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nnight-dances · 10 months ago

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SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom.

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real.

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook.

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits.

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man.

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard.

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly.

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him.

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around.

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you.

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

–

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break.

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand.

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good.

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered?

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask.

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that.

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question.

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on.

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

–

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though."

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?"

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!"

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely.

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long.

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone.

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual."

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses.

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah."

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it."

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me."

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case.

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall.

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?"

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast."

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you.

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?"

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now."

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes.

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her.

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs.

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest.

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty.

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement.

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom.

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on.

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom.

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom.

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing.

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them.

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–"

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal.

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later.

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips.

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay.

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo.

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother."

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him.

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me."

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…"

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret.

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion.

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you. but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee.

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach.

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes.

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–"

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more."

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic."

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

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jvdeiscool · 7 months ago

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hii Jude!! I remember you from my first days on Sakuverse Tumblr and I’ve loved your writings since (they make me claw at my walls (in a good way)) 🤍

can I request an Isaac x trans-male reader hurt/comfort + fluff? :]

ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ - ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ʀʜᴏᴀᴅᴇꜱ ☆

thank you sm hun <33 i do agree that the majority of isaac’s fan base is female and its really hard to find fan fics for male readers :((

i found this really easy to write considering i’m also a trans male so here you go ! :-)

he/him pronouns used and trans male! reader ❤️‍��

cw: body/gender dysmorphia

a body. a body that isn’t yours. a body that doesn’t show you.

that’s all you saw as you stared at yourself in the mirror, picking at all your flaws. you stood there with just your binder and some shorts on.

turning to the side, you ran your hands down your chest. it hurt to see how you weren’t flat. it stung. even with the binder, it still wasn’t good enough. your choppy uneven hair, your face shape, your legs. it all wasn’t boy enough.

it hurt to see isaac live his life as happy as he can be with his body. meanwhile you were stuck, stuck forever in this body. you felt tears burning through your eyes as you looked to the floor. it wasn’t fair.

tears rolled down your cheeks, a blank expression on your face as you stood and felt the pain in your chest. the burning envy to see cis males living the life you want. you hugged your arms around yourself to cover the body you beared so painfully as you sobbed into yourself. it isn’t fair. why do i have to have this bo-

a knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts. you turned to the door quickly, knowing who it was.

“pickle? are you okay?”

obviously he must of heard your sobs, he’s isaac after all.

“y-yeah just-“ you said as you sniffled and rushed to put your shirt on. “give me one second.”

you collected yourself, having a second to breathe and wipe your eyes before opening the door. isaac stood there with deep concern as you looked up at him and tried to flash a smile.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked.

that must of set something off in you as the tears started again and you put your face in your arm as you began to cry.

“oh god, come here.” he said quietly, as he urged you into his arms. you hugged him tight as he rubbed your back and shushed you. you gripped onto his shirt and sobbed into his shoulder.

“what happened?” he asked.

“i’m sorry.” you said through your sobs.

isaac sighed gently and kissed your forehead as you still had your head in his chest.

“i’ve told you before, you don’t need to apologise. what’s up?” he said as he took your face into his hands and looked at you. you averted your gaze as he wiped away your tears.

“it’s stupid..” you mumbled.

“no problem is ever stupid, pickle. come on, tell me what’s up.” he held your hands gently. stroking his thumbs over them.

“i-it’s just…bad dysphoria day, i guess? i don’t know…” you trailed off. he seemed to understand and ushered you to carry on.

“i’m not a real boy, am i isaac?”

the sudden question caught him off guard.

“course you are, y/n.” he spoke.

“look.” he says as he grabs your hands, “see these arms?” he says as he lifts up your wrist and kisses it. “so strong..” he says as he kisses your other wrist then moves his hands to your cheeks.

“and this handsome face that i fell in love with.” he kissed your forehead, then moved down to your cheeks, then your nose, then your lips. you giggled into his kiss, as this isn’t like isaac at all. he wiped your tear stains away while he kissed you. he pulled away, as he put your forehead to his and closed his eyes.

“beautiful boy..” he whispered to you. you smiled to yourself from his comment.

“if you ever feel like this again, you come to me, alright?” he says as he kisses you again.

“i will.”

HI GUYS i disappeared again oops 😟 ive been supa supa busy lately and i haven’t had motivation to write 😭

i’m so sorry this is super short i literally rushed this ill try and write a better version at some point xoxo

i hope this is okay and thank you for reading <3

- jude 🌱

#zsakuva #zsakuvafandom #zsakuvaxreader #sakuverse #isaacrhoades #isaacrhoadesxreader

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maddestmewmew · 27 days ago

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1 3 9 26 29..... White woman group+your dst

THAT IS AN INSANE AMOUNT OF CHARACTERS AND NOT EVEN ALL THE WHITE WOMEN ARE MINE okay lets do this SIGH (very excited) its going under a cut bc thats So Much so ill put the link here

LITERALLY ONLY FARTY. its martin from the magnus archives but if he sounded more feminine kind of. also i guess weveline technically bc its just eveline from resident evil

GOD. OK LETS DO THIS.

barbie has two playlists and both of them only have one song in them and its final girl by grave yard guy Both Times. and yet this doesnt match her AT ALL the real answer is "we dont want your body" by STARS.

sunny is painfully horrifically easy its the fnaf 2 song. you know the one.

FERTILIZER MY SWEET..I DONT KNOW. MAGIC 8 BALL TRY AGAIN LATER

BUNNY BELOVED AHEHAUHDUHEDUH HALF OF THE SONGS BY THE MOUNTAIN GOATS. AUDIT BY WEEVILDOING. ANY OSNG ABT DIVORCE IN GENERAL. THE CONCEPT OF DIVORCE. THE CONCEPT OF BEING A DEADBEAT DAD WHO IS A WOMAN.

god what fucking dst do i have uhh WISH.. please please please let me get what i want by the smiths

waggish is that one trollolololol song from like 2011 or some shit

weveline is "my happy ending" by kidz bop

when is "i want you" by mitski

warden is "the comfort of a laugh track" by roar

west is "kiss me you animal" by burn the ballroom

GOD THERE ARE SO FUCKING MANY UHH WHINNEAS KISS ME SON OF GOD I THINK THATS ALL OF THEM im only on question 2

URGHH SCOUT YOU ARE KILLING ME HERE.

BARBIE WORKS OUT CONSTANTLY AND SEES A DOCTOR EVERY FIVE SECONDS AND HAVING A COLD IS TORTURE FOR HER

SUNNY DOESNT ACTIVELY WORK OUT BUT SHES KIND OF RIPPED ANYWAY BECAUSE SHES ALWAYS LIFTING HEAVY OBJECTS FOR WORK AND ALSO LOVES HELPOING PEOPLE MOVE SHIT AROUND..HER ASS DOES NOT HAVE INSURANCE IF SHE BREAKS HER LEG SHES LIKE WELL. ILL HOP ON ONE FOOT

FERTILIZER WOULD BE A PILE OF TWIGS IF SHE WASNT FAT . ZERO MUSCLE. SHE DOES NOT STRETCH EITHER EVER . DOESNT GO ON WALKS . ALSO NO INSURANCE BUT IF SHE GETS A COLD SHES LIKE aouhh..im dying..

BUNNY looks you up and down. you know.

WISH was in hell for like however long and got whatever physique you get from being in hell for so long i dont nkow. but OUTSIDE of the constant/neighborhood they like doing yoga :]

WAGGISH rides horses and thats it. they ride horses. good at riding horses.

WEVELINE is like ten or some shit but shes also emo. she excersizes by playing warrior cats and swinging for 5 hours while imagining anime amvs

WARDEN is like sixteen or some shit but hes also emo. he excersizes by kicking rocks on the way to school while imagining anime amvs

WEST is a fucking camp counselor slash scout leader and insane. she likes hiking and white water rafting and Sport. whats wrong with her

WHINNEAS sits on athrone and he sits there

EASY ROUND none. for any of them. i dont think abt flowers ever in my life

ALRIGHT THIS ONE IS FUN BUT IT FEELS LAME TO DESCRIBE A BUNCH OF MOODBOARDS SO ILL JUST MAKE THEM AND POST THEM LATER MAYBE DONT COUNT ON IT

#jerkin ON #THIS SUCKED IT WAS SO FUN #GENUINELY TOOK ME ABT 45 MINUTES

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becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago

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Could you do something where maybe the team sees 0 connection between the reader and bucky cause they literally never interact but one day those 2 are taking forever from an undercover mission and everyone is like wtf where could they be? Then they find the security cameras from the place they're supposed to be and just see bucky fucking the hell out of the reader against the wall, full gown/tux and its clear they've been fuck buddiesI know this is so specific but being caught makes me s(cream)

Oh my god this made me flutter

The thought of the rest of the team getting really worried about you both just makes it even better. Like maybe the mission was risky or there was a really high chance it would go wrong and no one hears from either of you for a little longer than Steve is comfortable with.

So maybe Steve, Tony, Bruce and Nat start scouring through servers, trying to pinpoint the last CCTV match of your face or Bucky’s. All of them are a little more frantic than they’re letting on to be because they’re all pretty concerned they’re too late for a rescue mission but no one wants to say it out loud.

And imagine the little quiet “oh shit… Guys, I got them.” Tony would sigh, his eyes wide as the others scramble over to look at his screen. “This is fucking real time.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to settle his nerves.

The image on the screen makes Steve gasp and Bruce curse but none of them can bring themselves to look away. They can see you in your gown, the skirt hiked up around your waist, leaving your bare legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s pinning you to the wall with his body weight, his metal hand under your ass, his pants at his knees and he’s frantically fucking into you.

The camera can only pick up your face, given that Bucky is facing away but even the grainy, pixelated picture shows the kind of overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing

Before any of them even have a chance to speak, the sound kicks in and the room is filled with the sound of Bucky’s gruff moans and your high whines and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you? So desperate to get my cock back inside you, you’re willing to do anything. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you hadn’t gotten any in weeks. But we both know that’s not true. Fucked you good and hard just this morning.” Bucky can’t control himself, biting down on the crook of your neck, groaning as you sob from the pleasure.

“C-can’t think straight when you’re not inside me. God baby please, harder. Feels so good, I just need more.” Your fingernails claw at his broad shoulders and wide back, his upper body still encased in his tux. Your lipstick is smeared over his neck and Nat’s pretty damn sure that’s how this all started. You were playing a couple after all, you just seem to have got a little too carried away.

“God, okay, they’re safe. Turn it off.” Bruce groans in disgust, holding his blushing face in his hands.

“Oh baby, we’ve got an audience. Guess our secret’s out.” Bucky smirks, his head tilting to draw your attention to the little red flashing bulb on the CCTV camera above his head. “Go on sweetheart, give them a show. Cum nice’n hard on daddy’s big thick cock.”

Steve gasps at just how vulgar his best friend is, not able to think of anything other than how painfully erotic the sight in front of him is.

“Come on baby, let that pretty pussy lose control. Show everyone how good this fat cock makes you feel. Don’t hold back, sweetheart. No point getting camera shy.” You can practically hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice and before you know it, you’re clenching around him, groaning and whimpering, your head thrown back against the wall he has you pinned to. Bucky follows soon after, stilling inside you with a cry, pumping his release into your eager body.

Slowly, he sets you down again, both of you making yourselves presentable before he gives you a tender kiss. “See you all soon.” He smiles at the camera, placing a hand on your lower back and guiding you out to the extraction point, conscious that your legs are still trembling.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #I was at an event tonight besties #I didn’t expect to be home so late #very fun though #things becca wrote while waiting for pizza to be ready

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alatusxiaoo · 3 years ago

Text

START.

main menu. spring playlist. prologue.

chapter one, spring. (when the flowers bloom.)

featuring xiao + thoma.

youth — a crossroad where storm and stress, already weathered in motion or be.

a touch worldly-wise but still dewy-eyed, the springtime of life and we are called…

“y/n!”

youth.

in this effervescent season, our spring blooms.

the splendid flowers, warm breeze, and sweet fragrance of spring — giddy from all these…we cried, laughed and at times fought over trivial matters,

unaware that this warmth did not come equally to all.

and therefore, the cold was felt all the more bitterly, by those that it did not reach.

| ACT 1: I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE. | THOMA.

“so,” you awkwardly clear your throat, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, as you hesitantly made the brave decision to glance over to your oddly silent friend. “you never told me you liked him.”

a snort escapes seonhui’s lips, ensuing the raise of a skeptical eyebrow at your words. “does it really matter? look, just give the act up and admit that you like thoma.”

“i told you, i like xiao.” you sigh once more in exasperation, concealing your quivering fingers behind firmly folded arms. “and i can’t believe you weren’t planning on telling me that you liked thoma, had it not been for that stupid game of truth or dare.”

“what were you expecting me to do?” she grumbled beneath her breath, averting her eyes away from your disappointed ones. “you both look good together — i don’t know why you’re so foolishly insistent on claiming you like that xiao guy, who’s insolence clearly rivals his own tiny stature.”

“to be fair, he was probably only rude because you did call him tiny as fuck.” you snicker teasingly in hopes of lightening the mood — however it doesn’t do much to ease neither the uncomfortable tension, nor her guarded suspicion trained on you.

“…you think we won’t be friends anymore if you date him, huh?” seonhui mumbles in contemplation, and you slightly flinch at her undeniably accurate words. the little gesture does not go unnoticed by the girl, and all she does is shake her head at the seemingly insane notion of it. “look, i honestly don’t care either way. date thoma or not, like xiao or not — what matters is that you tell me you're not lying right now just to reassure me,” her eyes sharpen with an uncharacteristically stern gaze. “or else i'll really get mad at you.”

seonhui’s serious…you anxiously think to yourself, softly bobbing your head, despite the fact that you knew terribly well you were simply trying to accomplish the opposite to make her feel better. “it’s real. i do like him.”

the silence is painfully deafening — and it was difficult to blatantly ignore the scrutinizing stare boring holes at you, as a chill hastily scamper across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“…fine, whatever.” she eventually scoffs with a wave of her hand — a sign that she had decided to let it go…for now — and it literally takes every single fiber in you to not exhale a deep breath in utmost relief. “anyway enough about that, we should probably head back before the bell rings.”

for the rest of the day, you feel an overwhelming wave of guilt crash upon your hunched shoulders, somewhat comparable to a pesky itch that constantly tingled to make its trivial presence known. it leaves you sleepless later during the chilly evening, and paints dark circles in the spaces beneath your eyes the next day, as you begrudgingly tread your way down to the school premises while stifling a haggard yawn.

now, all you needed to do was avoid thoma to make your alibi look real…and almost right on cue, a soft flurry of taps politely rumble from over your shoulder. you turn around to be greeted by the intimate sight of none other than thoma sporting an irrefutably attractive grin, and a lollipop stick lodged between rose-colored lips. “morning, y/n!”

you’re surprised by his presence and barely manage to greet him back, when warm hands abruptly take yours within its tender possession, as he shyly presses a similar strawberry confection in your grasp. “here, maybe this will boost your energy.”

“oh, thank you.” your face flushes at the strangely affectionate gesture, as you carefully unwrap the candy before sliding it into your mouth — staring over at the boy as he bashfully denies tossed comments and rumors from schoolmates wondering if he had asked you out with the little offered lollipop.

it’s sweet — you quietly think to yourself with odd bitterness, as the flavors gradually permeate all throughout your hazy senses — too sweet.

“i think,” came your guilty and hushed voice that shifts thoma’s attention over to your avoiding gaze. “that maybe you should find someone better to tutor you.”

it doesn’t take a genius to see his expression falter slightly at your words, when you could already feel the strained air and a lump stuck at the back of your throat. “sure, um…can i at least ask why?”

| what should you tell thoma? | choices: (a) you’re presently struggling with a tight schedule, (b) you don’t want others to get the wrong idea. [NOTE, both choices result in the unlocking of a hidden route.]

| option (a), no effect [thoma] | “it’s just…i’ve just been a bit too busy lately,” your lips twist into a breezy smile while lying through gritted teeth, studying the incomprehensible countenance plastered across his defined features. “you know, with midterms coming up and all.”

“right!” thoma snaps his fingers in abrupt realization. “well, i can’t exactly refrain the top student from acing the test again.” he grins cheekily, and you blush at the generous compliment. “alright well, i’ll try not to distract you too much.”

“i’m sure you can find someone better to help you though.” you hastily reassure. “and you’re really smart too! you’ll do great on the test.”

“thanks! i’ll work hard on it.” he nods with more confidence. “i’ll see you after midterms?”

“uh…okay, yeah.” you give him one last smile before eventually slithering through the crowd of students, rendering the scenario of you meeting him again after midterms as a highly debatable matter.

| option (b), -1 affection [thoma] | “i don’t want others to get the wrong idea….about us.” you gingerly admit, anxiously digging your trembling fingers into your palms. “while i’d really like to help you out, it just makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.”

“n-no, that’s completely fine!” he exclaims hurriedly, cheeks flushing at your sudden response. “i-um…i’m sorry if you’ve felt that way.” thoma sighs in an embarrassed manner, nodding in acknowledgment at your answer. “and i suppose the others do say strange things about us…but don’t worry, i’ll try to get everyone else to drop it!” he grins with a light tilt of his head, patting your shoulder in an attempt to cheer you up. “just…make sure to focus on midterms, and leave this one to me.”

“i’m relieved you understand.” you anxiously chew on the candy, wondering if you began imagining things or the taste had bizarrely gotten sour. “anyway, you should head off first.” he smiles, giving you some space to walk through the increased crowd of students that began to swarm around the school entrance. “i’ll uh…see you soon?”

“…sure.” came your uncertain response with an awkward curve of your lips, before you slowly trudged forth into the property without daring to look back at him.

however, even after midterms had passed, you desperately tried to avoid running into him on your normal corridor routes, in the cafeteria while waiting in line, or use an excuse to head to the bathroom when you noticed thoma walking over to you. and perhaps it was rude, really — but you had to maintain the facade, or else seonhui would never let you live freely with it!

then, on a fateful afternoon — when the chirping of the birds and rustling of the leaves echoed throughout a vacated classroom, with the exemption of the unfortunately selected group of students left behind to clean the confined area for the month, everything began to change as soon as the rest had left to abandon you and xiao with the final duty of mopping around the room.

i mean, how could such a coincidence allow itself to happen? — you thought to yourself in bewilderment after two weeks of executing the declared arrangement, attentively sweeping a dusty corner behind the cabinets, before finally moving on to the last stretch of the room. you proceed to continue scrubbing forward with one last burst of energy, and soon collide with the other boy’s cleaning mop — a sign that you had both finished the last bit of work before heading home.

“we met!” you exclaim in evident jubilation, absentmindedly staring down at the mops heads connected together, while remaining oblivious to the way xiao was looking over at you. “great job today!”

“you seem like you’re in a good mood.” he suddenly remarks, and your eyes swiftly raise to meet his striking amber ones. “do i?” you timidly respond, a bit puzzled at his peculiar inquiry. “well, the weather is quite pleasant today.”

the sheer fabric of the white curtains flutter from the balmy breeze, and coruscating rays of sunlight filter through the transparent windows. beneath the rapture blue-ethers and tufty verdant thickets blistering in soaked warmth, came the effervescent season of another kind of spring — tepid and fleeting, fragrant and sweet, setting the softest hearts aflutter as it blossoms amidst sweeping daisies and dandelions.

“y/n l/n...i thought you said you liked me. ”

| YOU HAVE COMPLETED ACT 1! |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 1, THOMA’S HIDDEN ROUTE — the week before cleaning with xiao]

“can we talk now?”

you stiffen when you eventually reach the top of an exhausting flight of stairs — stumbling across thoma calmly leaning against a windowsill by a vacant corridor. “you’ve made it quite the challenge to get you alone, you know?” he teases jokingly, a lopsided grin contorting across his lips.

you’re aware there’s no backing out of this inevitable confrontation now, so you’re forced to walk forward and gingerly approach the friendly boy. “sorry about that. i’ve been preoccupied with…other things.” you swallow, before cautiously reaching his side. “it’s past dismissal though, why are you still here?”

thoma sheepishly rubs the back of his head, giving you the impression that he was somehow hesitant and unsure of how to phrase his next sentences. “i wanted to…apologize.”

apologize? you were the one who was supposed to say sorry for avoiding him, but you waited for him to finish talking instead. “well, i’ve been trying to find the right timing for a while now, so i’m sorry if it’s a bit late.” his bashful gaze darts away from you, clearing his throat with a tricky cough. “and i think i made you uncomfortable, because you know right?” you watch as his face seems to glow a light shade of pink. “that i like you.”

oh no. you can feel your heart violently thump at the sudden confession of it. “o-or i must have put more pressure on you by admitting that…” he mumbles unconsciously to himself, chastising the words that carelessly fell out of his mouth. “but what i mean is…i feel like things got awkward between us because of me. it’s been weighing on my mind ever since i noticed that you seemed to be avoiding me.”

viridescent irises flicker over to you. “although, i’d understand if you don’t want to anymore, but if it’s alright with you…can we still be friends?”

this is what i was trying to accomplish — “no, i’d really appreciate that!” you hastily respond, a wide and genuine smile twisting across your face, as you reached out to clasp his hand in an amicable manner. “thank you for saying this.” — but for some reason, i was having mixed feelings about it.

| ACT 2: OUT LIKE A LIGHT. | XIAO.

“l-like you?! me?!”you exclaim in horror, choking on your own saliva as you shriek out loud. on the other hand, xiao remains unfazed, as he raises an eyebrow over at you. “what, you’re denying it then? you were the one who admitted it by the staircase last week.” your cheeks begin to redden at the distant memory of it, and the hue worsens when the boy mimics your foolish self from back then. “you said ‘i told you, i like xiao.’, didn’t you?”

“n-no, that’s not it!” you hurriedly shake your head, coughing frantically from embarrassment knowing that he had heard you that day. “i had my…personal reasons for saying that.”

“oh? like what then?”

your legs begin to grow wobbly and you pull out one of the chairs to temporarily settle down, hesitant before eventually briefing him on the hapless crisis you’ve unintentionally found yourself entwined in. you’re not entirely certain why you’re telling him all this, and the more you ramble about these pathetic circumstances — the more you feel guilty about the fact that you’ve definitely offended him worse than seonhui did now, and that he probably couldn’t care less about the events transpiring in your life.

“what did you expect to achieve by lying?” xiao then questions once you’ve finished speaking. “you don’t care if thoma ends up dating someone else? you’d willingly back down on your feelings for your own friend?”

“ah well…if it turns out that way, i suppose so.” you muse while thoughtlessly fiddling with the frayed strands of your uniform skirt. “either way, i don’t intend on dating someone my best friend has feelings for.”

“and you think she actually believes that bullshit lie?” he scoffs in curious disbelief. “i-well..i guess she has her suspicions too, but i try to push it anyway.” you defeatedly confess, sighing as you attempted to gather your hair in a neater updo rather than have it falling across your face. “i just wish this could be resolved soon.”

“want me to help you?” xiao unexpectedly asks, and you glance at him questionably. “what? with tying my hair? i can manage.”

“no, you idiot — that wasn’t what i meant.” his features scrunch up in disgust and with confound — whereas your cheeks redden in embarrassment since you had completely misread his intentions. “t-then, what were you talking about?”

“you don’t care what thoma thinks, you just need to convince seonhui right?” he leans against the cabinet, raising an eyebrow to confirm his speculations. “convince her? yeah, sure i suppose.”

“then it’s simple.” xiao tilts his head over at you, seemingly unconcerned and almost casual with his next few words. “just go out with me.”

your hair falls from your instinctively loosened grasp, as you gawk in perplexity at his unanticipated suggestion. “…what?”

“that midget will have no choice but to believe you if we’re dating.” he placidly shrugs — and the idea is so stupid that it almost seems fail-proof and ultimately reasonable enough to go through with it. “if we say we’re dating, what can they do? and then after a while, we can say we broke up.”

“b-but why?” you blurt out of incredulity, pointing in bewilderment at him. “you couldn’t possibly like me, why are you going so far to help me?”

“well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. just think it over.” xiao merely replies, snatching the handle of his mop as he proceeds to head towards the janitor’s room to store the tool. “oh and…” he glances back over his shoulder. “the one who confesses, and the one who gets dumped when it ends, will be you.”

“what?!” oh, there is no way in hell i’d ever agree to it now!

the ludicrous proposal, however, lingers in the back of your mind for the rest of the day — despite your rationality desperately nitpicking at crumbs to refute its terribly preposterous nature. you could barely concentrate during the lessons in class, hardly recall how classes ended and you were already ambling through the rocky sidewalk, too apathetic to notice the violent efforts of seonhui flailing her limbs in your line of vision in an endeavor to garner your clearly divided attention. “y/n l/n!”

it takes a few more attempts for her to successfully achieve the objective of letting you snap out of your dazed trance, as you belatedly glance over at her with a drowsy smile. “sorry…i was overthinking something again. what were you saying?”

seonhui sighs with an agitated frown, frustratedly chewing on her lip before eventually mustering the courage to speak her mind. “i heard thoma talked to you this morning.” she soon mumbles, and you feel the surrounding air considerably tense between you and the shorter girl. you pause in your tracks and so does she — albeit standing a little further than where you had stopped on the pavement. “why did thoma do that? you both clearly like each other, so why are you still lying?”

“again, not lying.” you emphasize with a fatigued expression, swallowing your saliva and dubious with your ensuing choice of words. “you should have told me you liked him.”

“wrong.” seonhui seethed through gritted teeth, never once looking over her shoulder to glare at you. “you should have told me that you never liked him.” you quietly watch as her clutching grasp slowly tightens around her phone, and the unbearable tension begins to suffocate the both of you. “i hadn’t thought about confessing to anyone of my feelings…if only you had been clear about yours.”

seonhui likes him…a lot more than i had thought — a weighty truck of guilt rams into your crumbling sense of conscience, as you miserably gaze at her hunched figure, trying to comprehend the way she had been feeling all this time. “but i never planned of to be anything more than friends with thoma. so you…don’t have to worry.”

she finally turns over to you, and carelessly grabs your hand within her own possession. “you can get along with thoma just like you did before. i’ll be less heartbroken if you’re the one who dates him.”

“seonhui, i—” you begin cautiously, forcing down the bile that threatened to choke you. “really don’t have any feelings for thoma.”

and thus, the remainders of the day ends with the both of you bickering about an immature argument — and you’re quite certain that with how adamant you became, she wouldn’t attempt to ever bring it up again.

or at least…that’s what you tell yourself the next morning while arranging your dispersed books scattered around your desk, only to be greeted by a notification that seonhui would confess to thoma the real reason behind why your relationship together had suddenly become strained and awkward.

the alarming text almost immediately makes you stand up in horror, and an instinct shifts your gaze over at the familiar silhouette hidden away from the crowd of students packed inside the temperate classroom — tucked near the storage cabinets, and surrounded by the company of his otaku friends.

you gather the courage to sneak through the throng of classmates, biting your lip as you awkwardly approach him, whilst his friends simply stare in blatant astonishment at your unanticipated entrance. you offer them a civil smile, before leaning slightly to whisper in xiao’s ear.

“about the dating thing…” you mutter with darkened cheeks, unaware that his ears augmented into a redder hue from your close proximity. “we can say i was the one who confessed like you suggested, but um…wouldn’t it be better if the break-up be mutual instead?”

you’re incapable of listening to his next response, as a series of knowing cheers from a group of girls suddenly erupt from behind. “hey, something’s weird…what’s going on between you two?”

“nothing much, i just had to tell him something.” you beam lightly, however they remain clearly unconvinced by your bashful response. it’s only when a tall boy passes by the huddled students, that he begins to chide them about the mere fatuity of the absurd concept. “what are you guys even talking about? you know no one thinks that way about the both of them together.”

“maybe they should.” the deafening sound of a cabinet door slamming shut causes the commotion from the rest of the class to silence down, and shifts a swarm of inquisitive gazes over towards the quiet boy and you. “because starting from today, we're dating.”

sounds of remarks that carry utmost disbelief and stupefaction rumble throughout the confines of the walls, as the students gape in astonishment at what had recently and unexpectedly transpired near the cabinets. well, i suppose i should have already expected this — it takes everything in you to muster a fake expression of happiness at his verbalized declaration to everyone else — nevertheless, i still can’t actually believe this!

“WHAT?! HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?!” you hear a shriek of disbelief arise from the entrance of the classroom, and all you can do is simply smile at your heaving best friend with a courteous morning greeting, despite the problematic and somewhat cringe-worthy situation. you can tell she’s ready to fire a myriad of questions at you — however at this time, the bell already rings to signal the following class, and all you can do is send an apologetic glance over at seonhui.

it isn’t easy to clear your mind after the previous events though — you could feel a familiar glare boring holes through the back of your head for the rest of the subject periods, and even after classes had ended for a 15 minute break, you were already cornered in a hurried instant by the girl presently demanding for answers. “y/n, you’d better tell me what’s going on right now.”

| what should you tell seonhui? | choices: (a) say that you were the one who confessed, (b) try to weasel your way out of the confrontation.

| option (a), +1 affection [xiao] | “ah, right.” you mumble with flushed cheeks, somewhat pressured by seonhui’s unwavering determination to get to the bottom of the very odd and uncharacteristic situation.

“actually,” you slightly raise your hand, ready to clarify all her pending doubts about the unforeseen news of your relationship. “i’m—”

| option (b), no effect [xiao] | “huh?” you question with confusion, perplexed upon her sudden attempt to aggressively approach you with the peculiar topic.

“don’t pretend not to know!” she exclaims with a fuming tone, angrily pointing over at the boy peacefully situated all the way across the room. “why the hell are you dating that rude gamer?!”

“i’m the one who confessed.” you hear xiao suddenly admit, despite being engrossed in his own world with the mobile game in his hands — completely ignoring the way his friends and everyone else in the class literally gawked at his evidently composed demeanor. “i started to like her after cleaning together.”

despite the flock of people beginning to question what you particularly liked about him — your eyes flicker over to his equanimous figure instead, thankful and quite indebted that he had rescued you from an uncomfortable profession of love.

“okay, fine. have it that way, then.” you hear seonhui grumble, as xiao’s eyes coincidentally meet yours and shares an indiscernible look contorted across his pale face. the warmth of mellow daylight trickles in from glass apertures stationed behind him — and the ticklish feeling in your heart of a sprinkled wonderland of burgeons…have merely began to bloom.

“let's see how much you like him, as far as your relationship goes.”

| YOU HAVE COMPLETED ACT 2! |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 2, XIAO’S BONUS ROUTE — the first week of cleaning arrangements]

this is…way too quiet! — you awkwardly think to yourself, as you and your (unwillingly chosen) partner xiao, mop separate corners of the room in deafening silence, other than the occasional sounds of footsteps and moving of desks to the side. i should at least apologize on behalf of seonhui instead…then maybe it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable around here.

you hesitantly clear your throat first, testing out to see if he would react in some sort of way that could signal you to begin talking — but it’s like he’s the only person in the room! never once glancing over at you, never even flinching at the abrupt noise of your cough, nothing at all. “um…xiao, right?”

no response, again. but he pauses and looks at you this time, for the briefest of seconds, and perhaps you think it’s at least enough. “about seonhui the other day…swearing is sort of, a normal habit of hers. she probably — or scratch that, most definitely, offended you with those words…and i’m really sorry about that—”

“don’t be.” xiao suddenly interrupts in your sentences, before resuming right where he had left off in his cleaning. “she should be the one saying sorry in person. you’re just saying stuff you don’t really mean because you feel awkward that it’s just us two left here.”

your mouth hangs agape in astonishment, whereas his unfazed disposition never falters with every offensive (yet oddly accurate) choice and direction of words. “i’m not good at being fake and making small talk, so you don’t need to try either. let’s not waste time like this — i think it would be better for the both of us if we finish cleaning quietly, so we can get out of here faster.”

god, i know what he says is all true…but that doesn’t exactly change the fact that he’s such a —

“smart-ass.”

the room grows eerily silent, and it takes a moment to process why his golden-amber eyes are somehow back on yours, before the dawning consequences of the scenario eventually sinks in and you realize — you’ve said that out loud.

“s-sorry!” you hastily exclaim, slapping a hand on your mouth shut, berating yourself for being so careless and rude with your phrased thoughts. “i didn’t mean — oh gosh, i’m really sorry.”

“i didn’t mean that you should swear at me too.” xiao scoffs, raising an eyebrow at your completely flustered state. “i guess someone like you could have the audacity too.”

oh no, i only wanted to get along with him because he didn’t seem like such a bad person — you could feel evident frustration wrinkle on your face, and a distinctly painful burn suffuse across your cheeks from feigning a nice and well-mannered smile — but he’s so annoying!

| ACT 3: PLEASER. | XIAO.

“so, you’re sitting here too, huh…” you mumble with defeat as you watched him settle down in the seat beside yours, not even certain if you should still be surprised anymore at how the universe had suddenly taken an initiative role amidst the nearly improbable circumstances — all in hopes of helping you desperately save your long-lived friendship and your own stupid face.

“for someone who needed my help, that’s not quite the look i expected from you.” your new seat-mate nonchalantly comments, never batting an eye towards you as he casually sets his belongings to the side. “i don’t like it either, but it doesn’t hurt to solidify our alibi…” xiao pauses in his sentence, quietly thinking to himself for a brief moment. “well, that is, if you still intend to convince her—”

“i do, i do.” you grunt persistently, shadowing your face behind one hand while breathing out a deep sigh. it was seriously infuriating with how successful he was at getting on your nerves — first with his attitude during the first week of cleaning, then with you taking the downfall of confessing and breaking up, now this?

“i hope everyone’s satisfied.” the homeroom teacher eventually remarks with a hint of satisfaction, surveying everyone else’s varied expressions based on how the arrangements had turned out. “because this is it for the rest of the semester.”

the bell suddenly rings and signals the start of lunch break. strokes of black and white uniforms pass through the classroom exit in a flash — however, as for the tranquil noon of today, yours is not one of them.

your seat-mate stands up and begins to proceed along with the rest, whereas you tell seonhui you’re going to spend the free hour and a half advancing through some math homework. “nerd.” she scoffs sarcastically, tenderly patting your back and sending xiao a nasty glare, before soon leaving the room with a nonchalant wave. “try not to get your brain fried.”

“pst, dude!” xiao spares a brief glance across the room, at his friends waiting by the door of the nearly abandoned area, waiting impatiently with clearly famished sets of countenances. you salvage your unkempt belongings for a pencil and an eraser, preparing yourself to indulge in the lone universe of limits and derivatives — but to some slight surprise, you hear the shuffling of feet and movements from the chair next to yours, gazing at your seat-mate casually sitting back down on it with phone armed in hand.

“you’re not…going to eat?” you ask out of pure interest, staring at the exit only to discover that his friends had already disappeared. it was easy for you to presume that he would have bolted towards the door the minute the bell rang, in an endeavor to quickly get away from you, and spend whatever ticking time he had left for selfish peace and solitude…yet, he stays.

“i wouldn’t be a good boyfriend then, would i?” he mumbles half-heartedly, tapping the display of his illuminated screen a few more times, before the faint sound-effects of a mobile game suddenly come to play. “do your work or whatever, i’m not planning on bothering you anyway. i’ll just be here.”

your face creases in bafflement at his…oddly warm behavior. there’s a weird sensation that creeps up in your chest at his uncharacteristic response — and despite all the challenging problems or drawn-out solutions you were forced to scribble across the crowding sheets of papers on your desk for around fifteen agonizing minutes — it did absolutely nothing to dispel the snuggly and proliferating feeling that slowly began to invade your little heart.

and now, i can’t even finish this anymore! you groan inwardly to yourself once your fingers have finally given up on the writing utensil, hastily burying your face between your hands in hopes of somehow soothing the headache that incessantly poked at your poor and weary excuse of a useful brain.

“hey,” xiao abruptly calls you out, and your strained eyes flicker over to the boy’s glittering amber ones — you belatedly notice his phone set aside, and wonder how long he’s been staring at you with the lazy incline of his shoulders. “do you wanna ditch class?”

the incredulity that flashed across your face was highly unmistakable. “…are you even listening to yourself right now?” you question in disbelief, glancing back down at your assorted pages of homework piled upon your desk, the familiar yet despicable wave of pressure tumbling on your burdened shoulders. “no, no…i can’t do that. i can’t skip school.”

“because you’re a goody-two shoes?” he snorts with much intended sarcasm, crossing his arms with a displeased look on his face. “think of it as a date, then.”

“the case isn’t made any better, but i appreciate the effort.” you roll your eyes at the terribly nauseating thought. “though…i suppose it might help us drag this facade out a bit better, despite how horrid the idea sounds.”

“now you’re thinking.” xiao retorts with mirrored revulsion, staring up at the dull white ceiling in slight contemplation. “while i’d normally head to an internet cafe on my free time, perhaps you’d enlighten the notion of a bookstore instead.” his features crumple at the blatantly insipid concept of it — nevertheless, he was at least considerate enough towards you to include it. “well, you’re the lady around here. where do you want to go?”

| where do you ditch classes with xiao? | choices: (a) to the internet cafe, (b) to the bookstore. [NOTE, both choices result in the unlocking of two different and special routes.]

| option (a), +1 affection [xiao] |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 3, XIAO’S SPECIAL ROUTE (I)— fleeting smiles in gaming hell]

the muffled noises of friendly chatter drift throughout the half-crowded expanse that was the gaming cafe. neon and fluorescent lights coruscate to life despite the early afternoon, and the distinct aroma of potato chips flutter about the chilly breeze that blew quivering kisses on your temperate skin. xiao insouciantly guides you through the countless rows of computer desks, intimate with the quaint area like it had been traced across the back of his hand — and eventually pauses when you both reach an unoccupied space tucked away at the back of the cafe.

“games, are they fun?” you cautiously ask as you proceed to inhabit a tattered and moderately worn-out seat, however xiao grabs your arm and gently drags you over towards a more pristine chair stationed beside the shabby one. “if they weren’t fun, we’d probably be at the bookstore right about now.”

“…sure.” you resort to a civil nod, biting your lower lip as you settle down on the black piece of furniture to quell the bubbling anger in. “my parents are pretty strict, so they don’t really let me do this kind of stuff.” xiao slightly leans over your desk to flick the computer switch on, and retreats back to his side while doing the same. “or well, they’ll probably really kill me this time when they find out i’ve ditched.” you barely comment before letting out an embarrassed chuckle at the strangely amusing thought of yourself becoming a rebel.

“it was my idea, i’ll handle the consequences.” he remarks with indifference, selecting a pvp game from the collection presented on the flashing monitor of the device. “you just worry about your ass getting handed back to you on this game.”

why that little…you scoff at the unbelievably hubristic and rude declaration, keeping your lips shut as you click on the same game he previously chose from the main menu. you know what, anything can happen. i could be kicking ass in this game, for all that jerk knows—

“wow, you weren’t kidding when you said this was your first time.” you hear xiao frankly announce, tone laced with distinguishable bewilderment at your astonishingly embarrassing performance after flailing around the map for a solid five minutes into the game, as your defeated shoulders hunched before the displayed screen. “it’s like you need an exorcism or something — or i don’t even know if one can save you.”

“but why does this person keep hurting my character?” you huff with a frustrated pout, leaning towards the screen with a confused tilt of your head. “and they keep following me even though i’m running away…what should i do?”

“what are you even doing?” a pale hand immediately takes over control of your possessed mouse and the side of your keyboard, the sound of swiftly clacking keys echoing throughout your secluded space. “you’re really bad at this, y/n l/n.”

“i know, i know, okay?!” you exclaim with a pissed expression, grumbling in sorrow and disappointment from your admittedly careless show of gaming, as you retract your fingers from the side of the board to allow him more space…albeit your hand remains beneath his on the mouse. “and it’s my first time anyway, why the hell do i need an exorcism?!”

“i know, i’m kidding.” xiao snickered lightly, glancing back at you with the most trivial and teasing of smiles. “you’d get better with a bit more practice.”

…what?

something unusual tickles you within the depths of your warm chest — a fluttering sensation as the seconds seemed to slow down, as you stared at his glowing face illuminated by the flashing graphics of the screen, and the beauty of an tepid spring blooming amidst the oddest and most unexpected of smiles.

he…laughed?

| option (b), +1 affection [xiao] |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 3, XIAO’S SPECIAL ROUTE (II) — bookshelves and melting treats]

“i meant it as a joke, but i can’t believe we actually ditched classes for this.” you hear the boy lowly grumble beneath his breath, as you both set foot within the premises of the breezy bookshop. potted plants and strung fairy lights hang across wooden shelves, the wonderful scent of paperbacks and coffee permeates within the crisp temperatures, as streaks of incandescent daylight infiltrate the cozy nature inside confined proportions.

“oh come on, we won’t be here for long.” you reason with a light tug of his sleeve. “just let me buy some math workbooks and we’ll be out soon enough!”

“y/n l/n, what is it with you and math anyway?” xiao snorts in a nauseous tone, picking up a thin book displayed on a plastic stand with mild curiosity. “well, let’s make it quick and get out of here.”

the sound of soft footsteps trekking together reverberate through the airy establishment — your eyes carefully perusing the ledges in awe at the towering racks of stacked books within the quaint shop. when you reach the education section, you leisurely select a handful of advanced workbooks to practice on later when you’d arrive back at home. “okay, i think this is it.”

you turn around to tell xiao that you had finished — however the words pause behind your teeth when you catch him currently inspecting a slender children’s storybook within his pale possession. “…i never really pegged you for the type to be interested in fairytales.”

“it’s not for me, idiot.” came his bland response as you approach him, before he nonchalantly reaches to grab your books from your grasp, and disappears behind the corner to head for the payment section. “it’s for my little sister. now hurry your ass up so we can leave.”

“w-wait! you have my books.” you retort, hurriedly walking to match his swift pace, as he eventually deposits the aggregated stack of books upon arriving at the polished marble counter. “don’t.” he grumbles lowly, sliding an arm in front of you when you suddenly attempt to fish out a wad of cash from your pocket. “i’ll pay for this.”

“but…” you awkwardly trail off with a blank judgment, absentmindedly watching as the cashier skillfully packages your purchased items in a neatly fashioned paper bag, and xiao slides a couple of bills towards the lady in exchange. “thank you, have a nice day lovebirds!”

“oh, we’re not—” lanky fingers materialize as they encircle your wrist, and you feel yourself slowly getting dragged towards the door by the shorter boy, suddenly remembering why you two were even outside in the first place. “or you know what, actually we are.”

the scintillating sun sprawls across your faces as you both leave the chilly bookstore. you can’t particularly distinguish if it’s the pleasant weather or his calloused hands that makes you feel warm and tingly inside. “um so, where are we going now?” you ask in a timid manner, fanning yourself with your free hand as beads of perspiration begin to form across your forehead. “we didn’t really stay in there for long…what should we do now?”

xiao spares you a hasty glance, before looking back towards the front without much of a care. “let’s get some ice cream. there should be a stall at the end of the street.” you part your lips to speak, but he cuts you off with an instant response. “and no, you’re not paying, so drop it already.”

you let out a grumbling sigh, frowning because his unanticipated generosity was simply making you feel guiltier than you previously did for thinking he was a jerk. when you both approach the aforementioned stall, you immediately opt for the cheapest ice cream your eyes could find on the menu with a hurried blurt, causing xiao to send you a side-glance while pulling out his wallet that clearly rendered you a weirdo.

“you…why are you so nice today?” you eventually find the courage to ask when the two of you had strayed around the busy district. “what, not a single thank you for buying you books and an ice cream?”

but you…were so annoying before! — you’re tempted to retort, but you keep your lips shut and bend your pride out of greater gratitude. “…thank you. really.”

“that wasn’t so hard.” he remarks with an indifferent scoff, but somehow you get the impression that he’s purposefully doing it to poke fun at you in return. it’s twisted humor, but somehow it suits him.

“remind me to never go on a date with you again.” you groan with a knackered countenance, shaking your head at the odd series of events that transpired in a mere day. your ice cream begins to melt beneath the temperate heat, and you inwardly panic while beginning to eat the sweet treat with more urgence.

“don’t worry,” a soft snicker rumbles, and you feel something warm brush the cream thoughtlessly smeared against the corners of your lips. your gaze meets the culprit’s amber irises, a small and teasing smile surprisingly contorted across his pale features, that begins to send your heart into a ticklish frenzy. “we’re never doing this again, y/n l/n.”

the weather was blistering, but not like the look he gave you on that verdant spring day.

| YOU HAVE COMPLETED ACT 3! |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 3, XIAO’S BONUS ROUTE — 12 am rambles]

sometimes, all it takes is the slightest nudge.

“…why are you calling?”

“you were the one who texted me.”

you stare down at your phone, studying the illuminated monitor that displayed your chat with him. “yeah, to say thank you…again. i wasn’t actually expecting you to call me though —”

“big brother xiao, is that mom on the phone?” an indistinguishable voice squeaks from the end of the line, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion at the seemingly childish tone. “who…is that your sister?”

the slightest nudge to make the kaleidoscope of butterflies in one’s heart…

“no kid, it’s not mom—” “—or, is it that pretty lady mom scolded you for skipping classes with…?”

…burst forth with a roar.

“pfft..” you stifle an amused laugh, knowing xiao wasn’t the only one reprimanded by his own parents (but part of you begs to wonder if it was his mother who thought of you as so, or him). “can i talk to the pretty lady too??”

“…it’s getting late, don’t you have a birthday part to attend tomorrow?” ruffling noises echo through the line, as you pin the phone between your cheek and shoulder, while stuffing the last of your books in your backpack, in preparation for the next day. “here, take your bunny and make sure to sleep in your room qiqi.” you hear a soft and affectionate exchange of ‘goodnights’ between the siblings, along with the sound of a door gently shutting, before his voice comes back much clearer on the end of the phone. “hey, what were you saying?”

“did she enjoy the book you bought her?” you inquire with an absent smile on your face, as you set the bag on your desk before laying down on the plush of your bed to anticipate his own response. “she came inside the room to say thanks. i’m sure she likes it anyway.”

like when something no one had thought of…

“still…i know she’s your sister, but it’s a bit weird to hear you call someone by their first name.” you hum in thought, blankly staring up at the whites of your drab ceiling. “you usually call others by their full names, or i don’t know…you make up the worst nicknames too.”

“it feels more comfortable.” a series of special sound effects reverberate from his side, and you presume he’s probably busying himself with a computer game while conversing with you. “what about it anyway?”

…suddenly feels so peculiar.

“would people get suspicious if you called me by my full name?” you ask while unconsciously twirling your hair, suppressing a yawn from escaping your mouth at the somewhat late hour. “i heard that nowadays, couples usually call each other by their firsts or…sappy nicknames.” the awkward thought makes you cringe, and you’re quite certain he feels revolted by the sound of it as well.

“then again, you can’t really say we’re like the rest of them.”a faint noise of players shooting sparks behind the volume of his voice. “because you’re talking about real couples, and we’re just faking it.”

“…i suppose that’s true.”

the silence immediately ensuing after the sensitive topic makes it all the more uncomfortable. you’re wondering if he’s unsure what to say next, or if he just doesn’t feel like talking to you tonight. well, he is sort of busy with his game…

a breathy and hesitant sigh suddenly comes from his line. “but i guess…it wouldn’t really be the end of the world if i said it out loud.”

for instance,

“y/n.”

(tickle, tickle.) the unexpectedly pleasant sound of your name tumbling down his lips brings the silliest of smiles to your drowsy face, as your eyes lightly begin to flutter close to the melody of his soft voice. “xiao.”

(only to make her feel better.) “y/n.”

(his name sounds…nice.) “xiao.”

| ACT 4: SWEET TO ME. | THOMA.

“that guy’s a jerk.” your fists shake in quelled anger, glaring down at the disorganized paper congested with various rounds of ‘connect four’ — and on the corner of the paper were five scrawled marks labeled beneath his name, whereas yours were left regrettably empty.

“one more round?” you reached up to gently tug on his white sleeve, as he prepares to leave with his friends when the bell instantly signaled break. had it not been for xiao’s idea to play a few rounds while in class, you would have likely dozed off into the deepest of slumbers, after staying awake to talk with the said boy all night.

“no thanks.” he snorts at your displayed sullen frown before turning away. “it’s not fun to play when you’re always winning.”

“you seem comfortable.” seonhui merely remarks, head leaning on her hand as she glances over at you. “you usually act…i don’t know, too good? and then all of a sudden, you’re skipping classes and calling people jerks.”

you avert your guilty gaze, sheepishly fiddling with your fingers. “i know, it’s bad isn’t it?”

“i think it’s refreshing.” she muses with a playful smile. “you should be doing stuff like this more often.”

i can’t tell if she’s joking…you think to yourself with burning cheeks, hastily shaking your head in severe denial. “no way, my mom was really harsh with her scolding yesterday. i can never do that again.”

“well, whatever’s the case, you both look…weirdly good together.” seonhui grumbles, recoiling in disgust upon listening to her own words. “ew, forget i said that.” she rapidly shakes her head, standing up as she taps a few fingers on your desk. “get up and let’s change, we have pe next.”

the passing comment of you and xiao seemingly good together as a couple…ignites a peculiar and indecipherable sensation within your own little heart. it’s an absurd thought, yet it patiently dawdles on the back of your mind even as you stand next to your best friend beneath the withering heat of the brilliant sun. “i’m a bit curious though,” came a hushed mumble from your side, as the pe teacher begins with the morning greetings towards the class. “why does xiao treat you like everyone else does? i would’ve thought he’d give you…i don’t know, some kind of extra special behavior for his own girlfriend?”

that’s because it’s fake…you merely shrug your shoulders at her tricky question, other drifting murmurs of the students abruptly halting at the sound of a deafening whistle. “we’ll be playing some sports today! you can either divide yourselves in groups or play with friends, anything is fine as long as you’re participating in something.”

your eyes land on a tuft of green hair towards the front, and the awfully familiar sight of it makes you contemplate quietly to yourself. how would xiao act if he was with someone he liked? would he miraculously be nicer? go out on better dates with her?

would he…smile more often?

“hey, stranger!” a friendly nudge wakes you up from the hazy trance, and you glance over to catch viridescent irises staring your way. “thoma, it’s been a while!”

the class had dispersed into several groups, and you’re left standing beside the tall boy rocking back and forth on his heels. “i figured, um…well, it’s been a while since we had that ‘talk’…and we’re still good, right?”

you bob your head with a reassuring smile, reaching up to tenderly pat his shoulder. “we’re good. like always.”

he exhales a groggy sigh with fatigued shoulders. “okay, that’s great, thank god.” thoma shakes his head, shadowing his face with one hand to conceal his embarrassment.

“so…why aren’t you with your other friends?” you raise an eyebrow, gesturing over to a distant group of students huddled together to play a tennis match. it was easy to recognize them as so, because you noticed how thoma would always eat alongside the same people at the cafeteria.

“oh…it’s nothing serious.” his cheerful expression falters for a brief second, and when you blink again his eyes are instantly locked on yours. “what sport are you interested in playing? i’d like to have a match with you today.”

“ah, i’m only good at tennis.” you grin sheepishly, surveying the vast expanse allotted for various sports. “though…it looks like all the rackets are already occupied.”

“want me to teach you some basketball?” thoma chimes with a proudly twisted grin, tilting his head at you with a beaming aura. “basketball? you know how to play basketball?”

“harsh.” he grunts while feigning a dramatic tone. “i am pretty confident in my skills, so i wouldn’t mind teaching you a few ace tricks. although the morning heat is quite torrid today…maybe we should skip it for the vending machines instead.”

“i seem to be ditching classes a lot nowadays…” you sarcastically admit, much to your visible chagrin. “you still make quite the tempting offer.”

“oh but, will your boyfriend mind?” thoma cautiously asks, inspecting the various faces of students in search for a particular face. “not really…” you gesture over towards the boy in question bickering about with another familiar and short silhouette. “he’s busy playing tennis with seonhui, the teacher probably forced them to play it together again.”

“so…what do you say, then?” he playfully smiles with a mischievous bow, courteously extending a free hand towards you with one tucked behind his back. “where shall we head off to, my lady?”

| how do you spend pe classes with thoma? | choices: (a) lessons with basketball, (b) over at the vending machine. [NOTE, both choices result in the unlocking of two different and special routes.]

| option (a), +1 affection [thoma] |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 3, THOMA’S SPECIAL ROUTE (I) — basketball lessons and laundry detergent]

“i can be a bit clumsy with this.” you warn in advance, dubiously treading heavy footsteps over to the somewhat vacant green court, situated near the corner of the school backyard. “so i’ll just apologize ahead of time.”

“not to worry, you’ve got a fantastic teacher!” thoma sends you a poised smile, warming up with a few flashy tricks that leave you both intimidated, yet in undeniable awe. “are you ready?”

“sure.” you nod lightly, bouncing on your feet with excitement. “i wanna learn how to shoot it well through the hoop though.”

“we can start with that.” he grins, walking towards the towering hoop at the end. “i’ll try to make the explanation simpler. just observe my stance and the way i hold the ball.”

you watch from the sidelines as he shifts into a staggered position, flexing his knees slightly while his right hand goes under the ball. “since we’re both right-handed, here’s your shooting hand.” he remarks, faintly gesturing over to his right. “and the left is a guide for the direction.”

thoma slowly begins running up towards the hoop, and quickly tosses the basketball within his precise grasp — which manages to fall through the hole quite smoothly. he glances back over his shoulder, a seemingly proud twinkle gleaming in his green eyes. “and that’s how you do it!”

“great, yeah. completely understand.” you mumble in a dazed manner, still processing the movements that just transpired, while he slowly draws closer to you and offers the basketball in his hands. “come on, you can do it. you’re the ace student after all.”

your hands reach out to grab the ball, gingerly facing the hoop as thoma retreats to the sides with a following suggestion. “why don’t you try dribbling before you shoot? maybe you’d be more comfortable with holding the ball by then.”

you do as he says and let the ball freely drop from your possession, tapping it a couple of times with your right hand before looking over at thoma for validation. “you’re a bit cautious with it. you could try to move around.”

“oh, okay—!” your hands accidentally push the basketball towards the right, and you carelessly begin running towards it without noticing that the sudden direction was already leading towards the blonde. “y/n, watch out!”

your eyes flutter shut while skidding your feet on the court, bracing yourself for a painful impact…only to be caught by a slender pair of arms wrapping themselves tightly around your shorter frame. something sturdy presses against your chest, and it takes a few seconds before you feel a warm breath tickle the patches of skin around your ear from the exhales of a relieved sigh.

the scintillating heat of the sun was nothing compared to the flush that rose in your cheeks. you tried to pry yourself away from his grasp, suddenly feeling paranoid that someone would accidentally catch you in the scandalous act…and realize that you and xiao were just a lie. but his hands are relentless as they press you further into his embrace. you can feel the sound of skipping beats vibrate from inside his chest, and a million fireworks begin to set off in your own heart. “thoma?”

it’s as if the gesture snaps him back to consciousness, and the both of you jump away at an instinct, like you had both been burned with each others touch. thoma awkwardly clears his throat, frantically glancing around with a clearly nervous demeanor. “so, um…did you like it?”

“what?” your cheeks darken once more. “what are you—”

“the detergent!” he hurriedly exclaims, almost like he struck a realization. “i, uh…got a new one.”

“o-oh!” you stutter before nodding expeditiously, trying to rid yourself of the weird tension falling between the both of you. “y-yeah, it um, smells nice.” the bile in your throat remains stuck, and it’s only when you peek over the boy’s shoulder, that you witness one of his friends approaching with a gawking countenance. “t-thoma? y/n? what were you doing over there?”

oh my god, oh my god, oh my god — you inwardly begin to panic, glancing over to see the blonde frozen in mirrored astonishment as well. what are we going to do?!

“y/n, i thought you were dating—”

and then without further warning, thoma suddenly charges into a speedy run towards the approaching boy, hastily spreading his arms out to tightly wrap around him as the other lets out a surprised groan from the collision — depicting the most uncomfortable embrace of the entire century. “um, what the hell are you doing?”

“i got a new detergent!” the blonde rapidly justifies, aggressively pressing his friend’s head towards his sleeve. “i was asking y/n’s thoughts on it earlier…” thoma sneaks a glance behind his shoulder, meeting eyes with you for a split second while making sure the other boy’s head was firmly pressed down. “but i need a second opinion. does it…um, smell alright?”

the silence was deafening, filled with only muted sniffs of his quiet friend, before he eventually looks up to stare at thoma in an intimidatingly serious manner. “you…”

oh my god, he’s gonna find out! — “where the hell did you get that detergent?” — that xiao and i were lying, and seonhui’s gonna…huh?

you gaze at the sniffing boy with wide eyes, bewildered that thoma’s foolish stunt somehow actually worked. “i-is it alright?” “yeah dude! it has a nice crisp lemon fragrance…but not too harsh and citrusy…”

his friend begins to grab onto the sleeve for harsher purchase, whereas thoma desperately attempts to budge the clinging man off with an expression of mortification — all while you stifle your laughter and hold your tongue at the awfully affectionate moment shared between the two friendly boys. “hey, that’s enough — let go! WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP SNIFFING ME ALREADY?!”

| option (b), +1 affection [thoma] |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 3, THOMA’S SPECIAL ROUTE (II) — drinks beneath cherry blossoms]

“the weather is more pleasant underneath the shade.” thoma casually remarks as he leans on a pillar, patiently waiting for you to choose your drink, while you carefully scrutinize the displayed menu stuck to the vending machine. “it would definitely feel much better with a cold drink.” you triumphantly grin, fingers punching in a button with a large bottle of lemon iced tea. your hands reach down to jingle around your pockets for spare change, yet a fair hand inserting a crisp bill already beats you to it. “oh, that’s mine to pay.”

“it’s alright, i’m the one who invited you out here anyway.” he smiles warmly, retracting his limb from the money slot as he steps closer to inspect the menu, hovering around a few buttons before eventually reaching a decision. “and i think i’ll have the same as you.”

faint transaction noises are made, before the machine generates the product and your bottles roll down the opening. he bends down to reach the both of them, and courteously hands one over to you, to which you bashfully accept with gratitude.

the two of you decide to walk around the outdoor corridors of the premises, chattering about together like the old days, forgetting about the recent events and acting as if your recent relationship hadn’t ever changed.

“you look…better nowadays.” thoma suddenly points out, fiddling with the bottle of the drink in his hand as you gaze over at him, while seated on a stone bench near the school gardens. “i mean…i don’t know if it’s just me who notices but…you seem to look happy with him.”

“with xiao?” you hum to yourself in contemplation, thinking about the past few events that had transpired. “yeah. i didn’t really understand at first why it was the both of you,” he shakes his head with a small smile. “not that i mean anything rude by it, but it was sort of…out of the blue? and now, even seonhui tells me you’re more — well, relaxed around him.” he snickers knowingly. “and we both know how aggressive she can get.”

you smile absentmindedly at the thought, a cool breeze sweeping through the greenery, as a shower of cherry blossoms begin to descend from the pink trees. “do you…really like him?”

something foreign tickles your heart at the sudden question. you knew the whole relationship was completely fake — built out of the desperate foundation to save your own friendship with seonhui. but what if — despite the chance being slim, despite irritating comments and unexpected conversations, despite the fact that you swore you’d never end up involving yourself with him…and yet you stayed up all night just to listen to the sound of his voice —

what if you really liked xiao?

“i…”

“you don’t have to answer that.” thoma says, staring down at the sundry hues of petals dispersed all across the ground. “i think…it’s okay not to know yet. i mean, you have the rest of semester to think it over, right?” he smiles comfortingly, glancing over to meet your confused gaze. “but for whatever it’s worth…i hope it makes you happy. i wish nothing but the best for you, y/n.”

the sudden tenderness behind his honest words makes your heart feel mushy inside. “thank you, thoma.” you return his kind smile, gazing back up at the clear rapture-blue ethers and fluttering flowers — witnessing the last effervescent remainders of the slowly fleeting and tepid season, seeing how it all began to fade away as you sat together with him.

“i hope you’ll find yourself happy someday too.”

| YOU HAVE COMPLETED ACT 4! |

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 4, THOMA’S BONUS ROUTE — late hours and drizzling rain]

[WARNING! the following scene contains a short preview on the summer chapter.]

“hey.” you warily nudge xiao, shattering his focus on his mobile game as it shifts towards you. “you can go home first. this might take a while to finish.”

“you sure you’ll be fine?” he raises an eyebrow, stuffing the device in his pocket, as you incline your head with an encouraging smile. “you go ahead, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

he leaves without saying much, other than a casual ‘goodbye’ as the sky gradually darkens — and you find yourself solving math equations left alone in the silence of your classroom. you were practically cramming the last bits of the previous lesson’s information in your half-malfunctioning brain, trying not to think about the rumbling weather outside. before you know it, thick water droplets collide against the glass of the windows, and a chilly air fills the abandoned classroom.

that stupid scary story…if only i hadn’t heard any of it! — you anxiously chastise yourself, scribbling a couple more numerical values across the crowded sheet of paper, the incessant thump of your heart rate drastically spiking with wild thoughts. oh god, it’s nighttime and raining like they all said…what if it suddenly comes in?

a bead of perspiration condenses against your forehead, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. it’s peaceful and quiet — other than the faint pitter-patters of outdoor rain, the heavy scrawling of your pencil, the hushed sounds of footsteps treading closer, the soft noises echoing from the jutted ceiling fan…

wait, what?

your gaze slowly meets the tightly shut door out of fear, a bone-chilling sensation creeping up your spine. the squeaking of footsteps get louder, and you clutch your pencil with evident terror. i should have gone home with xiao!

the door suddenly slides open and you let out a horrified shriek, throwing your writing utensil away as you cover your face with quivering hands. “a-ah! i’m sorry!”

“uh, y/n?” a familiar voice echoes by the entrance, and you hesitantly lower your trembling limbs to witness…thoma standing there. “w-what…thoma, what are you doing here?”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” he smiles guiltily, stepping into the vacated classroom. “i came to retrieve my phone, i accidentally left it in here.”

“o-oh, okay.” you take a deep breath, attempting to calm your shaken nerves, while thoma approaches his seat and fishes on the space beneath his desk, retreating with the said phone in his grasp. “want me to stay behind?” he politely suggests, pointing down to his chair. “i can sit over here, i promise i won’t distract you.”

“no that’s alright…um, can i walk home with you instead?” you ask out of nervousness, while hurriedly filing your belongings in your bag. “sure! i’ll wait for you by the door.”

once you’ve finished packing everything on your desk, you scurried over towards the tall blonde, and begin walking down the bleak and dull corridors of the building. “thank god you’re here…i would have lost it if i stayed alone in there any longer.”

“no problem! although i noticed xiao wasn’t there, don’t you guys usually go home together?” thoma inquires, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “i told him to go home first — i felt bad for keeping him in there for too long.”

“did something happen between you and him?”

“um, not that i can think of anything. why?” you ask, peeking over at the tall boy.

“nothing much.” he grins. “just…i can feel it when i’m looking at you two. xiao likes you.”

xiao…likes me.

your fingers rhythmically tap on the strap of your backpack, and you glance over at thoma walking on your right, attempting to avert the odd subject into a different direction. “um, did you hear that scary story earlier? the one about the student six years ago?”

“is that why you were jumpy?” thoma snorts with a teasing grin. “well, six years wasn’t really that long ago…and it sounds so realistic. it must have been difficult for him, to have made such a choice and ended up leaving his family and friends behind.” you mumble quietly while staring blankly at the cemented ground. “but those are just rumors, so i’m sure nothing happened and it was all made up.”

“yeah…i hope so.” the blonde trails off, an indecipherable expression contorting on his shrouded features. something feels off about the surrounding air from such simple words — chilly and bitter, as it prickles on your skin, akin to a familiar sensation of loneliness.

“if something’s wrong, it’s okay to confide in others.” you offer him a small smile. “even if it’s not much help…” thoma’s seemingly lackluster eyes avert from yours, gazing with sentiment at the drenched windows. “sometimes just having someone listen, can make you feel better.”

he doesn’t say a word, just swallows the lump lodged in his throat and silently thinks to himself for a while. you don’t think you’ve ever seen thoma so uncharacteristically serious, as he stands there next to you mute, and you wait for him to speak again.

“like you said,” he mutters. “it’s just a rumor. so i thought it would have become so blown up, that the truth would seem minor in comparison.” a brief pause. “surprisingly, it hit close to home. i think that’s what’s more shocking.”

your eyes stare at him in puzzlement, yet he continues talking. “it took place six years ago…on a rainy day. he was burned out from school.”

thoma finally meets your uncertain eyes with a sad smile. “although it was from the roof of my apartment, instead of the school...

that my brother jumped.”

| ACT 5: I HEART U. | XIAO + THOMA.

something’s weird.

the warm breeze flutters the sheer fabric of white curtains, blowing past your face as it sends a gust perforating through your hair and up in the wind. it kisses your skin with tender tickles, and brings a light flush across your cheeks as you glance over at the boy seated next to you.

when did i become more conscious of xiao’s presence?

from the slightest fingertip brushes to accidental and shared eye-contact — everything sends shivers down your spine, and it makes you feel more paranoid than usual.

do i…

“y/n l/n.”

like xiao?

“don't you think it's time we end this act?”

(the seconds pause.)

“what?” you question in bewilderment, shifting your gaze up from your written homework to the sound of his voice. “so suddenly?”

“i wouldn’t say its sudden.” he mumbles, never once looking towards your way from his phone. “after all, it’s not like we’re dating for real.”

ah.

“it’s been long enough that your best friend will believe you.” xiao adds without much of a change in his expression. “but if we drag this on any longer…it’ll only be harder for us to find the right timing to break up.”

(strangely, it feels so…) “okay…” you nod, fidgeting with your fingers with a placid smile. “you only did this to help me out anyway…so if that’s what you think, we should stop.”

you chew thoughtfully on your lip, wondering what to tell him for the last time. “um…thank you. for everything.”

(real.)

i feel so embarrassed. you regretfully think to yourself, staring over at your original seat-mate, after discovering that xiao had only swapped seats to stay next to you and maintain the facade. i don’t know why i feel so anxious about it. i thought…

he liked me.

…huh?

“y/n l/n...i thought you said you liked me.”

you clasp your fingers together, shutting your eyes at the faraway memory that already felt so long ago.

i guess…i’m being punished.

“you know what, good job for breaking up with xiao.”

you find yourself seated outside during break time, together with seonhui on a nice bench, as she aggressively pokes a hole through her juice box with a plastic straw. “i don’t plan on telling you to go out with thoma either anymore…i mean, how could i when you were dating that tiny dude?”

you glanced over at the contemplative girl, as she gazed up at the cloudy smudges of a brilliant blue sky. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you’re happy.”

“but,” she halts, clutching her little drink as she raises it up to her mouth and takes a sip. “if you dated someone you didn’t have feelings for, like i think you did…then i feel sorry for xiao, because he was serious about you.”

you shift your eyes away from her, staring at the distantly situated trees from afar, a light tension settling between the both of you. “while we’re on the subject, how about we both be honest about our feelings and let them out?”

seonhui continues, toying around with the inserted straw. “yes, it’s true that i like��thoma. he’s my first love, and it’s been one-sided for six years. so to be brutally honest, i was grateful and relieved it was you. i wasn’t prepared to see him date someone else i didn’t know personally yet.” she looks over at you. “but don’t misunderstand — i wasn’t lying when i said i wished you both well.”

“so now, it’s your turn.” she concludes, pointing her drink blatantly at your troubled face. “be honest with me, y/n l/n.”

“who do you really like?”

[NOW UNLOCKING: ACT 5, XIAO’S SPECIAL ROUTE — late professions and dirty secrets]

[SPECIAL WARNING: if you select xiao as your final love interest, this scene will depict your character trying to confess to him — special inner dialogues for this particular route are marked with parentheses “()”. however, if you’re choosing thoma’s route instead, the story will simply proceed as it goes.]

“seonhui, is it alright if you go ahead first?” you nudge your best friend lightly, staring at the boy quietly waiting inside the vacated arts room. “i need to talk with xiao for a second.”

(i was selfish.)

“sure.” she pats your shoulder in reassurance, before eventually walking away with a wave. “i’ll be around in the corridors.”

(i wanted to know how xiao really felt.)

you exhale a trembling breath, stepping inside the classroom and firmly shutting the door behind you. xiao’s head tilts towards the source of the sound, staring over at you approaching his seated figure on the table. “let’s make this quick, then.” he mumbles, setting his phone aside, as he nonchalantly leans back on the desk.

“i know it’s silly of me to ask of this now, but…” you clasp your hands together as you look up to meet his golden-amber eyes. “why did you want to help me? this had nothing to do with you.”

(because my true intention was to confess my feelings.)

“why did you say you’d go out with me?”

(but i suppose he already had other plans.)

“because it was annoying.”

his gaze pierces deep into yours, albeit the words cut harder than anything else he did. “the way you acted all nice was irritating, so i wanted to see how far you’d take it.”

he puffs out a casual sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “i didn’t really think you’d pretend to go out with me, because of your best friend.”

“why don’t you just go out with thoma? i think he still has feelings for you.” xiao remarks, raising an eyebrow over at your solemn expression. “you really might as well just date him.”

(when i realized that something was amiss…)

“what are you..”

“even if your best friend likes thoma…”

the sound of a sliding door slowly creaks ajar, and two varying sizes of silhouettes quietly linger from the opened entrance.

“it doesn’t look like…he has any feelings for her at all.”

(it was too late, and someone had already been hurt.)

“what a load of bullshit.”

| TO BE CONTINUED… |

spring is...coming to an end.

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years ago

Note

Literally anything from that prompt list with Bo would send me over lol.... but specifically 26, 24 and 48 together 💀💀💀

-the-slasher-flies 🔪💕

I also got, "You look real pretty when you cry,” for Bo so I’m going to combine all these into one, filthy fic. I went off the rails with this one. Please thank my husband for all the beautiful ammunition for this story ;)

Territorial

Bo Sinclair x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Dubcon, violence, blood, minor character death, heavy degradation, slapping, daddy kink, biting, marking, spanking, belt, hair pulling, choking, spitting, possessiveness, creampie

The second the laugh leaves your mouth, you know you’re fucked.

Bo had asked you to meet one of the travelers at the gas station, to keep them busy while he delt with the others. The guy who sauntered through the door had proven to be funny, charming, and handsome; a horrible combination when Bo’s ego was added to the equation. Shamelessly, he flirted, and you couldn’t help but smile at the attention.

Then…. Then he’d made a joke the second Bo had strolled into the shop and you couldn’t stop the surprised giggle that bubbled up your throat. The color drains from your face when you spot the blue mechanic’s suit out of the corner of your eye. Bo knows when you’re faking a laugh and this wasn’t one of those times.

He fixes you to the spot with that furious stare you’ve come to know so well, so intimately. You bite your lip, apologizing with your eyes, but he’s having none of it. The young man catches sight of your terrified face, turns to you, asks you if you’re okay. He reaches for your arm, maybe to give you a comforting squeeze. He doesn’t see Bo stalking up behind him.

Steel sinks into the man’s neck so easily you would think his skin is made of butter. Thick crimson wells up around the blade, pours down his chest, spills from his lips, parted with shock. His eyes go wide and he drops to his knees, clutching fruitlessly at the lethal wound. You slap your hands over your eyes, turning away, but Bo clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Uh uh, baby girl, yer gonna watch,” he growls, wrenching your hands away from your face, spinning you around, holding you by the jaw, and forcing you to look as the life drains from the man’s sweet, hazel eyes. Cigarette scented breath wafts across your face as Bo whispers in your ear, “Yer gonna watch what ya’ done, yeah? This is all you, baby.”

The man chokes on his own blood, coughs, splutters, then lands face down with a soft thud that hangs heavy in the air. Crimson pools around him as he finally falls still. You can’t breathe, your chest heaving, but refusing to pull in oxygen. You’ve never seen anyone die before.

Bo shoves you up against the counter, forces your eyes to his, cruel smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You try to apologize, stumbling over your words, anything to save you from what comes next.

“B-Bo—

“Shut up, slut. I don’t remember askin,’ huh? You were gonna let that little prick fuck ya’, looked like.”

“N-No! I wouldn’t—

“Oh, no? Ya’ wouldn’t? Does this stupid little whore actually remember who owns her?”

“Bo, please—

You gasp when he delivers a stinging slap to your cheek, hard enough to leave your skin angry and red in its wake. He growls, low and dangerous, “Maybe if I punish ya’, it’ll help ya’ remember who ya’ belong to next time.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, instead gripping you around the waist and tossing you over his shoulder. Bo heads toward those dreaded basement steps. You haven’t been down there again since your first days in Ambrose. You’d hoped to never see it again.

Bo kicks the door open, drops you unceremoniously on the filthy mattress. The sent of blood, fear, and Bo’s musk billows up around you as you shrink back against the wall, memories of how you’d met brought to the surface by the metallic reek clinging to the walls.

“Do not fuckin’ move,” he orders, pointing a finger at your face. Without a backward glance, he strides across the room. Your eyes dart to the open door, but you squash down the desire to flee. He will catch you. He always does.

A noisy clatter draws your gaze back to the other end of the room. Bo turns, another knife clutched in his palm. He chuckles, relishing in your dread when you visibly tremble. Crossing the room, he kneels at the edge of the bed and beckons you over with a wave of the blade. Obediently, you crawl to him, sitting back on your heels and awaiting further instruction.

“That’s a good girl fer not runnin’. Kinda dumb though, I mean, I gave you an openin’.” He laughs, drags the chilly point of the blade down your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, pressing it lightly to the exact place he’d buried the other knife into the man upstairs. He hums quietly, strokes your other cheek with his bloody fingers.

“I can’t wait to put bruises all over that pretty skin.” You shiver at his whispered words, moisture pooling between your thighs despite the terror gripping your throat. Your heart beats frantically against your ribs, pleading at you to fight, to flee, something, but you remain seated on your knees as is expected of you.

Bo uses the knife to saw through your shirt. When you’re bared to him, he wraps an arm around your waist and leans down to sink his teeth into the soft flesh under your collarbone. You wince, suck in air through your teeth, whimper when he sucks a deep purple mark into your skin. He grunts, does it again under your jaw, drags his tongue across your tender flesh until you moan.

“Ohh,” he coos in response, viciously biting your shoulder and making you hiss, “Does that slutty little cunt get wet when I hurt ya’, baby girl?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, choking on a gasp when Bo shoves your face into the disgusting mattress.

“Ass up, whore,” he orders, cutting into your shorts and underwear enough so he can rip them off your hips. “Jesus Christ, look at that,” he murmurs as he drags the flat of the cool blade along the lips of your dripping pussy. You clench your eyes shut, icy fear surging through your veins. Oh god, oh god, please don’t….

“Look, fuckin’ look,” he growls, fisting a hand in your hair so he can wrench your head off the bed and shove the glistening steel in front of your face, “Look at how fuckin’ wet y’are. Just achin’ for any cock to fill that whore cunt, huh?” As well as you can with how hard he grips your hair, you furiously shake your head.

“No? No, yer not a filthy slut?” You shake your head again, wondering if you dare speak.

You risk it, “Yours,” you whimper, gritting your teeth when he shoves the knife closer to your lips.

“Oh, so now ya’ remember, huh, now that ya’ have a knife in yer face?” You nod and Bo shoves you back into the mattress. The knife clatters to the ground and you hear the clink and slip of his belt as he jerks it off his hips. You clamp your eyes shut when he snaps the leather, knowing exactly what comes next.

The first slap of leather across your skin makes you jump and shriek. Sharp, stinging pain follows each noisy smack, the sound bouncing off the walls and ceiling until all you can hear are the blows, your yelps, and the blood rushing in your ears. You wriggle, flinching as much as you dare as leather connects agonizingly with your skin again and again. You wish the pain didn’t make you burn with need, but Bo’s conditioned you well after all this time.

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath, warm palm smoothing over the angry, throbbing skin of your ass and thighs. He drops the belt, leans over you, tips your head to the side, and brushes his thumb through the tears you just now realize are staining your cheeks.

“Oh, baby girl, ya’ look real pretty when ya’ cry. Roll over.” You do, flopping onto your back as quickly as possible. Bo spreads your slick thighs wide, settles between them, pops the button on his pants, and slides the zipper. He pulls his painfully hard, flushed cock from his pants, sighing in relief and lifting you hips to line up with your damp entrance. With a grunt and a groan, he slams home, plowing through tight, slippery muscles and tearing a scream from your throat.

Bloody, calloused hands wrap around your neck and silence your cry. He jackhammers you into the mattress, indifferent to your own pleasure, intent on permanently imprinting himself in your cunt for all time.

“That’s right, baby, that’s right.” You choke on nothing, twisting your hands in the sheets, face feeling like it’s going to burst with how hard he squeezes your throat, “Sure, yer a cock hungry slut, but yer my cock hungry slut, got that? This. Is. Mine.” You nod and he lets off so you can gulp in air and cough.

“Yer nothin’ but my stupid little fuck toy, yeah? Say, ‘Yes, daddy.’”

“Y-Yes, daddy!” you shout, moaning loudly when he tilts his hips and batters that perfect spot he knows will make you scream. Bo spits on your chest, smearing the saliva over your breasts and rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger. He slides his wet hand up your neck, over your chin, and shoves three spit-covered fingers in your mouth.

“Suck on my fingers, get ‘em nice and wet fer me.” You suck as well as you can, laving your tongue along the pads of his digits until he groans. Bo rips his fingers from your mouth, spits on them, brings them to your clit. He mashes the sensitive bud until you’re keening and meeting each punishing thrust.

“Ya’ think you deserve to cum, slut?” You shake your head and Bo laughs, “No? That’s right, ya’ don’t. Only good girls get ta’ cum.”

“P-Please, daddy,” you whine, “Please, I’ll-I’ll be g-good.”

“Ya’ wanna be good now?” Frantically, you nod, heat building in your core, muscles fluttering around the cock assaulting your insides.

“Who-f-fuck-who do ya’ belong to?”

“You! Bo, daddy, please, you, I’m yours, I’m yours, please, fuck, I’m, I have—

“That’s right, bitch, yer mine. Mine. This filthy fuckin’ cunt is mine.”

“Yes! Yes! Yours! Please, daddy, PLEASE!” You’re going to implode, shaking from head to toe, poised right at the brink but terrified to fall.

“Cum for me, slut, cum on my cock, fuckin’ do it.” You scream, vision whiting out, back arching off the mattress, every nerve in your body alight with beautiful sensation.

“Fuck, god, fuck, ‘m gonna fill that dumb cunt up with cum.” Bo wraps his hands around your throat and buries his cock as far into you as he can get. With a broken cry he spills warmth into your belly, his face twisted with pleasure as your twitching muscles milk him dry.

Bo slumps, catching himself with hands planted on either side of your head. Breathing hard, you meet his gaze under your teary lashes. The anger burning in his baby blues has dampened to a smolder. There’s more lust there than anything else now.

“Say it again,” he rasps, dry throat cracking when he speaks.

“I’m yours, Bo.”

“That’s my girl.”

#bo sinclair #bo x reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax (2005)#house of wax #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #n sfw #my writing #thank you for the ask #bo sinclair x you #reader insert #mmmmm fuck this was fun to write #even more fun when it happens in real life #hehe

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 4 years ago

Text

part 12

ink was getting nervous. Error was coming by at night, and since every other vampire was sleeping, he couldn’t do anything but wait in his garden-

Something wasn’t quite normal with error. He looked pretty anxious, wary even-

Ink sighed. Life was so empty- not even death could fix that

He discovered that over time, most vampires could get used to the sunlight after being exposed to it very lightly. He also noticed that vampires couldn’t be murdered unless they were shot or stabbed in the soul

He not only wasn’t affected by the sunlight in the first place, but he had no soul to begin with-

Death wasn’t an option.

Boredom was the only thing that was “killing” him

Ever since he could remember, life was always so boring

Empty

Without any goal to achieve or get going with

He clenched his fists

The only thing that was following him around and that let him stay alive was…

Guilt

For something he could never forgive himself for

Maybe he could fix it?

He didn’t want to think about it now-

He traveled inside his garden, wandering around his maze, then sat down near some bushes

He was an immortal being with barely no will to live, but he did have a passion to stay sane

And it ended up being art.

Painting, sewing, designing, sculpting-

Creating was a nice compensation for destroying everyone’s lives…

Now that he was thinking about it…

…….

Wait, who was that?!

Ink noticed a shadow fly away from his garden. ‘Right when he had some inspiration to draw’. He ran to them, but he realized they already left.

It was probably another vampire, but the vast majority preferred to go out at night since they won’t be so visible to the mortals. Though it was unusual for a one to fly off so fast and early in the morning. The sun was bright, and even he felt pretty nauseous staying on spot without anything to shield himself from the heat of it.

Even so, he stared at his surroundings, curious to see if the person left something, when he noticed a crispy letter on the grass.

Ink sighed, who could it beee?

He painfully leaned down to catch the letter, and opened it.

Right, it was him.

Just when he thought he’ll get to talk to him personally-

He sat down and read the long paragraph that decorated its paper.

…

“…oh-“

He got up and dusted off his clothes from the remaining dirt and leaves that stuck to him, then trailed off to his castle-

“Looks like the meeting is still ongoing”

******

His steps were heavy,

And he was getting weaker-

He collapsed on the ground

It was so painful to be alive

And he hated it

He HATED ink for what he did!

He-

He…

….

Well, the forest wasn’t a good place to fall unconscious in, so he painfully got himself up.

He could hate ink all he wanted, but the mortals were even worse

If only he could just KILL THEM ALL

ALL OF THEM

Ugh-

“…”

Huh

Crying?

Him?

Out of character, right?

He wiped away the tears that were slowly forming themselves in his sockets. He had to- he had to go and ask for help like the idiot that he is! He…he didn’t want him to-

…

Die? Who? What the flip was he even doing in that forest anyways?!

Oh yeah, heal himself

Obviously

He sat by a tree and painfully tightened the holes and scars with bandages after carefully removing the bullets and disinfecting the injuries with his magic. He really didn’t want to see him again,

But he didn’t have a choice anymore

********

*tap*

He sat on his sofa, slowly waiting for his guest’s arrival in front of his large window.

He closed his eyes patiently, then sighed calmly

“nice seeing you again, error”

His silhouette slowly appeared in front of him, threatening as always.

“…”

He looked away, a frown still in place.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to see me, but god can you be stubborn!” ink pouted. They knew each other for years, but one thing that didn’t change was the fact that error was never happy to see him

Nor to spend time with him

Actually, the times where he’ll be “happy” is when he almost “kills” him, or when he leaves-

Yeah, a nice “friendship”

“I swear if it wasn’t for an important reason I would’ve never stepped a toe in your hell of a castle!”

“but you still came here. And I’m sorry if I am worried about this reason that’s so important it actually made you sit here, and talk to me for once.”

Error flinched at his sarcastic tone, and he thought about giving a spiteful remark back, but he sat on the sofa in front of him, directly facing the window, choosing to ignore his off handed retorts to leave that place as soon as possible.

“… well-“ error tried to collect his words, obviously tired of what had happened to him this past weeks.

“there is a small town very far away from here who sent a…detective? Spy? Whatever, A trained mortal to hunt down the vampires while being hidden amongst the normal villagers, and he’s been very wary of YOU especially.”

“He had been giving some “ideas” to the mortals, and if he manages to convince them to overthrow your rules and influence, he’ll quickly discover your intentions and the hidden place of multiple thousands of vampire, causing the extinction of the race in a second. And while I flipping hate your guts and I despise you all so much, vampires and mortals alike, I can’t really be all that powerful and safe when the humans can win over me; the amount of vampires decreasing giving them “courage” to kill the remaining.”

He stated the last sentence with disgust. He didn’t give two cents about vampires, even less monsters or even humans, which he hates even more, but ink’s motives were vastly different

ink loved vampires, because he had to; Being the original vampire who first existed. He was the reason so many mortals turned into those people, feared by the pitiful society called the living. And just like that he and the other vampires that followed began growing stronger in number and power.

You could say that he didn’t have a choice- that it was in his nature; he’s a vampire! He can’t help but drink blood, in the case of monsters, magic-

But

Not only can vampires resist the urge to drink blood, by simply eating meat, but in ink’s case

He doesn’t even like drinking blood nor magic

He was more into literal ink

The only reason he drank blood in the first place was to get feelings

The first vampire didn’t have a chance to get a soul, so he discovered he could get feelings another way.

And he despised doing that

Because

Of how he discovered

That-

“INK!”

Ink looked at error, realizing he must’ve been daydreaming for too long

“…”

Ink got up, then undressed himself from his coat.

“Huh? What the he- what are you doing???”

“Well, suffice to say we’re going to catch that little comedian and eliminate him as soon as we can”

Error didn’t expect such bluntness from ink, but he couldn’t care less about that, more like, he was caught off guard by the “we”

“Hey, hey, hey- this is YOUR job, mister! It is not my business to attend”

Ink looked back at him, and gave him a warm smile

“Didn’t you say earlier it affected you if all the race disappeared? Wouldn’t you want to stop that from happening? I might add that you wouldn’t come here unless you really had to, so is it just for a message or did you need my help?”

He hated it when ink gets smart

But at the same time he was right

Though there was still another reason on top of it all, but he kept his mouth sealed

That bastard didn’t need to know

“…fine. What to do now”

Ink’s smirk became predatory

“What makes you think we’ll need to do anything?”

Error flinched

“What?”

Ink giggled-

“Well, it’s getting quite late don’t you think?”

Error looked back at the window, the moon shining bright in a cold, dark night

“Ink! I need answers!”

Ink paused his laughing, then smiled

“I’ll tell you more about it if you’ll be my guest.”

He bowed slightly, still keeping eye contact with the other

Error tensed- he didn’t know what to do now

“…is this a trap?”

Ink looked surprised at that statement, but quickly rectified

“Not at all!”

“Then what makes me believe that you’re not going to kill me in my sleep!”

Ink paused a second, kind of offended by the other’s skepticism when he just wanted to welcome him

Well, guess it can’t be helped

“I promise you that I will answer your questions tomorrow, It’s just that you might be exhausted from the constant travelling- the bruises and scars look like they just need a bit of attention, and you-“

He trailed off, citing multiple reasons why he needed a shelter from him, and error quickly cut him off

“Okay- okay- I get it”

It did make him feel a bit better though, considering ink takes his promises very seriously, so he might as well stay for a night

“Just ONE night”

He crossed his arms, and ink chuckled

“Sure, sure-“

He smiled

“Goodnight then, error”

*******

“well, how about we talk more about it in a more...private environment, yes?”

**********

ink belongs to @comyet/ @myebi

error belongs to @loverofpiggies

dark cream belongs to @zu-is-here

well, it took a while to update you guys, but i’m really happy about it!

error holds a huge grudge against ink- what is it? still haven’t finished that part yet guys ;D

also, the illustration is a spoiler for the next part focusing about ink, but as they say- it’s not a real spoiler if you have no context right ;)?

((remind me not to paint an illustration for a writing i haven’t updated in a while it just makes it worse))

also, the reason i haven’t drawn error once is because i can’t decide on a design he often hides his face with a very dark cape. i will give you guys a sheet with everyone’s faces (protagonists only) their mouths (the difference between their fangs) and their markings/eyelights

very exited to write more about ink though- it’s going to get interesting very soon ;)

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infernalshadowtheif · 4 years ago

Text

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?" Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side.

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be."

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human.

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week.

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again.

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline.

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides.

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.”

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.”

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage.

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone.

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't.

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?”

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?"

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of.

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why."

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment.

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over, making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound.

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s worth anything.”

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now."

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??"

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back."

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now."

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body.

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

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plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Burning Scratch Marks

TW: I do go into the feeling of itching so be wary of that. Starts early on and happens shortly after the cut

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I often do this with my arms and neck when I get irritated or like nervous so like, little bit of self-indulgent (^▽^;)

It starts off as a prickling feeling, just a small itch that can be brushed away with a dull scratch, a simple scratch that can be tended to quickly and ignored. You shuffle in your chair, rubbing your thumb over the side of your index, clicking your tongue as you watch a random video on the internet, finger swiping over the video and scrolling to the next post. Your leg jerks and the itching feeling grows. It starts off in the back of your head, inching towards the right, feeling it creep and center itself, burning and feathery touches above you; and you swallow tightly as another feeling grows near your knee, only to be soother away by a quick scratch followed by a rub of your palm.

You don’t know why it happened, why the sudden feeling to pick and scratch at your skin occured. It’s been a good while since it happened- the scratching feeling that nips at your skin and begs for attention only to spread as you continue to scratch, leaving you with a slight burning feeling over your skin, the feeling that lingers and can only go away once you have completely distracted your mind- and now it’s returned, wrapping around you with a firm grasp.

You wonder if this is how Tomura feels when he scratches at himself. If it’s just a burning ache that starts and once indulged in just spreads further and further until left wincing when warm water hits at the slightly raw skin that is decorated with scratch marks. Or maybe it’s something different for him. He doesn’t talk about his tic and neither do you. You don’t speak about it, you fret over when he does it- tugging at his hand and forcing him to do anything else that will force his mind to focus on literally anything else- you don’t mention your own struggles with it, scratching at your neck, raking your nails across your back and down your arms, and quickly washing your hands as if that would get rid of any evidence of your little “episode”- a quick pause in what you were doing before the itch arose.

You arms is hooked over your shoulder, nails pressing onto your skin in a pleasurable sting that burns and flows through the middle of shoulder blades, your back blooming with a flush as your hand works its way across, your brows furrowing and heart racing ever so slightly, a slight little hiccup that starts and continues as your hand cramps and the music sounding through the room stops abruptly, the screen black and mirroring the reflection of the room, and off in the distance you hear muffled voices, your eyes widening and you dig your nails deep into your back and pull, leaving you gritting through your teeth, the need to scratch growing and fogging your mind and you rest your hand on your lap as the door opens immediately.

Bright, yellow eyes immediately land on you and you’re given a sharp toothed smile. “They’re here!” Himiko shouts, turning around, her sweater around her waist as she walks out your door and presumably into the apartment. “Told you they would be here.” Her voice is muffled but you can make out the pride in her voice at being right.

Your nails run over your cheek, light and only enough to feel a smidge of relief and with a lick of your lips, hand curling over your neck, nails poised and ready to leave marks, you turn and swipe a throw blanket, bunching it in front of your chest and walking towards your living room.

You're greeted with hellos and waves of hands. You smile brightly, your legs tense and hands bunching the blanket, you take a seat next to Tomura, who throws an arm around you immediately, pressing his lips over your jaw line. It’s a simple, light kiss that isn’t so much of a kiss but a press, a soft nuzzle as he tilts his head, his nose pressing into you and you can feel his lips move, a silent greeting. He pulls away and his hand curls around your shoulder, the other grabbing onto your leg and pulling it above his, fingers lingering and pressing onto your bare thigh.

You turn and press your lips against his shoulder- a recreation of what he did to you only seconds prior, your lips pursing, feeling the cotton under your lips and you pull away. “So what brings all of you to my humble abode?” You ask, throwing the blanket over the both of you, scooting closer to him, your hands resting on your lap, fingers already trailing upwards with short, chipped nail polished nails running over the soft skin, tracing down where a vein would be to glide upwards and rest on the crook of your elbow.

“We all just needed a break from all of that,” Himiko replies, playing with the sleeves of her sweater that rests on her lap. She continues when she sees your confused expression. “It’s just a bunch of paperwork and having to play nice and to be honest,” she straightens up and lets out a huffed sigh, “it’s getting real tiring.”

You let out a scoff, a smile playing at your lips. “Who knew having money would cause so much trouble,” you joke, your arm stinging with pleasurable pain, soft and burning as your nails drag themselves down. “So is that the reason you all visited? It’s been a while since I’ve seen all of you.”

Jin scoffs and his leg bounces rapidly, your own heart matching his pace and the corner of your eyebrow itches. “Yeah, well big boss over there,” he jerks his head where Tomura sits next to you, “doesn’t like when we visit you without him.”

Your hand lifts from under the blanket and you scratch at your brow, moving your hand to scratch behind your head, and then to space beside your ear and quickly shoving your hand under the blanket, dragging your hand across your thigh, ignoring the screaming itch that burns to be clawed at. “How sweet,” you turn to give Tomura a quick smile, “even Tomu-kun here gets jealous if you visit me without him.”

“I’m glad you’re getting such a rise out of it,” Tomura says dully, shifting on the couch and turning his head to have his nose gently poke at the side of your head. “How are things here? You like the apartment?” He asks, his hand coming to your thigh, accidentally nudging at your hand, his brace pulling and rubbing at the sensitive skin and you jerk away from him. He pulls away and gives you an odd look.

“Ha, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. You clear your throat and nod your head. “Yeah, I like it here.” Your hand returns to your arm and you drag it down, feeling the bone that hides under your skin, the phantom touch of pressure fading slowly. “You didn’t have to get me a new one. I liked the old one just fine.”

He shrugs and his eyes close as he rests above you, his ring and pinky finger softly tapping against your inflamed skin. “This is one is closer and has a nice view for you.”

You nod and mumble a “thank you” to him, letting your arm go free and giving him a grateful squeeze on his arm. You turn your attention to the rest and your arm begins to sting painfully slow, a dull, throbbing pain as blood rushes under your marks. “How have things been with the rest of you?”

“Well I’m glad you asked,” Atsuhiro begins, mask coming off as he tosses a leg over the other. “As Himiko already stated, it is a bit much.”

“Do you mind if I get a drink?” Shuichi asks, already rising and walking towards the kitchen.

You smile and nod despite him having his back turned towards you. “You all know you’re free to get what you want. That hasn’t changed- even if you guys haven’t visited in a while.”

Atsuhiro makes a pleased noise and nods to himself. “Always so generous. I have to thank you for that.” He gives you a soft smile and you shake your head lightly so as to not disturb Tomura who rests against you.

You rake your hands down your arm and your shoulder jerks, the itching relief brie- fading all too fast for your comfort, not even a second where you get to breathe in the relief, gone and faded nd your nails dig into your arms and leave angry lines that flash against your skin. “You don’t have to. I was always happy to help you guys out.” You smile sweetly and the corner of your lip twitches. Your body aches all over, begging to be clawed at, to just have your nails drag against you and pull taut, to just feel the relief for a fraction of a second. “So go on,” you smile encouragingly, “tell me how it’s been.”

You try to focus on the words that leave Atsuhiro’s mouth- words that are interrupted and corrected with the others’ words. You focus and try to retain all the information, you hum and gasp at the correct times, nod your head eagerly and give a disapproving frown when you hear something you don’t like. You try to be a model audience, to give them their time to listen. That’s all you have to do- just listen and yet your skin screams louder than anything you’ve ever heard before- louder than cry, siren, scream. It yells and stings, aches and burns and without realizing it, your hand is dragging down your arm- nails curled and clawing, the relief growing greatly the more you do it- the harder and sharper you go and when you pull down wrongly, nail going in too deep and threatening to tear your skin you gasp and pull away as if you’d just been burned and it aches. It stings and tears pool in your eyes and you know that your arm must look awful.

A voice cuts through your thoughts and you have your gaze torn away from the wall behind Atsuhiro and you stare blankly as Dabi repeats himself. “Are you jerking him off or something?”

Your mouth parts and brows furrow. “Yes Dabi,” you start, a sarcastic tone in your voice accompanied by an eye roll. “I am currently jerking off Tomura under the blanket in front of all of you,” you emphasize the last few words and your nails press deeper into your arm, “because I’ve decided that while we could have our time in private, I would rather share it all with you. Oh heavens,” you feign shock and throw your arm that is free of nail marks over your eyes, “how ever did you figure it out.”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at you. “I’m glad you wanted to share such an intimate moment with us but I think a video could have done the job.”

Your mouth pulls into a thin frown and slowly a smile creeps over as you shake your head and lean onto Tomura’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I like you, you know.”

Dabi gives you a crooked grin and stands from the couch. “I’m stealing some food.” He walks past you and gives you a firm pat on the head and you stick your tongue out at him.

“It’s not stealing if I let you.” Your smile is short lived when a hand wraps around your forearm. You turn your head and the tip of your nose brushes alongside Tomura’s whose eyes are open and staring into yours.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a raspy voice and his hold on you tightens. Your heart stops and you know that he knows. Your breath hitches in your throat and you rise suddenly, his grasp on your loosening and hand falling onto his lap.

It feels as if something walks alongside your neck, faint and brushing ever so gently and you scratch at your neck, eyes wide and face pale. “I’m fine,” you choke out. You turn to the rest who watch with interest and you your stomach drops, your body heats and you wrap the blanket over your arms and pull away. “I’m,” you drift off, taking a short step back, the walls closing in and eyes unblinking, “going to take a nap,” you finish lamely. “See y’all in an hour or whatever.”

You walk quickly to your room and close the door, you back pressed against the wood and you sigh, blanket tossed onto the bed and hands coming up to wrap around your body. It’s a small moment of relief- relief so sweet that you can understand an addiction, understand the high and need to return to it, one that leaves you salivating with nail marks etched onto your body like decorations.

Your arms stings, painfully so, nothing pleasurable and it brings tears to your eyes but you can’t stop. Your heart pulsing and eyes watering, shut tight and as your hands are raised in a horrible grasp, fingers bent and nails sharp and threatening, two hands wrap themselves around your forearms, pulling away from you and your eyes open.

You stand in silence with your back against a chest and you let out a small gasp, eyes coming to open and you stare at your mattress, focusing where a small part of it is crinkled and risen and your shoulders slump.

“Tomura?” You whisper, letting your hands go limp, alternating into a fist only to release it when the hands squeeze down at you.

“Your arms look terrible.” He lets your arms fall to your side and you lean against him, hands tapping against your skin in a nervous tic and you turn your head in a pitiful attempt to nuzzle into his chest. “Am I allowed to ask why?”

“I-” you want to give him a sarcastic answer but you don’t have the energy to- “It just happens sometimes. Usually when I get stressed. Sometimes out of nowhere. Other times when I get triggered by something.” You sigh and brush a strand of hair away from your face. “It’s no big deal, really. It’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with this.”

“And now?” He waits patiently for you to answer, hands coming to hold your waist. “Did we- Did I do something to trigger it?”

You shake your head. “Started a little bit before you came here.” You smile softly and you nudge your foot against his. “Maybe it’s like a partner thing. I mean,” you head tilts and you let your eyes close, “you do it too, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” His hands run over your arms and you flinch. He mumbles an apology and you shake your head. “It’s fine. Just stings is all.”

“I like knowing that we have something in common but,” he starts turning you around gently, his hand coming to wrap around, resting against your back and the feeling to itch has faded substantially, “I don’t want it to be this.”

“What? You don’t like seeing us have matching marks?” You joke darkly, resting your temple over his beating heart.

“Stop it.” Your smile falls and your arms wrap him. Your words are muffled, soft and slurred together and your arms hurt. “It’s fine. I just- I don’t like seeing you all,” he pauses and his hand clutches your shirt, “scratched up.”

“It doesn’t feel good seeing you like that either, you know?”

He sighs and pulls out your grasp. You look up at him with tired eyes and a parted mouth, hands falling down and wrapping around yourself in a mock hug. He stares at you and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he shoves you lightly, your back hitting the edge of the bed and you get the hint.

You both rest on the bed, shoulders and arms meeting and his mouth is pulled into a thin line. His hand brushes along yours and you give him a glance, raising your brows and you watch him intently as he raises your arm and presses his lips against it. His chapped lips meet your sensitive skin and it pricks differently. It’s not sharp or stinging, it feels light and fluttering and makes your face burn. You turn and scrunch your face at the act of intimacy, breathing sharply as his lips kiss over the raw skin.

“So shy all of a sudden?” He coos, the tip of his tongue poking out and swiping at a scratch that burns against your warm skin.

“Don’t lick,” you huff, “it’s gross.”

“We can be gross together,” he laments, letting your arm fall from his grasp and when you turn to face him, his face sports a handsome blush. “I know how it must feel and promising not to do it is difficult, so,” he pulls a face at his words and stares at the door, “next time the urge happens, just message me or whatever.”

You smile softly and it slowly breaks into a soft laugh. You press yourself against his collarbone and place your legs above his.. “As long as you promise to do the same.”

“Of course,” he replies immediately. “Whatever you want as long as it’ll help.”

You stay next to him, the pads of his fingers pressing over your skin, tracing over the lines and following a pattern until they fade into you. He hushes your soft whines when you whimper at the feeling of his brace scraping over you. He presses his lips over the pull and blows cool air over, pulling your arm up and placing his lips over your palm in a chaste kiss. He steadies himself over you, runs his lips up to the tips of your fingers and pulls you close to him, his eyes drooping and hand falling free from his grasp as he comes to place his face into the crook of your neck, hair tickling at your nose.

“Just tell me when you need me, okay?” He whispers against your neck. “I’ll be there for you."

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura headcanons #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki bnha #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fluff #i hope you like it!!

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trensu · 4 years ago

Text

crack tangled au that nobody asked for

i saw a pic of wang yibo with blond hair and decided that lan wangji needed to be rapunzel. idk what else to tell you guys. there’s literally no other reason this exists.

so lwj has lived in his tower for as long as he can remember. his father says he’s not allowed to leave it ever bc the outside is Dangerous. There’s all sorts of unsavory folk that want to take his magic blond hair and use it for Nefarious Purposes.

lwj is not all that interested in going outside. he trusts and loves his father. his father only wants what’s best for him. the outside world sounds scary anyway. besides, his father gave him a friend a few years back in the form of a small, surprisingly intelligent lizard named huaisang so he’s not lonely. And his father brings him books and other things for his hobbies. he hopes his father visits again soon bc his guqin’s strings snapped and now he can’t play.

lwj would have lived his whole life quite content with his little huaisang in the tower. except one day someone crawled in through his window. a STRANGER found his tower!! a DANGEROUS STRANGER was in his tower for NEFARIOUS PURPOSES. Probably. His father warned him about these guys. so he does the sensible thing and whacks the STRANGER over the head with his stringless guqin.

he stares blankly at the unconscious stranger and then looks at huaisang.

“what are we supposed to do with him now?” lwj murmurs to his little lizard. huaisang makes a little growly sound. lwj nods. “But I don’t think we have any rope.”

lwj decides to use his hair.

look, wwx is not having a great day. he got chased by royal guards after he and jc were caught trying to steal from rich ppl (hey, he and his brother and sister were orphans without a penny to their name!! and sure, jyl brings in some income playing nursemaid to a fairly well to-do family and he and his brother find odd jobs here and there, but thats hardly what you’d call stable income...so maybe sometimes they help themselves to extra gold from the lordly families like the Jins; nbd, right? it’s not like they’d even notice the loss and also they’re all Assholes so they deserve to get robbed) bc maybe, MAYBE jc had a point when he said they’d be overreaching trying to steal from the royal Lan family.

he eventually loses the guards which is good! but then he loses track of his brother, which was bad. and then he somehow acquired a Very Angry Horse that won’t stop following him which is weird. also mildly inconvenient but an angry horse is still a step up from angry guards. then there was this tower he climbs up, ignoring the angry horse’s whinnies.

and now? Now he’s slowly regaining consciousness and finding himself tied to a chair by golden rope...hey, wwx is up for some bondage every now and again but, like, he’s gotta go through all the kink negotiation and safeword confirmation and sort out all the consent stuff before he gives the go ahead. he’s pretty sure none of that has happened. So this is the UN-fun type of bondage and...wait a minute...this isn’t rope...is this--?

“who are you and what are your Nefarious Plans for my hair?”

wwx looks up and sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen in his entire life. if jc were here he’d be shouting up a storm, demanding they be freed this instant. jc is about 90% of wwx’s impulse control and 20% of his common sense (the other 80% of his common sense resides with jyl at all times for safekeeping). So instead of demanding to be released, wwx puts on his most charming smile and leans forward towards the prettiest man in the world who’s hovering not nearly close enough in his space.

“well, hello. you can call me your future husband and the only plans i have for your hair involve a bed, you, and--”

He really should have expected the next hit to the head.

as far as meet-cutes go...it could’ve gone worse.

“i can’t believe you’ve been stuck in that tower all your life. don’t you get bored??”

“No.”

“don’t you ever want to stretch your legs and enjoy the sunshine?? go for a swim maybe?”

“No.”

“well why are you making me take you to through this awful forest and go to the palace??”

“Huaisang.”

“umm...bless you?”

The pretty man known as lwj sighs. “No. Huaisang is my lizard. It’s not fair for him to stay cooped up with me all the time.”

The lizard perched on lwj’s shoulder wiggles its disconcerting little lizard hand at him and, like, smiles at him. can lizards smile? they shouldn’t. it looks creepy. lwj cups a hand over the little lizards head and whispers to wwx.

“he thinks he’s a dragon. i want him to see what a real dragon looks like so he can figure out for himself that he isn’t one.”

“oh, so that’s why you wanna go to the palace. yeah, i wish someone had told me before that they had a dragon guarding the royal coffers.”

lwj narrows his eyes suspiciously at him. “why.”

“uh, no reason,” wwx winces and discreetly tugs the burnt edges of his robes out of view.

an awkward silence lingers for a painfully long time. the Angry Horse makes a sound. wwx suspects that he’s laughing at him. wwx sighs. at least he gets to enjoy the view, he thinks as lwj marches confidently ahead and subsequently gets them all lost.

lwj was just trying to be nice. that’s all. he wanted his little lizard friend to be happy. that’s it. his life was just fine before that!

but in the course of 48 hours, he finds out huaisang really IS a dragon, and is actually the little brother of nie mingjue, the dragon that guards the royal coffers. he falls in love with a roguish, penniless thief whose smile outshines the sun and carries a heart as golden as lwj’s hair. Said thief is now being held hostage by the man he calls his father but is in reality Meng Yao, the lan’s royal adviser who kidnapped him as an infant in order to use his magical hair for Nefarious Purposes. Oh, and apparently lwj is the long lost lan prince.

...he knew he should’ve stayed in the tower.

lwj feels his lips quirk up slightly as wwx runs his fingers through his now very black, very shortly cropped hair. wwx beams at him.

“didn’t i say i was gonna be your husband?”

“Hm,” lwj gives a small nod. “but having a horse at the wedding is a surprise.”

“yeah well, apparently we’re a package deal bc he won’t quit following me.”

wen qing, the witch officiating their wedding, scoffs. “seriously?? you haven’t figured it out yet??”

she taps the horse angrily chewing at wwx’s robes and suddenly there’s a man in purple robes shouting at the top of his lungs.

“A WEEK. I’VE BEEN CURSED INTO A HORSE FOR A WEEK, WEI WUXIAN, YOU IDIOT. HOW GODDAMN STUPID ARE YOU THAT YOU DIDN’T REALIZE---”

“Oh, jiang cheng! you’re just in time for the wedding!!”

The shouting lost all coherency at that point. but that’s okay. lwj is very happy he finally left his tower anyway.

#crack au #not to be taken seriously at all #i was bored and blond wyb is apparently a thing that happened at some point #so here we are #trensu tells stories #wangxian #the untamed #tangled au

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whoisbxcky · 5 years ago

Text

Little Stark, Big Trouble.

request: Do you take requests? If so, would you mind writing one where the reader is Tony’s daughter and fighting on Steve’s side in the civil war and she gets hurt and it brings Tony to his senses to talk it out? Your writing is amazing!

pairing: dad!tony x daughter!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: well it’s me, so naturally angst for days, descriptions of fighting and violence, death (fleeting and temporary mind you), a lil parental wholesomeness at the end there, possibly bad language if u squint, maybe even a dad joke if u reeaally squint

author’s note: My first ever request and I am SOBBING. Thank you so much kind anon, not only for the request, but for the faith in my writing to act out your vision.

I DO accept requests and am definitely accepting them right now!! I’ll write for any character, so long as the fic content isn’t anything inappropriate (i.e. no Peter Parker smut. None. Period.).

So please, feel free to hit me up with suggestions, requests, and (hopefully) enjoy my first ever non-Bucky romance orientated fic!

Chaos. Absolute chaos, all around you.

It was all out warfare.

You were hazy on the finer details regarding how exactly the Avengers had come to be two opposing forces. You knew it was because of Bucky. His actions, or rather, the actions of someone rather distastefully sporting his face, had coincided with the creation of the Accords, which had called for Bucky’s arrest, which Steve didn’t agree with, which had pissed your dad off…

Dad…

You let out a sigh as an explosion went off to your left, ducking for cover behind a storage container as your mind whirled.

Not exactly the time or place for an existential crisis, but you’d make do.

The decision to support Steve over Tony, your father, had not been an easy one.

One the one hand, after hearing Steve and Bucky out and reviewing the evidence, it was painfully obvious that Barnes was innocent.

On the other hand, your dad was your dad. You loved him, and having to look him in the eye and tell him you would stand against him, go to war with him, if needs be, had almost torn you in two.

Why? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? Trusted your judgement, if not the facts Steve had ready to present to him?

Your father had babied you from the moment you’d been recruited by Fury and made a part of the Avengers. Always trying to sideline you from missions, always hovering over you and scolding you for literally doing your job.

You knew it was because he cared. He loved you and he didn’t want to see you get hurt. You knew that.

But gosh darn-it, you were an Avenger.

Getting hurt, putting your life on the line, doing the right thing: all part of the job description.

The sound of your name being called over the intercom roused you from your thoughts, and you cringed inwardly, you weren’t exactly being a valuable asset to Steve’s team like this.

“Stark, you alright?”

Bucky’s worried tone crackled in your ear, and you cleared your throat, doing your best to mask the waiver in your voice as you responded.

“Yeah, Buck. I’m fine, heading to you guys now.”

After a quick glance at the mayhem before you, you slipped out from behind the container, jogging briskly across the airport tarmac towards Bucky and Steve, who were fighting alongside an obnoxiously large Ant-man.

You came up short, staring in confusion at the oversized figure in front of you.

Another explosion to your left, the sound of Steve’s voice calling out over the intercom in your right ear. There was so much going on around you, you hardly noticed the lithe black figure barrelling towards you from behind.

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice called out to you from afar, a voice that only ever brought comfort, familiarity, love. Or at least, it used to.

Your eyes met your father’s for a split second, the agony in his battling with the reluctance in your own, until an unseen force took you down from behind, your body becoming airborne for a moment at the sheer force of the impact.

“Y/N! Dammit, T’Challa, take it easy!”

Tony’s haggard tone rung out across the airport, and as you easily rolled out of your free fall, you looked up just in time to see the fear and concern in his eyes, before a well-aimed truck launched by Wanda took his attention elsewhere.

“Dad…”

You cursed under your breath, moving to check on your father’s condition, but T’Challa’s looming form materialised in front of you, blocking your path.

You grimaced.

“Your highness, it’s a real pleasure, but would you do me the Kingly honour of getting the hell out of my way?”

You offered him a sickly-sweet smile, before removing the extendable staff from your utility belt and snapping it open to its full length.

T’Challa let out a noise of indignation, his vibranium claws appearing at his fingertips. The ringing of the rare metal sent a shiver down your spine, and you readied yourself to strike.

There was a pause, as you and the Wakandan King stared each other down, then chaos.

T’Challa landed the first hit, straight to your jaw. You responded with an elbow to the ribs, ducking to avoid his swinging fist. He kicked out at your knee, causing you to stumble, but your staff allowed you to steady yourself before you spun, bringing the hilt of the staff around to strike his neck.

You struck again, lashing out with a feint strike to his temple, before redirecting your hit to take his knee out from under him. Your opponent gave a grunt of surprise, and you grinned, spinning on your heal to drive the full force of your staff into his face.

He was thrown backwards, a few inches away from you, and you took the opportunity to turn and make a break for Steve.

Big mistake.

Within milliseconds, his hand had snaked out and grasped your ankle in a vice-like grip that made you yelp. A quick yank on his end, and you found yourself flying through the air once more, your head colliding rather ungracefully with the concrete below as you landed.

You groaned, moving to get back on your feet, when suddenly T’Challa’s weight landed on top of you, launching your skull back into the ground.

You snarled up at him, firing obscenities at him in abundance as you both grappled on the ground.

One minute you were pinned, then him. Next you were in a choke hold, then he in an arm lock.

The two of you were at a rather aggressive stalemate, so engrossed in trying to take the other out, that neither of you noticed the concrete slab that was hurtling through the air, heading straight for where T’Challa now had you pinned on your front, arms stuck behind your back.

Above you, you heard the Wakandan curse, before his weight disappeared as quickly as it had landed so unceremoniously on top of you.

You flipped onto your back, eyes locking onto the debris that was now seconds away from impact.

With a start, you moved to roll out of its way, but your tactical gear had snagged on a protruding metal bar by your thigh.

You were trapped.

Everything seemed to happen all at once then, but at an agonisingly slow pace.

You heard T’Challa yell.

Steve’s voice screaming at you over the coms.

A flash of red one way.

Yellow coming from the other.

The final thing you heard was the gut-wrenching sound of your father’s voice, screaming in desperation for you from far away.

Then, there was only blackness.

…

“Y/N? Y/N!?”

You were vaguely aware of the sound of a familiar voice calling out to you. It was so far away, though, and you were so comfortably warm down here… In the darkness…

“Y/N, sweetheart you need to open your eyes. Come on, kiddo!”

Now the voice was louder, it shook the world around you, trying to make you leave the welcome blackness that you were floating in. But you wouldn’t go… Couldn’t make you…

“Y/N! Dammit, wake up!”

You heard a high-pitched whirring somewhere above you, and as you moved to settle deeper in the darkness, the force of a freight train struck you in your chest.

Your eyes burst open.

“Dad!”

You half screamed; half wheezed for your father. Frantically grasping at the air, your chest, anything. Willing oxygen to return to you.

The familiar sensation of a sturdy metal hand gripping your own almost made you cry out in relief. Your father’s face swam into focus above you, he was here.

“Hey, kiddo. Take it easy, alright? Don’t try to move…”

You registered the swollen redness of his eyes, the track marks through the dirt and dust on his face, the ragged breaths he took as he spoke in a frantic, low tone to FRIDAY.

He’d been crying? But why?

“Damage report, FRIDAY, what are we looking at here?”

His weary eyes found your own as one of his hands came up to gently brush stray hairs from your face. He hadn’t done that since you were a little girl.

“A medical nightmare.”

FRIDAY’s matter-of-fact tone cut through the moment, and your heart practically stuttered in your chest.

“Multiple contusions to the skull, including a fracture. The entire left side of her body is shattered, the hip… Well let’s just say a future in samba dancing is out of the question. Five ribs snapped, one of which is precariously close to puncturing the lung. She’ll need a knee replacement…”

You allowed FRIDAY’s gruesomely detailed report on your broken form to fade into the background, as your bleary gaze took in the array of faces above you.

Behind your father, Peter looked ashen. Rhodey eyed you with obvious concern, but kept his demeanour calm, probably for Tony’s sake more than his own.

To your left, Steve knelt within arm’s reach, his glassy eyes fixated on you and obvious horror in his expression. Bucky stood just behind him, steely gaze set on the ground, a single tear drop rolling down his cheek. Sam stood next to him, offering you a sorrowful expression as he rubbed his neck anxiously.

Nat and Wanda were knelt at your head, both offering you reassuring smiles that were only betrayed by the terror in their eyes.

You were in a bad way, that much was obvious.

“Where… T’Challa…?”

You mumbled through the blood pooling in your mouth. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Sam spoke up, trying for a smile as he did.

“He’s around, Scott and Vision took him to try and find a first aid kid, give you and your pops some space.”

You nodded, understandable.

It wasn’t T’Challa’s fault, of course. But you doubted your father saw it that way right now.

“What… Happened…?”

It was Steve who spoke this time, his voice cracking with emotion.

“The concrete slab… None of us could get to it in time. Tony… Your dad and Wanda got it off within seconds… But…”

Bucky took over for him as Steve, overcome with emotion, trailed off.

“But the damage was done, Stark. You weren’t breathing when we got to you…”

The world tilted around you as oxygen became harder to take in.

You stopped breathing?

You were dead?

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Your father’s voice cut through your panic; the cold metal of his suit hand replaced with warm, comforting flesh.

“You’re going to be just fine, sweetheart. Okay? Nat’s calling in a medevac as we speak, we’re going to get you back to Stark Tower, fix you up good as new, you got it?”

The pain, worry and exhaustion in Tony’s voice was unmistakable.

But you felt comforted all the same.

Your dad would fix you up, just like he said. Fixing things was what he did best, after all.

You gave him a weak smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

After a moment’s pause, you cleared your throat, your voice a barely-there whisper.

“Hey… Dad…?”

Tony scooted closer to you, his eyes flashing with renewed concern as his grip on your hand tightened slightly.

“What is it, kiddo?”

You took in a shaky breath, glancing around the group before your distant gaze came to meet your father’s one of terror.

“I was just… Wondering… You think now maybe… Maybe…”

You trailed off, a small coughing fit racking your wounded form.

“Maybe what, sweetheart?”

Tony gripped your shoulder, trying to steady you, fear undeniable in his expression.

“Maybe… Maybe... Maybe you and Steve could just talk this out like grown ass men so I can get patched up and we can all go for shawarma and call it a day…?”

A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes, and you offered your father a sharp toothed grin, which came across somewhat comical given your missing tooth.

Your father stared down at you, an ensemble of emotions crossing his face one after the other.

Shock, confusion, exasperation, anger, more exasperation, before finally his face split into a tired grin, and he chuckled.

Around you, you heard the chuckles and snorts of your fellow Avengers, the tension practically evaporating from everyone’s shoulders as you glanced around, wheezing through your own giggle.

Tony eyed you suspiciously, before looking up at Cap with a sigh, then back to you.

“Yeah, kiddo. I guess we could talk this out… Civilly…”

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 5 years ago

Text

The Switching Hour

A/N: it’s been just over a week since halloween but i finally got this piece done and i’m quite happy with it! :D i hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome and cherished!! ilyyyy

masterlist | ask

word count: 8.4k

content: dramatic perfectionist demon!h, fluff, and a lil bit of smutty sexual tension

preview:

Her voice chimes up, prickly with annoyance and just the slightest bit of awe. “Are you always this picky when it comes to your Halloween costume?”

Harry rubs the material of a Jack Skellington pantsuit between his thumbs and forefingers, humming in absentminded disapproval at the flimsiness of the fabric. “Always.”

“Why?”

He drops the article of clothing, watching it sway back and forth on its hanger for a second before glancing up to meet her irritated expression, answering with a prideful undertone. “Because Halloween is the best holiday of the year and I’ve built quite the reputation for myself amongst my group. I always outshine and I tend to keep it that way, darling.”

Y/N rolls her eyes lightly, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “Right, I forgot how competitive you are.”

“Actually, I like the praise,” Harry gives her a slow, sultry once-over, lips buckling with a sly smirk, “but you already knew that.”

Her arms tighten instinctively across her body.

Harry goes back to filtering through hangers, scrunching his nose in distaste at yet another Dracula ensemble. Drac never even wore a cape, he preferred tapered vests. He was the one who taught Harry how to style flared pants centuries before they came into fashion. With the way humans stained his cherished outfit designs, he’d be rolling around in his grave right now if he had one. He wasn’t even a vampire— just a crossroads demon with a very peculiar taste in beverages.

Y/N toys with the visor of an astronaut helmet, staring at her warbled reflection in the grey plastic and sighing with defeated boredom. “Why don’t we just get the Purge masks and go?”

Harry gives her a look of incredulous disdain. “And cover up one of my most prized assets? I’d rather let a hellhound disembowel me again.”

///

Harry was aiming to be an angel.

Well, not literally. Hell forbid it, in his opinion. Most of them are wound so tight, they wouldn’t be able to fly if they tried.

Plus, he actually quite enjoys being a demon. Immortality, flexible work hours, free range of the human world, and not to mention a pretty sick gig with the sorcery. It’s a sweet deal, once you get past the decades of excruciating torture and training, of course.

So no, he’s not aiming to be a literal celestial being. Rather, he’s planning to be one for Halloween on behalf of Y/N’s approach to switch identities as a couple’s costume.

The idea had stemmed from when they had been walking around Party City a few days prior, trying to gain inspiration for the annual costume party a friend of Harry’s is hosting.

Y/N hadn’t really been keen on going, despite the invitation being extended to her through Harry. She felt like she never really fit right with her boyfriend’s inner circle and it was for an obvious factor: they were all demons.

She’d only ever gotten along with one demon before (granted, she’d only ever put effort into befriending this single one) and she was perfectly fine with that number. It isn’t that Harry’s friends treat her coldly in any way (they were pretty welcoming, much to her surprise), but she could practically drown in the awkward tension that milled whenever they had to interact. She stuck out of place in a painfully obvious manner and she refuses to force herself into bonding with them; it would just make the situation a whole lot worse.

The connection remained as a polite acquaintanceship, and from what Y/N could tell, both parties are more than happy for it remain as so.

Either way, Harry had managed to sway her into accompanying him. She wanted to give out candy to the children from the complex and he wanted her to be his plus-one, so a compromise was settled. They would hand out candy from six in the evening until eight, then get ready and leave for the party at nine.

After agreeing upon the terms, they’d spent well over forty minutes in pursuit for their costumes at the store.

The choices they had weren’t very compelling, according to Harry.

He outright refused to be a vampire, warlock, or werewolf— the overuse of the genres made them tacky. He’d rather be caught dead (a second time) than have to wear a cowboy hat, so that was a bust on Y/N’s part. No aliens, no zombies, no Frankenstein (which he filed under zombie and it was an entire five minute bicker session between them before Y/N finally let it go with an exasperated sigh).

No superheroes. He’d cycled through all of them already, including Black Widow. He looked great in a bodysuit, if he does say so himself.

Historic figures were a bore considering there isn’t anything truly scary about King Tut, other than his crippled foot and untimely demise. Animal costumes are for children, as well as ghosts and ghouls. Mummies were too messy.

Due to his selectiveness, they ended up circling the store five times, coming up empty-handed. Y/N had stopped giving him suggestions after he’d used a release spell to make her drop the Elvis wig she’d been inspecting.

Her voice chimes up, prickly with annoyance and just the slightest bit of awe. “Are you always this picky when it comes to your Halloween costume?”

Harry rubs the material of a Jack Skellington pantsuit between his thumbs and forefingers, humming in absentminded disapproval at the flimsiness of the fabric. “Always.”

“Why?”

Y/N rolls her eyes lightly, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “Right, I forgot how competitive you are.”

“Actually, I like the praise,” Harry gives her a slow, sultry once-over, lips buckling with a sly smirk, “but you already knew that.”

Her arms tighten instinctively across her body.

Y/N toys with the visor of an astronaut helmet, staring at her warbled reflection in the grey plastic and sighing with defeated boredom. “Why don’t we just get the Purge masks and go?”

Harry gives her a look of incredulous disdain. “And cover up one of my most prized assets? I’d rather let a hellhound disembowel me again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He pulls a pirate costume out from the metal rack, eyeing it judgingly. “You don’t get crowned best costume every year without being dramatic.”

The outfit holds a decent aesthetic with the passable material and colorful gems. The embroidery on the cosmetically tattered vest holds up and there’s no stingy parrot accessory in sight, though the cheap plastic sword is a bust. He’ll have to rummage through his storage and find a real one (probably the one he used during the American Revolution). If he’s lucky, maybe it’ll still have some dried blood on it.

With a bit of smudged black eyeliner and a pair of silver hoop earrings, he just might strike gold at the party.

Best of all, the costume gives him an excuse to show off his broad chest (not that he needs one, but the fact that it adds to the genuinity of the look is a win).

“Harry, look.”

The giddy hilarity in Y/N’s voice draws his attention upwards from examining the purple buttons on the potential candidate.

She’d clad herself in a bright red glittering cape that goes down to her knees, the button of the collar a large pentagram and perched atop her head is a pair of bedazzled devil horns about five inches in height each. In her hand she holds the rest of the costume— an attachable pointed tail and a three foot tall blood red pitchfork.

“What do you think? Kinda reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.” She looks up in faux thoughtfulness, tapping her chin for effect.

Harry’s cheeks twitch with a grin of endeared amusement, dimples blinking. “I think you look absolutely adorable. Although...”

He trails off as he drift towards her, tugging lightly at hem of the cape, looking past his girlfriend towards the array of other devil costumes. He reaches for another, pulling it out and holding it up for consideration, shrugging his brows suggestively. “I think I’d rather see you in this skimpy little red dress and fishnet stockings.”

Y/N’s eyelids droop into a stern scowl. “And I’d rather not have my ass hanging out in front of all your friends.”

“That’s the whole point, minx.” Harry holds the hanger up in front of her, humming admirably as an image swipes over the front of his eyes of her prancing around in a pair of glossy red-bottom heels, a pentagram choker, and some bold cherry-colored lipstick. “Just wanna show off my girl.”

Y/N shoves the garment back towards him, tone cocky and pointed. “If you like it so much, why don’t you wear it, then?”

He lowers his arm, slinking his head slightly to the side and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, the edges of his mouth twitching cheekily. “I don’t think all my bits and pieces would fit inside these stockings properly.”

She unclasps the pin that holds the cape closed, pushing it off her shoulders as she sing-songs her words teasingly. “Won’t know until you try it.”

Harry puts the articles of clothing back into their designated spot. “You’re no fun.”

His focus dances to a few hangers down, a random twinkling nabbing his curiosity. He moves the surrounding pieces away with the back of his hands to get a better look, a smile creeping across his face at the fit.

“Hey, babe. What d’you think of this one?”

Y/N glimpses up from fiddling with the bendy devil tail, scoffing in entertained delight at the sight before her.

Harry stands with his elbow propped on the top of the metal clothing rack, his legs crossed at the ankles with the tip of his worn tan boot tapping at the sleek black floor beneath it. He’s decked himself out in full angel attire, a light-up, wire-supported halo flashing brightly above his head, alternating patterns between quick bursts of yellow light and longer, drawn-out fading. The wings across his back span about four feet in total, strewn with white and gold holographic feathers, some covered in glitter.

“I think you look dashing.”

Harry pushes off the metal rail, the whole set-up quaking a bit under his strength. He ambles over until he’s right in front of his girlfriend, holding his arms out to his sides grandly. “I think I look dashing, too.”

He then turns his torso to the side, propping his chin on his shoulder and batting his lashes, going for a faux effect of adorable pureness. “Personally, I feel like I’d blend right in.”

His eyes suddenly ink black, dark veins protruding under his waterline and snaking their way down his cheekbones. “I’m as innocent as they come.”

Y/N glances up at the ceiling with pretend mild annoyance, irises focusing back on Harry with the left corner of her lips curved, her sentence deadpan. “I beg to differ.”

Harry drops the act, a look of insulted shock painting over his features as he carefully removes the halo headband from his quiffed curls. “You don’t think I’d play off being a good angel?!”

Y/N reaches over his shoulder and gives the tip of one of the fluffy wings a signifying tug. “Frankly, I don’t think you’d get past the gates. You’d get smited on sight.”

He gently grabs the hand that was playing with a gold polyester feathers, sifting his fingers between her’s and thumbing over the back of her knuckles temptingly. He cocks his head sideways a tad, stepping forward until his chest is ghosting over Y/N’s, the air of his sultry words just barely caressing her lips. “Maybe you could sneak me in, then?”

Y/N squeezes his digits playfully, snorting softly. “And why would I do that? So you can wreak havoc in the dining hall?”

Harry releases a boyish giggle, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his nose scrunches. The childish grin slowly melts into a brazen smirk, teeth gnawing at the inside of his lower lip as some very explicit scenes bounce around the inside of his skull. He shakes his head lightly, making a low mm-mm sound to hint that he has other plans in mind.

“Want you to sneak me in so you can take me up to your room. Show me around a bit— beginning of the universe memorabilia sounds interesting.”

“Yet something tells me prehistoric rocks aren’t why you’d want me to sneak you up to my room.” She gives him a knowing stare, the pad of her thumb toying with the glossy black surface of his painted index nail.

“Well aren’t you a clever little thing?” Harry leans in closer, his lip piercing grazing the skin along her jaw, settling nice and snug right against her earlobe. Her blood feels like it’s boiling.

His whisper send tendrils of electricity revving across her temples and down her neck.

“You’re right, though. Honestly, I just wanna fuck you on your bed instead of mine, for once. Make you whine and whimper for me to let you cum, all right under your dad’s nose. Make you stain your sheets and leave a few nail notches on your headboard.”

“Harry, we’re in public...” Y/N’s urgent murmur is warm against his neck, causing him to whine deeply in the back of his throat as the heat washes down his jugular, leaving his ears tingling.

His voice is thick and full of gravel as he answers. “I know, makes it so much hotter.”

He pauses his breathing for a heartbeat and Y/N gets the sensation that he’s analyzing her. She then feels him press a conceited grin across the back of her jaw, his two front teeth nipping at her earlobe tauntingly. His tone is heavy with arrogant certainty. “You’re wet.”

She digs her nails into his knuckles, looking down at her feet out of embarrassed instinct. “Shut up.”

He ignores her request. “I’d have to muffle those pretty sounds you make— we both know how loud you are. Would cover your mouth with the palm of my hand while I spread your thighs with my hips and fill you up with my cock until you feel it at the pit of your tummy. I’d run my lips across your stinging nose and hot cheeks, hushing you and mumbling dirty things against your skin. Telling you what a good girl you are for me and how tight and warm you feel. How good you’re taking me and how cute you look all sweaty and needy, trying to keep quiet so no one finds out you snuck a demon back home, all because you wanted to get your brains fucked out with everyone right outside the door.”

A sudden prickling slithers up the back of Y/N’s neck, her muscles tightening in heightened anticipation. “Someone’s watching us.”

Harry’s arm wraps around her waist, the hand holding the halo sliding over Y/N’s hip and maneuvering her out of sight of the prying eyes he can feel burning into his broad back, piercing right through the material of his leather jacket. He glimpses over his shoulder, catching a snapshot of the culprit peeping into their exchange: an elderly woman, partially hidden behind the black and orange tensile decorations, staring at them with disgust.

Harry mumbles a quick basic spell under his breath. “Dis.”

Push.

The aged woman spontaneously jars forward, stumbling out of sight down the aisle she’d been loitering.

Harry cranes his neck back towards his girlfriend, a happily satisfied smile staining his lips. “Took care of it.”

Y/N’s wide, astonished gaze leaves the empty space where the target had been, zoning in on her boyfriend with alarmed outrage. “You just shoved an old lady!”

His giddy grin immediately drops into a confused frown. “And?”

Harry didn’t think it was possible for her eyes to go wider, but she puts rest to his doubt.

“And?! She could be hurt!” She immediately slaps his hand off her hip, releasing their conjoined fingers and smacking her palm across his chest as a repercussion for his actions (though he barely feels it).

He rolls his eyes at her theatrics. “She’s fine! It was a light graze.”

“It was a satanic spell!”

“She was intruding!”

“Oh, and that warrants you pushing her down the aisle?”

There’s a halt in the argument, followed by Harry’s eyes darting across different points of Y/N’s face— her tinted lips, her creased brows, her slightly flaring nose, and her faintly glowing eyes. The look in them is intense and begrudging.

He hadn’t even realized his lips were parted in aroused surprise at her vehement outburst— she always looks so hot when she’s mad. He licks over them lightly, willing them closed and exhaling loudly through his nose. His eyebrows jolt upwards with salacious intent, the corners of his pursed mouth following suit. “Are y’gonna spank me for it, then?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” Harry pecks the tip of Y/N’s nose and steps sideways, purposefully leaving just enough space for Y/N to squeeze between his chest and the clothing rack.

A swift peek at the designated aisle confirms that the woman is indeed fine (just a little bewildered) and Y/N is finally able to move past it, though still grumbling condemnation.

She pulls at the thick clear straps of Harry’s fake wings thoughtfully. “We still haven’t found any costumes.”

“Speak for yourself. I think I’m gonna go as Captain Jack Sparrow over there.” He hooks his thumb towards where he’d hung the pirate costume while he tried on the angel props.

Y/N squeezes the cushioned bedazzled devil horns, an idea dawning. “What if we go as each other?”

Harry raises a single brow, intrigued. “Well, that’s an idea.”

“It’d be a cute couple’s costume!”

He removes the wings from his back. “I dunno. I quite like my pirate costume. I look great in black liner.”

Y/N pouts, though he doesn’t think she notices, which makes it all the cuter. “Pleaseee?”

He lightly tugs at the collar of Y/N’s striped t-shirt. “I could be persuaded...”

She huffs. “Why are you such a handful?”

He taps the pad of his index finger against the faint hollow at the center of her throat. “I’m more than a handful and you’re well aware of that.”

She forces herself to keep a tab on the electricity threatening to brim into her irises. “Please?”

“Say it again. Love the way your voice sounds when you’re begging.”

She narrows her eyes at him, irked (and slightly aroused, though she’d never admit it) at the way he’s being so crude. “Pretty please?”

The sensual touches at her neck halt, the atmosphere suspended for an elongated second. “Pretty please...?”

His tone suggests he’s waiting for her to utter something more, eyes waltzing with pompous appeal at the way she’s stroking his ego.

Y/N grinds her teeth, jaw muscle visibly ticking. When she speaks, her voice is low and timid. “Pretty please, Daddy?”

The amusement swimming in the amber specks around his pupils translate across the ends of his mouth. “Sounds like a plan. Cliché, but I’ll bite.”

She clears her throat to break the puncturing sexual tension. “We just have to figure out the outfits to wear with the accessories. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Harry smiles confidently, dozens of combinations of clothing already buzzing around his mind. “You leave that to me, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t disappoint. He brings the rest of their costumes home the next day after three grueling hours at the shopping mall, carrying two frosted plastic covers over his shoulders (as well as an exhausted yet triumphant expression) when he saunters into the living room.

Y/N falls in love with her fit before it’s even fully out of the bag.

It’s a two-part velvet design and it’s absolutely dazzling. The main statement piece of the garment is the actual pantsuit: flared cuffs that cut perfectly just below her ankles, the soft fabric a pigment mix between a bright red and deep maroon. As the eyes draw upward, the suit ombrés into a murky black; by the time one’s sight gets to the bando-style top, the color is solid. The accompanying second half of the outfit is a blazer, tinted the same shade of maroon and covered with carefully embroidered crystal clear gems, resulting in material that both absorbs and reflects any light that hits the jacket, giving it bewitching juxtaposition. The cuffs and grand folded collar are lined with elegant glittered lace— a small detail that makes a world of a difference.

The beauty of it draws attention, clutching it effortlessly and Harry knew it would match her ideally the moment he laid eyes on it at the store.

He even managed to work an aspect of his little skimpy dress fantasy into the mix: the red-bottom heels. They compliment the look down to the detail with the chic, dark glossy surface on top and the flashy red lining along the underside. The model of the pumps is sleek and tapered, made to give an air of sensual confidence to anyone who dons them.

He doesn’t regret a single cent of the thousands he’d spent— the way his girlfriend’s eyes are twinkling with enamored awe makes it more than worth it.

Y/N had been rendered speechless as she passes the pads of her fingers gingerly over the plush velvet, almost as if she’s scared it will disintegrate if it wrinkles. Her voice is a stunned murmur. “Jesus, Harry...”

“You like it?” He sets his own protective carrier down along the arm of the couch, the blurred plastic keeping its contents hidden.

She holds the top portion of the pantsuit up to her chest, trying to imagine how it’ll look with her hair and makeup done. “Like’ doesn’t even come close.”

Harry smiles shyly as he takes the spot beside her, chest fluttering at the notion of making her so happy, fingers rising up to mess with the hoop piercing hooked along his eyebrow— a bashful mannerism. “Good. Always love making your eyes glow like that. Metaphorically speaking.”

Y/N laughs lightly at his joke, face shimmering with a certain loving warmth that makes his insides stir.

Harry drops his hands into his lap, leaning a bit to bump her shoulder jestingly with his. “Where’s my thank you?”

Y/N returns his gesture, hugging his gift to her stomach gratefully. “Thank you. You spoil me rotten, honestly.”

He ducks his head down to press a lingering kiss to her temple, inhaling her scent of lavender and cherry blossoms and baby powder and another odor he can’t quite place but it reminds him of a time in his life long ago when he was happy and fulfilled and loved. “I’d do anything for you.”

“You better stop before my eyes start glowing non-metaphorically.”

Harry’s full-hearted chuckle chimes the air like a thousand bells. It dies down slowly, his forehead pressing against her cheekbone, the tip of his nose brushing across her skin in a caring manner. When he speaks, his voice is gentle and raw. “Can I have a kiss?”

Y/N bobs her head, craning her face towards him, their noses bumping. She flushes her forehead to his, gazing deeply into his irises as they twinkle with delicate admiration.

Contrary to the usual, there’s no lascivious teasing or suggestiveness in Harry’s behavior; just simple, subtle affection. And the fact that he’d asked permission makes it sweeter. It’s intimate moments like these that make her cherish giving love a chance.

She buttons her lips to Harry’s tenderly, feeling him sigh dreamily through his nose. It’s not a messy kiss, there’s no desperate sexual drive behind it. It’s homey and mellow, like a hug from someone long lost.

It lasts a solid ten seconds before Y/N draws back, dwindling the singular kiss into a dozen tiny pecks across Harry’s cheeks, nose, and eyelids until his face is puckering up at the feathery sensation, lashes fluttering open sleepily.

Y/N sponges her lips between her boyfriend’s brows with finality. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She attentively eases the cover back over her expensive present, zipping it closed and making sure the metal bit doesn’t catch on the cloth. She lays is out across her lap, already glancing over Harry’s shoulder investigatively, trying to make out what he had bought for himself.

“So what’s yours look like?” Her hand stretches out towards the costume with the intent of undoing the zipper.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Harry’s fingers come town over the top of her own, smacking them away humorously.

Y/N’s head reels back quizzically, insulted.

He shrugs his brows ominously, one of his large, ring-clad hands streaming across the bag protectively. “It’s a surprise.”

“That’s not fair!” She exclaims adamantly, though the giggles escaping her are doing a horrible job at backing her claim. “You got to pick mine and I can’t even take a peek at yours?”

Harry defends his secret with another playful slap at her insistent hand as it attempts to reach below his arm. “You know how much I love edging.”

Y/N slumps her shoulders dramatically, the weight of the mystery already itching the back of her brain. She doesn’t know how she’ll be able to put up with it for the next couple of days. “Can I at least see the shoes?”

Harry shakes his head, an evilly delighted simper coiling onto his face. “Nope.”

“Unbelievable.” She snips, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“‘Good things come to those who wait’ and all that.”

He’s having way too much fun with this.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him challengingly. “I’ll have my way when you’re asleep.”

He belts out a laugh. “Over my undead body.”

With that, Harry springs up from the couch, jetting towards the stairs that head up to the top floor of the condo, the forbidden costume in tow.

“Hey!” Y/N vaults up to chase him, well aware of all the possible hiding places scattered upstairs. It’ll take her ages to find it; by the time she does, it would already be past the date.

Harry has a decent amount of time ahead of her, his lanky legs taking the steps two and even three at a time, easily leaving her in the dust. How he keeps from slipping on his jack o’lantern socks is beyond him.

Y/N scurries up the spiral staircase after him, both of their airy giggling bouncing off the intricate metal railings and dark hardwood panels.

Harry stumbles into their room and slams the door shut behind him with a simple spell, the lock magically flicking shut. He’s laughing so hard his stomach aches, whipping around on his heels to keep alert as he backs into the room, picking his brain for a proper enchantment. He mumbles the invisibility incantation out of breath and half-snickering, but gets it out nonetheless.

“Fallax flamma, ignis de potentia, et in abscondito, ego ignire te evanescit.”

Cloaking flame, fire of power and concealment, I ignite you to vanish.

A blinding red and blue flame engulfs the entirety of the plastic cover, extinguishing almost immediately, leaving behind no trace evidence of the object he had under his arm moments ago.

And without a second to spare, the door flies open, Y/N rushing in with a victory elating her features. “Gotcha—!”

Her head swivels from side to side, confusion furrowing her brows as she takes in the image of her boyfriend’s empty arms, alongside his smug, self-satisfied expression. “Where’d it go?!”

Harry creases his brows to mimic her own baffled appearance, mocking. “Where’d what go?”

She ignores the dig. “You can’t possibly have hid it that fast! Not unless you used…”

Realization floods her face. “Cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s called using my resources.”

“Cheater!” Y/N reiterates, lunging forward and koalaing her arms and legs around Harry, sending him stilting back and crashing into the mattress, the duvet rising up in a puff of fluffy black cloth.

His back bounces three times against the bed yet she manages to stay latched on, her knees digging into his hips as her hands fumble to pin down his wrists.

He fights back, wriggling from side to side to try and shake her loose, kicking up his legs wildly in hopes of teetering her off. “This is wrongful punishment, I didn’t even get a fair trial!”

Y/N ducks down, running her soft lips over the spot where his neck meets his jaw, knowing full well it’s one of his most ticklish places. She whispers her words warningly. “Let me see it.”

Harry can’t help the high-pitched, half-suppressed laugh that escape him, jitters coursing through his bones, stemming from the area where her mouth rubs along his heated skin. He wills the bubbly shrieks to die down, teething at the ring that adorns his bottom lip, eyes alight with pure ecstatic energy. “No.”

Y/N shrugs off his refusal, her supernatural strength proving valuable as she manages to keep her boyfriend stretched to the sheets. “Fine, then. Guess I’ll just have to torture it out of you.”

Harry sticks his tongue out at her mockingly, the ruby gem piercing glinting in the faint, grey evening light streaming in freely through the large glass wall that overlooks the city skyline. “Guess you will.”

Her method backfires almost immediately.

Harry’s sneaky ways and matching inhuman strength accomplish to outmaneuver her. After a fair share of complaining grunts, palms slamming against cheeks, carefully coordinated pinches to side, and a somewhat harsh tug to her hair, she ends up splayed over the mattress beneath him, heaving shallowly as he traps her forearms against his chest, nimble fingers wrapped around her wrists.

Harry kinks his brows up boastingly. “How’s that, then? Taste of your own medicine.”

Y/N squirms excessively, but slipping free seems unlikely. “I could totally kick you in a really sensitive place right now, but I won’t.”

He calls her bluff, words sticky and warm against her chin. “It’s in your best interest not to considering you’ve taken a liking to bouncing on it.”

She yanks at her arms almost savagely, snapping her head sideways to avoid him taking a piss at her as her irises flare up a pale neon blue.

Harry ends up getting his way. The costume remains unseen until the night of the Halloween party, hidden in some tear in the universe where he knows she won’t be able to find it.

It remains in its magical alcove until Harry summons it out after his shower, hanging it on an unused towel hook on the marble wall.

He gives it a calculating once-over, chin propped on his loose fist, elbow supported by the wrist of the arm he has swung across his torso. He sways ever so slightly, the towel clinging to his hips dangling dangerously low on his structured pelvis. His wet curls caress the back of his neck, mopping over his small ears and itching his brows, resulting in Harry combing them out of his face with his fingers and sighing lightly.

He taps absentmindedly at the center of his plump lips, running the pad of his index digit along the ridges of his bottom one, feeling the smallest bit off since his piercing is lacking in its rightful spot. The things he does for the authenticity of the look.

The hand across his stomach clenches and unclenches thoughtfully as he chalks up the details of the full costume in his head, cracking each of his knuckles one at a time with his thumb as he dwells on his ideas. He can never seem to stay still when he’s plotting.

He glances down at his nails, smiling fondly at the white lacquer Y/N had painted on them to go with his theme. He knows the suspense has been killing her and it amuses him to no end.

Harry rummages through the bathroom cabinets, retrieving his hair drier along with his favorite mousse. Y/N’s makeup bag also makes it onto the counter, as well as his Dove Fresh Cucumber deodorant, cologne, and a pair of dangley pearl earrings he’d acquired as a gift centuries ago from a French noblewoman more than willing to give him what he wanted (in more than one sense).

He knows exactly what his costume is going to look like now and he doesn’t waste a second in beginning preparations.

On the opposite side of the door, Y/N thinks quite the contrary— he’s taking forever to get ready, the minutes wasting away just like her patience.

The plan had gone as intended, to an extent. They’d handed out candy to all the children that had come and she’d even weaned Harry into buying a cute jack o’ lantern bowl to set the mood. She enjoyed seeing all of the creative costumes the kids had conjured up; she thinks her favorite was probably the ten year old girl dressed like Thanos from the Avengers movies. Y/N’s favorite part had been the gauntlet, which had carried different colored Jolly Ranchers in place of the Infinity Stones. Quite clever, if you asked her.

There was an incident with a twelve year old who gave them attitude for their choice in the candy they gave out, but Harry handled it before Y/N could even react. He’d crouched down to her level, mumbled something unintelligible, and then from what Y/N could see in the split second that it occurred, flashed her his demon face. The preteen fled without a single word.

He had pushed himself back up with his palms to his knees, brushing past Y/N into the apartment, grumbling under his breath. “Entitled miscreants.”

No more kids ventured towards their door after that.

She had been the first to get ready, well aware of how long Harry tended to take when preparing himself to go out.

He casually suggested that it would go by faster if they showered together, not to mention it’d “help the environment and what not,” though she knew his intentions would likely set them on a detour. He was playfully insistent, however, and she ended up having to shove him out of the bathroom with his underwear already half off.

After she had cleaned up and blow dried her hair accordingly, she left the bathroom to him, deciding to finish getting ready in the bedroom to avoid being late (and also because she knew he wasn’t going to let her see him putting on the costume).

“I know we have an eternity to live but try not to fill it all up with your showertime.” She’d quipped as she drifted past him on her way out of the foggy, humid washroom.

A sudden tug at her towel had sent her hands fumbling, just barely managing to keep her chest covered. Harry’s snickering had bounced off the shell of her ears. “I make no promises.”

Now Y/N sat on the large bed, distractedly rocking her heels back and forth against the thick-carpeted ground, running her fingers over the silky velvet fabric of her flared pantsuit as it bunches around her thighs.

She isn’t one to brag or boast because she had been wired to be humble, but she doesn’t think she’s ever looked better. The suit fit her perfectly, all of the seams and cinches falling exactly where they should. The jacket was loose enough to be comfortable but snug enough that it hugged her shoulders properly, not to mention the inside was made of velvet, as well. The wide-legged portion of the fit stopped just below her ankles, giving away to the shiny, midnight-tinted glassy shoes. She’d practiced her walk for about ten minutes.

Her hair is parted to the side, the front section pinned back from her face to showcase the makeup she’d applied. She’d tightlined her eyes with black kohl eyeliner and a red lip pencil she’d had to make due with (which she’d ducked into the bathroom to get, disappointed when she didn’t see the familiar plastic covering hanging anywhere along the walls) and applied the bright red lipstain Harry had gotten for her.

Around her neck lays a delicate gold chain, Harry’s large ruby ring glittering at its center. He always loved seeing something of his on her and he always joked about how this specific act was a vintage antic that dated back to the nineteen twenties; girlfriends would wear their boyfriend’s rings around their necks as a symbol of love. The first time he’d mentioned it, she had fallen head over wings for the idea— fallen for its simple yet deep meaning. And it just confirmed to her that under the layers of the hard exterior he donned, Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart (despite the fact that his no longer beat).

Y/N thumbs over the big stone encapsulated in the aged gold band, sighing restlessly through her nose as the pattering of the water echoes through the walls of the bedroom. He’s probably taking this long on purpose and she has half a mind to stalk in there and drag him out by his wet curls, but she refrains. His surprise better be worth it.

The water spout creaks to a stop, the only sound resonating in the bathroom being Harry’s faint humming to Thriller as the door to the shower cracks open loudly. Fucking finally.

Y/N scampers onto her feet, nearly breaking an ankle as she forgets her choice in shoes. She heads towards the washroom door with an attentive stride, rapping her knuckles on the wooden door lightly, voice tinged with irritation. “Are you done?”

Harry chimes back, tone full of airy, cocky humor. “Not quite. Still balls-naked, but I suppose I could go like that, if you want me to. Don’t mind it.”

“Just get dressed already, would you? You’re taking forever.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of being ‘fashionably late?’”

Y/N growls in exasperation, crossing her arms and pacing back and forth in front of their bed, trying to reign in her nerves. Going to a party where she barely knows anyone is bad enough, but Harry isn’t easing her woes any by being a little shit.

On the other side of the wooden door, Harry is finger-combing mousse through his hair as he harmonizes to Monster Mash, twirling strands here and there around his index finger to accentuate the ringlets just the way he likes. He flips his head over, mussing up the roots to ensure the soft volume and fullness he’s so known for. He always takes his hair seriously— a residual mannerism from when he had it shoulder-length for almost a decade.

Blow drying doesn’t take long and he’s buttoning up his top before he knows it, leaving the last three buttons undone to expose his swallow tattoos and upside down cross necklace, the antennas of his butterfly inking peeking out from the edge of the open shirt, along with the curved tips of its wings.

He fishes out a couple of products from Y/N’s cosmetics pouch as he wiggles his toes into his new shoes, zipping them up with finality and leaning in closer to the mirror for the makeup application.

Once he’s finished and everything has been returned to its rightful spot, he spritzes a few pumps of his Tom Ford cologne across his flexing necking and down his jaw, capping it and giving himself a thoughtful once-over in the mirror. He’s proud of what he’d achieved.

He murmurs a spell, retrieving the halo and wings from the magical storage facility he’d placed them in, fitting them onto his costume and humming in approval.

The door to the bathroom swings open, startling Y/N enough to trip up her angry loitering.

Harry steps through the frame of the door, completely decked out in his attire for her to witness in its fully glory. “Let the switching hour begin.”

Y/N can’t stop her jaw from dropping in astonishment.

Harry looks incredible— breath-takingly ethereal, to say the least. She scans the look from bottom to top, taking in every detail slowly, feeling almost as if time had slowed down around her.

It starts with the footwear. They’re a pair of glossy, bright white heeled boots, silver metal tips adorning the front of the shoes. She’s never seen anything like it and knowing how dramatic Harry can be, she wouldn’t be surprised if they’re custom.

The boots disappear under the flared cuffs of the off-white, wide-legged pants he is sporting, the fabric ironed and crisp, complimenting his height. They’re high-waisted, ending just above Harry’s navel, the front embellished with two parallel rows of gold buttons, each engraved with a capital, Roman-font letter G that glints under the soft, buttery low light of a single lamp.

His top is probably the statement piece of the layout. It’s a baby blue long-sleeved button-up blouse with a frilled collar and cuffs, the buttons decently-sized opal crystals that shimmer holographically with every movement. The fabric of the cloth presents a similar effect, the material frosty and see-through with reflective, multi-colored sparkling fibers sewn in. The shirt is tucked into the high waist of Harry’s pants, fitting loose and flouncy around his torso, the twinkling faintness of the thread juxtaposing the darkness of his tattoos in an unexpected yet flattering manner. It hugs his shoulders and back tightly, muscles rippling the cloth in a way similar to how a stone wrinkles the surface of a still lake.

The layers of the collar ornament Harry’s sharp jaw and grace the intricate pearl earring dangling from his right ear. She takes notice of the inversed cross necklace resting at the center of the valley that is his chest, glinting with a type of poetic irony. His fingers are garnished with his usual plethora of rings, his two blocky initials hugging his second middle finger and pinky amidst an array of gems and carvings.

Though the dazzling clothes and expensive jewelry are eye-catching, Y/N can confidently say Harry’s makeup is the real caviar of the entire look.

White liner runs across his waterline and over the crevices of his top lashes, opening up his eyes and making the olive tone of his irises pop more than usual. Glitter has been strewn across the curve of his cheekbones and faded up onto his temples, the holographic flecks of pastel blue, baby pink, and snow white glued down securely and glimmering under the flickering light-up halo. The lustery specks have also been combed into his fluffy, soft curls with a dash of gel, twinkling like a billion little stars. Evenly-spaced rhinestones decorate along the curve of Harry’s thick eyebrows— a final touch of grandeur that pairs adequately with the rest of the accessories.

Harry lifts the palms of his hands upward expectantly, giving a slow twirl and showing off the glitzy wings (which mold into the look effortlessly). “So, what d’you think?”

Y/N puts all of the pieces of the costume together in her brain, attempting to process it all at once and being rendered utterly speechless. The broadness of his body— the thickness of his chest, how his biceps and back muscles strain the dainty material of the top, his towering height with the heels, his sharp, defined features— contrast the delicateness of the fit, but it somehow it works. It somehow makes heat pool at the pit of her stomach and makes her ears crackle with spurts of electricity.

All she manages to croak out is a quiet, tender, “You look pretty.”

This sends Harry into a round of light-hearted giggling, his smile more blinding than any of the flashy props he carries. He glances down, zoning in on the metal tips of his boots to avoid her noticing the blush invading his cheeks. He pushes it down, scolding himself for being so mushy.

He clears his throat lightly, giving a quick glimpse over her own costume. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Y/N instinctively looks down at her outfit, grabbing the excess fabric around her thighs and curtsying jokingly. “Thanks, my boyfriend picked it out.”

Harry tilts his head to the side, his two front teeth digging into his bottom lip, eyebrows jolting knowingly. “He has great taste.”

Y/N steps closer to her boyfriend, draping her arms over his strong shoulders, the corners of her lips twitching. “Yeah, but he takes centuries to get ready. That’s kindof a trade-off.”

Harry’s hands coast onto his girlfriend’s hips, squeezing jestingly as he draws her body flushed against his, the golden buttons of his pants cold against the ombréd cloth of her pantsuit. “He sounds like an ass.”

She wobbles her head from side to side as if mulling over his comment, eventually nodding in agreement. “He is.”

His jaw falls open into a shocked smirk, raising his eyebrows in silent objection. “Is that so? Why do you stay with him, then?”

Y/N’s palms glide down the taut muscles of Harry’s arms, the pads of her fingers pressing into his skin suggestively. “He’s got a few redeeming qualities.”

Harry’s heavy lashes dust over the tops of his cheeks, catching a few stray particles of glitter that shimmer alluringly in the dim lighting. His forearms suddenly tighten harder around her waist, pulling her so close she can feel his groin pressing into her thigh. His tone is slathered with arrogant self-assurance, the ghosts of the words dancing across her stinging lips and her eyes nearly roll back as whiffs of his intoxicatingly delicious scent numbs her sinuses.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Y/N has a hard time swallowing, feeling her voice lodge in her throat as he begins brushing his lips up and down her jaw. “I’ll keep that to myself.”

Harry chuckles deeply and she can feel the vibrations down to her bones. “S’okay, I’ve got an idea of what you meant.”

“You sound awfully confident.”

“I speak from experience.”

Y/N moves her face back a tad, noticing that her fingers had somehow ended up tangled in the chain of his necklace, tugging at it so hard it's bruising Harry’s throat. He doesn’t mind it— he liked the burn.

He ducks down further, wisping his mouth over her’s, groaning lowly in the back of his throat when he sees her lips are stained with the tempting red color he’d picked out. “Your mouth looks so pretty like that. Bet it’d look even better skimming down my chest and over my thighs.”

His hold has her leaning back so far she’s now balancing on the tips of her toes, her chest heaving slightly against his. “Bet it would.”

Harry reaches one hand up, cupping her jaw with his fingers, his thumb rubbing slowly over her bottom lip, watching the color transfer faintly. “Wouldn’t mind some of the glitter on my face ending up across your inner thighs, either.”

A small whine strains the back of Y/N’s throat at the image of Harry’s head ducking between her legs over and over, the white liner smudging under his eyes due to sweat while her damp skin rubs the glitter off his cheekbones, his ringed fingers clamping over her plush thighs as the light from the moon bounces off the glossy surface of the white nail polish.

Harry presses a warm, sloppy kiss to the center of her jugular, her knees quaking as heat surges through her veins. “Some of it on your fingers, too, from pulling at my hair.”

He slowly dips his thumb past her lips, it’s weight heavy on her tongue. She acts on impulse, closing her mouth around it and sucking drunkenly.

Harry’s teeth skim along the side of her neck, a breathy purr of, “That’s my good girl” simmering her nerves.

Her words are muffled and weak, but she manages to get them out into the open. “We’re gonna be late.”

It’s not that Y/N doesn’t want to because, fuck, she wants to, but she knows that Harry would leave her a disoriented mess for the rest of the night, and it’d be pretty obvious. The last thing she wants is his friends teasing her about it— the mortification would be eternal.

He sighs grandly against her throat— which nearly sends her crumpling to the floor— and reluctantly pulls away.

Harry knocks his forehead against her’s, his sparkly lashes dusting her eyelids as they barely conceal the puncturing sexual hunger glinting in the amber flecks around his pupils. “You’re lucky the pantsuit is a one-piece or I’d have you riding my face right about now.”

With that, he refixes her crooked demon horns atop her head, retrieving the cape, clip-on tail, and pitchfork from where she’d placed them on the bed. He tangles their fingers together and yanks a very hazy, unbalanced Y/N towards the door.

She stumbles after him in her heels, gaining enough footing to avoid rolling as they descended down the stairs, the sounds from both of their shoes pounding hard inside her temples. Harry hands her the rest of her costume, grabbing his favorite navy blue trench coat from it’s hook next to the entryway and shrugging it on, carefully working his hands through the sleeves to keep the frill detailing from bunching up. He pats down his pockets to make sure he has his keys, fishing them out with his index finger as he unlocks the front door.

He steps off to the side for Y/N to go through first, kissing her cheek chastely as she brushes past him with a tiny, soft, “Thank you.”

“Of course, darling.” Harry follows her lead, turning back to lock the door to their apartment, checking the knob the same way he’s done his entire life.

Y/N loops her arm around his as they walk towards his car, the chilly air rustling her velvet jacket and drying the light sheen of sweat that had accumulated across her hairline. The moon hangs calmly amongst the stars, illuminating the high points of Harry’s face in a very fitting heavenly manner, the soft sounds of chirping insects and hooting owls setting a comfortably spooky tone for the rest of the night. A few straggling trick-or-treaters are turning in for the night, exchanging happy halloween’s and heading towards their complexes.

The beeping of the car rings across the still air along with the quick flash of the headlights. Harry opens the door for Y/N, just as he’s always done, helping her get settled into the passenger’s seat. He then leans down a tad through the frame of the door, fingers tapping at the hood of the car, eyes half-lidded in a sly simper.

“Just thought I’d tell you in advance, you might wanna get the situation between your thighs settled before we get to the party. I’d be able to smell how wet you are from a mile away.”

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lvlyhao · 4 years ago

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「PART THREE: FAMILIARITY」

HUMANITY SERIES; Q.K

A/N: guess who forgot to update lol they’re whipped i just— also two surprise appearances hehfjfhsjh

important: i can’t think of anything??? the general warnings are in the masterlist if you wanna be sure none of them is a trigger for you!

word count: 2.8K

pairing: qian kun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

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Cussing like a sailor, you trudge towards the man, who's catching his breath by the sidewalk. His glance instantly darts to your face, about to say something. You cut him short, though, too disturbed by the fear that still clouds your every action.

“We have to leave while we can. Like right now.”

“H-how do you know I’m not infected?”, he asks, abruptly realizing something even more critical. "How do I know you are not infected?"

He backs away, then, gorgeous features closing off in hesitance. While he stares at you, you think his voice is much, much more angelic than you thought. It drips with uncertainty but is beautiful enough to make you forget how to speak for a minute.

"Uhm”, you clear your throat, now looking for your weapons. It's a good attempt at escaping his piercing eyes, but it dawns on you. He has quite literally no reasons to agree with what you were planning.

"I'm immune, actually. My DNA has some mutation that I honestly cannot explain that well. You", you pause, scanning his defensive form before going back to putting away your knives. "You are definitely clean. It's been over 15 minutes since I arrived: no walker bit you or you would have, at least, screamed. If by some chance it happened and I was not aware of it, I would have seen it in your eyes by now. It's the first part of the process", you grimace.

The guy stays silent while you speak, taking everything you say into consideration. You find it makes sense to him if his relaxed posture is anything to go by.

Finishing up with your arrows, you promptly head back to where you came from, assuming your companion is close behind.

“Wait!”, he trots, halting in front of you. “I… I don’t think I can go with you.”

You could say it's the dumbest thing you have ever heard, but your yell from earlier begs to differ.

“I can see you don't trust me, and you have no reasons to, but this is how rescue missions go. I see someone in danger, I do my best to get them away, and we go to my settlement, where we can hopefully be stronger by numbers. We can get there if we run." Your voice is borderline dull, almost like you have made that same speech 500 times in the past few days. It would have made him laugh, under different circumstances. Yet, he plainly breathes, running a grimy hand through his hair.

“It’s not that”, he peers around, lost. “I came to the pharmacy for medical supplies for one boy in my own settlement. He needs them as soon as possible, or I’m not sure I’ll be able to help him at all. Besides”, he tentatively lifts your dominant arm by the sleeve of your jacket, careful not to touch you. “We should clean that and put some bandages around it, even if I don’t have the time to stitch it up.”

You are not sure what part of his speech you should pay attention to first.

“You have a settlement?” The question bursts its way out of your mouth before you can think better, but he doesn't seem to mind. Lips curling into a proud smile, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Yeah, I’m currently the father of 6 children from the college I used to attend”, he snorts.

“That’s amazing! I’ve been mapping this area for some weeks now, and I never found anyone”, you smile. “I’m currently the parent of”, stopping, you count the names in your not-chewed fingers. “16 children? Around that. I swear there's a new name every time we make the roll call."

Studying his kind expression, warm under the red sunlight, you feel as if you could talk to him for hours. I'd never get bored. Your situation seems small, squeezed all the way in the back of your mind. It's clearly much less important than your attractive stranger.

Gasping quietly in realization, he sobers up. He pulls you by your jacket once more, just as delicately, and keeps you close.

“Listen, I understand you have people to take care of, but you said you could get there in time if you run. My boys are not too far from here. I think it would be safer for you to come with me for now, at least wait until morning. Otherwise", he gulps, "we will both be in more danger."

You reflect his words guardedly. You are painfully aware that the clock is ticking and each second spent here makes it a bit worse. When the sun goes down is when things get seriously nasty. The night would swallow you whole before you could get to the campus, and then your eyes would be useless. You wouldn't be able to see any walkers or even traps you came across. You'd be a sitting duck.

Sighing, you know your decision has been made.

I can only hope Taeyong forgives me for this.

With a curt nod, your free hand gestures for him to lead the way. He seems awed by how fast you agreed but decides against mentioning it. Instead, he gives you a gracious smile and goes on. He stands just past the crushed glass, where you can now see a coffee-coloured messenger bag on the once-white floor. Something seems to be fidgeting inside of it, and you stiffen.

Before you can ask about it, he drops your wrist. Picking up the bag gently, he cradles it to his chest and looks at the inside softly. He coos, speaking in a language you know to be Mandarin. That’s when it pushes out—the little, furry snout of a puppy, licking his hand and whimpering.

It's like your systems just crashed.

“You have a dog in your bag?”

Laughing briefly, he turns to you again. Cosy inside of the leather is a tiny Beagle, looking at you with bright eyes. You can't help but think it's ridiculously adorable.

“Well, not at all times. I found her wandering around here, but one of her ears was bleeding and she’s limping”, his voice lowers to a whisper, watching her with concern. “One of my boys is a vet student. I thought maybe we could help her.”

Choosing not to question it, you simply nod. The bleeding ear would explain why she stayed here even with the noise. Her hearing must be quite damaged.

“And I’m assuming the medicine or whatever you needed is also in there?”

He's serious once again, reminded of the primary reason for his trip.

“Yes, I placed it in separate pockets and smaller bags. We are good to go.”

A breeze swiftly races inside the barely lit building. It’s a warning of how fast the twilight is coming, and he takes it. His quick steps sound first, light on the ground, and he checks to see if you are coming. Understanding of his rush, you jog along.

“I didn’t forget about your hand, by the way. I know a safe spot close to here where we can stop for me to treat it.”

Staring at his broad shoulders, your breathing hitches as the throbbing in your fingers come back. Treatment would be useful before you have to amputate it, but...

“Do you know how to do that? Not to doubt your capacities or anything, but I can just clean it with some water later.”

Running to come up to his side, he playfully eyes you. He is moving so naturally along the streets you imagine he must know this route well.

“I am a med student. Uh, was, I guess.”

His striking traits are highlighted by the blue hour, hues of periwinkle ghosting over his nose, forehead, cheekbones and lips. He chuckles airily, and you are conscious of how surprised you must look.

“A med student. That’s pretty helpful, huh? I’m sure you care very well for your friends."

From the corner of your eye, you see pink spread over his face. He glances up to the sky, lost in his own head.

“I try to. Our youngest has just turned 20. I can’t imagine what it must be like to go through this at that age.”

You hum.

“I know how you feel. I’m watching over an 18-year-old”, sighing, you think back to the freshman dance student at the settlement. You pray he doesn't feel your absence so strongly, familiar to his tendency to cry.

Comfort sparks in the way your companion bumps his shoulders into yours, drawing you out of foggy thoughts. When your heart suddenly tries to break free from your ribcage, you swallow dry. Could I not find a worse moment to develop a crush?

Beating yourself over your feelings, you travel silently, sometimes admiring the starry skies. It feels nice to be like this, almost… at peace. Funny how you can feel that way around someone you barely know while touring a town full of bloodthirsty beasts.

“Ah”, he breaks the silence awkwardly. “I still don’t know your name.”

You wince at that, realizing you were forgetting about it. It's like I've known him for ages.

“Sorry. I’m Y/N”, your voice is soft, rivalling the autumn winds.

“Y/N... That’s a beautiful name”, he compliments, eyes finding yours. “You can call me Kun.”

You say his name out loud, testing it, and giggle. It feels nice in your lips.

---

The trip to the first hiding spot was fast, just a matter of minutes cruising under the starlight. The place is a dainty, small wooden cabin, right at the foot of the mountains that surround the city. All around you are bushes and fireflies, that blink over stray pieces of cars. How they got to here, in the forest, is a mystery to you, but then again, a lot of things do not make sense anymore. It's simpler to overlook it and get inside, plopping down on a rusty chair as Kun grabs a flashlight from a corner.

His hands work quickly, and with confidence, like medicine is in his blood. It's impressive, but, most of all, painless. His touch is even gentler than Tyong’s and feels warm against your cool skin. A tiny smile plays on your lips the entire time, watching him and the sleeping puppy discreetly.

After that, your wounded hand is snug against the white bandages and the sting lessened. You feel like you could go on for miles, but Kun only laughs and tells you to calm down. No way you two are running uphill to his house.

“Wait, you mean you guys live… up there?”, you point, and he follows your finger, contemplating the towering trees of the forest nonchalantly.

Seeing your dubious expression makes his heart crack a little. He understands how intimidating it is: the dark, unknown forest. Who could guess what lurks between the twigs, spying on the few, brave souls that dare cross their territory?

“I know hiding from zombies in the woods sounds a bit weird, but I promise it’s safe. They have a hard time traversing the trees because they’re so closely set. Also”, he studies the grass beneath his feet, feeling a mix of shame and hesitance himself. “We might have planted a few landmines around the perimeter.”

The sound you make then is something between a wheeze and a gasp.

“How did you…?”

“I preferred to not question when Yukhei showed up with them”, he breathes, sounding like a tired father. “There’s a protected path we’ll follow, though!” He makes a face at how he saved the most important detail for last. I have no idea what is wrong with me today.

But, Kun thinks, secretly relishing on the way you shine under the moon, if you’re scared, I’ll hold your hand.

---

The journey to his house is more serene than you guessed. There are no walkers you perceive. It's almost like this place is completely cut off from the world, far away from real danger. Although maybe that is just Kun's effect on you. You have not failed to notice how tranquillity seems to flow out of him in waves, wordlessly comforting your wild heart. It's nothing like you have ever felt.

I met him two hours ago.

Once again shaking off your feelings, you try to focus on the other things that surround you. The crickets, the faint crunch of the grass and fallen leaves, an owl, how smooth his skin could feel under your fingertips...

Oh my god, you cringe.

As you steady yourself against the trunk of an oak, your shoulders finally loosen. Not too far ahead, you can see something that resembles a ski cabin, surrounded by barbed wire, and with orange light pouring from the windows. The path you walk on is surrounded by sharp wooden stakes from both sides, but the place still feels homier than the campus.

You don't notice your grin until he smiles back, taking your hand in his and continuing the walk. You remain quiet until the ground changes from grass, pebbles and mud to beaten earth, and you stand right outside the fence. It's far taller than you, with the metal glittering intimidatingly. If the landmines had not made you feel safe, this definitely has.

Kun, still grasping your hand delicately, surrounds the house with an attentive look. He searches for something and stops a few meters from where you were. It’s always simple to find—the crossing point—and he spins to face you.

“If you don’t mind holding the bag, I can cross over first and then help you. Is that okay?”, he asks, looking for approval in your eyes.

Warmth takes over your heart at his caring nature, knowing he could have just gotten in and expected you to not hurt yourself.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

With no other words, you reach for the bag, and hug it against your chest, observing the sleeping dog in your arms. While you are distracted, Kun steps on the lower row of wire and carefully places his hands on the upper one, creating a space he can shimmy through.

He pays close attention to where the barbs were, but does it calmly, and gets to the other side with a small sigh. He then gestures to the bag, stepping on the wire once again, and passing it over with even more care than he had for himself.

The moment he takes the bag from you, you feel your fingers brushing. While you both pretend not to notice, the heat rushing to your cheeks speaks for itself. Neither one of you mention it.

Then, it's time for you to get in. You can admit you are a bit apprehensive. Kun’s frame is sturdier than yours, in general, and he was just fine, but the idea of sneaking through sharp thorns is not exactly exciting.

Kun seems to know what you feel, and gives you a sweet smile, hoping to calm your nerves. He places the bag on the ground gently, trying to keep the puppy asleep. The process, then, starts over.

One foot over the first wire, a hand on the upper one and the other stretched out for you to grab. The wind picks up abruptly, and you can't tell if you shiver from it or from the grip of his fingers on yours.

“No need to hurry”, Kun whispers, eyes trained on where your body is concerning the barbs. He, time or another, tells you to bend a little lower or higher, and pulls more at the cable. To your relief, though, all is well. After a minute of wiggling, you touch the other side of the fence and allow yourself to rest.

“You did good”, he praises, patting your hair kindly. You sort of feel like a kid, but maybe not in an unpleasant way.

Tardily letting the tiredness from the day catch up to you, your brain slows down, and your limbs ache. You had not noticed Kun was already up on his feet with the bag until a hand shows up before your eyes, a silent offer. You take it without a second thought, letting him pull you up.

From then on, your mind gave up on processing a lot of what you did. You were nearly sure you went up a row of stairs to a wooden deck, the floor squeaking under your boots. Your new friend still holds your hand securely, which you are thankful for when you trip on a loose board. His eyes examine you for a second, making sure you're alright before he turns to the door.

It is also made of wood but painted red and unyielding. Letting go of your fingers, he knocks 3 times, waits a couple seconds, and then 4 others. The house, so far still, erupts into hushed cheers and shouts. Kun can only shake his head, holding in a smile, and look up when the door flies open, candlelight spilling out. The slim figure that appears nearly throws himself in Kun’s arms, but freezes when he sees you and the bag.

“Y/N?!”

“Hendery?!”

“...You two know each other?”

---

final notes: don’t question the way the virus works. just don’t, ok

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years ago

Text

Do You Trust Me?

A/N: This is to celebrate 1K followers! Thank you so much, guys! Sorry it came so late! Remember requests are OPEN! This is based on the book/film, Nerve. Possibly might make this a series, I don’t know. I haven’t really had a lot of time to write unless you guys send in requests. Then I’ll make fucking time.

WARNINGS: Swearing, some intense themes, partial nudity (but no smut)

Summary: Welcome to NERVE. Are you a Watcher or a Player? Watchers pay to watch and Players play to win. Which will you choose? All you have to do is survive one night of daring acts and win prizes and fame unimaginable. It’s all or nothing. Literally. The next question…are you solo or are you going to pair up?

Genre: Thriller, Non-idol!au, Nerve!au, Action, Dystopian?, Idolxreader

Music blasted through the auditorium. I watched as my group went through choreography on stage. My choreography. This was supposed to be my last project as a senior. I spent hours in the studio coming up with the set only to be kicked out the day before the show.

My best friend, Jennie, jumped off stage as the music stopped. “Hey, don’t be so bummed. There are plenty of other things you could do tomorrow.” I scoffed and pouted in the faux velvet auditorium chair. “Yeah. What’s better than watching my own choreography I’m not performing.” Jennie aimlessly scrolled through her phone which was always wrapped in that stupid blue rhinestone case. She insisted it went with her style, which was true.

“Well, you could always sign up to be a Watcher. There is a NERVE game in Seoul tomorrow. I already submitted my prelim dare to be a Player. I’m going to ditch curtain call and play.” I shrugged. Jennie was obsessed with NERVE. She dragged me and my other friend, Seungmin, to her house last year to watch the Gangnam rounds. When it was announced the rounds were going to be played in Seoul, she was determined to become a Player. She said it was her path to fame.

“Maybe I should play. Just for fun not for those prizes. They seem like scams.” Jennie let out a bright laugh and smiled at me. “That’s funny, Y/n. You as a Player.” As her laughter died down she returned to her phone.

“What’s so funny about me being a Player? I could do it.”

Jennie dropped her phone into her bag and focused her attention on me. Most boys would be at each other's throats for this much attention from her. They all seemed to love her tiny figure with just enough curves to be flawless. Whereas I could never find the right outfit to hide my lumps but also hug my humps.

“Y/n, you know I love you,” she stated with a gentle smile. “But you can be kind of a pushover sometimes.” A pushover? Is that what everyone thought? “The show is a perfect example.” Did everyone really think of me as this shy doormat? “I just don’t think you have the same guts to pull off some of those dares. They can get dangerous.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Without even thinking about it I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the auditorium. Jennie and I had been friends since we were kids, but it was now clear to me she only thought of me as her little pushover sidekick. I just felt so angry. I sat against the wall of the school and looked up at the setting sun. What time was it?

7:58 pm, my phone read.

Suddenly an ad popped up on my phone since I was still using a VPN on the school wifi. NERVE flashed on my screen in bright neon colors with tempting prizes and a link to the site. I don’t know what compelled me to click the link but suddenly a video with an obviously animatronic voice was playing.

Welcome to NERVE. Are you a Watcher or a Player?

Are you a Watcher or a Player?

My finger hovered over Watcher, but then I thought back to Jennie and to events in the past few weeks that made me realize she was right. I was too much of a wallflower to even ask out my dance partner Hyunjin, let alone fight for my own spot in the show.

Without hesitation I pressed Player and a new video started playing with the same voice, only this time showing some weird clips or other players and some online jokes.

You have chosen...Player. NERVE is a direct democracy. Watchers decide your dares.

The two Players with the most Watchers at the end of regulation will advance to the final round, where the winner takes all.

Watchers can watch from anywhere, but they are encouraged to film live. So, don't be alarmed. There are three rules.

1. All dares must be filmed on the Player's phone.

2. There are only two ways to be eliminated: Fail or Bail.

3. Snitches get stitches.

Thank you for keeping NERVE a secret. Good luck Player.

"Well, this isn't shady." Another pop up came onto my home screen. Apparently, NERVE had installed its app onto my phone. A 'yes or no' option popped up that read: Are you ready to accept your first dare?

I pressed 'yes' and quickly filled out the profile information before the app took me to another screen with my dare and a countdown of 25 minutes.

Go to Java House and wait for a boy in a black, yellow, and white flannel shirt and jean jacket. Convince him to buy you a coffee.

When he goes in line, sing loudly and off-key 100 Bottles of Coke on the Wall until he gives it to you. Then dump it over your head.

Reward: $200

"Oh shit. I need a ride." Quickly I called Seungmin hoping he was still inside. Thankfully he answered. "Hey what's up-"

"Seungmin are you done with lights?" "Umm yeah, why?" I quickly told him what happened and hung up the phone waiting for him to come out of the building. The timer on my phone flashed 19 minutes and 23 seconds left.

"You're playing NERVE?" Seungmin yelled at me as he exited the building and we ran to his car. "Yeah, so what. Come on, we have 18 minutes to get to Java House."

The ride to the coffee house was silent. I was honestly glad that Seungmin was coming with me in case this guy I was meeting was a creep. "Why are you doing this again?" Seungmin said keeping his eyes on the road. "I don't know. To prove that I can cause apparently people only like and notice you if you are this confident and daring person."

Another silence momentarily filled the car. "You mean like Jennie?" I shrugged and checked the timer again. "You know I don't think all that stuff matters. I like people who are more soft-spoken, and sweet, and honest, and creative-"

"Seungmin we're here. Stop the car!" I said already taking off my seatbelt. He jerked the car into a parking space, but I was already halfway to the door. A glance at my phone revealed that I had arrived with 2 minutes and 51 seconds to spare. I heaved a sigh of relief and scanned the coffee shop looking for the boy NERVE had described.

"Geez wait for your friend much," Seungmin said coming in behind me. "Sorry, Min. He isn't here yet." Seungmin moved to stand in front of me. "Y/n, what if this dude is a total creep-" "That's why I have you, Seungmin." He mumbled something under his breath but the ringing of the Cafe doorbell sent my attention flying to the entrance.

A gorgeous girl, maybe college-aged, strut through the door. Behind her was a boy about the same age, with dark hair and plump cheeks, but when he turned his head to scan the shop his features immediately became as sharp as a knife. Silver earrings swayed with the movement of his head as a hand ran through his dark locks. My eyes looked down to find him wearing the yellow flannel and jean jacket. Our eyes locked and he smirked eyeing me up and down. He handed the girl his phone and she immediately started recording.

"Seungmin, that's him! Go over there and start recording!" I said shoving my phone into my friend's hands and shoving him to a booth. My hands shook as the handsome boy walked over to me, but I tried to channel how Jennie often looked when talking to guys. I pushed my shoulders back and held his stare hoping that my smile didn't look creepy or deranged.

"Are you Y/n?"

"What's it to you?"

"Well you, hot stuff, are a crucial part of my dare."

"As you are of mine." He chuckled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Look all you have to do is proclaim out loud what a great lover I am and then let me show my appreciation." I hoped my cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

I looked him up and down and then spared a glance toward the girl filming the two of us. "Fine, but only if you buy me a drink." "Sure." "Iced chai tea latte and quickly.....please." The last part I added as he walked away and he looked back and gave me a small smile. He stepped in line and I shut my eyes and began to sing very loudly.

"100 BOTTLES OF COKE ON THE WALL!

100 BOTTLES OF COKE! YOU TAKE ONE DOWN PASS IT AROUND, 99 BOTTLES OF COKE ON THE WALL!"

I continued to belt the song and I prayed that Flannel Boy would hurry the fuck up before I burst into tears. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. There was something about being the center of attention that just made me uncomfortable. It was different when I was on stage, but here....in real life....it was too much.

"61 BOTTLES OF-" Someone gently tapped my shoulder and I opened my eyes. Flannel Boy stood holding my drink with a gentle smile. His brown eyes had a kind look to them unlike earlier when they were filled with mischief. "One iced chai tea latte for the pretty lady."

I thanked him and without hesitating dumped the cold drink over my head with a small shriek. The liquid soaked my hair and shirt and the ice was painfully cold. I looked up to find him shocked and fighting back a small smile. It was one of those smiles that were out of complete surprise but you knew he wasn't laughing at you.

I heard the entire coffee shop gasp and some laugh and I didn't have to look around to know that at least a third of them had their phones out. It was then I remembered my part of the deal with him.

So as loud as I could I said, "This man is the best lover I have ever had!" A smile came over his face that reached his eyes and a hand came to rest on my waist, brushing up against bare, cold, tea drenched skin.

"Aww thanks, babe." Before I could react, he pressed his lips against mine. His hand came up to my cheek and pushed a strand of wet hair away. I couldn't help but melt. He pulled away leaving only a couple of inches between us.

"I'm Han."

"I'm Y/n."

"Yeah, I know."

"Sorry. The iced tea kind of fried my brain." I said with a nervous chuckle.

He laughed and pulled away further. "Oh, your shirt!" He said looking down and then quickly away. Looking down I saw I had forgotten something very important. I was wearing a white thin crop top with a black bra underneath for everyone in the crowded coffee shop to see. Panicking I crossed my arms over my chest and felt the heat creeping up my cheeks and ears.

"Here." Han swiftly removed his jean jacket and draped it over my shoulders, pulling it to cover my front.

"Han-ah! We got it, let's go." The blonde girl said leaning against a booth. He nodded in her direction before turning back to me. "I think your girlfriend wants you to go."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh-"

Without another word, the boy smiled and started towards the door. "Wait!" He turned at my call. "Your jacket?" With a small smile and a hand on the door he said. "Keep it. I'll see you in the Rounds, babe."

With that the two disappeared into the night leaving me standing in the middle of the shop, surrounded by the smell of coffee and something sweet. Maybe mint? Seungmin's voice brought me out of whatever trance I was in. "Y/n, it's 9:45! Isn't your curfew in 15 minutes?"

"Oh fuck!"

The two of us raced to Seungmin's beat-up old car and prayed that the traffic gods were feeling gracious. The minutes ticked closer to 10:00 and I got more and more anxious. If I missed the last night of this punishment caused curfew I would never have another taste of freedom for the rest of my life.

With three minutes to spare I opened my front door to find all but the kitchen lights off. "Y/n?" My mother called out. I sighed and trudged towards my mother's voice. She stood cutting vegetables for tomorrow's dinner. Her hair was neatly pulled up and out of her face, so her stern eyes could focus on the blade in her slender hands.

At some point, I remember wanting to look just like her. Sharp features, slender waist, and small frame. Some part of me still did. The part that hoped one day I would wake up and the fat on my stomach or thighs would disappear and my mother would be proud to say, "Look at my beautiful, daughter."

"Cutting it a little close?" I nodded and set my backpack down on the kitchen table. "There were some problems with sound. They lost our track." She could always tell when I was lying, so I prayed she wasn't doing her fucking C3P0 scanning thing to detect my dishonesty.

She simply nodded and continued chopping vegetables after looking at the time. "Whose jacket is that?" Her usually soft voice had an edge. "Oh, one of the guys spilled coffee all over my shirt and offered it to me." Well....it wasn't a total lie.

A deafening silence followed and I felt awkward standing in the middle of the kitchen. Deciding that two minutes was enough of dead silence and that the conversation was over, I turned over my shoulder and headed for the stairs.

"Y/n?"

"Yes..."

I turned back to find my mother looking at me with a kind smile.

"Thank you for being so patient with the whole curfew situation. You have shown me that you are responsible enough without one." Returning the smile, my tired body climbed the remaining stairs and hopped in the shower. My room was dark and the only light came from my phone, which I put on the nightstand. Crawling under the warm covers I pulled the device from its charger.

Account Deposit: $200.00

With a click, the screen shut off and I lay staring at the ceiling. Tonight was a night I certainly wouldn't forget but had no chance of repeating. I hated to admit it, but Jennie was right. The dare was fun while it lasted, but it wasn't really in my comfort zone.

My mind wandered to Han with his dark hair and lean figure. I wondered where he was. If he was doing another dare just for fun, or at home, going back to a normal life. Just like me.

My eyes closed and a heaviness fell upon them. The warmth of my room and bed surrounded me in a veil of security. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Han's eyes looking over at me, a smile reaching the corners.

In the darkness, while I slept soundly, a sound was heard. My phone vibrated against the wooden end table as a constant stream of notifications lit up the device.

Saturday. Today was supposed to be the day I performed my choreography in front of a huge audience filled with talent scouts and college recruiters. Sunlight streamed through my curtains hitting my very unawake face.

Run Away by Teen Top started blasting from my phone making me bolt upright. Running a hand through my messy knotted hair I grabbed the phone and cursed whoever was calling me.

Jennie

My hand suddenly felt very heavy and my entire body screamed for me to go back to bed and ignore her call, but I didn't. "Hel-"

"What the fuck, Y/n!"

"Jen, what's up?" I said hoping I wasn't now deaf in my right ear. "What's up? What's up. I'll tell you what's up. The fact that your little prelim dare went viral! What the hell were you thinking!?" My blood ran cold. Frantically I searched for my laptop as Jennie continued to scream at me over the phone.

"WAIT WHAT!"

Stuffing my phone between my cheek and my shoulder I logged onto the NERVE website and the first thing I saw was the leader board. I watched as the Watcher count by my user name skyrocketed into the thousands. Alongside it was a link to my dare. I scanned the leaderboards and no longer saw Jennie's name. She had landed the 8th slot earlier this week and was so proud. My eyes caught on the user in fifth place. Han's picture was placed next to the user @J.One. And just below him in sixth, was me...

"I can't believe you kicked me off the leaderboard!"

"Jennie it was a one-time thing really! I just wanted it to try it. I have no intention of competing in the rounds."

There was silence over the phone. "Are you sure?" Her voice was soft and I could tell she didn't believe me. I repeated myself once more and promised that I wouldn't do another dare. I hoped that set her mind at ease. "Who was that guy anyway?" Her tone was back to normal as if I had never upset her at all.

"I have no clue. His name was Han, though."

I smiled clicking my video. It was weird watching the two of us meet from someone else's point of view. I looked so obviously out of place next to him. "Was he a good kisser at least?" My finger moved over the mouse pad and fast-forwarded to later in the video. I watched as Han smiled and pressed his lips on mine.

"Yeah...he was." I couldn't hide the grin in my voice.

"Well too bad you'll never see him again. He looked way older than us anyway."

Taking a second glance at the screen I couldn't disagree. He was obviously way more experienced than I was. The video was hardcore proof. He definitely was at least a sophomore or junior in college as well. Once again Jennie was right.

"You still coming to the show?" Did I want to? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Was I going to? Yes. I absentmindedly scrolled through the comments at the video while Jennie talked. They ranged from serial killer perverted about my tits and wet t-shirt to angry hat comments for kissing Han, who apparently already had a fan base. The phone call ended and I was about the shut my laptop when the page refreshed with new comments. And at the top was a comment from Hyunjin, the boy who I've had a crush on since freshman year.

Didn't know you had it in you, Y/n! Nice shirt ;)

My face flushed a beet red and a grin spread all the way to my ears. My mother's shrill voice interrupted my daydream of Hyunjin actually liking me back. "Y/n! One hour until we have to leave!" What? Confused I looked at the time. "Oh fuck!" I had slept in until three in the afternoon. I guess all the stress and excitement for yesterday exhausted me more than I thought.

I jumped in the shower and dried my hair as quickly as possible. In record time I applied foundation, contour, and eyeliner before sprinting to my closet. Hyunjin is going to be there. Crap. Clothes flew across the room as I searched for something that would be in any way flattering.

I settled for some black high waisted shorts and a belt with a blue and white vertical striped button-down. Slipping on some simple silver accessories, and a choker, I checked the time. It had been an hour and five minutes. My mom would be storming up here any minute now.

I grabbed some chunky white sneakers and tied them tightly just as my mom burst through the door. "Y/n! Let's go! After I drop you off I have a meeting!" The two of us rushed to the car and hurried to the school. "Are you staying out after?" I nodded and looked out the window. "There is a party at Jennie's house after. If I can't get a ride from Seungmin, Jennie said I could stay over." She nodded and the rest of the ride was silent.

After dropping me off my mom dashed off towards her meeting and would probably end up working late into the night since I was busy. That left me to watch a show that I choreographed and was kicked out of.

By 7:30 the entire event was finished and I had little crescent marks on the palms of my hands. Had I been any stronger my nails would have broken through the skin. I gritted my teeth as I sent my congratulations to all the dancers I saw. I walked backstage in search of Jennie and Seungmin, who was honestly probably hiding from all the commotion.

"Have you seen Jennie?" I asked a passing my sophomore, I think his name was Felix. I remember him doing really well with my choreography. "Uh.....yeah I think she went into the dressing rooms like ten minutes ago." I smiled and congratulated him on a great show. It was quiet backstage. But being alone in a theater was honestly one of my favorite places.

My knuckles gently tapped on the dressing room door before entering. What I saw had me frozen in shock. Jennie had changed out her costume and into a tube top and short skirt. She was also wearing a Hyunjin like a scarf. They hardly even noticed me enter the room too busy with what body part to grope.

"Jennie?"

Tears threatened to fall as the two of them looked up. She didn't even bother to push him away. Out of the two of them, Hyunjin looked the most ashamed which was just a real kick in the metaphorical balls.

"Come on, Y/n. You didn't really think he liked you, right?"

Any normal person would scream at her or slap her or at least get angry with her. But I did none of those things. I simply walked out of the building passing a concerned Seungmin on the way. I ignored him and kept walking looking up at the ceiling, begging for tears not to fall.

Ding

Freezing in the middle of the hall I looked down at my phone to see a notification from NERVE. In the background, I could hear Seungmin catching up to me. With blurry vision, I opened the app.

Congratulations! You have qualified to compete in the live rounds where the prizes are bigger and the stakes are higher!

Do you wish to continue?

My hand hovered over the no button. Subconsciously still willing to follow through with a promise I made to my best friend who was currently giving hickeys to the boy I liked. "Y/n! What's wrong?" Me. I was what's wrong. It was time for a change. It was time to do what I wanted for once.

Just as Seungmin reached my side I pressed the accept button and another creepy video played, welcoming me to the official game.

"Y/n......please tell me you didn't just do that."

The device vibrated in my hand as a new notification popped on the screen. NERVE had sent me my first dare.

Go into the city. 41× ×××××××× Ln.

My heart jumped at the reward. It was two tickets and a backstage pass to my favorite band. I hadn't told anyone I was even looking at tickets! "Seungmin, can you take me into the city?"

His face held disapproval all over it. "Y/n, you cannot play this game! Some kid died two years ago! Don't you remember? Plus no one knows how the game is run. It's across so many separate servers that it's impossible to verify anything. They could suck up all your information they wanted to." I scoffed. "Min that was just some rumor. Also, I'll be careful with what info I give them." Seungmin was the smartest guy I knew, but like me, he played only in his comfort zone. "How far are you going to take this?"

Shrugging, my eyes looked over the almost empty lobby. Everyone had probably already headed over to Jennie's house for the after-party. "If they ask me to do anything uncomfortable or illegal I'll stop. I promise." He sighed and scratched the back of his neck clearly having an internal battle.

"Fine. But I'm sticking by you."

I smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the parking lot. The ignition started and I pressed ‘accept’, starting the timer. "We have 18 minutes to get to this address!" Min glanced at the screen and then pulled out of the lot at high speeds.

The two of us raced down the highway headed towards Seoul. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out the window admiring the Seoul skyline. Something at this moment made me feel so free. The wind blew through my hair and the world looked so big and bright.

We pulled in front of this huge building. The sign obviously stating that it was a haute couture department store. Everything in there was worth probably more than my life three times over.

NERVE congratulated me on the completion of my dare. A confirmation email was sent into my inbox with the ticket order and number. I screamed from delight! Seungmin and I stood outside watching expensive cars and people come down the street.

Ding

Seungmin came around the car to my side. Pulling up the NERVE app I read my next dare.

You have 17 minutes to find and try on this dress.

Reward: $850

Below the dare was a picture of a gorgeous black dress on a mannequin. Seungmin let out a slow whistle over my shoulder. "That thing must cost a fortune!" I ran a hand through my hair and nodded. Looking up the store stood maybe 15 stories tall. Finding that singular dress in ten minutes was going to take a miracle.

"Come on! We don't have a lot of time." Seungmin had already started walking towards the entrance. Before I could follow him my phone sounded again.

Ding

Looking down, I read the message. "Seungmin...." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. Innocent eyes looking back at me with a smile. Confirming that he would most likely follow me into whatever crazy shit I got myself into.

"You can't come." His face fell and he walked back to me. I showed him the message.

Ditch your techie boyfriend.

"Y/n, you can't seriously be thinking of doing this alone?" He could tell by my face that I was going to follow through. "I'm not going to let you do this by yourself. It's too dangerous!"

"Seungmin! I have to do this alone!" He looked away from me I could see a million things he wanted to say. Both of us were stubborn but he knew this was a battle he couldn't win. "Fine, but I'm signing up as a Watcher."

"Just don't sign up to film dares or they could say I'm cheating." He shrugged and got back into the car. "Yeah sure."

"Seungmin...." I placed my hand on his shoulder through the open window. "Thank you." He smiled softly and motioned for me to leave.

Clicking accept, the camera activated and the timer started counting down. I tried to keep my face somewhat in frame as I ran into the store. My eyes frantically searched for a store clerk. 1:29 had passed.

"Hey! Excuse me! Um......have you seen this dress?" She raised her heavily drawn eyebrow. "Yes, of course, I've seen it."

Really? You're really gonna pull that shit with me? "Where is it? Sorry, I'm headed to a party? In a little bit of a rush." She scoffed and pointed behind her. Clearly, she thought it was hilarious someone like me would even be in the store.

"8th floor." I thanked her and brought the phone back up a little bit to film less of a shit angle. I raced to the elevator but a check with the timer told me there wasn't enough time. "Oh fuck." Comments popped up tens at a time as I raced up the stairs. Bursting through the 8th-floor doors I scanned each mannequin looking for the black dress.

Thankfully I found it with 8 minutes to spare. I quietly tried to unzip the zipper. I was halfway there. Just a couple more inches.

"Excuse me, miss." I froze, a deer in headlights. "Don't undress the mannequin. I can see if I have that in your size." A man with quaffed hair and a matron suit said. He looked me up and down with a questioning gaze. He gave a forced smile when I told him my size.

"Could you please hurry? I'm late for a....uh...party." With a nod, he disappeared to find the dress. I let out a sigh of relief and prayed that he could find it quickly. I gave a quick smile toward the camera before picking up the tag on the dress.

"HOLY FUCK!" I exclaimed under my breath. The dress cost close to $2,000. Who would pay $2,000 for a black bodycon dress? I could get something like this for $20 online probably.

The man returned with the dress with 5 minutes to spare. He led me to a communal dressing room area in a half-moon shape with curtained rooms lining the walls.

Rushing into the far right one, I threw my phone onto the bench and angled the camera towards me. Throwing off my shirt and shorts I grabbed the dress keeping an eye on the timer. 1 minute left. I was thankful for the fact I wore a black bra and underwear seeing as there were so many mesh panels.

Writhing around like the demon from the Exorcist, I tried to close the zipper. I could see the timer counting down from 10 on the screen. Comments flooded a tiny section of the screen as I watched the camera capture all of my attempts to get the zipper that last inch.

With two seconds left I cheered and grabbed my phone stepping out of the dressing room. "I'm done!" I flipped the camera to show the mirror. However, no notification came telling me I completed the dare. I tapped the screen, still seeing comments coming in. "What? Come on! I totally finished in time." I sighed defeated.

Ding

Congratulations! $850.00 has been wired to your account.

Smiling I pumped my fist in the air like a dork. "Are you still doing okay, Miss?" The clerk said walking in. Immediately I straighten my posture and got rid of the goofy smile. "Yes, I'm doing fine." After the man walked away I let my hand fall to my side. The reflection in the mirror called me to look at it.

My eyes scanned over my body in the mirror from bottom to top. My white sneakers still looked the same but as I moved up my appearance changed. My legs suddenly looked nicer and curvier rather than large. The black dress hugged my hips and hid my love handles. It looked fantastic. A smile slid onto my face. I loved what I saw in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty.

"So, you come here often?" I joked at my reflection.

"Oh, me?"

"What's your email number- I mean uh- what's your uh- your number?" I cringed internally and physically at how awkward I was even in this gorgeous dress. The dress gave me confidence, but not enough to change the fact that I cannot speak. I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

"Well look at you."

I turned at the voice to find Han walking out of one of the dressing rooms. His eyes drank in my figure with a small smile of wonder.

"You look beautiful." He said crossing the distance. "You clean up quite nicely too."

He dusted off his blazer with a smirk. The white dress shirt underneath the gray blazer with black lapels was fitted to his lean body. The top two buttons were left undone showing the tan skin on his neck and collarbone. The fabric was tucked into slim-fitting cropped dress pants that made him look a little taller. However, similarly, Han's shows did not match his ensemble. The black Doc Martens on his feet should have clashed with everything else, but the whole outfit seemed quite him.

"Why thank you." Again his eyes wandered up and down my body, not in a sensual way, but more like in amazement. "We make quite the couple don't we?" He said with a smile as his hand wrapped around my waist. He looked in the mirror and stuck his other hand in his pocket.

I chuckled as he made funny faces at me in the mirror. But he was right. Standing next to him in the mirror I almost looked like I belonged there. Maybe a little awkward, but less out of place next to him. "What are the chances we both get a dare in the same place?" I asked with a naive smile.

Ding Ding

Both our phones went off at about the same time. He smiled as he read his dare. Looking at mine I couldn't help but do the same.

Let Han choose shoes to finish your look.

Reward: $350

Han flipped his phone to show me. His screen had a similar dare written on it. This had to be the easiest $350 I would ever make.

Complete Y/n’s ensemble.

Reward: Laptop and Recording Mic

“Milady, if you would come this way?” With an overexaggerated bow he motioned for the doorway. Taking the goofball’s hand we both headed out onto the floor in search of the shoe section.

Han knelt on the floor below me trying to unfasten the tiny buckle on a pair of women’s heels while he riffed in a terrible British accent. My camera stayed trained on him while his phone was propped up on a bunch of shoe boxes. Another string of cuss words flew out of his mouth as the strap slipped through his larger fingers. I threw my head back in laughter, looking around the store.

A flash of black leather caught my eye. A boy maybe a few years older than me was speeding through the aisle towards the exit, phone in hand. His blonde hair contrasted against his pale skin and muscular form. He wore all black including a worn leather jacket and dark ripped jeans. Gripped tightly in his hands were two bags with the store’s name branded across the middle.

“Ah HaH!” My attention was immediately brought back to the boy on the floor who had finally managed to undo the clasp. A shy smile slipped onto my lips as he slid the black heel onto my foot. Though I didn’t consider myself a girly girl, I felt like Cinderella. With my assistance, we fastened the buckle on both shoes and I stood in front of the mirror. Han panned the phone over my entire outfit.

“Gorgeous! I’ll take three pairs! One for the Hamptons, one for lounging, and one for housework.”

He snorted behind the camera and handed my phone back when NERVE said the dare was complete. After changing back into my old beat up Filas, the two of us headed back towards the dressing rooms. “Well, this has been really fun,” I said standing in the center of the room. He smiled, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it has.” There was a moment where we just looked at each other, and I swear I saw some sort of longing in his eyes. His eyes looked down to my lips for a split second.

Ding

“Oh, sorry. One moment.” “No, no. Go ahead.” I watched as Han pulled away, I hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. He scratched the back of his head and turned away from me. The notification was simply I deposit from my bank, but it brought me back to reality. “I should probably get...going.” Han turned back and looked at me with big eyes. I couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll see you around?” I smiled and started towards my dressing room.

“Hey, Y/n-”

“Yes?”

“You look really beautiful.” I smiled at him and hoped I wasn’t blushing too much.

The two of us then turned and walked to our respective dressing rooms. My smile disappeared when I saw the room empty. My stuff nowhere in sight. Getting down on my knees, I checked under the bench and behind it, as well as behind a potted plant in the corner. I started to panic, the choker on my neck suddenly feeling very tight.

I rushed out into the open. Maybe I had walked into the wrong room? Opening the curtains I checked the last three, of course, finding absolutely nothing. Was I going crazy? Returning to the original dressing room I started to really panic. Did someone really take my stuff? Maybe the clerk thought I left it here for too long.

“Y/n?”

“Han?”

The two of us met in the center once more. He had the same panicked expression written all over his handsome features. “You didn’t take my stuff, did you? As a dare?” I asked, trying not to let my voice get too loud. “What? No, of course not! All my shit is gone too!” My mind was reeling, trying to think of how to get out of this situation. “Fuck! The game is probably just messing with us. Or maybe it was a Watcher? I saw some out on the floor.”

“Han, what are we going to do? We can’t pay for these clothes and we don’t have-”

Just then the store clerk from earlier passed by in the hall. Han dragged me into a dressing room and closed the curtain, giving us privacy. He ran a shaking hand through his dark hair, completely stressed out. “What if we-”

Ding

Both devices went off at once. Sharing a look, we read NERVE’s next dare.

“No. No way.” Han said letting his phone fall onto the bench before turning back to me. “What other choice do we have?” His hands once again ran through his hair, a habit caused by stress, I could now assume.”I mean I knew that the Watchers were thinking about teaming us up, but this could actually get us arrested!” I tried to quiet his voice in case the clerk decided to walk by again. He seemed to calm a little when my hand came over his shoulder. I looked at my phone once more.

Leave the store.

Reward: New iPhone and free unlimited plan

At this point, I didn’t care about the prize. I racked my brain trying to think of any way out of this besides stealing. Though I did keep my debit card in my phone case, there was no way I could afford to pay for both my and Han’s clothes. Suddenly it hit me. “Technically,” He looked over at me, his eyes hopeful for any solution.

“Technically...it just says we have to leave the store,”

Han stuck his head out through the curtain, making sure the coast was clear. “Okay, are you ready?” He asked holding his phone tight in his hand. Thankfully NERVE didn’t put a time limit on this dare. With a nod, we both clicked ‘accept’ and ventured out into the open.

The air was cold and I felt exposed standing in just my black underwear and bra. I followed closely behind Han who held his phone up as casually as possible to film the dare. I had my camera on selfie mode and tried not to let the angle drop below my midriff. Just as we were about to turn a corner we ran into a sales clerk, who upon the sight of us, screamed her head off.

“Run!” Taking my hand, Han and I sprinted through the store racing in between racks in our underwear. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some people recording, they must have been Watchers. My laughter filled the air as we maneuvered between people and racks. With four floors left to go, I stopped Han and pointed to our left. “Elevator!”

Changing directions, we ran towards the elevator. Laughing I held up the camera and smiled before panning back to Han as he ferociously pressed the down button. He smiled when the bronze doors opened and pulled me into the empty lift.

An awkward silence filled the elevator as we started moving down. An embarrassed laugh left my lips as we looked at each other. It was so hard not to look at him. Never in my life had I seen a more perfect body. His skin was golden and his stomach had subtle lines of muscles defining it. He scoffed his shoes on the tile floor obviously struggling to look anywhere but in my direction.

He opened his mouth to speak to me, but the elevator doors opened to reveal a middle-aged couple. Their jaws dropped as we stared at each other. "Okay, bye!" I screamed grabbing Han's hand and sprinting out of the elevator.

As we traveled down the escalator, going against the movement of the device, we heard staff chasing us. The second our feet touched the floor we sprinted past customers who stood in utter shock at the scene before us.

Bursting through the entrance doors we spilled out onto the street only to be met with a huge crowd of Watchers filming us. Cameras flashed as we pushed through the crowd across the street. Han led me to a motorcycle that was parked near the curb.

"What's this?" He said picking up two bags hanging off the handlebars. I grabbed one of the bags to pull out the dress from earlier. "Oh my god! Are these stolen?" I whispered, stuffing the dress back in the bag. Han searched his bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

"No, receipt. We're good."

"Who could have paid for all this?"

"Probably one of the Watchers with daddy's credit card."

I chuckled and slipped the fabric over my head. I felt better finally being covered in clothing. Han quickly buttoned his pants and slipped his arms in the sleeves of his button-down. "Could you zip me real quick?" Seeing him nod I turned around and felt his warm hands brush against the skin of my back. When I could feel the cool strip of metal fully closed against my skin I turned around, thanking him with a smile.

Ding

I pulled out my phone while Han finished buttoning his shirt and pulling on his jacket. I screamed with joy as the notification enlarged on my screen.

"Who 3fanxy's in here!" I smiled thinking of one of my favorite songs. NERVE had given us an extra prize since our Watcher count had gone up 5,000 viewers. Han and I were now in fourth and fifth place.

Congratulations! Your confirmation and receipt for your phone have been sent to your email and will be mailed to you.

$1,600 has also been deposited into your account.

Han looked over at me with a smirk, pulling keys off of a hidden hook on the bike. "Was that Zico?" He looked me up and down as he leaned against the bike, which I now assumed was his. "What? It's a good song! Fight me." He laughed as he checked his phone briefly too. "No, I love Zico. Bermuda Triangle, right?" I nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"His music got me through a really tough time in my life." Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that I was paired up with Han? Han smiled softly at me. He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair. His brown eyes surveyed the area. He motioned to a bench a few feet away. “We should have a little time before the next dare. Do you want to get to know each other?”

The two of us sat on the bench, the city lights bouncing off the buildings and creating shadows on our faces. “So, what’s something you’ve never told anyone before?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he draped an arm over the back of the metal bench looking over at me.

“Ummm you’re a stranger. I barely know you!” I said with a nervous laugh.

“Please! We’ve kissed and I’ve seen you practically naked.”

A hot blush came over my cheeks as I looked down to see his hand resting on my thigh, closing the already minuscule distance between our seats.

“Fine. Tell me something about you first.” He smiled and nodded. His brows furrowed as Han tried to think of something. He drummed his fingers across my skin and I struggled to control the flood of heat rushing to my cheeks once again. The action wasn’t sexual, it almost seemed casual and domestic. Something I found ironic but surprisingly nice.

“Okay, got it.” He smiled and turned back to me with the tiniest smile. Motioning for him to continue, his face turned serious.

“For my entire life, I have wanted to make music. A couple years ago, I got scouted by JYP and I’ve literally been living out my dream since. But sometimes...I feel like I don’t deserve it or I’m not ready. Sometimes I just want to go back in time...before all of...this. Is that weird?”

His bright eyes turned sad as he spoke. It was then I noticed little things about him. The dark bags under his eyes, the marks around and in his ears from headphones and headsets, the small callouses and rough patches on his hands and fingers from writing and playing instruments. The was a tiredness about him.

“No, I don’t think that’s weird. Not at all.”

A smile slipped onto his face as I rested my hand over his. “Okay, your turn, beautiful.” I sighed and thought about everything that happened in the last two days. My thoughts turned back to seeing Jennie and Hyunjin just a few hours earlier. A car horn zooming by brought me back to reality. “Y/n? Hey, beautiful, you good?” Nodding, I started playing with one of the silver rings on my fingers.

“Have you ever felt like the person you are and the person you are with everyone else are completely different?”

He nodded and I felt his thumb brush across my skin.

“Looking back on my life now, I’ve been spending most of my life being this girl that is such a pushover. Someone who just went with the group, or even my best friend. Not getting to choreograph, I even ignored it when Jennie took my spot as the principal dancer in the showcase. Even though it wasn’t what I wanted to do or she hurt me, I just brushed it off. That’s kind of why I’m doing this. In the time I’ve been playing this game...I’ve felt the most myself I ever have been. I can say whatever I want and do whatever I want without having to be anybody’s sidekick. I like this version of me better.”

A glance over to Han revealed a kind smile on his lips. It quickly turned into a smirk when my full attention turned on him. “Well if it helps, I like this Y/n very much.” Before I could respond Han’s phone went off signaling a new task.

“It says we have to go to this address for our next dare. NERVE is just tallying up the Watchers’ votes.” With a smirk, he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to his bike. “Hold on tight, beautiful.” He revved up the engine as I wrapped my arms around his waist and off into the city we raced.

Soon we arrived in the club district of Seoul. Han double-checked the address as he parked in front of a storefront with bright teal neon lights, casting dreamlike tints over Han’s features. My phone buzzed as I pulled my dress down a little further.

Do you trust Han?

His brows furrowed as he read over my shoulder. His hand on my waist did not go unnoticed.

The Watchers have decided

Let Han choose your tattoo. It must be at least 2 inches.

Reward: $9,500

“Holy shit. No way. My mom would kill me.” I said finally glancing up to read the neon sign. “What kind of flowers do you want at your funeral?” Han said with a laugh as he dragged me by the hand into the parlor.

“What about a panther riding a lightning bolt?”

“I’ll murder you before the Watchers will ask me to.”

He laughed as he flipped through the book of designs as heavy rock music blasted through the shop. “What about dragons? Or Porky Pig!”

“You’re a duh-duh--duh-duh-duh-duh-douce.” The man prepping the tools laughed and pointed at Han. “Your girlfriend is hilarious. Keep her around.” Han sends me a wink when he sees my flustered face, and then returns to the book. The man, his name was Taehoon, then started to prep the area where Han said my tattoo should go.

“None of these are good enough.” “Han, please don’t make me regret this.”

“Hold on. I’ll just free draw it.”

“THAT’S LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I JUST SAID, YOU BITCH!”

Han panned my phone over to me to show my pissed off face as Taehoon helped me adjust my dress so he had room to work. After propping my phone up nearby to film he went back to drawing. “Taehoon, over here. “ The man came over needle tattoo thing in hand. “Can you do something like this, but less shitty?” He nodded and a huge grin encompassed his face. “Dude, yes! That is awesome!”

Taehoon came over and laid me on my stomach before giving me a hair tie to get my hair out of the way. The second the needle touched the base of my neck I gritted my teeth and tried to not cry out in pain.

“Han, I hate you so much.”

“Love you too.”

I stifled a scream by biting down on my arm. Suddenly a familiar tune started blasting through the shop. “Ohhhhh! This is a good song!” Taehoon exclaimed before going back to work on the tattoo that was now forming at the base of my neck. The first verse of Zico’s Bermuda Triangle rang throughout the small and neon-lit shop. He laughed when I started passionately singing along.

“Ow! Han this feels much bigger than two inches!”

“Chill baby, I’m just finishing the ‘y’ in ‘daddy’.”

“Taehoon! Han, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“He’s joking! He’s joking! You’re almost done, beautiful.” Han said filming the whole endeavor. To take my mind off the pain of the needle stabbing some weird design into my skin, Han distracted me by blasting Zico, reading off the funniest live comments, and letting me squeeze the living crap out of his hand.

“Okay. You’re done. Go view my work. Holy shit this is one of the best things I’ve done.” Taehoon said turning off his equipment and cleaning off the excess ink one last time. Han walked with me over to a floor-length mirror and turned me around. Taehoon pulled a handheld mirror from a drawer and handed it to me. I gasped, my eyes finally falling onto the tattoo on the back of my neck. It was gorgeous. It perfectly encapsulated what Han and I had talked about on the bench.

“Han...It’s perfect. Thank you.” I couldn’t stop looking at the art on my skin. The thin flowing lines perfectly made up two separate faces. He smiled as I went to kiss his cheek. He smiled and handed my phone to Taehoon to keep filming so we could show NERVE proof the dare was complete. Han pushed a stray piece of hair away from my neck as Taehoon zoomed in with the camera.

A few seconds later my phone went off with a notification. “Dare complete. You’ve got balls, little lady.” Taehoon said as he handed me back my phone. Han zipped my dress back up and checked my phone with me.

Dare Completed

Your reward has been deposited in your account along with and extra $500 for the Watcher gain.

Another notification popped up from my back saying a total of $10,000 was deposited in my account. I took out my debit card ready to pay Taehoon for the tattoo, but he stopped me. “Don’t it’s on the house. As long as you let me take a picture of it and promise to come back to me for your next tattoo.” He said with a smile before wrapping me up in a big bear hug.

With the picture taken Han and I exited the shop and walked towards his bike. “So how painful was it actually? On a scale of one to ten.” “I don’t maybe a 6.7.”

Ding

Han pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped to unlock the device. A bright smile slipped over his face.

Han, do you trust Y/n?

“Ohhhhhhh do I have a tattoo for you!” I said pulling his arm back towards Taehoon’s shop. “Wait, they sent another message.” I stopped and pulling and looked at his phone.

Get to 60mph blindfolded.

Reward: 4-year tuition payment

4-year tuition payment? I thought Han said he was at JYP? “Holy shit...Of course, they would know about his tuition.” Han mumbled under his breath. Suddenly a loud roar came down the street along with deafening EDM music. A huge jeep came cruising down the street and stopped in front of us. The driver's side door opened to reveal the blonde boy from the department store.

“Chan?”

“Don’t mind me, Han. Just finishing a dare. Hold this for me would you, hot stuff?”

He handed me a Twice bumper sticker that was a little under a foot long and held up his phone so that NERVE could see his dare was completed. “I’ll see you guys in the finals!” With that, the blonde boy, Chan, drove off into the night.

“There is no way I can do this.” Han turned to me. There was a little bit of panic in his eyes. “What? No Y/n I need your help! I can’t do this without you!” He grabbed my shoulders trying to keep me to stay. “Han this is too much for me. It’s dangerous! I don’t want to do this. I’m done.”

“Y/n, please! Listen, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll do anything you want me to if you help me. Please, I don’t have a choice.”

“You don’t have a choice?”

“That’s not what I meant. My hyung, his tuition. My parents can’t afford to pay for it. Please, Y/n! I trust you. I know we can do this.

I looked down at his hand gripping tight onto mine. Han had completely changed. He was desperate. His brown eyes pleaded with me, begging me to say yes. I let go of his hands and a sadness and panic filled his face. I took the helmet that was hanging off the bars of his motorcycle and placed the Twice sticker across the visor, before handing it to Han.

“Okay...”

Part 2?

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