart better than I do, but even I can tell that you’re walking dangerously close to breaking it.”

“I wouldn’t,” you whispered, pulling away from him to look him in the eyes. “I couldn’t. I would never, I-I—”

“I know you probably don’t mean it,” he said softly, releasing you. “But he’s going to hate the fact that you’re keeping this a secret.”

“I know he is,” you nodded, stepping away from him and sniffling before slowly bringing your index fingers under your eyelids. Your make-up was most definitely destroyed but that was the least of your worries right now. “That’s w-why, the longer I stay quiet, the harder it gets to find a way to tell him.”

He sighed again. “You know someone has to.”

“J-Jackson, I—”

“Just go, okay?” he asked, turning away from you and resting his hands on the sink, his head hanging low. It was you who felt beyond ashamed and yet he looked like he was the one making the biggest mistake of his life. “That guy’s waiting for you out there.”

“Please, I’ll tell Jaebum about this, I just—”

“Go,” Jackson repeated. “Please.”

You reached the door but turned around as soon as the last tears slid down your cheeks. You waited for him to turn around to look at you but he wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you said slowly, the ball in your throat from the tears and the pain and the guilt suffocating you. “I love him.”

Jackson whipped his head to face you. “Does he know?”

Looking down again, you didn’t even dare to shake your head – and you didn’t have to, Jackson knew the answer already. This was another thing you’d never gathered the courage to tell to Jaebum.

Jackson looked away again and, after another torturous moment, you dared to exit the bathroom, closing the door behind you and feeling yourself tear up yet again as soon as you saw Jiho’s polished shoes.

“What was that about?” he asked you right away.

“Jiho,” you said sternly, your vision clouded with tears. You thought you saw him take a small step back in shock once he saw your puffy red eyes. “I won’t do this anymore. I need an answer right now – can I host my exhibition at your gallery or not? Because if not, I’m ending the contract right this moment.”

“Well, of course, you can,” Jiho replied, surprised. His fake face was back on and you wished nothing more than to claw it off. “You just need a little bit more exposure and—”

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t like this. I didn’t like the article written about us, I didn’t like what you told those photographers out there, and I don’t like the fact that we’re, essentially, pretending to be in a relationship. I’m not—I don’t want to do that. Either, I host the exhibition now or I’m leaving.”

“Well—that’s—where is all this coming from? I thought we’d reached an agreement. You’re so close to—”

“The only thing I’m close to is ruining the only thing that makes sense in my life,” you were the one who kept cutting him off this time. It was nice to have the upper hand for a change even if you had a feeling it would backfire. “So, tell me right now: will I have the exhibition at your gallery or not?”

“I-I can’t give you an answer immediately,” he replied. “I need to check in with the gallery and we need some time to consider this.”

“Okay. Consider it, then,” you said, exhaling shakily as you turned around towards the front door of the hall. “And give me an answer as soon as possible.”

“Wh—right, but where are you going?”

You didn’t stop as you answered curtly, “I’m going home.”

    chapter directory

[randomoranges]

warning for innuendo?  amnesia au part 149

“Hey, so, this is kind of out of the blue, but I’ve been wondering – I know you said everyone suggested it – but, why did you move out? I mean, would you have stayed, if you could?”

Étienne blinked at the message on his phone. He had no idea what had prompted Edward to ask such a thing and he quite frankly didn’t know how to go about answering it. He started typing out an answer, erased it halfway through, tried another one, and then grew frustrated with the process. Eventually, he gave up.

“Are you still up? Is it safe to call? Can I call you?”He typed out instead.

His heart started beating faster at the thought and part of him really hoped Edward would say he was busy or that he was about to go to bed, or something.

“Yeah, sure.”

Well then. Étienne took a deep steadying breath and hit the call button. What was he even getting into? The phone rang once, before Edward picked up and Étienne braced himself.

“Hey there, stranger.” And he absolutely hated how he went a little bit weak in the knees at the sound of Edward’s voice. It had been ages. He sounded so soft and lovely and Étienne had heard that voice so many times before – that “it’s late, but I’m not exactly sleepy, just a little tired, but we’re having a nice talk”, voice. He’d curled up by that voice so many times before, had had Edward run a hand down his back as they’d talk about this and that and part of him yearned for the chance to do that again.

“Hey yourself,” He murmured and settled back in his bed. If he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment for one second longer, then so be it.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your question – would I have stayed?” He paused and Edward told him to go on, “It’s – complicated. I mean, at first, that was the idea. There was no reason for me to go anywhere else. But then when you woke up without your memories? At first, I wanted to,” He said and it was true, never in his mind had he ever thought of moving out or abandoning Edward, “I wanted to stay. Some eternal optimist in me figured we’d make it work and eventually your memories would trickle back in. Obviously, that hasn’t been the case and then the doctor intervened saying it would be best for you – not to overwhelm you and whatnot. And between the doctor, your mother, my own emotions, I caved in, as you know...” He trailed off.

He remembered the doctor trying to get him to agree, explaining how too much stimuli would be bad for Edward – how it could cause him seizures or something or other. He hadn’t really paid attention, his mind playing on loop the part where it would be best if he moved out.

“But if they hadn’t?...”

Étienne thought about it again, would he have stayed? Would he have been able to?“I... don’t know.” He admitted. “Given how things turned up, I don’t know if I could’ve stomached having you around with another guy. I mean, you do you and whatnot, but – I wouldn’t have been able to see you being with another guy. I probably would have moved out, or something.”

Étienne remembered the times before they had officially started dating. When he’d been harbouring feelings for Edward in secret and how much it had eaten him alive when Edward brought another man home. Or when he’d accidentally walk into the kitchen to see Edward and his current boyfriend exchange a kiss. He could only imagine how it would have destroyed him now – to see Edward and Christopher all lovey-dovey. That one disaster of a double-date had been enough.

“I guess that’s fair,” Edward finally said.

“What brought this on?”

“I don’t know – thinking, I guess. S’just, sometimes, this place feels like it’s not really mine, y’know? It’s like – like if someone came in at night and moved everything one inch to the right. You know everything is there, but it feels off. It got me thinking – what if you’d been here? Would it feel the same? Would it feel right or would I still go walking around and bumping my shin on the coffee table, you know?”

The answer surprised Étienne and it made him think some more. Maybe if he had stayed with Edward, they could have started a new relationship – or maybe his presence would have helped Edward remember more. Or maybe it would have made him go mad and he’d have left...

“I guess we’ll never know. Isn’t it late, though, for all this philosophical thinking? You can’t tell me this is the highlight of your evening.” He teased, trying to change the gears to their conversation, going back to something light and easy. He didn’t want to start going down the rabbit hole of how things could have played out differently between them.

Edward chuckled, “And what if it was?”

“You used to be so much fun,” He said, mock serious.

“I’ll have you know, I am still plenty fun, you’re just not here to witness it.”

“Mmm-hmm, I find that hard to believe. Face it, Edward, we’re old, past our prime and now fucked up.”

“Speak for yourself, I am living my actual best life,” They both laughed at that statement, but it was nice – to tease this way, to joke around.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Prove it, where are you right now?”

Edward was silent for a moment, “The living room couch,” He admitted, guilt and shame evident in his voice.

“Ha! See, boring.”

“What about you, mister fun times in the summertime?”

“I’ll have you know that I am in bed,” Étienne told him with an air of real seriousness that had Edward laughing. “A very noble and exciting place to be.”

“Oh? Are you now? Is this that type of conversation? Should I ask you what you’re wearing?” He teased back. And Étienne’s cheeks only heated up a bit, but – he went along. This was turning out to be a nice, fun conversation and it reminded him of the times before he and Edward dated – when they’d mess around with each other and joke and tease until they were wheezing on the floor.

“Well, since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll have you know that I’m wearing some nice light blue pyjama pants with rainbow motifs on it and the baggiest pink shirt you could imagine. It’s all, very alluring, I’ll have you know. Brings all the – people to the yard, and such. And you?”

“Wow, so very hot,” He answered, chuckling, “Well, feast your imagination on this; old grey sweat shorts and a paint stained black t-shirt. How’s that for the epitome of hotness?”

Étienne laughed and had to stop himself from saying that he probably did look very hot, “Please tell me it’s not those old ratty shorts – the ones that have a jean patch somewhere on them?” They were the actual ugliest pair of shorts in existence and he had tried, many times, to get rid of them, but Edward loved them and liked wearing them when he was working around the house. Had saved them from their doom every time Étienne had tried getting rid of them.

“And if they were? Are you turned on by the image?” Edward asked, voice dramatically lower, exaggerating this whole thing and Étienne could hear him waggle his eyebrows in a suggestive way and he wanted to throw a pillow at him, even though they weren’t even in the same city.

Étienne actually groaned, “You’re the worst. I should have burned them when I had the chance.” He tried to stifle his laughter, but failed spectacularly.

“That’s not answering the question, Étienne.”

Étienne rolled his eyes, wiping the tears of laughter away, even if he knew Edward couldn’t see him, “Oh yeah. So incredibly turned on right now. So hard. Feel like I’m sixteen again and sifting through a porno. Wow. I bet you popped one too.” He deadpanned and he couldn’t help himself but grin when he heard Edward lose it on the other end and laugh.

“What I do when I’m on the phone with you, is between me and these four walls,” Edward tried to say seriously, but his voice cracked again with another peel of laughter.

For the next few moments, there was no coherence to their talk as they laughed, wheezing and gasping. Whenever one of them would start calming down, the other would mention something ridiculous that would send them both giggling like mad all over again, but this was nice – really, to laugh in such a carefree way without holding back.

“God, it’s good to hear you laugh like that again, Étienne.”

“Thanks for that – can’t say I remember the last time I did...”

“I missed hearing you laugh,” Edward admitted, quietly and it did wonders to sober up Étienne.

“Miss – ed, missed hearing you laugh too...”

--

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[jksmoongf]

Kissing Fire [pt. 7]

Pairing: Jungkook x reader x girlfriend (oc) Genre: cheater!AU, angst, smut Wordcount: 6.7k Warning: smut, lies, heartbreak and more lies and maybe fluff if you squint

Summary: It always feels like there is only one person in the world to love. And then you find somebody else.

a/n: I don’t condone cheating on your s.o., so please don’t read if you have a problem with this! (also I’m not saying this is something Jungkook would actually do!) Warning chapter 7: drama, baby!, light smut (thigh riding, oral (male receiving), cum play (kinda? If you squint really hard?)), mentions of masturbation 

Senses numbed from the alcohol; she awkwardly climbed out of the taxi, not caring that the short party dress had ridden up, exposing her panties not only to the driver but also to a couple passing by on the sidewalk. The last bit of decency she had left, she lost five soju bombs ago when her coworker paid for another round. Her legs were unsteady as she walked up to the little booth where the night shift security guard was watching a drama on a small monitor to keep himself awake at this time of night. “You’re out late.” He commented matter of factly. “It was my coworkers’ birthday so we went out.” Her tongue felt heavy as she tried to form a coherent sentence; the clear liquor slurring her speech every so slightly. A grin plastered all over his face, the guard jotted down her name on the visitors' list for the protocol. “Can you even sign your name?” He handed her a pen, scooting the sheet of paper through the small window. Rolling her eyes; she quickly signed next to her name; drawing a little heart after the last letter. “If I didn’t know you, I would say this isn’t you.” His eyes scanning her terrible attempt. “Lucky for me that you do know me. Don’t let them know I’m here, it’s a surprise.” She warbled, trying to walk away in a straight line to the apartment building. Halfway, she decided it would be easier if she took her heels off; carrying them, she made progress quickly, her legs feeling wobbly as she climbed up the stairs that never seemed to end. In the elevator, she fished her phone from her bra, and as soon as the doors slid open she tapped on Jungkook’s name. Steadying herself on the wall, she impatiently waited for him to pick up. “Hello?” His sleepy voice mumbled. “Baby.” She giggled. “Y/n? It’s 2 am, is everything okay?” The rustling of the duvet told her that he was sitting up in bed, a lot more awake than before. “Yeah, come open the door for me, will you?” Slowly, still guiding herself on the concrete wall, she walked towards the door. “What?” “Kookie, the door.” She whined, stamping her foot, the noise echoing loudly in the empty hallway. “Okay, wait.” With her back against the wall, she slid down until she was sitting on the cold floor. Stroppily she ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her breasts in the low cut dress while singing Party in the USA quietly to herself. The clicking of the lock made her head spin around. “Noona?” Jungkook whispered until his eyes landed on her, scrambling to get up. Quickly he reached for her waist, lifting her onto her feet. “What were you doing on the floor?” “I was waiting for you.” Clumsily she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing sticky lipgloss kisses to his cheek. “You took so long to come get me.” “Only Two minutes.” “Two minutes can be very, very, veeeerrrrryyyy long.” She pouted, the tips of their noses touching. “Did you drink?” His lips curled into a smile. “Yeah but don’t tell on me, I have gum.” Her arms unwrapped from around his neck before scurrying to open her bag to look for the gum. “I won’t, I promise.” “Here…” Holding up the gum, she looked at him as if she had forgotten why she was looking for it, to begin with.  “Let’s go to my room.” He suggested, not wanting to get caught by one of his members. “My shoes!” She stumbled forward as she bent down to pick them up. Chuckling to himself he wrapped his arm around her tummy. “Be careful, baby.” As quietly as possible Jungkook closed the door behind them, listening for any sign of someone being out of their bedroom. “You have to be very quiet, noona.” “Got it.” Giving him a thumbs up after throwing her heels with a loud thump on the floor, next to an array of sneakers from the day before. Lacing his fingers with hers, he led the way to his room, cautious not to make any noise that would cause his older brothers to enter the scene. Only a few steps away from their destination, he suddenly heard a bump when she walked into a small sideboard mounted to the wall. “Noona…” He hissed through gritted teeth but she just started laughing, letting go of his hand as she hopped in place on one foot causing her to lose balance, crashing into the wall on the other side. Panic shot through his body; she would wake everyone up if he didn’t stop the giggles. He kneeled down next to her, cupping her face to seal her lips with a kiss but she pushed him away. “Ssssshhhhh Kookie, we’re supposed to be quiet.” Tilting his head a little, he let out a sarcastic chuckle before picking her up to carry her the rest of the way - controlling the damage her drunk state would get them in if he let her walk on her own. “Wow, you’re really strong. Do you work out?” Her hand squeezing his biceps in awe, as he pushed the door open with his foot. “You know I do.” Carefully he sat her down on the bed, watching as she crawled to the middle of the mattress. After locking the door, he sat down next to her, his leg dangling off the side, toes grazing against the hardwood flooring. Gently he brushed her hair from her face. “Did you have fun tonight, baby?” “Yeah, I did. I had…” She trailed off, using her fingers to count. “Seven Soju bombs.” “Seven?” His dark doe eyes were wide in shock. “Baby that’s a lot. You’ll need medicine so you don’t feel sick in the morning…I’ll g-..” “No, I need you that’s why I came here…” Interrupting him mid-sentence. “I missed you.” She whaled, throwing herself at him, pushing him down into the pillows. Lips greedily attacking his, tongue licking into his mouth instantly. He caved in; making a mental note to get the medicine before she would fall asleep. Jungkook could still taste the last remnants of alcohol, eyes falling shut as he fell victim to her lips. Trying to help her take her jacket off while she was intoxicated, as well as being trapped underneath her, proved to be a lot more difficult than he had expected when she was hellbent on not breaking the kiss. Like a baby deer in headlights, he looked at her, his movements stopping momentarily, only having freed one of her arms from the denim, he felt her clothed heat rubbing against his thigh. Groaning into her mouth, he pried his lips away to look at her. As if she was in a trance; she rocked her hips back and forth, making his gym shorts ride up. Her brows knitted together, eyes shut tightly - she focused on getting the friction she needed from him. Jungkook was holding his breath; his member pulsating uncomfortably against his leg, growing harder as he softly followed the curvature of her body in the scraps of fabric she called a dress, pulling it up over the rounds of her ass. Senses beginning to tingle as his fingertips traced the lace pattern until his hand was down far enough between their bodies. Breaking the point of contact for a split second she allowed him to pull the thin fabric to the side. She buried her face in the crevasse of his neck, breathing heavily against his skin, setting it on fire. With hands firmly placed on her hips, he helped her keep a steady rhythm. “Kookie…” The needy moan startled him, feeling her arousal coating his skin as she sank her teeth into his clavicle, trying to muffle the sounds leaving her. Not once had he imagined that her humping his thigh would make all the blood rush to his dick, straining hard against the polyester. Unsure of what to do, he flexed his muscle in hopes of helping her chase down her orgasm. In between moans and his name falling from her lips, she placed wet open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. No longer able to resist the urge to touch himself; Jungkook palmed himself through his shorts, desperately in the need of some friction that would relieve the pressure forming a tight knot in his stomach. Trying to keep up the intervals of tensing up and relaxing his femoris, the slick melody of her folds grinding against his skin fogged up his mind; eliciting staggered whines from her. “Fuck…” She cried out and without warning, she sat up. Rolling her hips faster than before, her nails digging into his chest for support. Jungkook’s eyes were glued to her; her head thrown back in ecstasy, moans echoing in the dimly lit room as her hips were maniacally grinding against him. He was mesmerized; she looked so beautiful while using him- his thigh to get herself off. With her mouth in an o-shape, his name rolled so easily off her tongue even though she was drunk. There was nothing he could do; he just stared at her feeling her legs beginning to shake and that’s when he knew the volcano inside her was about to erupt. “Baby..I’m…” She fell forward, collapsing on his chest, muffling the scream of her orgasm washing over her against his burning skin.  

She was panting; gently he caressed her back wanting to say something but he came up short; embarrassment hindering him of telling her how much she turned him on, how badly he wanted her; feeling bad for not being responsible for her high. Her soft lips were leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach; snapping him out of his thoughts, evoking a groan from him when she pressed them onto the outline of his hard cock. “It’s your turn now.” She hummed gingerly, the vibrations making his member twitch in anticipation. He propped himself up in his elbows, not wanting to miss the view. A shudder ran down his spine when her tongue licked up her own juices; wanting nothing more than to taste the sweet remnants himself. “Let me taste…” He exhaled shakily, not realizing he had been holding his breath. She sat up between his legs, as did he, cupping her cheek, pulling her closer. His tongue darting into her mouth, eager to relish at least one drop of her sweetness. He leaned back against the headboard, there was not a chance in hell, he was going to lay back without watching her get to work. After throwing her jacket on the floor, she peeled off the top of her dress, pushing it down her ribs exposing her bra. Jungkook swallowed hard at the sight, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Peppering an array of kisses across his chest and down his torso, she found herself back between his thighs; cautiously she hooked her fingers under the waistband, pulling down the black gym shorts. “Baby, you made a mess.” She giggled, slurping up the precum that had slowly trickled down his right thigh, some of it soaking the fitted sheet. “Your fault, noona…” His breath hitched when her pouty lips brushed against the sensitive head, blowing on it; covering his body in goosebumps. Her hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, moving it out of the way to have better access, letting her tongue play with his scrotum before taking it in her mouth. He gulped down the saliva that had gathered in his mouth, perspiration beginning to form on his forehead, his dick twitching pathetically against his tummy. With a loud plop, she pulled away, making him groan in disappointment, the pleasurable feeling subsiding quickly. The blade of her tongue slowly licked a wet stripe from the base to the engorged tip. His chest rising and falling rapidly; he didn’t dare to blink, afraid he might miss the moment he had been waiting for but she was in charge and decided to torture him some more before giving him what he wanted. Assiduously she busied herself with covering every inch of his member with kisses, avoiding the tip. “N-noona…please…” He whined, legs stirring impatiently as her nails softly scratched over the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen. “Hm?” She innocently looked up at him, batting her lashes as if she didn’t know what he wanted from her, sucking on the protruding vein on his shaft. “Please…” His mouth felt dry, cheeks flushed as he mustered up the courage to tell her what he wanted from her. “U-use your mouth properly…” He wanted to close his eyes in shame for the words that left his mouth but he knew that if he broke eye contact, she would keep up the game. He loved and hated being at her mercy, “I am using it properly…” She trailed off, her tongue dancing on the fine line between his shaft and the tip making him whine in response immediately. 

“Aaahh n-no…please…”A giggle filled the air before the tip of her tongue gave his head tiny kitten licks, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he felt more precum dripping down. He watched her as she coated her lips in it. “Does it look like lipgloss?” Throwing his head back, he let out an irritated chuckle. “Baby…please, I can’t take it anymore.” Jungkook was about to lose it, he was so desperate to find his release; wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of her mouth swallowing him. “You’re no fun.” She pinched the inside of thigh at the same time as she finally wrapped her lips around the tip; her hand moving up and down his length in a slow rhythm. She lazily sucked on it, like she would a lollipop, hallowing her cheeks to increase the pressure. Taking deep breaths; Jungkook tried to hold it together as she suddenly pulled away. As he was about to groan in annoyance, she adjusted her position to let spit dribble down his cock, before taking him back into her mouth as far as she could, the head hitting the back of her throat easily. Pulling away, she licked her lips only to sink back down again, even further this time. Almost lovingly he brushed her hair from her face; he wanted to see his length disappear in her mouth and down her throat. Her face was close to his stomach, his pubic hair tickling her nose; bobbing her head up and down a few times. While his left hand was still fisting the sheets; his right hand had an iron grip on her head. Eyes glossed over with lust, he bucked his hips up into her mouth just as she was letting his length slide down the back of her tongue. Gently pushing her head down, making her swallow around him, her nails were digging into his thighs resisting the strength of his hand. Choking and gasping for air, she pulled away - a string of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock. “Y/n, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have..” Guilt laced in his voice as a single tear ran down her cheek from the unexpected intrusion. “No, no! It’s okay. Just warn me next time. I wasn’t prepared.” Giving him no time to apologize again, her tongue was pressed flat against the underside of the shaft, licking its way up to the tip. “Do it again, baby.” She smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip. Burying his hand in her hair; Jungkook let her take a few deep breaths before the moist warmth of her mouth engulfed him once again. Sweat dripping down his temples as his breathing picked up, stifling his moans; lewdly she sucked on the tip, her hand working the shaft, spreading the mixture of spit and precum.  “Noona-ahhh, wanna…” Slowly she wrapped her mouth around him, inhaling through her nose, before he pushed her head down, his hips pistoning upward to eagerly meet the depth of her throat. The feeling of utter bliss washed over him, his balls contracting from the tightness of her throat. If this was what heaven was like then he was ready to die. Allowing her to breathe for a moment, he thrust his cock right back in; her face pressed up against his stomach; tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Taking his hand between his teeth to muffle the flurry of curse words falling from his lips. Both of her hands wrapped around his length, pumping up and down quickly while she sucked on the engorged head like there was no tomorrow. “Shit…fuckkk…baby…” He whined, as he finally erupted in her mouth. Hot streams of cum coating her tongue, filling her mouth. But she didn’t stop, sucking every last drop of the liquid gold out of him. His thigh muscles were twitching from the buildup, when she lifted her head up, his slowly softening dick slapping against his skin. “That was a lot.” She smiled, using the back of her hand to wipe away the few droplets of semen from her chin that she had not managed to swallow. Clumsily she laid down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “How do you feel?” His voice was low and husky, he could tell by the look on her face that the alcohol was still poisoning her bloodstream. “Hmm…good? A little dizzy.” She slurred sleepily, wrapping her arm tightly around his chest, pulling herself closer to him. “You need to rest. I’m going to get you some water and medicine.” He tried sitting up, but she wouldn’t move, clinging to him like a koala bear. “No, don’t go. I wanna cuddle.” The needy tone made a smile tug on his lips; she was so cute even when she wasn’t sober. “We can cuddle when I’m back.”  “Ugh, fine.” She rolled onto her back, finally allowing him to sit up and pull his gym shorts over his ass.  “Let’s get you ready for bed first.” She shook her head no but he pulled her up. “Arms up.” He instructed as he rolled the dress up her body before freeing her from her bra. Quickly he grabbed one of his black t-shirts for her to wear but she had laid back down again. “Noona, come on at least put the shirt on.”  “No, don’t wanna…” She rolled onto her side, pulling the duvet up to her chin, looking like a little burrito in her cocoon of blankets and pillows.  “Okay, I’ll be right back” He walked around the bed, bending down to softly press his lips to her cheek. But as he turned to leave his room, she grabbed his hand. 

“Be my boyfriend.” She mumbled, her eyes emptily fixated on the floor. “But I am your boyfriend, baby.” He said, chuckling softly; the crinkles around his eyes showing. “No, you’re not. You’re Yina’s boyfriend, not mine. Why don’t you wanna be my boyfriend, Kookie?” The girl he loved looked up at him; eyes swimming in tears, her lips trembling. “You’ll never be mine.” The moment she let go of his hand, he could feel his heart crack. It seemed like she had lost all hope that he would actually break things off with Yina. Burying her face in the pillow; she sobbed as if she was in physical pain. He didn’t know what to do; wishing that one of his brothers would magically appear to give him advice but he was on his own. Guilt and shame shot through his veins; she was right. No matter how many times he told her that he was hers; he really wasn’t - not fully. He wasn’t leading her on, he truly loved her, he really did. He was so in love with her that he would do anything for her; even jump off a bridge if that was what she wanted from him to prove his love. He would do anything but he couldn’t muster up the courage to end his old relationship. He knew, he should’ve done it months ago but the deep-rooted fear inside him stopped him; only prolonging the inevitable - he would have to hurt Yina. There was no way around it and if he couldn’t find the guts to do it soon, he would end up losing y/n too. How much longer would she stay if he kept breaking his promise over and over again? He laid down beside her sob-ridden body, wrapping his arm around her; pulling her to his chest. “I am yours, baby.” He whispered, his lips brushing against her hair. “I love you so much, you have to believe me.” “You’re not mine…” Her voice was so tiny, so fragile that it ripped his heart right out of his chest. He hated himself for doing this to her; he hated that made her cry so much when he just wanted her to be happy. Letting her cry, he rubbed reassuring circles on her back; Jungkook closed his eyes, tears silently falling down his cheeks. He was causing her so much pain that it was killing him on the inside; making a pact with himself that this was the last time he would have to carry the burden of being the one responsible for making her cry. In a few days, everything would be different; in a few days, everything would be okay. He held her until the tears stopped and she had fallen asleep in his arms; not daring to move, hoping her dreams were better than reality. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I will make this right…for you.” Jungkook whispered, gingerly his lips brushed against her forehead. “I love you so much, you don’t even know…” * “Thank you.” Jimin ran his fingers through his hair, as he eyed his new hair color attentively in the mirror on the wall. “You’re welcome.” The staff member smiled, gathering up the supplies to clean them and put them away. Excitedly he got up, leaving the little in-house salon of the company building; pulling out his phone when he was alone in the corridor to snap a few selfies to post to his family group chat; keeping his promise to his mother that he would keep them updated on everything. Casually he strolled down the hallways looking for his members; Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi were all cooped up in the latter’s studio and there was no way he’d try to interrupt their workflow, not with a comeback around the corner. Jin was going to get his hair cut too; since he had been complaining for weeks on end that it was getting too long. Quickly he sent a text to Taehyung, hoping that he could hang out with him and Ha-na for a little bit before it was time for his physical therapy session, his neck and back muscles feeling tense from practice. Passing by Jungkook’s studio, he noticed a weird flickering light through the milky glass from the door. The youngest member had told him that he wanted to get some work done but he never worked with pretty much all the lights off. Intrigued by the odd scenery, Jimin knocked on the door but got no answer, even after trying a couple more times. Quietly he pushed down the handle; his eyes needing a moment to adjust to the darkness; the room only being illuminated by the small scented candle on the desk and the light of the computer screen, soft music reaching his ears from the speaker on the shelf next to him, blending oddly with an unidentifiable sound. “Jungkookie…” He said, announcing himself when his eyes could finally make out the youngest hair peeking over the back part of the gaming chair but he didn’t move nor did he say something. Panic stirred up in his stomach and he took a few steps towards the desk, simply wanting to check if everything was okay. “Fuck…” Jungkook whimpered, making Jimin stop in his tracks, finally able to recognize the odd slick sound that he kept hearing. Heat rushed to his cheeks, eyes darting to the bottle of lotion next to the candle; this would get really awkward if his brother turned around but he just couldn’t let this opportunity slide; this was the perfect chance to find a new way of teasing him later on and getting back to him for the countless times he had teased him.  Stepping a little to the right, now able to look at the screen Jimin’s eyes grew bigger and bigger, hands flying to his mouth in shock. His heart was hammering against his ribs as if he had just danced the hardest choreography of his life. Expecting to see some illegally downloaded porn, the smile on his face vanished into nothingness when he saw the shaky phone quality video. The blood in his veins froze when he realized who the girl on the screen was when she turned her head; he had seen that side-profile many a times before. Pinching himself - just to make sure he was actually awake and not in a hair-dye infused dream that he actually just saw Jungkook’s name on her lips; wincing from the sharp pain shooting through his arm. It took all of his willpower to get his legs moving; the slick sound intensifying in his ears, wishing he would momentarily go deaf. Slowly he backed away, bumping into the shelf next to the door, catching the speaker in his sweaty hands before it hit the floor. Trying not to make a sound, he placed it back on its designated spot; blindly reaching for the door handle, eyes still glued to the screen as the video started over again, eliciting a moan from Jungkook. Shutting the door behind him; he started running to the nearest bathroom, locking himself in there. Confusion fogging up his brain; he propped himself up on the sink; looking into the mirror. “What the fuck was that?” He whispered in bewilderment; the sinking feeling in his stomach making him want to throw up. Desperately clinging to the tiny spark of hope that this was all a dream. * Ha-na’s head was resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder, while his hand innocently played with her hair, both attentively watching the movie Hoseok had picked; who was now just scrolling on his phone instead of paying attention. Her gaze shifting to the other side of the couch; Jimin was sitting in the corner of the L-shaped sofa, legs pulled up to his chest, brooding expression on his face. It was almost like his eyes were piercing through Jungkook’s skull, who had propped up his laptop on a pillow, y/n sitting next to him, watching as he edited her pictures. “Kookie, what if you turn the saturation up just a smidge?” “Hm, I don't know. I like it with the soft filter better, look!” He tapped the trackpad a couple of times before pointing at the screen. “See, it kind of casts this shadow on your face when I do that…” Her eyes darted back to Jimin, his lips were tightly pressed together as his shaking hand balled up into a fist. Ever since she had met him he had been terrible at hiding his emotions, his face always giving him away. “And if I use the soft one, it …you just look really pretty, noona.” “You think?” Y/n beamed at him; Jungkook’s cheeks turning pink and he shyly smiled at her. Jimin shifted in his spot, anxiously tapping his fingers on a pillow; she could tell he was getting more and more agitated by the second but she didn’t know what was bothering him.  “Oh Tae look, I just got this email…” Hoseok held out his phone for the younger one to see, causing him to lean to the side. “It’s their new summer collection.” “What? Really?” Her boyfriend scooted closer to Hobi so they could look at the pictures together. “Alright, I’m getting us some snacks and drinks.” After patting her legs, she stood up. “Jimin, help?” At the sound of his name, he looked at her in confusion, not expecting to be addressed by anyone in the room, too consumed with trying to kill the youngest with his glares. “Come on, move.” She grinned and he followed her to the kitchen like a lost puppy trailing behind its owner. Casually she opened one of the cupboards pretending to look for some chips before snapping around; trying to catch him off guard but Jimin was just leaning against the counter, too deep in thought to even notice. “What’s up with you?” “Nothing.” He muttered under his breath, tracing the marble pattern of the countertop with his fingertips. “You’ve been acting strange ever since we got in the car to go home.” “Oh no, I’m just tired. It was a long day.” She raised her brows. “You know, I was just wondering…” “Yes?” “Is it normal for friends to be sitting that close together?” His voice was shaking when he asked the question; he was scared of her answer but she knew what he was getting at. “Who? Jk and y/n?” He nodded, not daring to make eye contact with her. “No, it’s totally not!” “So you’re seeing what I’m seeing?” Finally looking at her; he swallowed hard, his palms feeling clammy again. “Yeah, I’ve been seeing it for a while now.” 

Suddenly he reached for her hand, clutching it tightly. “I have to tell you something but I can’t do it here.” He started walking, pulling her behind him to his room. She had trouble keeping up with his long strides, stumbling ever so often. Closing the door behind him, he rested his back against the wooden surface. “I have to tell someone or I’ll explode.” Nervous anticipation flared up inside her; was this the moment she had been waiting for for months now? “Ha-na promise me, you won’t tell a soul about what I’m going to tell you!” He made his way over to her; grabbing her shoulders his fingers clawing into her shirt. “I promise.” “You can’t even tell Taehyungie! I don’t want him to get upset.” Jimin held out his pinky and she wrapped hers around his. “Pinky promise, I won’t tell anyone.” “Okay, so I went to Jungkook’s studio and I-…” “Ah here you are, we wanted to order…” Hoseok opened the door to his and Jimin’s room; both of their heads snapping in the older one's direction. “GET OUT!” They both yelled in unison causing the older one’s eyes to almost pop out of his head. “You brats! You’re not getting any tiramisu!” Hobi said in this best dad voice, swinging the door shut, muffling his chuckle.  “Go on Jiminie, I’m dying here…” As if to prepare herself for what he was about to say, she covered her mouth, her teeth sinking hard into her bottom lip. “So I walk inside, it’s dark and I hear that weird noise and at first I didn’t know what it was… Ha-na he was…” He trailed off, deciding on making a gesture with his hand, instead of saying the actual words. “He was beating the meat? Charming the snake? Cleaning his snorkel?” “OHMYGOD! Don’t call it that.” He screeched, flailing his arms to get her to stop using weird analogies. “So you walked in on him masturbating? What’s the big deal? You’ve all lived together for so long, even sharing one room and beds, I’m sure it has happened before…” Disappointment was swinging in her voice; her hopes of something exciting happening crushed into pieces.  “Yeah but that is not the point that threw me off, he was watching a video…” Taking deep breaths to muster up the courage, he finally said the words she was dying to hear. “It was a video of y/n having sex and I’m pretty sure it was Jungkook who was fucking her, I could see his hand and his arm, I know it was him. I couldn’t hear any of the audio because he was wearing headphones but I could read his name from her lips.” 

“Finally, thank you.” She threw her arms around him in relief to finally have the proof she needed, hugging him so tightly he thought she was going to break his ribs before letting him go. “What do you mean?” “I knew there was something going on between them. I just knew it! I was right the whole time! I’ve walked in on them in his studio and she was on his lap when there was a perfectly good chair for her to sit on.” “Are you saying it’s not a one-time thing?” Jimin’s eyes grew bigger, not able to grasp the concept of this happening for longer than he had originally thought.  “Trust me, it’s been months. A couple of days ago, after our game night, I saw them making out in the kitchen when everyone was asleep. I just wasn’t sure if it was just that or if they were having sex.”  “Well, I saw it with my own two eyes.” He cried out, throwing his head back dramatically. “The images still flash before my eyes every time I close them. I’ll have nightmares for weeks.”

Tapping her chin with her index finger, she sat down on Hobi’s bed, crossing her legs. “It explains a lot, like why he sometimes disappears and doesn’t come home overnight or why he’s so eager to please her all the time.” “I never really thought much of any of those things.” Jimin sat down across from her on his own bed. “I just assumed he went to Yina’s apartment or he was being really nice to her because she’s Tae’s best friend and he wanted to show Tae that he cares.” 

She was kneading her bottom lip between her fingers; suddenly everything seemed to make sense. All the times she had seen them together coming from an empty break room or dance studio in the company building, how he always made snide remarks about her as a coverup, the way he had acted out of character when they had tried to set up y/n with Hyungsik, trying way too hard to force information out of them on where the date was. “Do you remember y/n coming here after her date and she walked in on Jungkook and Yina and then she cried her eyes out?” Jimin nodded his head; it was like she had switched on a lightbulb above his head. “Hyungsik mentioned to Tae that she was seeing a guy. I’m telling, you there is no mystery guy, it has always been Jk.” “No, Ha-na! I don’t think that’s true.”  “Jimin, it’s so obvious, isn’t it? All the evidence points to Jungkook cheating on Yina with her for months, if you want to believe it or not!” “Jungkookie would never.” Switching places; she sat down next to him to wrap her arm around his shoulders, trying to comfort him. She knew how fond he was of the youngest, he adored him just like the others did. They all raised him although they had been so young themselves. “We taught him better than that, he would never do that.”  “Don’t start blaming yourself; you did nothing wrong. He made the decision to cheat on his girlfriend all by himself! He decided to get his dick wet somewhere else.” 

“Poor Yina. Do you think she knows already or should we tell her?” “She told me that Jungkook has been distancing himself from her but I don’t think she suspects that he’s sleeping with someone. And no, I’m not doing his dirty work for him. If he thinks it’s okay to cheat then he should man up and tell her the truth.” Jimin’s eyes were swimming in tears. “But we have to do something. She deserves to know!” Gently she ruffled his hair. “I know but we don’t have any evidence, we just saw things. We would need actual proof and I’m not going to snoop through anyone’s phone or computer to get it.” The boy groaned, flopping back onto the mattress, rubbing his eyes. “Ha-na, I’m just so confused. I don’t understand why he did it.” Unsure of whether Jimin could handle the harsh truth; she rested her hand on his knee, giving it a light squeeze. “We will never know unless we ask him or both of them.” “No, looking at them makes me so angry. I can’t stand being in the same room with them, being all over each other when they know what they’re doing is wrong.”

Ha-na laid down beside him, staring at the white ceiling. “I really want to know for how long they have been sneaking around, it’s been two months at least.” “Must be a while…” Jimin mumbled. “Haven’t you noticed that they are wearing the same bracelet?” “What?” She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her arm. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I noticed it while trying to murder both of them with my stares. It’s this black leather bracelet with the silver plate.”  “So if they’re wearing couple bracelets then it’s more serious than I initially thought.” With a big sigh, she rolled back onto her back.  “I guess so.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, tears still threatening to spill.  “All this time, I thought that maybe they were just fucking around but what if they are serious-serious?” 

Jimin turned around to lie on his stomach, crossing his arms in front of him to rest his head on them. “I hope they are not, they can’t be. Jungkook wouldn’t throw everything away he has with Yina for someone else.” A grim smile tugged at Ha-na’s lips; if this situation wasn’t so fucked up, she would have deemed it adorable that Jimin held on to Jungkook’s innocence so tightly. All of his members just loved him so much that the thought of him doing one of the worst things one could possibly do to the person they love, was too much to bear. She had made it her mission to find out the truth but now that she knew, the feeling of satisfaction faded quickly. For a moment she closed her eyes; Taehyung’s face appearing in front of her mind's eye; no matter what they were going to do, she had to protect him from finding out. It would break his heart to know that two of the people he loved so deeply were capable of the ultimate betrayal. “Jimin! I want answers, we’re going to talk to Jungkook!” “Now?” He sat up, panic straining his voice. He wasn’t prepared to talk to his little brother; let alone look him in the eyes after everything he had found out today. Remembering the old days, when he had been too shy to even take his shirt off in front of them, let alone talk to girls. But everything was different now -Jungkook had grown up, he would never be able to look at him the same way again. It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach; the queasy feeling never subsiding fully. His little brother, his Jungkookie, the one he treasured so much and who could never do anything wrong in his eyes, was not the person he thought he was. When did he change? Was it all y/n’s fault? Did she trick him into cheating on his girlfriend? His face pulled into a grimace; they were both at fault, after all, it takes two to tango. There were no words to describe how disappointed he was, it felt like it was about to crush him. They all had failed at teaching Jungkook right from wrong when he so blindly ran into the arms of disaster.  “Ha-na, I can’t talk to him. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, feeling hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he finally caved under the overwhelming pressure of emotions. 

[notveryglittery]

sedentary

summary: deceit is tired. remy is warm. ship: remceit (remy/deceit). platonic or romantic. warnings: sympathetic deceit notes: i had an extremely soft dream and decided it needed to be written. consider this a bonus of the Softest series (more of which you can find here)! i myself was very tired when i wrote this so apologies if it doesn’t make sense. @fandersfic-deceit / @5am-the-foxing-hour 

read on ao3!

(“This is a terrible idea,” Virgil whispered to Patton.

“Aw, it’ll be okay, kiddo! I trust them!” Patton reassured, patting him on the head.)

It turned out Patton’s trust in Deceit and Remy was not entirely misplaced. They actually took care of everything that needed to be dealt with in the mindscape with surprising efficiency. Remy was working well, having apparently caught up on all the rest he needed beforehand, and some sort of caffeinated tea in his tumbler. Deceit really did have the best intentions in mind for Thomas, even if it sometimes didn’t seem like it, and mostly just wanted to get this all over with, so he could go take a nap.

By the end of their tasks, Deceit had gone from drowsy to full on exhausted. Work meant for five sides (and sometimes Remy) apparently took much more time and energy when it was just two. Who knew right? Remy was finishing whatever it was he’d been drinking. Deceit gave the living room a once over. He went over the checklist in his head. Yup. They were done.

“Well, this was delightful,” Deceit said, sighing. “I so hope we can do it again soon. Until then, I’m off to stay awake awhile longer and take care of so many things.” Hm, that was not very convincing, but cut him some slack, he was practically dead on his feet. He was ready to sink out to his room, where he’d take a nap, and admittedly be a bit lonely and cold, but he had enough blankets, and this was how all his naps went anyway so no big deal.

Remy snapped his fingers. Deceit paused.

“Uhm, I don’t think so, honey,” Remy said, tilting his sunglasses down and peering at Deceit from over the edge. “If you’re taking a nap, I simply cannot allow you to take one alone. You do know what I represent, right?” Remy tapped his chest, as if the paper proclaiming “Sleep” would be attached. It was not, obviously.

Another finger snap and the couch was suddenly piled with blankets. Remy got to work on transferring them all to the recliner in what looked like an absolutely terrible comfort nest, something that would be awfully warm and cozy… and nice…

“Go change into some loose pajamas,” Remy was saying, waving Deceit towards the stairs. “This’ll be ready in five minutes, tops.”

Deceit, much too tired to deal with the attitude Remy would give him if he disagreed, headed upstairs to change. He almost fell over at the top of the staircase before catching himself along the wall. Blinking slowly, he sighed, and shuffled down the hallway to his room. He almost fell asleep standing up, leaning against the doorframe, but managed again to stay awake long enough to continue. By the time he’d changed (black sweatpants and a golden yellow sweater that Patton had knitted for him a few years ago), Deceit was just about ready to pass out. His bed looked so tempting… Even the floor would do… Maybe if he just…

Deceit jolted out of it just before he could fully lower himself to the carpet. No! Nope! Remy was waiting for him downstairs! With blankets and a recliner and soft… warm… cozy… Deceit blinked, hard, and shook his head. He could make it. He could definitely get back downstairs without falling asleep in the hallway.

(He only paused in the hallway once, leaning against the wall for a few seconds. He startled himself awake again when he started to slip down it and experienced a very mini version of the jerking sensation of falling in a dream.)

“There you are!” Remy trilled the moment he saw Deceit halfway down the stairs. Remy had changed into pajama shorts and a tank top. It boasted “sleep is for the week.” Deceit smiled at it. The moment he stumbled off the last step, Remy was by his side, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Ah, you sweet sleepy danger noodle,” Remy cooed. Deceit gave him a hiss in return, though it probably sounded much cuter than he intended it to. Oh well. Remy was warm.

While Remy lead the way to the recliner, Deceit wondered for a moment how they could possibly fit on it comfortably. They were two grown adults. Remy let him go (Deceit whined at the loss of warmth) and clambered onto the recliner. It was layered in blankets of varying colors and fabrics and sizes and it looked soft… comfortable… nice…

Deceit blinked and the next thing he knew, Remy was settled nicely on the recliner, legs stretched out. He was making grabby hands and Deceit marveled in the possibility, the idea, that someone was reaching out and so eager to cuddle with him.

Remy was smiling, all soft around the edges, like he knew. He’d taken off the sunglasses and his eyes were sparkling with something kind and genuine and… Deceit was way too tired to think this much. He crawled onto the recliner and in turn onto Remy, slightly awkwardly, but the further he got, the warmer he got, and the less he cared about how awkward it was. It took a bit of shifting before they were both comfortable. Deceit was sprawled on top of Remy, legs pulled into his chest.

Remy began carding a hand through Deceit’s hair just as Deceit tucked his head underneath Remy’s chin. He hummed without really realizing it, burrowing further and further into the softness surrounding him; it smelled like Remy’s cologne and laundry detergent and lavender.

“Alright there, sweetie?” Remy asked quietly.

“Warm,” Deceit mumbled, “soft… nice…” Was he sounding even vaguely coherent right now? Deceit wasn’t really sure and he didn’t really care. His mind was just a repeat of ‘warm, soft, nice, warm, soft nice, warmsoft nice, warmsoftnice…’

Deceit was out like a light. Remy pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

(Later, he’d manage a selfie so he could capture the image of Deceit blep’ing, curled up and sound asleep. Virgil would call it “so precious it was illegal” and Patton would put it into the 2018 scrapbook.)

[thehardy-boys]

The Set Designer

Hi everyone! If anyones listening...Here’s another one! Sorry it took me so long to write this request but I finally got it done! Don’t worry I got more requests already in the queue, so I’ll be posting more soon!

Request: Would you possibly do a Cillian reader best friends, with reader visiting peaky blinders set, and Cillian's being slightly flirty maybe handsy or cuddly because he realizes how much he appreciates them loves them even

Hope you enjoy!

"He did not!" You shouted as Helen finished telling you her rather shocking gossip.

"Oh, he did darling, he did." She said giving you a knowing look as she sipped her tea.

"My god, and with her! Of all the girls in Hollywood to sleep with." You said all of this while pouring yourself another cup of tea and splashing some milk in. "He always had bad taste," Helen said glancing around set. 

You as well glanced around. You were both sitting at the round table located in Michaels hospital room. The crew and cast were on break for lunch. 

You worked on the set of Peaky Blinders since the very beginning, season one. You were a set designer, a good one. You made sure the sets were realistic and detailed, you helped with the lighting and the costumes so the corresponded well with the backdrops. You had quite an important role. As soon as you began to work on season one of Peaky Blinders you had made friends with the whole cast.  You and Cillian had always been very good friends since the beginning. 

You and Helen watched Michael get chased around set by Sophie. They were giggling manically as if they were children again. Paul was in an intense conversation with Harry, probably about politics. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around a bit more but no, you couldn't see him.

"Looking for your true love?" Helen teased.Your head immediately whipped back around to face her.

"I have no idea who you are talking about." You mumbled into your cup of tea that you brought up for a sip.

"Hmm. He's still in the makeup trailer." She said glancing at you in amusement. You nodded, "Well I best be off, I got another set to finish." Helen nodded still with a small smirk on her face. 

As you walked off you heard Helen call after you, "Tell Cillian I said hello." You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks and shook our head and continued to walk away. 

As you opened the door to the makeup trailer you really did wonder to yourself why you liked him so much. He was your friend. But god, his eyes, and his laugh, and his smile. He was just too good to be true. "Hello, Darlin'" You heard his rich Irish accent wash over you, clearing you of any coherent thoughts.

"Wassup?" You say playfully.  You moved over and sat down next to him in the makeup chairs. He did something that he had never done before. He lent over and pecked you on the cheek. It was fast and quick and, and lovely. He went back to flipping through his lines as if it was a normal thing to do. And it became one. Now every time you came to visit him in the makeup trailer in the morning he would always give you a quick swift kiss and then you would both start to chat like normal.

"He probably feels bad for me." You said to Helen over another cup of tea. Helen wasn't working today and neither was Cillian but they both came to set anyway wanting to watch the scene that was being filmed that day. "Why would he kiss you on the cheek every day because he feels bad for you?" Helen asked utterly confused.

You were as well, you actually weren't quite sure why you thought he felt bad for you.

"I don't know Helen maybe because he thinks I'm lonely?" You said shrugging your shoulders.

"Maybe you're in denial because you can't accept Cillian likes you," Helen said raising her eyebrows at you.

"He does not like me." You said blandly although a blush did tint your cheeks. "Okay, hon, whatever helps you sleep at night," Helen said after a sip of her tea. "And you like him." You immediately shushed her in case anybody was listening.

"Who likes who?" A strong American voice asked from behind you. You and Helen were both sitting on the floor in the corner of the room trying to stay out of the way.

As you heard the voice you swiveled around and craned your neck up to try and see the face of the man that spoke. But you already knew who it was. Adrien smiled down at the two of you with his hat tilted to the side. "Um..." You tried in vain to think something up glancing over at Helen for help. "Don't worry, I already know who you like," Adrien said with a chuckle winking down at you and Helen. 

"What?!" You said in a horrified voice.

"Love, it's not like your very subtle," Adrien said with a roll of his eyes. Someone called out to him about his hair and makeup.

"And," He said as he was about to turn away, "Cillian likes you too." Before you could deny any knowledge of Cillian he walked away with a bit of a swagger in his step. 

A hand slipped around your waist as you were placing multiple books on the shelf in Tommy Shelby's office. 

You jumped at the contact, "Hi." You heard his low Irish voice from behind you. "Hey." You said back continuing to put books on the shelf. Cillian lent his head against your shoulder and just relaxed there.  You both stayed like that for a while, you putting books onto the shelves and Cillian leaning his head on your shoulder with his arm wrapped around your waist. 

It was calming, hearing his steady heartbeat and breathing. "Where you off to then?" Cillian asked from his seat on the couch in Tommy's office. You work hours were over but Cillian still had some scenes to film for the second episode.

"Helen and I are just goin' out for a couple of drinks, down at the local pub. I would say join us but, well I guess you're still working." You said the last part as a bit of tease, knowing very well that Cillian was tired and wanted to get away from the set.

"Oh, shut up." He said with a smile. "That dress looks lovely on you, by the way." He said calmly. You didn't respond, not knowing what to say.

"Blue always looks amazing on you, but really every color does." He said again as if he was talking about the weather.

"Thanks." You whisper, feeling nervous under the blue eyes of the man before you.

He smiled back but before you had time to return the compliments Helen bounded over and pulled you out of the building ready to get some alcohol in her system. 

After a couple more weeks episode 2 and 3 was done filming and the cast was out for a couple pints down at the local pub as a celebration and of course, you went along as well.

You were on the end seat and Cillian was sitting next to you on your right. Helen was in front of you and Adrien sitting right next to her. Everyone was laughing and talking to each other. Paul and Tom were causing a ruckus at the other end of the table while they laughed. Helen and Adrien were in a very serious and quiet conversation across from you. 

As the night wore on Cillian's arm looped itself around the back of your chair almost as if to make sure you were safe.

Later on in the night, Cillian went over to the bar to get another round for everyone. Without knowing it your eyes followed his every movement at the bar. Admiring the movement of the muscles underneath his simple black t-shirt. After placing his order Cillian lent on the bar and turned around to survey his surroundings and caught sight of you looking at him. 

He smiled at you and gave you a wink, sending shivers down your back and a blush to your cheeks at being caught staring at him. Helen gave you a big sloppy kiss on the cheek as you bid her good night at her trailer door, she was only a little tipsy. 

"Nighty night." She said, only a bit slurred.

Before Helen fully closed the door to her trailer she lent out and whispered in your ear, "Why don't you get lucky tonight?"

At first, you didn't understand what she was talking about but then when she nodded over your shoulder at Cillian you immediately spluttered. "You know what you need to do Helen?" 

"What?" Helen asked curiously.

"Get some sleep." And with a roll of her eyes at your comment she closed her door fully.

You turned around and watched Cillian chatting to Adrien, they both found something funny and laughed together. You admired the way Cillian laughed and the way he smiled when he was happy. 

As you approached Cillian Adrien bid him a good night and one to you as well. "Hey," Cillian whispered as you came to stand next to him. Cillian snaked a hand around your hips and pulled you to him as a big gust of wind blew into both of you. 

"I'm not much sleepy now." You said once the gust of wind was passed. "Me neither."

You both stood there. Cillian's arms were still wrapped around you in a hug. He looked down at you, "Wanna go stargazing?" "Yeah!" You said with a giddy laugh.

As you were halfway up the mountain it started to rain, luckily you whipped out an umbrella and the two of you slowly made your way up the hill. The entire time Cillian always had one arm around your waist, making sure you wouldn't fall. When you finally got to the top you both hunted around for a nice spot. You put down your big raincoat you were wearing and you both sat down and relaxed. 

Cillian placed a hand around your shoulders and you leaned on his shoulder. And after a bit his hand roped into your hair and started to gently play with the ends, relaxing you even more. 

"Why are you so nice to me all of a sudden." You demanded quietly. Cillian looked away from the night sky with a look of worry and confusion on his face. "Aren't I always nice to you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Well, of course, you are, but why are you complimenting me all of the sudden, all the time. And, like, and pecking my cheek, you never use to do that."

Cillian remained silent, he had turned back to look at the starry night. "I bet you feel bad for me." You mumbled to yourself. Cillian's head whipped around to look at you. "Why would I feel bad for you?" He asked.

"I don't know, maybe because you think I'm lonely." You said, now you were the one looking up at the night sky and Cillian was the one intensely looking at you. "I know you're not lonely."

"Then why?" You whispered.

You felt Cillian sigh and take your hand. He played with it, stroking it and tangling his fingers with yours. 

"I really like you. I realized after all this time, after so many years how fond I am of you. And I realize now just how lucky I am to be friends with you, I just can't really help myself touching you. I-you don't have to like me back, I can stop if you want." He said looking away from you to the sky. 

Your mouth hung open in shock, "Cillian, I-I like you too. I thought you would never like me."

Now both of you were finally looking at each other at the same time. Both being sucked into the others magnetic eyes.  

"How could I not? How could I not like you?" Cillian whispered.

Cillian slowly took the umbrella away from you and placed it next to both of you, allowing the rain to splash onto your skin and hair, quickly making both of you soaking. Cillian then, like a predator stalking its pray moved over you, gently pushing you onto your back. He reached down and guided one of your legs around his hips and immediately you hooked your other leg around his hip. His hands were on the ground on either side of your face. 

You could feel Cillian's warmth through his clothing. His simple black t-shirt, now wet was clinging to his body allowing his muscles to show through. You rubbed up to his forearms over his biceps and up to his shoulders. You allowed your hands to glide over the shaved sides of his head and tangle in his wet, unruly brown hair at the top of his head. 

He slowly, very slowly lent down until your lips were inches apart, you could feel the sensation of them hovering just above yours. You, finally getting annoyed with his teasing pulled him down to meet your lips. Allowing them to connect in a heated and passionate kiss. 

It was a like a kiss from the movies.

[hyungkyun]

(^:

HENLO!!! this is ur actual bday present, not that Gross thing i sent earlier lol. again, do whatever u want with it!! u dont have to post it or anything. it’s just easier to submit stuff like this than to, idk, send u an email like a señora lol.

ok so im doing this in bullet point format bc the last time I wrote a coherent, well-written paragraph was like 5 years ago or smth. anyway!! since u hated soooo much my beautiful, amazing, unique goths au im going with the loser couple au… which was also a college au of sorts?? dskjhksjdf this isn’t even an au, since y’all are already losers tbh (^: this also got out of hand…. this shit is eight pages long. idk enjoy bithc.

first of all, ck the kind of dude everyone’s lowkey scared of bc he’s silent and serious af. also he does seem kind of a weirdo, tbh?

youve seen him around, maybe you’re in the same dorms but u have absolutely no idea what he’s majoring in :o and u ask around but no one has any idea either!! oh wow a mystery~~

BUT he’s kinda cute hmmm (^: and u probably find the weirdo vibe interesting

however it’s so hard to get to talk to him. u always run into him when you’re out with friends or in a hurry to get to class so :///

but destiny works in mysterious ways~~~ and once u meet it’s rly. so unexpected.

actually, it’s awful since u get locked out of ur dorm sound familiar?? during winter break, rly late at night after a long study session at the library yes, the library, fight me. so u kinda just. sit down miserably outside ur room, since ur roommates are gone, cursing everything and everyone. u will eventually go looking for someone to help u out or smth but right now u need to Whine.

but oh my!! enter mister im changkyun!!! that weirdo who actually lives a couple of doors away from u (how come you never found out wtf???)

he sees u basking in ur misery and actually. finds u rly cute??? bc you’re pouting, cursing a little under ur breath, fumbling with ur phone. but u also look angry as fuck, ready to kill a man??? and yet you’re really fucking cute what the hell!!!!

so he comes up to u and asks u what’s wrong, to which u answer not so nicely without even looking up from ur phone, bc you’re rly so done with this situation ://

but then u look up and u See who it is fuck fuck fuck fuckfucbicvufkhkcfj

but since ck’s Nice and he understands that u must be having an awful time (and also bc he thinks youre cute) he offers to help u. you’re kind of skeptical since he’s just another student, what could he do???

until he tells u he knows how to pick locks lmaoaoaoaoa. that lil weirdo (‘:

anyway he saves ur night. but since he’s an annoying lil shit he’ll tease u abt it every time he runs into u for the rest of winter break.

since that day y'all basiclly become an old, bickering, married couple fnsdjdj

u never stop annoying each other…. you’re wearing a hoodie? he’ll probably pull the hood all the way down until it covers ur eyes, and u get him back by messing up his hair which, by the way,is so soft….. hmmmm

u call each other nerd and loser and dumbass all the time lmao. he’ll constantly bring up the way u met just to jokingly say that you’d be lost without him :/// he rly is a lil shit.

it’s funny bc everyone figures out u are falling for each other… except u two. and i rly do mean everyone. ur friends. his friends. ur roommates. ur cat. the janitor, too, probably. it’s so obvious it hurts.

one time someone implies u would be a cute couple and y'all literally go all ‘no???? haha me??? liking that loser??? pfft not in a million years’

it’s the biggest lie, of course (: and ever since that person suggested u would look good together, both of u kind of realize it’d be… nice. more than nice. actually, super nice.

but since both of u are dumb tsunderes,  as ive said before, u will literally be the embodiment of this scene… except it goes both ways. honestly u are so gone for each other it’s GROSS.

but we need some angst up in here so y'all dont get together for a reaaaaaaally long time :/ smh. the pining is Real. ppl come and go in ur lives, and each person u go out with sees that u already fell for someone else—and that’s why all potential relationships don’t last much–, but sdjkfhksjdhk!!! neither of u want to openly admit it.

it’s A Mess bc u are actually good friends and u tell each other abt ur dates and stuff—secretly hoping the other will do something—but y'all looove being dumb so u act like it’s all cool and be like ‘o rly!! good for u, i hope it works out’. right. :/

y’all keep dancing around each other for several months until one Merciful Soul gets tired of ur shit and forces u to sort things out. im talking abt locking u up in some room and not letting u out until u stop pretending u aren’t disgustingly in love with each other. or smthequally cheesy (: u know ilove cheese

((obviously everyone eavesdrops through the door bc cmon, theyve been waiting for this for sooooo long))

at first u two are just annoyed at the Merciful Soul betchait was minhyuk, and u spend ur time yelling and cursing them for doing this (all while claiming that this is pointless, since u have NO feelings for each other. none. nada!)

after a very long time, it’s ck the one that confesses first lmao. youve been whining and being grumpy the whole time youve been locked up together and it kinda reminded him of the way u met… damn. here come The Feelings.

he’s tired, and there’s nothing left to lose. so he tells u The Truth.

[suspenseful pause….. what’s going to happen next?? :OOOOO]……… tune in next year to find out, in the continuation of Cristina’s Cheesy Birthday Present!!!

jk, proceed to the next bullet point pls.

obviously u tell him u feel the same way [insert ppl crying in the background] and he’s actually shocked when u say u like him back…. and gosh, he does look cute when he’s surprised…

so yeah!!! it’s until then that u FINALLY go on a date during the weekend!!. hallelujah. thanks minhyuk,u beautiful soul.

so!!! ok!! first date!!! a rly cute fairground in the evening!!!

u try to be fake mean to each other like u used to but everything feels different~~~ (^:

so instead y’all act bashful as hell, and blush at everything jjdfghjfhd. hands brushing accidentally?? BLUSH. eyes meeting? BLUSH. BLUSH BLUSH BLUSH!!! u also laugh at everything bc both of u are so nervous oh gmhg fdknjjkdsfjoidf this is gross.

he’ll tell bad jokes to make u laugh and they’re rly so so so bad that he actually keeps u in stitches. if u look rly closely you’ll see his huge ass heart eyes bc !!!! he made u laugh!!!! and u look so pretty when u laugh omg!!!! dis-gos-tinnnnn

it’d be such a cute date tbh im crying just thinking abt it (‘’’’: obviously he’s a gentleman and he lets u choose what to eat, which ride to go to first, etc. u could literally tell him ‘hey let’s just sit down and do nothing’ and he’d say yes. he’s so gONe, ifmgfjdmf.

he’s kinda quiet and a lot shier than u wouldve expected but youre literally melting bc that’s a new side to him that you’d never thought you’d see.

u end up having so much fun (‘: u gross lil idiots, u.

oh and he’s def the type to ask if he can kiss u at the end of the night EYYYYYY

even if u find that incredibly endearing you’ll probably roll ur eyes with a huge ass smile on urlips lmaoaoaoao and call him a dummy for even asking when you’ve literally be in cloud nine since ur date started kjkhwjeqdkwjlk  

[hello, brief break to clarify that from this point i forgot this was actually a college au lmao, so the rest of the bullet points are literally just. random facts abt u two dating hhhhhh. We dont even know what ck’s major is odjfngnfdj]  

at first things are a lil awkward in ur relationship tbh

catch ck googling ‘how to relationship’ on a daily basis dnfndkfjdncn he is sort of clueless abt how to handle The Feelings. mostly bc this is Important and the last thing he wants is to mess it up )^:

that goes away eventually, tho!! he’ll start being his weird little self real fucking soon, so Get Ready

u still call each other nerd and all that stuff, but ur voices are dripping with fondness when u say it… literally everyone around u gets cavities from it, ew.

he’s not that big on planning dates but from time to time he’ll take u to rly cool, unexpected, interesting places :o  and eventually he’ll show u his favorite secret spots ((’:

study dates are a thing. i bet he’s that type of person that enjoys reading in weird ass positions… his legs are like, halfway off the couch and his arm is bent in a way that looks almost painful… what the hell….?? but it’s fine (: it goes so well with ur study methods, those that are Too Weird for the library, yeah?? (:

he will also stare at u a lot bc u look cute when you’re rly focused on smth that is, when u stop  whining abtstudying…

every time u catch him doing that you’ll go all ‘stop staring at me!!! wtf are u looking at u weirdo’ and he’ll answer ‘you’re so pretty~~~ ♥️♥️♥️’. you’ll blush like a lil idiot, naturally (^: hmmmm

and yea, yea. nap dates are a thing too :/// with sleepy forehead kisses and raspy voices and tangled limbs. all that sappy stuff. he’s a lil shit tho, so he’ll sometimes poke ur ribs to tickle u lmao.

buuuut he’ll also take a lot of pics of u sleeping bc he thinks youre cute )))): his faves always end up being his wallpaper for months.

he’ll get strange gifts for u, like rly bizarre plushies and rare books on topics he thinks u will like,  tacky anime memorabilia, etc. he’ll always give them to u at random times bc he just saw them and reminded him of u ♥️  

he makes a lot of playlists for u too!!! pls listen closely, he puts a lot more thought into them than he lets on.

u like his selfies??? well he’ll send u a lot of those. unfortunately, bc he’s a lil shit, he’ll mostly send double chins and weird ass faces from equally weird angles  

from time to time he’ll send u a Nice One tho ((((^: and u know, tongue selfies since youreSO fond of his(and I quote) “5ft tongue”. and oh gosh! is that a tongue piercing…??? eyyyyyy

if u want to take couple selfies then you’re gonna have a real hard time bc he’ll always be making weird faces and poses just to be annoying. eventually u will make dumb faces too tho (’: what a couple of losers

expect weird random texts: he loves telling u abt whatever is on his mind—probably aliens. he thinks a lot abt aliens and the universe. throw some conspiracy theories in there, too—. he’ll also send obscure memes. and a lot of russian cats!!

he’ll love ur cosplay hobbie. he thinks it’s super cool. he’ll call u a nerd but don’t be fooled! he totally brags abt it with his friends (^:

oh! and this is unrelated but at some point y'all will look like an emo goth couple. u won’t even realize that you’re both wearing black and looking Edgy, it’ll just happen spontaneously. tragic 😔

there are a lot of comfortable silences when u hang out, but late night deep convos are also fundamental :o!!! bc y'all are Smort.

he’ll act like f*cboi from time to time tbh?? he’ll tell lots of dirty jokes LMAO. u roll ur eyes at him a lot bc they’re rly. so bad.

if he winks or does Eyebrow Things then u can’t rly roll ur eyes and act like you’re annoyed bc (: u like it (: and u think it suits him (: and he knows it (: (: (:

u get back at him by telling him he’s cute tho, and he’ll get all shy and he’ll stutter and saying “noooooo” while also fighting back a smile

he will also howl or bark at u to annoy u jdfhkjdf. damn f*rry ://

on that note, he loves to embarrass u in front of ur friends bc he’s a lil shit :DD

But he’s also the sweetest??? whenever he sees you’re feeling down he’ll start doing weird shit to make u laugh. if that doesn’t work then he’ll hug u real tight without saying anything else, bc that’s Enough, u know?? (’:

ok time to get Domestic lads!!!

Idk who the hell is going to cook bc y'all are a damn mess in the kitchen. u two try to cook Nice Meals sometimes. seven times out of ten u end up ordering takeout lmao.

be prepared: he sings in the shower, and he does so terribly. (he might do it a little louder and a little more off-key sometimes bc he knows it makes u laugh)

random kisses are a thing!!! he kisses ur cheek or ur shoulder or ur nape or literally. any body part he can get his lips on when u two are just hanging out, watching movies or smth. it’s so soft and cute )^: wtf im crying

but also stolen kisses!! he’ll kiss u at the most unexpected of times and it alwaysleaves u breathless

he’ll constantly put his head on ur shoulder and make this face at u (^:  

can’t sleep??? don’t worry!!! he’ll sing to u with that pretty, soothing voice of his

anyway. what I meant is that y’all would be such cute little idiots together this was long af. wow. im so sorry. happy birthday??? lmao

I HAD TO PUT THIS UNDER A READ MORE BC ITS SO FUCKING LONG NAT U DUMBASS ICB U DID THIS KFJSKFJSLKDJFLKJ THIS IS SO CHEESY AND GROSS and it also made me realize that u know too much shit abt me. what was that t*ngue part. im not talking to u ever again. aNYWAY U RLY ARE AN IDIOT I WAS SMILING SO BIG THRU THIS WHOLE THING MAYBE I SCREAMED A LITTLE?????????? FUCK U!!!!!!!! WHATS WITH ‘The Feelings’ PART I HATE THAT I ALMOST DIED FUCK OFF IM NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!! I DONT HAVE FEELINGS!!!!!! U CANT DO THIS TO ME SKJFHSKJDHFKSLDJFH 

icb u rly did the fairground first date i rly fucking hate u why did i even tell u these things i knew it was gonna fire back im fjjgjkknknnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn ur ‘tragic 😔’ when we become a goth couple :/ u dont understand goth love

why the fuck did u make him howl. i wanna fucking die rn. what the fuck. he fucking would. fuck off.

i dont wanna talk abt all that domestic shit how did u even write all of that without dying i literally wanna rip all my limbs off i wont make any comment. i didnt need to know what that would be like but u looooove ruining my life so :)

i rly hate u ksdjfhskdjhfksjh icb u did this thank u i wanna die??????????? wtf nat !!!!! no but rly thank u :( u took the time to write this long ass college au (is it????? whats cks major tho rly :/ ) and just skdfjsjk u remembered all the weird shit i told u thats cute and also Really Bad what else do u know that i forgot i told u skdfksjh im literally always screaming at u abt this shit how did u !!! remember all of this!!!!! dldskfjshljhlakjsh this is so cute and horrible nat wtf how could u :( now im gonna cry :(

[cyberneticlagomorph]

Time.

The wards leave you weak, crumpled on the wet ground whimpering like a wounded dog, with the Vorpal sword clutched stubbornly to your chest. Cheshire purrs at you, stepping out of nothingness to nuzzle your face. You can hardly stay conscious now, the cat helps you onto it's back and it carries you to the next room, you pass out before you can make it.

Cheshire drags you in by the scruff and leaves you lying on the grassy floor, you can hear it purring, "One more seal to break, Godslayer, just one more. I still have the key if you want to go home now, they'll understand. You know they will..." it's voice fades away, drowned by unceasing spasms of pain the strangle what coherent thoughts you have left. You can barely breathe now, each breath is a battle barely won, you can't move, the nauseating flavor of butterscotch never leaves your mouth. Your body gives up and shuts down little by little until your soul is starting to drift to a place where pain does not exist and the only monsters are in stories.

You don't fight it, why would you? The bone-deep exhaustion of your life starts to melt away and you are quickly beyond feeling anything but bliss, you let it take you. Something grabs your wrist, you try to pull away but its much stronger than you could ever hope to be. It drags you down down down, away from that wonderful painless place and you cry out in anguish. "It is not your time yet, there is still work to be done," says a voice, you look back at the source with tears in your eyes. You want to go, you want this to be all over, you want to rest. "And you will," says the voice, pulling you in close, "Break the last seal and this can be all over, you can go home. But you can't do that here, ok?"

You cry out again, hot tears roll down your cheeks as feathery wings envelope you in a curtain of radiant gold. Your soul crashes back into your body and you awaken with a pained wheeze, every inch of you burns, bathed in that same golden light that coaxed you from the afterlife. You cough, weak and ragged, defiantly dragging yourself upright as the glow fades and three words echo in the back of your mind, "Heroes never die."

You are no hero. You struggle to stand and face the last seal, your body rebelling every move you make. The last wall is made of clockwork, great brass gears ticking softly in the chamber's silence, the seal-orb sits in the center of a great clock face, as you raise your sword it rings in the hour and reminds you of home. The seal shatters with little ceremony and you are surrounded by the scents of steaming tea and spring flowers.

You stand in a garden of improbable flowers that are taller than trees, singing gentle springtime songs. Sunlight filters through the leaves and blooms, casting kaleidoscope colors across the path in front of you. Somewhere a kettle whistles, somewhere a clock ticks, the Vorpal sword is uncharacteristically silent. You follow the garden path to a low gate and find two houses standing side by side in a mossy clearing, in front of them is a long low table smothered by sweets and teapots singing steamy songs. At the table sits a tall, thin man in an elegant top hat, besides him sits a pooka in a waistcoat with proud rabbit's ears and handsome branching antlers. His eyes are red, his skin is pale, his hair is white.

The helpful mouse you'd thought long dead appears on the table and squeaks at the hatted gentleman, he and the pooka both look up at you and smile. You grip your sword, fearing some cruel trick, the pair beckons you over, the pooka pulls out a chair, "There you are, Jack! We were afraid you'd gotten lost amongst the flowers, pretty as they are they tend to be a bit mischievous, especially during the spring. Come! Come sit, you must be tired."

Confusion is plain on your features, soon to be replaced with suspicion. You don't move from your spot and hurt blooms on the face of the pair, they exchange understanding looks and the tall man sighs, "Told you he'd be a skittish wreck by the time he got here, poor thing." the pooka frowns and sits back down, sighing himself

"We aren't going to hurt you, Jack, its alright. You can stop fighting now, come sit with us and rest a bit, the looking glass can wait a moment longer." the pooka pats the empty chair beside himself, you swallow thickly and make your way over to sit next to him. He smiles at you and pours you a cup of tea, you don't touch it.

"Who are you?" you say to nobody in particular. The pooka hands you a plate of food and clears his throat, your stomach growls. When did you eat last? You hesitantly pick up a cookie and nibble at it, the tall man grins,

"Thatta boy! Name's Cameron, friends call me Cam. Not-friends call me the Mad Hatter." Cam fixes you with a wicked grin and you almost choke on your cookie, a few sips of tea fix that dilemma however. The pooka pats your back a little,

"Easy now, my name is Kermes, the Chronomancer, humans are fond of calling me the White Rabbit, but you can call me grandpa K." Kermes smiles at you and you are hit with a wave of realization so strong it makes you wheeze a little. You sip more tea and help yourself to another cookie.

"Why are you in here? Legend has it you were lost during the last battle. Everyone thought you died." the sun shines down on you and leaves you warm and sleepy. Despite the events of the last week or so you start to feel safe, contented almost. "Riona thinks you're dead too."

Kermes frowns a little and pours you more tea, "Ah, well, legends aside... no I'm not dead, not yet anyway. Ahem, hm... You see when Alice and I created the seals we wanted to be sure that no one could breach them, not even her, so I volunteered to be the final seal in case any of her offspring were manipulated by our enemies into retrieving the looking glass for their own gain." he pauses, pulling out a pocket watch and checking the time, "Ah... Almost time then..."

You've devoured several more cookies and are halfway through a jam and cream cheese sandwich before you notice he's stopped speaking, "Time for what?" you say with a half full mouth, manners forgotten in your moment of ravenousness.

"Hrm? Don't talk with your mouth full, dear." he glances up from his watch, "You were supposed to be here two days ago but time passes strangely in Fairyland so I guess I can't be too upset about your apparent lateness, no matter how rude it is. I'm just glad you made it here at all, honestly." he slides you a plate of assorted sandwiches and smiles as your eyes light up,"Do you have your watch with you? The one the witches gave you."

You retrieve the umbra watch without a word and hold it up for him to see, Cam gives a long low whistle and leans over to get a better look. Kermes takes the watch from you with the utmost care, he holds it flat on his palm and waves his other hand over top. The umbra watch shudders and comes apart, you make a strangled noise and watch the watch parts hang suspended in the air in layers above the watch's now empty shell.

Kermes looks at you, eyes flicking to your charm,"May I? Don't worry about your time issue, as long as you're near me you'll only inhabit one timeline, well at a time." he snickers at his own bad pun and you hand him the charm, watching it melt in his hands and become an intricate looking gear. Kermes adds it to your watch and the whole thing reassembles itself. He pins it to your sweater, you feel full and warm and sleepy, Cam gets up from the table and stretches. Cam takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his tangled blue curls, he looks very tired,"Is it time then, K?" he says softly, dread fills you up inside.

Kermes frowns again, he looks at you and you look at him, he reaches over and wipes crumbs off your face. "Almost... Just..." he shudders and hands you his pocket watch, "This is for you, it was given to me by my father, who got it from his father, etcetera ad nauseum. It is the last relic of the last Chronomancer clan in the history of Fairyland and all her people, keep it safe."

You store the pocket watch in your chest. Kermes stands up, Cam tosses you his hat, "This is my hat, I like it a lot, take care of it yeah?" you nod and store that too in your chest. The two say something to each other that you don't catch. You look up at Kermes. He kneels in the nearby grass, the Vorpal sword sings and your stomach sours. Tears prick in your eyes, you know what you must do. Cam wanders numbly back to his house, he's known that this was coming for a long long time, but that doesn't mean he wants to stick around and watch it happen.

You feel empty inside as you lift the Vorpal sword, Kermes stays kneeling on the grass. You don't want to kill him, you don't you don't you don't. But its the only way to break the seal. Its the only way to go home. Your face crumples with pain, you shut your eyes against the tears, you kill the Chronomancer and some part of you dies with him.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty Eight: Remedy

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Eight: Remedy 

 Note: It took me entirely too much willpower not to mention what was going to happen in this chapter when I was talking to a few of you about two weeks ago about something. You'll know what I'm talking about as soon as soon as you get to that part!

(-~-)

The peaceful evening silence that enveloped Magnolia’s sleepy tree-lined street suddenly subsided as a low hum filled the air. Within seconds, a glowing blue portal opened up at the foot of her front steps and out stepped Sparda’s descendants, slightly disoriented and unsure of their location at first glance. Nero’s eyes darted from side to side as he took in the area that surrounded them in an attempt to reorient himself. Nothing looked familiar to him until he caught sight of a familiar Apothecary, nodding to himself in silent recognition. How could he forget those stairs? Sometimes he swore he could still feel the indent they’d left in his body the very first time they’d come here.

Dante took in the quiet streets, seemingly recognizing where they were as well. He didn’t vocalize this, but it was evident nonetheless in the way that he relaxed and put his sword away. Explaining that sort of thing to any possible onlookers wasn’t something they intended to do anytime soon, especially after what had happened in Redgrave City. The only saving grace of that incident was the fact that people tended to close their windows and stay inside after dark. And something told the youngest Son of Sparda that something similar might happen to the quiet little beachside town they’d just vacated if they didn’t return sometime soon to make sure that conduit wasn’t functional. From what Dante could tell, it seemed somewhat similar to a Hellgate. If it was possible to destroy it, then they should probably go about doing so.

Moments later, Vergil passed through the portal with V, the portal finally closing behind it’s master as the Darkslayer carried the somewhat disoriented summoner towards the stairs quietly. There was a sort of cutting discomfort that came with the silence, indicating to Dante that his older twin might be more concerned than he was letting on. Vergil was focused on a task, and that task was making sure that V was safe. Anyone or anything that got between him and that task was in for a rude awakening. If there was one thing that Dante knew for certain about his twin brother, it was that when he set his mind to something, it became his only focus until the take was completed. That single minded drive was admirable in some cases, but the things that Vergil tended to focus on were, well, less than ideal most of the time. To say that it was a pleasant change of pace to see him focus on something or someone dear to him instead of staying behind to do battle would be an understatement. Dante just wished that something wasn’t his wounded nephew. It seemed that the young white haired summoner simply couldn’t catch a break.

Just before Nero reached the front door, it suddenly slammed open and out stepped Magnolia, weapon drawn and ready to fight. She looked as fierce and determined as ever. Nero felt a strange sense of dejavu pass over him as the alchemist lowered the long rod in her hands and sat it down against the inside of the doorway, letting out a sigh of relief as she shook her and blinked slowly.

“Well, it’s quite the surprise to see you here, love. But a pleasant one, to be sure. How did you manage to return so quickly…” Her eyes traveled away from Nero and down towards Vergil, widening slightly as she trailed off. The horror in her face was subtle but apparent as she caught sight of V, the back of her hand traveling up towards her face and covering her lips.” That’s a lot of blood. Please tell me he’s not…”

Vergil shook his head as he approached, the summoner in question shivering slightly and letting out a soft cough as if in response to her inquiry. “No, but I can see why you would think that. His condition doesn’t exactly inspire optimism.” 

She met him halfway, placing the back of her hand on V’s shoulder to try and see the injury. With a disapproving scowl and a shake of her head, she gestured towards the front door, back away from them and towards the house. “Come with me. I’ll see what I can do. If everything goes as planned, then the others should arrive in just over two hours. I can work with that.”

Nero and Dante followed closely behind as Magnolia led them into the house, heading down a hallway adjacent to her staircase that Nero honestly hadn't noticed was there the last time he’d visited. The space contained three doors, on either side of the hall and one at the very end. She entered the door at the end of the hallway, passing the one closest to the living room. Upon entering, she turned on the light and stepped out of the way, allowing Vergil to enter. 

At first, Nero was surprised to find that it was a bathroom, but then the logic behind the decision occurred to him. He was soaked in blood. This would probably be the easiest place to remedy that situation and to clean up after the fact. Nero could only hope that the majority of the blood his older brother had came from his kidnappers and not from him, but he silently acknowledged that that was more than likely wishful thinking. V wouldn’t have looked so weary and hurt if things had turned out any other way. But in spite of the fact that he had no idea where V was even injured, he couldn’t help but notice that he’d been limping rather heavily when they’d found one another.

“I think his leg might be hurt or something. He doesn’t seem like he can stand up, and I’ve seen him walk off worse injuries than that before.” Nero said quietly as Vergil placed V into the bathtub. Although there was no water in the tub, V shivered against the cold surface of the porcelain edging, showing that he was still more coherent than his physical state might have alluded to. He blinked slowly for a moment before closing his eyes again and breathing heavily, clearly exhausted but not one to complain about it even when he had every right to do so.

Magnolia nodded in recognition of Nero’s statement before leaning over V and snapping her fingers in order to get his attention. He opened his eyes slightly, only moving his vivid green pupils in response to her presence. Anything more was out of the question at that point. “Sorry, dear. I’m afraid that I have to touch you. I get the impression that’s not something you normally go for. Do forgive me.”

V blinked in a way so slow and deliberate that it could only be taken as a sign of conformation. She then turned her attention to his leg, quickly locating the puncture wound that had caused him so very much trouble. With a sympathetic wince, she sat down on the floor and opened the doors to her sink, pulling out a sizable clear container filled with a number of jars and other miscellaneous products. One could only assume it was a first aid kit of some sort, but they had no way of truly knowing until she actually used it. “That’s quite the stab wound. Some sort of crooked or curved blade if I was to make an educated guess. Nasty piece of work, that one.”

Upon leaning over to silently observe magnolia’s handiwork, Vergil nodded to himself subtly, making a mental note of something. “It seems you were correct, Nero. How observant of you.” Vergil said in an almost impressed tone.” Any ideas as to what kind of blade could inflict such a wound?”

In an action that surprised everyone present, V shifted slightly and reached into his back pocket, producing the very blade in question. The curved dagger glistened in the dim light, raising questions as to what it was composed of in the first place. Even in his weakened state, he found the energy to smirk in self satisfaction at his handiwork. “It’s nothing compared to this,” He said tiredly as he used the same hand to pull back the collar of his shirt on the left side to reveal the deep stab wound Agreus had inflicted upon him,” But I like to think he’s enjoying the matching hole I left in his leg in whatever part of hell he currently resides in.”

Magnolia gestured towards the blade, quietly requesting to hold it. V obliged, more than happy to not have to look at it again for a while. She turned it over in her hands, examining it in earnest with a look of confusion and fascination plastered across her face. She then passed it off to Vergil, the oldest Son of Sparda clearly displeased that such an instrument had found itself embedded into one of his children. Nero gritted his teeth at the sight of the blade, more than happy to pass up an opportunity to get hands on with it. From what he could tell, it was quite sharp. And he was willing to bet that it had been extremely painful to have lodged inside of such a sensitive part of V’s body. It made him want to kill the cultist responsible even more than he already did.

How could someone do that to someone else?

“That blade is exceptionally old, wouldn’t you agree, Vergil?” Magnolia said as she assessed V’s neck wound with a look of sympathy on her face. How dare someone do this to her newfound companion! He was such a gentle soul.” I can’t imagine where a cult would obtain such an artifact. It seems demonic in origin, and last time I checked, there wasn’t exactly a museum they could steal this from.”

Vergil held the blade up into the light again, turning it over his hands. Yes, there was most certainly something demonic about the blade. It seemed to almost absorb the blood that it was coated in, and a quick rinse under the faucet revealed that it was actually hydrophobic aside from that. How truly fascinating. And concerning.

As the eldest of the Dark Knight Sparda’s twin sons examined the blade, Dante stepped forward and shot it a glance, his brow furrowing slightly at the sight of it up close. He grabbed it as Vergil was in the process of looking it over, giving it a quick examination, and then immediately handing it back to him before he had time to become irritated about the fact that he’d just snagged it without asking to do so first.

“Is there something you’d like to add, Dante?” Vergil inquired almost sarcastically, his arms folded. He placed the dagger down on the counter, now finished with his studies. There was nothing more he could glean from it, at least not without further context and reference materials. That could be a problem. But right now, they had a list of those longer than Magnolia’s house was tall. And as soon as V recovered from his injuries, they needed to start addressing them. If the cultists had been telling the truth, then they had much bigger problems than a few deranged summoners having meet and greets in the wilderness outside of a derelict city. Belial was an especially unkind demon, the likes of which even the demon emperor Mundus didn’t enjoy interacting with. As demon princes, they were both constantly vying for power, but Belial was nothing like his king. No, he was much more cunning. Much more covert in his operations. Much more intelligent. His ruthless machinations knew no bounds, and anyone who stood between him and his goals tended to suffer immensely for their insubordination. And from what he could tell, the dark prince seemed to have a goal in mind. V.

How unfortunate for Belial.

“Actually, I do.” Dante said as he leaned against the back wall. Nero shot him a curious look. A situation where Dante knew something about the Underworld that Vergil didn’t? Now what was a rare thing to behold.” I’ve seen this thing before. It was about ten years ago now.” 

Vergil waved him on as if to tell him to continue while Magnolia tended to V’s injuries to the best of her abilities. Things had suddenly become much more interesting. “How can you be so sure?

Dante sighed, glancing over at V as the young summoner shifted in discomfort. It was at times like this that he was exceedingly glad he healed so quickly from injuries. The prospect of having something stuffed into such a raw wound to help stop the bleeding wasn’t favorable to him. “Because I helped kill the guy who stole it in the first place, Vergil. He was going to use it to unleash some demon named Argosax, so this secret order of supposedly part demon guardians that… You know, I still don’t know what they really do?” Dante scratched the back of his ear, genuinely trying to remember and failing miserably at it. He’d honestly never really asked or paid that much attention in the first place.” My point is that they guard these things called Arcana, and that’s one of them. I gave them back to a friend of mine there and left it alone. Wasn’t trying to get wrapped up any further into whatever dad did with them way back when. They’d probably like that back.”

The oldest Son of Sparda stared at his younger twin blankly, clearly taken aback by this revelation, and not hiding it nearly as well as he probably would have liked. Vergil took a moment to compose himself before speaking, not at all used to being so far out of his depth.”... You found a secret order composed of others that are similar to us that were aligned with our father and never thought that mentioning that might be a good idea?” Vergil said gesturing firmly with both hands as though he were contemplating strangling the life out of his younger twin then and there.” Do you have any idea how long I searched for something like-”

Magnolia sighed, catching their attention. “Fight about that on the way over there, dears. You should go see them about this. Blades like that can sometimes be sacrosanct and cursed. Between that and whatever this fluid is that V is covered in, an order of guardian warrior priests might be just what the doctor ordered.” The alchemist brushed her hair out of the way and reached for the shower faucet, fully intending to try and remove said liquid off of her hapless patent.” This doctor, that is. Well, this Apothecary. I can’t claim the title. My point is that I’m doing everything I can, but I can’t account for that kind of magical interference.”

Nero nodded in agreement. “She’s got a point. We should probably do that. It’s their knife, right? Maybe they could tell us what’s going on with this cult and why they’d need it?”

As the three of them considered this, V practically jumped out of his skin in response to being sprayed with cold water from Magnolia’s shower. He bumped his head against the wall, shooting her a weary and perplexed look as if to ask her why she would do something like that to him. Magnolia gave his right shoulder a soft pat and ruffled his now damp hair, causing the not quite closed cut in his head to sting. There were so many individual parts of his body that hurt that it was genuinely hard for his brain to wrap itself around them.” I do enjoy traveling. And maybe this time there will be less cult activity since their leader fell into that conduit.”

Magnolia visibly paled. “Wait, is that what you're covered in?! They had access to a conduit and a ritual blade?!” She looked startled as she doused V with yet another layer of water.” That makes things considerably worse, all things considered. I can only imagine what they would have done should they have succeeded in finishing whatever sinister ritual they were obviously working on!”

Vergil nodded in agreement. The very thought of it was… unpleasant. “Especially considering the fact that we now know that Belial is in league with them. Nothing good ever comes from any dealings with him.”

The middle aged alchemist stared at her longtime friend for a moment, a look of blank horror on her face as she shut off the water.” … Belial? Oh, how I wish you were just joshing. Why couldn’t you have a sense of humor so that I didn’t always have to take you so seriously?!”

Dante scoffed at her statement. 

He asked himself that same question every day.

With a shaky sigh, V turned to face the rest of them, nowhere near foolish enough to attempt standing given his current state. “I can only assume that was the demon who spoke to the cult leader before I…” V stopped dead in his tracks, his brain suddenly ceasing all function. He’d completely disregarded the gravity of what he’d done down in those caves.” Oh, that’s right. I may have done something I wasn’t aware I was capable of doing.”

Dante and Vergil both shot one another a curious look before turning their attention back towards V. Nero looked several shades more baffled than they did somehow. Magnolia simply looked at all four of them like she was about to commit murder if it was anything else bad. “Yes, we felt that. To be honest, I was doubtful that you were physically capable of triggering in the first place. Color me surprised.”

Nero decided to disregard Vergil’s pathetic attempt at humor in favor of staring at V like he’d grown a second head. That had been the energy he’d recognized when they were down there! It had reminded him of that day in the laboratory underneath Fortuna Castle when Agnus had nearly ended his life. Had V’s injuries triggered something similar within him? And if so, why hadn’t he recovered from his injuries yet? Did it have something to do with that blade, or was what had happened to him a one off in of itself? Nero had no idea how Dante or Vergil had managed to transform for the first time. And now that he knew that V was capable of doing so, he was genuinely irritated that he’d missed the opportunity to see him do that for the first time himself.

V gave the three of them an incredulous look. He wasn’t entirely sure how to process everything that had happened that evening. It all seemed surreal and painful in a way he was not equipped to deal with. All V wanted to do was rest at that point and recover from his injuries. He had a sneaking suspicion that he might undergo the same sort of rapid regeneration that he’d benefited from the last time he’d been hurt and gone to sleep. At the very least he wanted to know if that was the case.

Dante laughed slightly.” Yea I bet that was a rush. That cultists probably had no idea what hit em’. Kinda mad I didn’t get to see the look on his face now. But at least he’s probably dead, right?”

V gave his uncle a vapid look. Probably? “Do you think he could’ve survived something like that?”

The youngest Son of Sparda shrugged. “Can’t say. Don’t know much about how those things work. Brother?”

All they received in response was a shrug from Vergil. He himself wasn’t entirely sure. Conduits were relatively rare, and the one they had just visited had been utterly decimated by V’s attack. Still, he would look into it. V didn’t need to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder in anticipation for yet another stabbing. That had to be bad for his mental state. “I cannot say. Although I am curious as to how you heard Belial speak in the first place on account of how he has no mouth.”

The young summoner blinked in surprise, wracking his brain in an attempt to try and figure that out for himself. Had that been inside of his head? Was it an unwanted side effect of being so close to a conduit? V could only speculate. And the severe amount of exhaustion and pain that he was currently suffering from didn’t help very much in that regard. “... I do not know.”

Magnolia shook her head and gestured towards the door nearest to the living room. “For now, let’s not trouble him about it. He needs to rest while I tend to the rest of his injuries. Don’t make me spray you with this. Because I will.”

Vergil raised an eyebrow, intrigued as to why she thought he’d back down from such an empty threat. “Yes, Magnolia. Because water is such-”

Without warning she switched the sprayer back on, hitting Vergil dead in the face. The look of genuine shock and confusion that crossed his face in response to her actions was truly something. Dante ducked out of the way, not eager to be soaked as he scurried down the hallway like a kicked puppy. Vergil backed off, staring daggers at his longtime friend as he did so. He would find a way to get her back for that one.

For his part, Nero simply laughed at them both while V shook his head in exhausted disbelief. The short haired devil hunter turned to his brother and extended his hand, more than willing to help him up. After all the blood he’d gotten on himself from helping V, he could use a shower himself. “Need some help, V?”

V looked up at him, genuinely unable to find the strength to move even a finger. A small, appreciative smile crossed his face as he blinked slowly in response to his younger sibling’s generous offer. “Yes. That would be advisable.”

(-~-)

This was such a fun chapter to write the dialogue for! OMG! Here’s a link to the art that inspired my idea of what V’s DT looks like in this fic. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it! Go check them out! I’m sure you’d love their DMC art! Don’t worry, I asked first! They are super nice! See you in the comment section!

https://twitter.com/AsaderiChan/status/1112822343380975618

[jungnoir]

funny habits;

⇢ summary:  "You’re my new neighbour and wow man, you have some really weird habits."  ⇢ this wasn’t what you were expecting to find out over an exchange of homemade cookies. for this request from this prompt list.

⇢ relationship: chae hyungwon/reader.

⇢ genre: cat hybrid!au, supernatural, fluff.

⇢ words: 3.9k

⇢ warnings: prehensile tails. cat hybrids.

a/n: I really wanted to try my hand at a hybrid au at least once in my life, and this prompt screamed something cute so~ originally this was a drabble request but then i almost hit like 4k so!!!

You really liked living in the apartment at the end of the hall. Ever since you’d moved to the not-so-shabby complex in the middle of your college career, you had found it funny that not once had anyone occupied the only apartment next to yours. You had been living in that very building since you were nineteen years old, and here you were now at the ripe age of twenty-three, still enjoying that almost impossible luxury. Your rent wasn’t terrible, your neighbors across the hall were quiet, and you could be as loud as you wanted without fearing the tenant next door would hear. It came in handy some nights, when you lost yourself in a marathon of nostalgic music or “ooh”’d and “aw”’d watching Your Name for the hundredth time. You never got noise complaints from anyone else on the floor anyway.

Of course, all of this had to change sooner or later, and it seemed it would be the former when you awoke to something thudding against the wall adjacent to your bed, the thudding continuing long until you’d been roused out of your fitful sleep and into a grouchy mood. At first, you had wondered if the sound was misplaced and instead coming from the hallway, but there was no denying that there was someone in the room on the other side of your wall, and your grouchiness melted into a dramatic panic. Someone couldn’t possibly be moving in, could they?

Pulling on the nearest sweater and pair of pokemon slippers by your bed, you were furiously raking a brush through your hair to make yourself look at least a little less like you’d just woken up before you were out your front door. Your fingers twiddling, you took in the scene to the left of your door, and it seemed all your worst nightmares had somehow decided to come true. There were boxes upon boxes littering the hallway, and you watched as uniformed men took each box and more pieces of miscellaneous furniture through the door to the apartment next door, blissfully unaware of your heart dropping into your stomach when you realized you definitely weren’t still dreaming, and this stuff was definitely still happening.

Before you could even fathom a coherent thought, something tall and lithe began slinking its way toward you, only becoming noticed by you when you heard someone clear their throat.

Oh. Huh. Was it bad you weren’t nearly as opposed to the events happening loudly behind you anymore?

There stood a man, definitely not a mover by the looks of it, with eyes droopy that stared at you with curiosity. His tall stature easily towered over you, but you noticed he was still hunched, and you could only imagine how he might look if you stood him up against a board of wood or something. Aside from his height, he had wispy auburn hair that curled around his head just right, stopping halfway at his ears and adorably looking like it needed a cut, but not so much in an unattractive way like it might’ve looked like on someone else. His whole aura was exuding an alluring appeal, and that wasn’t even including the fact that in the face... he was drop dead gorgeous.

“Ah, morning,” the man started in a groggy voice, sounding very much like he had just woken up, even dressed and styled to the nines in a draping black trench coat that just barely revealed a black sweater and skinny jeans underneath, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to introduce ourselves until a little later, but I guess they woke you up.” 

Nodding slowly, the man smiles sheepishly, and you swear your breath is stolen for a cliche moment. “I heard no one’s lived next door to you for the last few years. I hope you weren’t too fond of that fact before.” 

The stubborn girl in you wanted to say yes, I was very fond of that fact thank you, you sleep killer, but you also felt that’d be a pretty horrible way to start off your reluctant neighboring, so you decided instead to shrug and give a half-hearted laugh, “Not at all.” You lied between your teeth.

“I promise I won’t be a bother. I mainly sleep all day, and when I do sleep, I sleep like a rock. I’m sure you could be as loud as you want and I wouldn't hear a thing.” He swears, and part of heartbroken you nearly rejoices at the thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a neighbor, or at least this kind of neighbor. 

“I swear I’m not usually loud anyway,” you lie once more, “definitely not a night owl.” “I’m not very good friends with birds anyway.” He answers back quickly, and then pauses as if he’s said something so utterly stupid in his own mind that he can’t believe it. You laugh anyway, though a little confused rather than amused. 

“Too loud? Chirpy?” You offer, watching him shuffle a bit in place.

He offers back a small smile, thankful you at least found something of a joke in his words, “Just... I prefer those creatures for food purposes only.” 

Before you can share your opinion, a mover walks up behind the stranger and asks for him to point out where he’d like his couch to be placed, and he’s quickly turning to you with a remorseful look, “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice meeting you...” He holds out, letting the mover guide him back to his front door.

“(Y/N)! And you?” You call, catching a glimpse of his hair shuffling a bit on the top of his head. 

You think it’s a brush of air from inside his apartment, or maybe just your eyes playing with you, but your attention is dragged back to his face when he smiles and calls back, in an equally loud enough voice, “Chae Hyungwon!” 

Moments later, he’s inside his home, and you’re staring after where he once was, a peculiar feeling bubbling in your chest. You’re not sure what intrigues you about the odd handsome man, even when you head back inside to enjoy the rest of your Saturday morning watching cartoons and listening to the voices on the other side of the wall. By the time dinner rolls around, it has settled down and you barely hear a peep from next door, and you think maybe, just maybe, Hyungwon wasn’t kidding about being a quiet person.

You’re in the middle of chopping celery at the stove, a pot of boiling stew’s scent making your stomach growl in want. You're moments from dropping the chopped green veggies into the soup when the news alert comes on TV, the bright and lovely weather woman greeting you and the rest of Seoul with her usually cheery demeanor. Her voice filters like honey through the speakers of your TV, and you listen passively as you begin to stir your dinner. 

“...The city enjoyed nice and quite hot weather today with a high of 35C. For all of you who stayed indoors today, it might not have looked it, but it was quite the scorcher...”

Your stirring gradually slows until your hand comes to a full stop mid air, hand hovering with your ladle surrounded in a pool of tasty smelling beef and potato stew. Looking over your shoulder and toward the TV in the living room, you find that, truly, there were the numbers “35” in large, bold print on the side of the screen right next to the weather woman.

The only thing running through your mind is why your new next door neighbor was wearing a thick, black trench coat in the middle of scorching hot weather like it was any other winter day.

The second time you see Hyungwon, it’s been three weeks since he moved in.

You find it odd that not once had you been able to see your new neighbor, no matter how often you stayed in on the weekends or how early you left for work on the weekdays. You never caught glances, just heard the door next to you opening and closing, and even with the all the speed you possessed in your body, you were never fast enough to even glimpse the sleepy looking neighbor. The most you’d caught was the tail end of his trench coat, something you were still itching to ask about to this day.

It was only one particularly hot Saturday that you had finally worked up the courage to face your neighbor head on, your curiosity having bested you into making an absurd amount of cookies - all for the purpose of having a good reason to ring his doorbell.

So here you were, standing with your best piece (read: only piece) of china stuffed full with as many chocolate chip goodies as possible, saran-wrapped and picture perfect in front of your neighbor’s door. 

You’re quietly rehearsing exactly what you want to say to him besides “I made some cookies! partly because I’m worried you don’t leave your house often enough to get food and also because I’m a nice neighbor!” when a cold breeze brushes your exposed ankles, and when you look from the cookies and up to the door before you, you see it’s cracked a smidgen, allowing a lone brown eye to peek out at you from the darkness of the apartment. You blink, holding the plate that much tighter, and try to swallow the lump in your throat when the eye doesn’t leave your form for a second. 

“Can I help you?” Hyungwon’s gravelly voice asks you from the dark, and you start to wonder if maybe you’ve roused him from sleep. He had said that’s usually what he does all day anyway. 

Instead of feeling bad, you hold the cookies out and put on your best smile, “I accidentally made too many cookies and thought you might like some. Can I come in?”

You can hear Hyungwon suck in a breath, like he’s seriously debating whether or not to let you come inside, and your suspicions start to gather and pile. You had already been feeling a bit iffy about a neighbor that supposedly slept all day everyday, and his elusive tendencies had begun to make your assumptions grow and grow, and now he couldn’t even simply say “now’s not a good time”?

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he abruptly pulls the door open, revealing himself dressed in a pair of baggy black sweats and a cream sweater, one shoulder of it hanging off and exposing his sharp collarbone underneath. His hair is a mess, obviously bedhead, and his expression is nothing if not sleep-angry, but he still steps back and allows you space to move into his nearly pitch black apartment, and you move forward before your mind can tell you to simply leave the cookies and your curiosity at his front door.

When you’re a good few steps inside, the door closes, and you’re encased completely in darkness. 

“Uh, H-Hyungwon?” You ask into the darkness, cursing the fact that you could barely see a foot in front of you. Your grip on the plate tightens all the more. 

“Mm.” He hums from somewhere to the right of you, a good enough distance away not to make you panic, but you still couldn’t keep track of his whereabouts for your life. In your apartment, every step you took made a definite sound. If a burglar broke in through the kitchen, you’d know before they even passed the fridge. Yet, here, Hyungwon’s steps were miniscule, almost nonexistent, almost cat-like.

“I can’t really see... can you turn on a light or... open a curtain? I mean, it’s noon.” You laugh nervously. Your palms begin to sweat and you’re sure even those with 20/20 vision couldn’t navigate their way around a place this dark and not bump into something at least once. 

 A sigh fills the room, a little closer than you expect, and then the room floods with lamp light. 

For... whatever reason, your eyes are focused on a spot where something long, skinny, and furry wags its way behind Hyungwon’s back, the boy poised over a lamp a few steps away from where you stood in front of his couch. You let out a sudden yelp at the sight and the cookies go flying, your hands losing grip of the plate from your sweaty hold.

It happens at the speed of light, far too quick for you to comprehend even with Hyungwon being so close by. One second your cookies are falling to the floor and you’re falling backwards, and the next, you and the cookies are stopped mid-air.

Hyungwon’s appeared before you with a soft huff of effort, arm wrapped securely around your back and holding you as close to his front as possible in fear you might fall and hit your head on the wood floor below. His eyes are wide with surprise and fear, and in the moment, you swear your mind is playing tricks on you because Hyungwon’s pupils look way different than they had the day you’d first met him and even when he had opened the door to let you in. What once were warm, brown, human eyes were now bright green (almost glowing?), and his pupils were practically slits as they focused in on your surprised expression. The longer you looked into those green eyes, the pupils evened out once more, and the green irises darkened until they were the brown you remembered. On top of his head, between the mess of strands, you swore you could see two very small, cat-shaped ears poking out from underneath, twitching this way and that as you caught your breath.

If that didn’t freak you out, the fucking tail balancing your plate of cookies behind Hyungwon’s back sure did.

With another squeal, you push yourself away from Hyungwon, his arm retracting without a fuss, even if the panicked expression he wore spoke volumes. You took the quickest strides you could to get to the front door, shooting Hyungwon (and that tail!) one more terrified look before slipping out of the apartment and slamming the door behind you. 

For the rest of the day, you could feel the ghost of Hyungwon’s arm around your hips, mind unable to shake the look of those feline eyes no matter what you did.

The next time you see Hyungwon, you’ve accepted that maybe, somehow, you had hallucinated the tail.

He’s ditched his trench coat when you catch him uncharacteristically before he can disappear from sight one day. He still dresses loosely, with baggy sweats like the ones he wore that day, but he’s traded in his sweater for a white tee, and he looks pretty normal from where you’re standing, keys clutched in hand, coming home from work a little late.

He stands in his doorway as if he’s waiting for you, eyes finding yours the moment you’ve exposed yourself down the hall. He doesn’t move from his spot leaning against his doorframe, just watches you with a lazy look as you tentatively make your way toward him. The window at the end of the hall lets in the orange, fading light of the sun, and it makes the tawny hair on his head look red as you approach. It looks so soft, so... familiar. 

Images of the tail flash through your mind again, and you shake your head to rid yourself of them. 

When you’re within reaching distance, eyes locked with his for the majority of your journey to your door, he smiles minutely and speaks, “Coming home awfully late.”

“You know when I come home?” You don’t hide the suspicion in your voice when you ask, much too concerned with trying to locate that certain odd appendage of his, if it was around anywhere.

Hyungwon shrugs, “I have good hearing when I’m awake. I just so happen to hear you rustling around next door at five everyday, so I’ve come to memorize your schedule.” 

“Is that how you manage to avoid me?” “Partly.” He doesn’t even try to lie, lips pursed with a look that tells you he’s only a little sorry, and that little bit isn’t enough to be satisfied with. 

“If it makes you feel better,” he says, “I avoid everyone in the complex. Comes with being a hybrid.”

His admission halts any of your doubt and leaves you staring wide-eyed at him, mind somewhere between “oh shit” and “I told you so”. Hyungwon seems to notice too, because he politely smiles just as something moves behind him, something under his shirt lifting the fabric even as his arms lay still at his sides. The familiar auburn colored tail sneaks its way out from behind his back and bends as if waving at you in its own way, and his ears follow suit from underneath his hair, curling in your direction. The fact that you’re seeing both again, clear as day, makes you instinctively reach out to touch, and surprisingly his tail meets you halfway, brushing just along your palm before retracting. 

The fur around it reminds you of the cat you’d had back in high school, only much softer than her fur had been. When you look back at Hyungwon, his smile is still there, but it’s more timid than before. Almost... worried. “You’re a... cat hybrid. I didn’t know such thin- people existed.” 

Hyungwon raises an eyebrow at you, “We’re usually pretty good at keeping it a secret. Unless we’re startled out of our concentration to conceal our hybrid sides. What you see everyday... if I concentrate hard enough on it, I can look like a human, like I would if the other side of me didn’t exist.” He says, and as he speaks, his eyes casually shift from brown to green, green to brown, the pupils changing shape and size with every other word, hypnotizing you with the beauty of it. “But unlike other hybrids, I’ve never been quite good at hiding the bigger things, like my tail. Which is why-”

“-the trench coats,” you finish, “...I don’t know what to say Hyungwon... if you guys keep it a secret, why did you let me into your house that day?” 

At this, Hyungwon laughs a bit, shyly looking away from you, “Ah... to be honest, I wasn’t going to let you in... but I’m a sucker for sweets.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, you think to yourself, he’s adorable.

“I’m not gonna lie, if all it takes to diffuse your resolve is sweets, I’m going to be very concerned for you from now on.” You tell him, biting your lip to hide your blooming smile. You fail, royally. 

The cat hybrid hums and his bare foot brushes against the floor back and forth, eyes flickering up to meet yours, the brown fading some as he looked at you, “You’re gonna worry for me? I hope that means you like me, then.”

You quickly turn to hide your face in the crook of your elbow, feigning rubbing your nose as you blame the heat outside for making your cheeks so warm because no, of course not, he’s not making you blush. There’s... there’s no way, right?

A simple touch of your hand to your burning cheek silences your thoughts very quickly.

“I don’t dislike you. I can promise you that.” You say once you’ve regained some composure.

The boy looks at you from underneath his lashes for a few moments before pushing himself off the doorframe (and you try to ignore the attraction you feel when his tall form looms over you, swaying side to side like a sleepy cat. Heh, things made sense now), “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t tried to rip my tail from my body or ran away screaming again yet. That’s usually the general reaction in my case.”

You can see in his eyes, though he tries to hide the gaze with hooded eyelids, that not only had those things happened before, but they hadn’t been painless experiences either. You wonder if maybe the reason he pulled his tail from your grasp so quickly was in fear of the former thing. If so, your heart aches to think about it.

Instead, you close your hands behind your back and sigh, “I don’t think it has hit me yet. Maybe because I’ve had a nine hour work day and missed lunch just to make it home now and not later.”

Hyunwon’s eyebrows knit together in quiet concern, “Uh, fuck, you should go eat. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

“S’alright. I’m actually glad I got to talk to you. My curiosity was killing me-” Your stomach growls mid-sentence and you look down in embarrassment, hand reaching to your stomach as if it would quiet it down somehow. Hyungwon looks you over before gently raising a hand and guiding you toward your apartment door. His push isn’t the only thing; your stomach is calling for sustenance, preferably a frozen pizza in the oven and a bag of potato chips to hold you over while you waited. Your stomach grumbles again at the thought.

“See you, (Y/N).” Hyungwon tells your tired form, your hands already taking out your keys to unlock your apartment door based off muscle memory.

You wave a sluggish hand to him and slip inside, the need for food seeming a priority above all else in the end.

That night, when you’re laying full and in bed, your mind is playing different fantasies over for you, tempting you with what exactly you’ll dream about next. A tail appears in your memory. Your eyes shoot open the same time you utter into the quiet night, “Holy shit.”

Your doorbell rings bright and early the next day, waking you rudely from your well enjoyed weekend sleep-in. Your body is tangled in sheets that provide you little warmth, but you cling to them desperately as the coolness of your apartment settles into your sleepy bones. All you want to do is rest a little longer, but knowing full well a little longer would turn into hours longer, and whoever or whatever was at your door this early would surely be here this early because it was important... right?

Ugh. Screw adulthood and having to get the door.

Tiredly, you drag yourself from bed to slip on your Gengar slippers, rubbing at the sand in your eyes to make your vision at least a little better. You follow the familiar path out of your room and down the hall, taking the turns around your furniture with half closed eyes, expertly avoiding knocking your shin into your coffee table (it had happened many a time before. never got less painful) as you pass it. 

You peek an eye out through the peephole, finding no one standing outside or anywhere near your door. You sleepily try to think of what you’d ordered off Amazon within the last week or so, but nothing comes to your memory. You hope to God something is there at least, because if some kid in your building was playing ding dong ditch at eight in the morning, you were going to have some serious problems. 

You lazily unlock the front door and peer outside, only to blank at what lays on the floor before you. It takes you a few moments to recognize the pearly gleam of the plate, washed to perfection with a small white paper folded on top of it. Suddenly very awake, you crouch and scoop up your china, picking the paper up and flipping it open to read the dark chicken scrawl inside.

- the cookies were great. call me next time you make another batch :)

And scribbled underneath Hyungwon’s note is his number, the realization igniting that familiar curiosity related to the cat hybrid boy all over again.

[sian265]

Legio autem Arcarius Legion of Archer Chapter 10

Alec had no idea how appealing he was all rumpled and sleepy-eyed as he stumbled out of the guest room in search of coffee. Magnus hid his smile at the soft fluffiness of Alec’s bed head and the adorableness of his half-closed eyes. The Commander only grunted when greeted with ‘good mornings’ by his archers. They seemed well use to their Commander’s lack of coherent language first thing in the mornings. Magnus took pity and poured Alec a large mug of coffee, saying nothing as he placed it in front of Alec. Several moments and sips passed before clearer hazel eyes lifted from the mug to observe everyone gathered at the table.

 Clearing his throat, Alec thanked Magnus first before turning to his second. “Underhill, send a fire message to Alicante, tell Theo to send us reinforcements. I hate to leave the Legion so short in Alicante, but tell him if the Consul has any new missions to message us and we can send some archers back.”

 Andrew nodded and laying aside his napkin, rose. “Right away Commander.”

 Alec then turned his attention to Magnus, somewhat shyly meeting the Warlock’s gaze after their kiss the night before. “Good morning,” he whispered intimately.

 Magnus smiled softly and patted Alec’s hand. “Good morning indeed, Alexander. Did you sleep well?”

Feeling brave, and past caring what others thought of him, Alec reached over and took Magnus’ hand, holding it firmly atop the table for all to see if they cared to. “I did thank you, and you?”

 “I did, wonderfully, and with the most pleasant of dreams.” Magnus’ smile grew at the sight of their entwined hands. “What’s on the agenda for today, Alexander?” Alec let out a sigh and Magnus regretted bringing up their mission and spoiling the moment.

 Reluctantly Alec pulled his hand free, but not before giving Magnus’ fingers a gentle squeeze. He spent the next several minutes filling Magnus in on his meeting with the Seelie Queen and what she had told him about the cult’s activities. “Once reinforcements arrive I need to debrief them. I am assuming I cannot talk you out of this party?” At Magnus’ nod, Alec continued. “Then we need to plan.”

 Magnus reluctantly agreed. “I am sorry Alexander for all the additional security concerns but this is the best plan for drawing out our cult leaders. Especially given that, they have been seeking information about me all over town. Given the opportunity to come face to face with the object of their inquires will prove too great a temptation. They will take the bait.”

 “Perhaps so, but you know that neither I nor the Consul approve of you using yourself as bait!” Alec could not help that his voice rose; he had a gut feeling that this party was a bad idea. However, he was also quickly coming to realize that Magnus was extremely stubborn. Alec could feel his frustration level climb; Magnus was making it almost impossible for Alec to protect him! He threw his napkin down in disgust and started to rise from his chair, but was halted as Magnus grabbed both of Alec’s hands in a tight grip.

 “I am sorry, Alexander.” Magnus squeezed Alec’s hands roughly. “But I cannot sit back while more mundane and Seelie’s are murdered. I will not hide behind the Legion! These fools think to resurrect some nonsense cult that was begun as a joke! All to what? Summon my father so he can reward them? They are fools and if they were not murdering innocents then I would let the idiots raise my father and then they would truly learn about pain!” Magnus took a deep breath and lightened his hold on Alec.

 Alec sat silent for several minutes; he did not pull his hands away again from Magnus. To allow their target to deliberately place themselves in harm’s way went against every code of the Legion. That it was also Magnus… this left Alec panicking, something he was definitely not used to doing! He knew what his only option was. “Then we plan, since you are set on this course, we plan until there are absolutely no holes anywhere!”

 Perhaps it was because their emotions were running high, or maybe because Alec had been so bold as to first take Magnus’ hands, for whatever reason, when Magnus leaned over, lips posed, Alec met him. Their kiss so out in the open was too brief for anyone to get used to, and if his archers hadn’t been looking at them, they would have missed it. Underhill say it, and with a smile, he quickly turned away, waving away those few gawking Legion who stared open-mouths at their usually stern Commander. Both Alec and Magnus paid them no mind at all, completely caught up in each other.

 Magnus magically cleaned up after their breakfast, then retreated to his study to send out his fire message invites, fully expecting to receive 100% RSVP’s. Alec returned to his guest room to shower and dress for the day. He wanted to do something, but the more logical part of his brain kept preventing him from even considering it. Alec really wanted to ask Magnus out on a real date. But he couldn’t, could he? This was a mission. Magnus was in real deadly danger! Right? All through his shower and the redundant task of dressing, Alec’s mind wrestled with his desires and his duty. He wanted to sit down with Magnus, just the two of them. Sit in some restaurant with candles, that sounded romantic to him. He wanted to eat a meal, just the two of them. He wanted to ask Magnus if they could date, exclusively. And he knew he could easily and smartly wait until all this was over, but Alec was tired of waiting for his life to start. For the first time, he wanted to put his wishes first, not his duty or responsibilities. However as he finished dressing and tried to settle his hair somewhat, Alec sadly admitted to himself, he wouldn’t give in. His mission was to important and would have to come first, for now.

 Since Magnus occupied his study, Alec and Underhill took over the dining room table. A quick internet search got them the whole buildings plans and they poured over every corner, leaving no area unscrutinized. The apartment layout got broken down and personal assigned to their stations for the party. As they went over their plans repeatedly, Alec had the nagging thought that they were forgetting something vital. As they began clearing away their plans, Alec was hit with what they had missed and his eyes widened in horror as he turned to Underhill. “The wards will be down,” he whispered in shock.

 Andrew’s own eyes grew big and his face paled. Alec coughed to clear his throat before calling out. “Magnus,” when the High Warlock stuck his head out of his study door, Alec asked. “Are the wards going to be down for the party?”

 Magnus frowned and nodded. “Of course, Alexander. How else are my guest to get in?”

 Alec weakly waved a hand for Magnus to return to what he was doing. Once the study door was closed, he ran a hand aggressively through his hair and turned to look at his second. “Of course he says!” Alec mocked, rolling his eyes as Underhill coughed to cover his laughter. That laugh quickly turned to a groan as Alec began putting their papers and plans back out all over the table. Alec grinned a little evilly and waved a hand for Andrew to rejoin him. “Let’s start over,” he said and matched Underhill’s groan with one of his own.

 Finally, after several more hours of rehashing the same points over and over, they agreed, there was simply no way for the Legion to cover every square inch of the building. Alec knew what he was going to have to do. “I’ll get with the New York Institute and get their Shadowhunters assigned to the party.”

 Andrew nodded. “Then if they can cover the perimeter, the Legion can remain inside for the party.”

 “I hope Magnus realizes the level of security his guests are going to be subject to.” Alec leaned back as he spoke and stretched his arms above his head, working out the kinks that came from sitting to long hunched over. “Because the wards will be down, the Legion are going to have to sweep a room every time someone goes in and out.”

 Underhill tossed the papers he was reading aside. “It’s going to be a logistical nightmare.”

 They both were tired of looking at floor plans and list of Legion personal. Alec finally reached over and started gathering the plans. “Let’s call it a night for now, it’s almost dinner time and you need to gather the Legion and go over what we have decided.”

 Underhill agreed and they both went their separate ways. Andrew to debrief the archers and Alec to check in on Magnus. When Alec entered Magnus’ study, he found it empty of the High Warlock. Looking around at all, the collections of books and bottles of only the Angel’s knew what, Alec spied a note with his name scrolled across the top. ‘Alexander,’ it read, “I hope this is not presumptuous but I was hoping that you would join me for dinner? Tonight, seven sharp on the balcony. Magnus.’  Seems he and Magnus had the same thought, though Alec did wish it were some fancy restaurant away from all the danger and missions. Looked like he had a date to get ready for, Alec smiled.

 He did not have much in the way of date clothes, having nothing more than his normal tac pants to wear, though he did pair them with a soft looking grey sweater. Alec tugged at the hem of that sweater as he stepped out onto the balcony. The table was set beautifully with a white tablecloth and candles already lit. Magnus though, he took Alec’s breath away. He wore slim black pants and a crimson silk shirt; open halfway down Magnus’ chest. All that honey colored skin firmly on display. He would always swear it was the food that had Alec salivating, not the glimpses of Magnus’ skin. Alec accepted the glass of champagne Magnus handed him.

 “I wanted to take you to the coast for lobster, but well, this will have to do for now.” Magnus waved a hand across the table, blue sparks trailing off his fingertips. The spread that appeared had Alec’s stomach releasing an embarrassing grumble. The lobster had steam rising from it, and Alec could smell the fresh drawn-butter. Before he could sit, Magnus waved another hand around them and out of the corner of his eye; Alec could see a waver in the air around them. “Privacy bubble,” Magnus explained.

 Alec smiled and sat his glass down before moving around the table to pull out a chair for Magnus. Unable to resist, as Magnus sat, Alec leaned down and pressed a kiss atop the Warlock’s spiked hair. “Thank you, Magnus.” Alec whispered before moving around to his own seat. “This looks delicious.” He picked up his glass for a small sip, wrinkling his nose at the tickling the bubbles provided. “Our minds must have been in sync today.” Alec stated, laying his napkin in his lap and looking over at his dining companion.

 Magnus took a sip of his own glass before with a pleased smile started filling up their plates. “How so, Alexander?” he asked, placing a lobster tail on Alec’s plate and adding a small glass boat of butter.

 Alec tore off a piece of the lobster, and mindful of Magnus’ reminder to don’t forget the butter, moaned as he popped the succulent seafood into his mouth. Swallowing and already reaching for more, Alec answered. “I was just thinking this morning that I wanted to ask you out on a real date, but did not know how to manage that with the mission we are on.” He stared to say more, but Alec became suddenly distracted with the sight of Magnus’ lips. The butter giving them a sheen that proved too much temptation for Alec to resist. Surprising them both, Alec quickly leaned across the table and took Magnus’ lips in a hungry, possessive, kiss. The flavor of champagne and lobster only added to the addictive nature of Magnus’ lips.

 Magnus pulled back reluctantly with a gasp, Alexander literally and figuratively stealing the very air from Magnus’ lungs. He could not believe it of himself, but Magnus’ felt himself flush at such a display of raw passion and want from his archer. He kept his face close to Alec’s, not moving back. “You continue to surprise me Alexander.” Magnus whispered.

 The smile that spread across Alec’s lips was that of a man confident in his ability to stir the man across from him. All in all, Alec looked quite pleased with himself. “In good ways, I hope?” he asked, grin firmly in place at the flush that appeared across Magnus’ cheeks.

 Magnus could not do anything but laugh. He leaned back in his chair and looked upon Alec with a depth of emotion in his eyes that stirred Alec’s own heart. “Most assuredly, Alexander.”

 The smile Magnus gave Alec was one the archer had never seen before. Alec’s nerves settled and he sat back to bask in the magically man across from him, a man he was completely falling for…

 TBC…

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hunting Ground (Part 1)

Summary: When murders resembling those from a known serial killer start occurring in a sleepy little town, reader is called in to investigate. The prime suspect, Dean Winchester, is adamant that he’s innocent but reader isn’t so sure he hasn’t gone back to his old ways...

Teaser

Pairing: suspect!Dean x cop!reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, murder

A/N: I hope you enjoy this first part of Hunting Ground. More to come...

“If you like pina coladas, and gettin’ caught in the rain,” you sang, bopping your head along as you drove down the deserted road. “If you’re not into yoga, if have half a brain,” you said, turning the volume up louder. “If you like making love at midnight, in the dunes on the -shit!” you said, hitting the brakes as a group of deer ran out in front of you.

You took a deep breath as they stopped and stared at you, like what the fuck were you doing on their road. You honked the horn of your rental car and they took off into the woods. You saw a sign a little ways down that there was a deer crossing that made you scowl.

“You’re in the middle of fucking nowhere now, Y/N. Got to remember there’s moose and coyotes and shit out here,” you said, driving along the road again, tall trees on either side making you wonder why the Hell anyone would ever choose to come out here unless they were forced to against their will. God knew that was the only reason you were.

It was a great opportunity you were told, a stepping stone to move up the ladder more quickly. You’d practically sprinted up that fucking ladder already. You could use a moment to catch your breath if you were being honest. Technically this was completely within your job description and your capabilities. Technically you were also supposed to be on a plane headed to Hawaii for three weeks of relaxing but ya know, fucking serial killers fucking with your vacation plans. 

“Have to fucking murder that too don’t you asshole,” you muttered, rain starting to spit on your windshield. “Oh, if that isn’t fucking lovely and not some cute guy handing me alcohol with an umbrella in it.”

Clenching the steering wheel you reminded yourself to let it go and focus on the case. You spotted a sign, hoping that town was close so you could settle in and get a chance to look over your case files again.

Hunting Ground - 57 Miles

“With a name like that, no wonder a murderer moved into town,” you said, reaching for your cold cup of coffee. “Let’s just hope you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

“Oh! Hi!” said the bored out of her mind teenager when you walked into the small lobby. You glanced around at the filthy space and hid your shudder. You were definitely dousing your room in bleach.

“Hi. I need a room, not sure how long I’ll be here just yet,” you said, digging through your bag for your credit card.

“Sorry, we only take cash,” she said. Yup, sleeping in the car for the next few weeks sounded better than whatever disease you were picking up from your bed. “$50.”

“A night? That’s not too-”

“A week,” she said, you head tilting. “We haven’t had many guests lately so we dropped prices. On account of the murder.”

Maybe she shouldn’t be telling her guests that someone was killed her and they wouldn’t have a problem with retaining them. 

“Yeah, I heard about that,” you said, pulling out a hundred from your wallet and handing it over. She caught site of your badge and her eyes went wide. “I’m investigating the deaths around town. I may want to talk to you about the first victim, Cindy Parish.”

“I already talked to the cops,” she said, her cheeriness evaporating. “I told them everything I know.”

“Fine,” you said, digging your notepad from your bag. “You won’t mind telling me again then and I won’t say anything about the boy you have in that back office to the manager of this place who I suspect is your mother. How’s that sound?” you said, offering her a smile that was anything but sweet. She grabbed the door just behind her and closed it, absentmindedly fixing her shirt where it’d started to be unbuttoned by another pair of hands.

“She checked in around eight, went to Trapper’s, the local dive bar, for a drink and some food. She came back around eleven with a local, Dean Winchester, to screw is my guess. He left sometime in the middle of the night and she was found just after nine in the morning by my mom. It was...bad in there,” she said. You looked around again, realizing this seventeen year old was probably trying to run this place herself at the moment. You could try the softer approach with her.

“This guy, Dean Winchester, did you see him leave?” you asked but she shook her head.

“No. I mean...they were pretty loud. She was screaming a lot, nothing coherent. I thought they were just having sex but apparently he was killing her,” she said, shaking her head to erase the memory from her brain. “Can we stop please?”

“Sure, that’s all I need. Can you show me my room?” you asked, watching a smile on her face as she got to do something normal. She handed you the keys after guiding you outside and to the room farthest away from the one with yellow tape covering the door. Staying in the same place as your first victim wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be but at least it’d make getting to the crime scene easy.

There were two queen beds, a small TV and a beat up kitchenette but at least the bathroom was clean and there were only two weird stains on the floor. By the time you’d dragged in your bags and unpacked, you were starving. The clock said it was close to eight and after driving all day the last thing you wanted was to stare at bloody photos.

Well...there wouldn’t be any umbrella’s in the drinks but at least you knew a place to get one now. You slipped into a pair of heels but sighed. Even if they were nice and had proven to be lucky time and time again, they weren’t ideal. You never knew when you might have to chase after someone. Your hiking boots it was then. 

After three minutes of walking on the uneven sidewalk down main street you were glad for choosing to be sensible for once. Even so, you hadn’t expected to have the door held up for you by a guy in a trucker hat when you got to the bar. You thanked him but walked in to find an ocean of flannel before your eyes. You caught a few glances and you couldn’t stop the eyebrow raise from happening.

You went past and found a quiet spot at the end of the bar where you asked for a menu. There wasn’t much variety but you examined the menu like you’d forgotten how to read, hoping to catch the attention of the man sat a few seats down around the bend of the bar. But he didn’t pay you any attention. When you opened your mouth to ask him for a recommendation he stood, giving you a smile and slapping some money down, leaving before you could say a word.

“What can I get you?” asked the bartender. You ordered a burger and Jack & coke, grumbling to yourself. You’d finished it and were halfway done with your second by the time your food was ready. You ate a little too aggressively but he’d been right there. 

Dean Winchester, suspect number one. The only suspect in all of this. You knew why they’d assigned you to this case. You were just his type. A perfect temptation for the killer. Only word in a town this small would spread fast that you were a cop and there went your chance of luring him in.

At least the burger was good.

“Ugh,” you groaned, slapping away at your phone as the alarm started to go off. “No. Sleep more.”

About ten minutes later you finally dragged yourself out of bed, and into the shower, alarmed at how much hot water you had. Then again you were the only person staying there at the moment. You made a crappy cup of coffee as you walked over to your clothes, pulling on jeans and a flannel. You shoved your badge in your back pocket and your gun tucked into your pants. You were going to blend in like a local as long as possible in your opinion. Plus the excuse to get out of that black suit for once was a dream come true. 

You reviewed the case files once more while you sipped on your caffeine, letting yourself get your fix, occasionally munching on handfuls of the box of cheerios you’d packed. You weren’t the biggest fan of the reports by the Hunting Ground Police Department. Not that they weren’t good but they were assuming Dean Winchester was your killer. All signs pointed to him but you needed impartial eyes on this thing if you were going to be fully convinced that he’d done it.

Two hours later you were sitting in your car, rolling your eyes at the brick building in front of you. The whole Dean Winchester being uncooperative for follow ups was definitely not in your files. Maybe you’d try your own luck if it came to that.

“Lunch and then time to remember how to go hiking.”

You were sweating and panting by the time you got up to the cabin where the third victim was found. Why was it so fucking hot out? You thought the woods were supposed to be cooler or some shit. You took a long drink of water as you looked around. It was isolated up there, much more so than the motel. It made sense after all. The first vic the killer needed it, couldn’t wait to take them somewhere else. Cindy didn’t know it but she’d gotten off easy. The other two got half days in quiet cabins where a whole slew of skin crawling shit went down.

You breathed through your mouth as you bent through the tape and went inside. There was some dried blood in places but the boot print caught your eye. That wasn’t in the photos and hadn’t been noted as an exclusion by one of the officers. You squatted next to it and placed your own beside it. Definitely a male from the size. The tread wasn’t helpful as you hadn’t seen anyone in this town wear anything but boots but at least you had one more bit of information. Most of the evidence you’d already examined at the station and the lab reports definitely had come back negative for any DNA.

Walking around you saw the chair that had been used, the same MO as all the others. There were always copy cats but the one thing they’d never revealed to the public was the water bottle he left with the victim. The one in the room he’d trapped his victim in, allowing them a means of escape from the chair but nothing else, the water too much to resist. It sealed their fate every single time. That was when he really started his fucked up-

A gunshot rang out nearby and you drew your weapon, pointing at the door. A second one went off and you heard two mean holler about some poor animal they’d just killed. You relaxed and poked your head out the door, watching two men cut through some trees with a fox on their backs. 

You sighed and went back inside, looking over everything but not finding anything useful beyond what you already knew. Slipping your backpack on you headed back down the trail, heading back before the sun went down. You heard a fox whimper before darting out in front of you. It growled a little but you weren’t afraid. In fact you felt sorry for it as it whimpered again and took off in search of it’s friend. 

“Sorry buddy,” you said, walking a ways as the poor thing scrambled back and forth. “People suck, trust me I-”

You fell back on the ground, your bag taking most of the impact but you were on guard as you looked up and saw Dean Winchester towering over you.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, holding out a hand. You hesitated to take it and he rolled his eyes. You popped up on your own, watching his eyes wander over to the cabin and then back at you. “What are you doing out here?”

“None of your business,” you said, distancing yourself from him, all while keeping him in your sights. He scoffed and crossed his arms.

“You know that’s a crime scene right? I wouldn’t be fucking around in there if I were you,” he said. How the fuck did he know you’d been in there? Unless he was watching you of course...

“Well since I’m investigating this case, it’s probably a good idea if I check out the actual crime scene. How about you tell me what you’re doing up here,” you said, backing away from him. He nodded his head and relaxed his arms, giving you a dark smile.

“So you know all about me then, don’t you,” said Dean. He eyed you up and down but you kept your cool. He was big, bigger than you expected. If it came to it you could take him. It wouldn’t be a pretty fight though. “You’re looking at the wrong guy.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Winchester,” you said, lifting your head and cocking your head in that ‘don’t mess with me’ way. “What are you doing up here?”

“Hiking,” said Dean. “Not much to do around here except go fucking hiking ya know.”

“You always go hiking with a shotgun?” you asked, nodding at the one slung over his shoulder. Dean rolled his eyes and walked towards you. You moved to the side but Dean did his best to make sure he shoved you as he went past. “Answer the question.”

“When a psychopath is on the loose, yeah, I walk around with some protection. Want to see my permit Ranger Rick?” he asked, spinning around. “Watch yourself Officer whatever.”

“Officer Y/N Y/L/N to you,” you said, reaching your hand behind your back, trying to worm your hand between your heavy bag and to get at your gun. “Pro tip, don’t threaten cops.”

“Pro tip, sweetheart,” said Dean, walking in front of you and leaning down over you. “Don’t keep your gun somewhere you can’t get it in time. You’d be fucked if I was the asshole you’re looking for. Good thing I’m not.”

“I’d back up unless you want this to get messy, Dean,” you said, finally fishing your gun out as he backed away. 

“The more time you waste investigating me the more time he has to find his next victim,” said Dean, heading down the path away from you fast. 

“Don’t leave town Winchester,” you said, Dean giving you a wave with a angry smile before you saw him disappear into the trees.

You sighed as you looked at your gun in your hand and then all around. That could have been really fucking bad. He had a shot at you just then and didn’t take it. But the way he had looked at you...Dean Winchester was becoming more of a suspect every second in your mind. You knew he’d been the officer on the case previously but that was about it. It was time to learn what secrets that man was hiding before-

Someone was whistling. It was close but not close enough for you to tell where exactly they were. The ordinarily happy tune, apparently another fan of the pina colada song, shouldn’t have made goosebumps breakout over your hot and flush skin. Someone had to have been watching you from the way the hairs stood up on the back of your neck. You kept your gun out as you jogged down the path and in the direction of your car.

Getting back to town and out of Dean Winchester’s territory was suddenly the only thing on your mind.

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

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