#think 'hey let's all wear these black rings so we can recognize each other!' that just wouldn't realistically happen

[a-lonely-dunedain]

feeling that terrible urge to make all my ace characters wear ace rings (so that's *checks notes* all of them) BUT those labels aren't defined yet in the setting they live in so ace rings aren't like. A Thing. tragic! might have them wear it anyway even if it makes no sense. like "hey does that black ring mean anything" "I just think it's neat!"

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Four)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), jealous Tae (?), rough blowjob, hair pulling, slight degradation (like 1 line), swallowing, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, coming on breasts lol, doggy style, coming on ass, crying, confrontation, drama and sadness lol

Notes: Okay, SO much happens in this chapter!! honestly this chapter is really the beginning! I hope you guys look forward to more:) remember to send me an ask or whatevs if you want to be added to the taglist! Or even if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los

© tastefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dress gets dragged past your hips and falls to the floor, pooling at your ankles. Your panties are next…it’s a black lacey thong and they are snug against your skin. They get dragged down leg by leg, thrown off to the side. Your skin feels hot and tingly…this bra needs off too. It unclasps from the front, freeing your breasts…they bounce as they’re released, you groan in satisfaction. You’re left completely naked and… wait, this sounds oddly sexual, doesn’t it? Yeah, you’re not getting any, sorry. You’re just trying on different clothes.

Taehyung is taking you to a party tonight and you want to look your best, you want to choose everything carefully. From your bra, to your panties to which dress you wear. You have this dress you’ve been saving but it might be too sexy…it’s black and sleek and falls off the shoulders. You might just wear it though…you’re wanting to give Taehyung some steamy thoughts tonight, even if they’re just in his head. A win is a win, right?

You choose another thong, so there’s no panty lines and a strapless bra. You slip the black dress on and it falls deliciously over your curves. You hum in approval as you eye yourself over in the mirror.

“Lookin’ good babe.” You whisper to yourself, nodding your head with a grin.

Jin is hosting a little party at his place tonight, you know when they say ‘little’ it’s more than you know, a little.So you’re looking your best. Taehyung is wearing dark dress pants and a button up shirt so you know it’s going to be at least a little nice, so you are putting some effort.

Speak of the devil, he’s waiting for you in the living room so you need to hurry.

You slide on your heels, grab your phone and your purse and make your way out your room. You see Taehyung leaning against the couch on his phone when you clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Woah.”

But it’s not coming from Taehyung, no. Coming from your side exiting his own bedroom is Jungkook.

He awkwardly clears his own throat and coughs into his fist. “Uh, you look nice.”

You snap your head to the side to get a look at the man, he’s dressed in his dark jeans with a dark button up shirt tucked into his pants…his hair is wild and he looks…breathtaking.

“What are you doing?” you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“Uh. Taehyung said I could ride with you guys…”

Taehyung slips his phone into his pocket and walks over to you guys,

“Yeah, I thought since we are all going to the same place…also, wow. y/n…you look…” Taehyung gestures towards your body and brings his hand to his mouth, “Just incredible.”

You blush at his compliment, your plan already working. Hehe.

“Thanks Tae.”

“I mean, I complimented you too but aight.”

You hit Jungkook’s shoulder and roll your eyes, “Thanks JK.”

Taehyung looks between you two and smiles softly, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs out.

“Should we get going?”

~~~

Usually during car rides Taehyung holds your hand but tonight he’s holding back, you can tell. Jungkook seems to be in a good mood though, he’s talking up a storm in the backseat, going on and on about how he reached a new goal at the gym. He even playfully flexes his muscles, making Taehyung chuckle from beside you. Jungkook leans forward until he’s in the middle of the console between your seat and Taehyungs seat, showing his phone to the both of you at some meme he found.

“y/n, y/n. LOOK.” Jungkook is shoving the phone in your face. “It’s our favorite meme!”

You take his phone from him, setting it down in your lap, “Before I look…is it The PeePee PooPoo Man?” you stifle a laugh.

Jungkook is already cracking the fuck up, “Damn, I can’t even look at it…”

“Me either…I’ll explode.” You start laughing already, the thought of the meme already killing you.

“What? I wanna see!” Taehyung whines.

You and Jungkook are already laughing your asses off, just thinking of the meme and thinking of Taehyungs reaction. When he gets to a stop light, you hesitantly hand him the phone while you cover your mouth.

“Okay…” Taehyung takes the phone.

“Read it out loud!” Jungkook practically yells, his excitement incredibly evident.

“Yeah, read it out loud!” you and Jungkook look at each other and start laughing again,

“Okay…” Taehyung looks at the meme and starts reading, “Say his name…you won’t be laughing when he kills you…” he scrolls down, “The PeePee PooPoo Man…..”

You and Jungkook DIE. Your laughter filling the car so loudly that Taehyung winces and covers his ears.

“Please tell me this isn’t really your guys’ favorite meme….” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly.

“What do you mean? OF COURSE it is!” You say, trying not to cry.

“Shit, I can’t…I can’t.” Jungkook has his hand on your shoulder. The two of you start to relax, your laughter finally dying down.

“I mean, really? PeePee PooPoo Man?” Taehyung just doesn’t get it. You guys really think this is funny?

You start cackling again at the mention of the name,

“Oh my god, stop. Don’t say his name.” You look at Jungkook who is already looking at you with a wide grin, his own eyes watering from laughing so hard.

“You guys are something else…” Taehyung drives through the green light, his eyes watching the two of you. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

~~~~

“Friends!” Jin opens his arms wide as if inviting all 3 of you in for a hug, “Welcome to my humble abode!”

“Yes, yes. Very humble.” Jungkook takes the invitation and quickly hugs his friend.

“Taehyung, y/n. Don’t be shy, come come.” He gestures towards his body.

The two of you laugh and embrace your friend, Jungkook stands off to the side looking all around the place.

“Small get together my ass.” Jungkook huffs.

The house is packed with people, lots of faces you don’t recognize but a few faces you do.

“JIMIN!!! TRINA!!!” You leave the boys sides to meet your friends.

“Hello beautiful.” Trina pulls you in for a hug, her laugh ringing in your ears. Jimin embraces you next, his arms wrapping lovingly around your body.

“What’s up sexy.” Jimin winks as he pulls back. Jimin looks gorgeous as usual, his hair pushed back so the world can see that beautiful god damn forehead.

Jungkook and Taehyung jog up to you guys, greeting your friends one by one. “Trina.” Jungkook nods in her direction.

“Jeon.” She nods back. “And hello Taehyung.” She links arms with the boy, “have you been treating our y/n well?”

Taehyung makes awkward eye contact with Jimin, panic written all over his face.

“Yeah Tae Tae,” Jimin says smoothly, his eyes narrowing. “How have you been treating our y/n?”

“Jimin can I talk to you?” Jungkook cuts in.

“I don’t give a shit about our promises from 3 fucking years ago. Get over it.” Jimin spits out, “y/n is my friend. I’m telling her.”

“Wait, Taehyung says he’s going to tell her.” Jungkook rushes to say, he’s got his hands on Jimin’s shoulders but Jimin shoves him off.

“I’m disappointed in you Jungkook. You’re keeping this from her all because you’re scared she’s going to find out about that stupid new years eve party. That was 3 fucking years ago dude, get over it.” Then Jimin quirks a brow, “Unless…you’re not over it? Not over h—”

“Shut up dude, it’s not fucking like that.” Jungkook tries defending.

“One week. That’s all he has before I tell her myself. You fucking idiots.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” You walk between the boys, your hands on both of their shoulders, “things looked heated for a second…” you say awkwardly, “are you guys okay?”

Jungkook gives Jimin a look that you decide you can’t decipher. Jimin rolls his eyes and releases a long breath before turning to face you.

“Everything’s fine, babe.” Jimin gives you a small smile and turns around heading towards your friends, “Trina!” he calls out, “Let’s get fucking drunk!”

You face Jungkook, “Is he alright?” you can’t help but feel concerned, Jimin is acting really strange. Jungkook stares into your eyes for a while, nibbling on his lips deciding what to say.

“He said everything’s fine, didn’t he?” His hand reaches forward to rub your arm, his way of comforting you. Taehyung watches the two of you from the corner of his eye.

“Should we get fucking drunk too?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know it, baby.”

~~~~

Once inside, you find Taehyung’s side. His long arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in close to his frame. You two find the kitchen to fetch some drinks, Jungkook follows closely behind you two.

“How about we start the night taking some shots?” You hear Jungkook suggest from your side.

“I like your thinking Mr.Jeon.” your playful tone makes him smile.

“You know I like being called that,” he winks. Taehyung’s grip tightens around your waist and you remember you’re in his embrace.

“Um, what do you think Tae?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” He says quietly, almost detached.

The 3 of you take shot after shot, Taehyungs hand never leaves your body. He keeps you steady as the world becomes just a bit more hazy. You drunkenly laugh into his chest anytime anyone says anything remotely funny. Taehyung enjoys that you’re leaning on him, that you are feeling comfortable.

He watches as you soak in the world in front of you, your wide eyes observing your surroundings. He laughs when you stumble forward every now and then but he always catches you. He kisses your head every few minutes to remind you that he’s here and he has you.

You feel like you’re floating, the alcohol running through your veins and causing the world to be so much more fucking awesome, hell yeah.

You scan the crowd and see a bunch of people dancing and you decide you want to dance too! You take Taehyung’s hand and move your head around looking for Jungkook, but you don’t see him.

“He went his own way a little while ago,” Taehyung reminds you, as if reading your mind.

“Oh.” You don’t mean to sound so disappointed, but you do. You fucking do.

You turn to face Taehyung and smile brightly anyway, “Let’s go dance!”

The music is so loud it’s all your body can register. Every note swims through your ears and every thump of the bass makes you move. Your arms are wrapped loosely around Taehyungs neck, your bodies swaying to the beat of the music. You’re having so much fun until you see it. A few feet in front of you, you see his tattooed hands on some random girls ass. You shouldn’t be feeling the drop in your stomach but you do. You fucking do.

Your eyes trail up his arms until you meet his eyes when you see he’s already staring at you. His dark gaze makes you fucking shudder, you hate that can he do this to you. Even after all this time.

You watch him carefully as you inch closer to Taehyung, you grab a hold of him more tightly. Taehyung grunts when he feels you grind your hips into his. Jungkook watches you as you dance with Taehyung, his gaze somehow becoming more and more dangerous. He leans down into the girls neck and begins sucking bruises, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses her and she throws her head back, you can see her smile in approval of his attention. He fucking smirks when you roll your eyes. Two can play that game. Taehyung watches you watching him but you don’t notice. But you wish you did. You pull Taehyungs face down to meet you for a kiss, your lips moving against his hotly, though your eyes remain on Jungkook the entire time. Jungkook just glares at you, turning the girl around so she can grind her ass into his crotch.

You sway your hips into Taehyung, his hands go to hold your hips moving them to the beat of the song. He groans when he feels your ass backing into him, he feels himself getting hard at the contact. You feel it too. You break eye contact with Jungkook to look up at Taehyung, his dick catching your attention.

“Oh don’t mind me.” Taehyung throws his hands up, whispering bitterly.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.”

And Taehyung is slipping away, disappearing in the crowd. You watch as he fades from your drunken vision.

You stand there feeling completely abandoned and puzzled when you feel a hand on your arm. You turn your head to see Jungkook standing there, breathless.

“Can we talk? Are we…okay?” He looks strange. Confused even.

“No, I gotta find Tae.” You say, “Plus, you’re busy, aren’t you?” you point your head in the direction of the girl.

“Does that bother you?” Jungkook whispers somewhat defeated, “Because I think…” he shakes his head, “No, I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk, Jungkook.” You release his hold on you, “I gotta find Tae.”

Jungkook feels…like he recalls this feeling. He doesn’t want you to go and find Tae. He wants you to stay with him. He recalls these familiar feelings and internally deflates, he doesn’t want to feel this. Not again.

You weave through the crowd until you make your way into the kitchen, you scan the area but see no Taehyung. Frustrated, you smooth down your tangled hair and take a minute to think. Where did he go? Where could he have gone? This house is huge! You recall just trying to find the bathroom that one time. You decide to try the backyard, you walk out the door and notice only a few people occupying the place. But still no Taehyung.

You head back inside the house and try out each random door. Well, he’s definitely not in the kitchens pantry. Damn, you’re drunk. You head down the hall and try out those rooms, your fingers slide against the wall as you walk. The first room is empty, the second room has a small group of people playing some game, the third room—you definitely interrupted something sexy going on. And finally, the fourth room has one Kim Taehyung. He’s sitting quietly on the edge of a bed, he doesn’t even look up to see who entered the room.

“Tae…” you walk inside, closing the door behind you. It softly clicks and you walk towards him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask but obviously you know what’s wrong, but your dumb ass has to make sure.

Taehyung stares down at his hands, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his shirt. He doesn’t look up at you when he breathes out through his nose.

“What’s wrong? Seriously? My girlfriend was dancing with me but playing some fucking eye fuck game with another guy.” He slurs.

Well, you knew. But it still stings to hear. Also, he must be really drunk if he called you his girlfriend and didn’t correct himself.

“I wasn’t…we weren’t…”

“When will you two just…” Taehyung stops to breathe, collecting his thoughts. “Fuck, I think I…no, I just…” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “I’m so confused.” He admits.

“About what?” you go to sit next to him, you leave a few inches of space between you. But still close enough for him to exhale deeply and lay his head on your shoulder.

“About you.” He says so quietly you don’t really hear.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Taehyung changes the subject. “You look so incredible tonight.” His hand falls to your knee, he starts rubbing it soothingly. You know this would feel nice sober but it feels indescribable drunk. His touch is soft and light that you fall into a trance.

“You think so?” you breathe out pathetically.

Taehyung lifts his head and turns to face you, “I’ve thought about kissing you all night.” He admits softly, “Then you really…” he glances down at his crotch, “Gave me quite the problem.” He drunkenly pouts. “Because you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help but giggle, “I can take care of that if you want.” You offer, your tone light and teasing yet powerfully seductive.

“Really need to kiss you first.” He breathes out heavily, his cock twitching in his pants.

You lean forward and peck his lips, you lean back and smile but then Taehyung surges forward and plants his lips on yours in a rushed and heated kiss. His lips move against yours quickly, his tongue finding its way in your mouth. You moan out loud, the sound going directly to his growing length. Your hands explore the front of his body, they travel from his hair to his chest to his stomach…all the way until you feel his cock through his pants. He groans loudly when you cup him.

“Are you gonna tease me, sweetheart?” he leans back on his forearms. “Because I wouldn’t mind that.” He smiles slyly.

“I have thought about this a million times, I don’t think there’s any time to waste quite honestly.” Wow, you are drunk because you just admitted that.

“Is it really me you think about?” he whispers under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he looks up at you.

“What? “Nothing, show me what you think about.”

“Have you ever thought about me? If so, I want you to show me.”

Taehyung stands to his feet, “Oh sweetheart,” he begins unbuckling his pants, “I can show you…if that’s what you want.” You nod your head and he smirks.

“Get on your knees for me.”

You do as Taehyung says, you fall to your knees in front of him and look up at him expectantly.

“So fucking pretty.” He lowers his pants down to his knees along with his boxers, his cock springs free, bouncing against his lower stomach. Your mouth fucking waters. His dick is gorgeous but like it’s Kim Taehyung…of course, he has a beautiful dick. It’s long, and thick and golden and you want your lips wrapped around it right fucking now.

“This is okay, right?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then open that pretty mouth of yours for me, sweetheart.”

But he doesn’t give you time to think because he’s pulling your head back and shoving his cock between your pretty, pouting lips.

You silently gag around him, and you can hear the string of explicates push past his plump lips. He sounds so fucking hot. His grip on your hair only tightens as he begins to shallowly thrust past your lips. He loves how you seem to swallow him whole, looking so beautiful as he fucks your mouth just waiting to fill it with his cum.

Pulling out all the way, he roughly fucks his cock back where it belongs, taking you by surprise causing you to choke. You absolutely love letting him have his way with you, so you moan loudly letting the vibrations stimulate his cock even further.

“You like it when I pull your hair that hard? You like it when I make you feel that’s all you’re good for?” He grits between his teeth. He looks down at you, and you look up into his dark, piercing gaze and mutter words of mercy.

“Taking my cock so good, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes Tae” you say almost inaudibly, tears pricking your eyes and falling in streams as you hollow your cheeks around his thick length. Your chest pounding as you close your eyes, allowing him to go to town on you. His grip weakens and his dick twitches in your mouth, spilling his hot seed down your throat.

“Fuck,” he curses, rubbing your cheeks tenderly. “You made me cum so fast, what a fucking good girl, my sweetheart.” He says, continuing his caress your cheek. You feel your panties become so unbelievably wet, drenched if you will. God damn.

“You let me fuck this mouth…will you also let me fuck this pussy?” his fingers on your chin guides your face to look up at him.

“Please.” God, you’re so needy its pathetic, but its god damn Kim Taehyung.

“First I gotta stretch you out, sweetheart.” He motions for you to lay on the bed, “Take off your clothes for me.”

You do as he says, you crawl on to the bed and slip your dress off, then your bra and you’re about to drag your panties down when he stops you.

“Wait…leave those on.” His dark gaze commands you.

Taehyung takes off the rest of his clothes and makes his way to the bed, crawling over you. Your breath catches in your throat, you feel like everything’s stopped.

His hand lightly drags down your stomach until his hand is hovering where you want him most.

Without warning, he moves your panties to the side and his fingers slide into your sopping, desperate cunt, curling them just right to brush against that spot in you that make your toes curl.

His long fingers slides in and out of you, the sound of your wet pussy and your loud moans filling the room.

“More. More.” you plead.

“What is it that you want?” he says still working his fingers inside of you.

You just moan loudly in response.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, “Sweetheart…” he begs.

“You. You. I want you!”

“Fuck yes.” He grits, his hand on his cock already. “Gonna fuck you now, okay?”

“Yes!”

He’s sitting on his hunches as he lines his cock up to your wet pussy. He slowly drags it up from your hole all the way up to your swollen clit, he then rubs circles over your clit with this cock, you both moan at the feeling.

He drags it back down and lines it up with your entrance, taking your legs and hanging them over his shoulders. He finally begins pushing into you with one slow drag of his cock, and as he bottoms out, you whimper his name repeatedly. He is stretching you out deliciously. He stays completely still for a moment before he starts moving his hips dangerously slow, you go to moan out his name but no sound comes out. The feeling of his dick brushing inside you leaving you speechless.

Your mind goes blank for a second, then suddenly images of Jungkook cross your mind. You think about him with that other girl, you think about him fucking her, you think about him coming inside her. You try so hard to speak but the way Taehyung rolls his hips into yours over and over lets out only loud, pleading moans. Only the sound of your whimpers and his heavy breathing fill the room.

Dropping one of your legs, Taehyung moves his hand to the soft skin of your stomach, his touch is electric.

“So close Ju-Tae…”

“Where should I come?” he asks, breathless as he continues to fuck into you.

“My tits.”

Taehyung smirks as he thrusts harder and faster until you’re coming undone on his cock, your loud moans giving away your orgasm. Jungkook’s face filling your mind again as you come…only making you come harder. Taehyung pulls out and shoots his cum all over your chest, he smiles down at you as he enjoys the view.

Taehyung falls forward, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss.

“That was amazing y/n. You’re so good to me, sweetheart.” He kisses you again.

You look up at the ceiling, the soreness already announcing its arrival between your legs. Your orgasm is kind of sobering you up. Did you just fuck Taehyung? You kind of laugh, a bit confused. It was fun and all…wait, why are you beginning to over think? It’s just…you just had his cock filling you up yet you lay here with his arm draped around you and you feel…empty.

How did things escalate this much? But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? God, why are you being such a baby! You just fucked THE Kim Taehyung and you’re wondering why you feel disappointed…congratulations y/n, you’re the world’s most ungrateful bitch.

But then your sober thoughts come in once again, reminding you of what set you over the edge. No, you don’t want to remember.

Taehyung is already snoozing beside you, his arm loosely thrown over your body. You look down at him and feel guilt bubbling in your chest. What have you done? What are you doing?

Wait—did he really fall asleep while his cum dries on your tiddies?

~~~

The next few days you spend in and out of Taehyungs apartment, he invites you over for dinner, to watch TV, to paint—for sex. Basically, any and everything.

The sex is…good—really good, actually. He treats you super well, still the gentleman and makes you feel incredible.

You want to feel incredible. You should feel incredible. Isn’t this incredible?

But still, something makes you ache. The ache is beginning to consume you. You want it to go, to disappear to leave you forever because you should be feeling incredible. But then your mind goes back to the same damn thing—

Brrr Brrr

You are lying on your bed with a sour punch straw hanging out your mouth when your phone buzzes. You ignore it, trying to focus on your thoughts again but then you hear it go off again. You roll over on your stomach and pick up your phone, unlocking it to read your texts.

Taehyung 8:14pm

Hello beautiful!

Taehyung 8:15pm

Wanna come over for a movie? I miss your pretty face.

You read the texts to yourself over and over, nibbling on your lips like the action will somehow help you. You…this is what you wanted, right?

y/n 8:18pm

You miss me already? You just saw me :p but sure I’ll be over in 30.

You sit up in bed, the straw still dangling from your lips and you begin chewing…the straw disappearing centimeter by centimeter. The sour flavor making you scrunch up your face but you take it.

You sit there and wonder if you even really want to go…but you know you should. So, you get up and get dressed into something a little more presentable and exit your bedroom.

Jungkook is in the kitchen making something to eat when you walk out, he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice your presence.

“Boo!” you yell out, jumping towards him and hugging his waist from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t even flinch, he just chuckles softly and slowly turns in your embrace.

“What do you think you’re doing miss not so sneaky?” his eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance.

“Wait—are you going somewhere? I…I thought we could watch Howl’s Moving Castle tonight?” he loosens your grip on him and lowers your arms down to your side.

“Oh…” you say awkwardly. “I already told Tae I would go over there for a movie…”

Jungkook blows air through his nose, and rolls his eyes to the side, “Again? Weren’t you just there?”

“It’s normal to hang out with your…friends.” Friends? You and Taehyung are friends or are you more than friends? Or? What is going on?

“Can’t you just cancel on him and hang out with me, your best friend?” he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on the counter.

“Jungkook…”

“Fine, fine. Have fun.” He turns back around to continue making whatever it is he is making,

Since spending so much time with Taehyung the last few days, Jungkook hasn’t been getting the attention he’s used to. You decide to step forward and hug him from behind again and nuzzle your face into his back.

“Love you.” You whisper into his shirt, the scent making you feel cozy.

“I…” he clears his throat. “Yeah, me too.”

~~~~~

Taehyung collapses on top of you, hugging you from behind, out of breath and sweat sticking to his skin. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he fucks into you, your face buried in the cushion of his living rooms couch.

“Fuck, I’m about to blow, sweetheart.” His hips grind into you and you moan out from the feeling.

“Gonna come all over this pretty ass, that okay?” he grits out.

“Yes. Yes.”

Taehyung quickly pulls out, grunting your name, and comes down your lower back and ass, his hand grips his cock tightly as he shoots his load. You feel the warm, sticky goo dribble down your cheeks and you cringe.

You lay there breathless, even though you didn’t come yourself, but the fuck was still good—so you say to yourself.

“Please get me a towel.”

Taehyung is quick to roll off you and grab his t shirt and wipe your skin clean. “Better?”

“Yeah…”

Taehyung sits back down on the couch, a wide grin on his face when realization hits him… “Oh my god, you didn’t come. I can…I can eat you out.”

“No it’s okay, really.” You assure him. The mood is long gone.

“This just keeps getting better.” Taehyung pulls you to his side, he smiles into your neck as you steady your breaths.

“What does?” your hand goes into his hair and you begin massaging his scalp—you know he likes that. Unlike Jungkook, he doesn’t like his hair being pulled. Ugh… Why did you have to think that?

“God, just everything.” Taehyung pulls back and smiles at you and you try to return it whole heartily but you fall short.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks.

“Everything’s fine,” you lie. “Just noticing the time and I think I should head out soon.”

Taehyung pushes his head back, a confused smile makes its way on his face.

“It’s barely 11?”

“It’s just…Jungkook wanted to watch a movie tonight too…you know his horrible sleeping habits so no doubt he’s going to be up for a while, “ you begin. “so I thought…I could still make it to watch it with him.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a while, he only stares at you with hard eyes. He leans back on to the couch and exhales deeply.

“Have you been thinking about this the whole time? About him? Even while…” he shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

“y/n I think…we really need to ta—”

“No!” you cut in, you feel anxiety stir within you.

“I mean, I just mean, we can talk tomorrow? You wanted to meet for brunch right? We can talk then. For now…” you lean over and pick up your shirt and throw it on. “I’m gonna head home.”

Taehyung bows his head down, his hands running through his hair as he mutters something to himself.

“What’s that?” you ask while standing to find your shorts.

“Nothing…” he lifts his head, “Actually…y/n.”

“What is it?” you laugh awkwardly, buttoning up your shorts.

“You and Jungkook…” he stands up too, “When will you two just…”

“I’m gonna go Tae.” Your guilty smile making you feel sick, but it doesn’t stop you from walking towards him and kissing his lips.

“y/n I think I like y—”

“Tomorrow?” you smile sweetly as the ache you have been feeling only grows larger and larger.

“Yeah…” Taehyung smiles back, “Tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

y/n 11:08pm

You still up?

Jungkook 11:09pm

Yeah, whats up?

y/n 11:09pm

you still up for that movie?

Jungkook 11:09pm

You coming home already? But yeah sure:)

y/n 11:10pm

yeah I’m about to head that way

Jungkook 11:11pm

Ok don’t text and drive

y/n 11:11pm

hey its 1111 make a wish

Jungkook 11:11pm

Really? What are you, 12?

You chuckle to yourself as you sit in the driver’s seat of your car, you exit your messages and open up your music app to play one of your playlists.

You put the car in reverse and exit Taehyung apartment complex parking lot, it’s kind of cramped and you’re having to put the car in drive and reverse too many times for your liking…making you feel fucking frustrated.

Your mind goes to tonight…you hate this feeling. You just want to go home. Home where its warm and safe and no one is trying to have a serious talk with you.

You’re avoiding it. You have been for a while…you’re not stupid. Taehyung…no, you don’t want to think about it.

The drive home is relaxing for you…there’s barely anyone else out and your music is at the right volume. Just loud enough that you can’t hear yourself think. Perfect.

You enter your apartment, and are welcomed with a dark, quiet place. Where’s Jungkook?

You take your phone out and shoot him a text asking where he is but several minutes pass and he doesn’t reply. Where did he go? He didn’t…cancel on you, right? He isn’t with some girl right now, right?

Anxiety stirs within you once again, the thought of Jungkook elsewhere making breathing harder. You just wanted to come home but somehow this empty apartment feels like the farthest thing from home. The blue glow of the TV making you feel like you’re in an odd, far off place. You pull your legs up on the couch and hug them close to you, you suddenly feel so lonely. So fucking lonely.

Your face contorts, and before you know it you are trying not to cry. The last few days are catching up to you and you feel like a mess. Why can’t things feel fucking incredible? Your lip quivers and you struggle to breathe in and out like a normal human being.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, weirdo?”

You didn’t notice the sound of the front door opening and the light being turned on.

Your head snaps to the side to see Jungkook at the front entrance with a bag in his hand, he looks at you with a toothy grin until he realizes you’re crying.

“Woah woah,” he rushes to set the bag down and heads your way, he makes it to the sofa and sits down next to you and is quick to pull you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers into your hair. “Are you okay?” He pulls back to get a look at your face, you start sniffling harder.

“Did Taehyung do something?” then Jungkook begins to panic, “Fuck, he did, right? I knew it…I’m gonna beat his fucking ass.” Jungkook lets go of you and begins to stand up when you desperately pull him back down.

“No…” you cry out quietly, “It’s your fault, dummy.”

Jungkook tilts his head innocently, “My fault?” he says, pointing to himself.

“I thought you bailed on me…” you sniff.

Jungkook breathes out and laughs softly, “I was…I went to the store to buy some beer for us.” He gestures towards the bag on the ground.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” he asks.

“I texted…but you didn’t answer.”

“Then you should have called,” His fingers brush across your cheek.

“I thought maybe you could have been with…someone…I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jungkook looks at you incredulously, his brows pinched together so tightly.

“You think I would do something like that?” he pulls you in again, “I would never do that. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

“You wouldn’t ever leave me in general would you?”

“Never, baby.” He kisses the top of your head and you nuzzle yourself into his chest.

Home. Your apartment finally feels like home again.

You and Jungkook are a few beers in and watching one of your favorite movies, he looks over at you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. You smile softly towards him and he smiles back…this goes on for the entire movie. Near the end, you have the urge to be closer to Jungkook so you grab his hand and interlock your fingers. He doesn’t look at you as he weaves his fingers through yours and holds your hand tightly.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you say, slight tease in your voice.

Jungkook goes stiff, a memory sucking him in. Fucking great.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you tease as Jungkook lifts your joined hands above your head.

“Love feeling closer to you.” Jungkook leans down and plants wet kisses down the expanse of your throat, you moan as you feel his lips devouring you.

Jungkook continues to kiss and kiss until his lips meet your collarbone, until his lips drag down to your breasts, until his lips are kissing at your stomach, until his lips are where you want him most. He continues to hold your hands, lowering them to your sides.

“Love feeling closer.”

“It’s pretty late…2 in the morning…sheesh.” Jungkook untangles your fingers, “Goodnight, y/n.” he leans over and kisses the top of your head before standing from the sofa and walking towards his room for the night.

“Night Jungkook…” you whisper, feeling the emptiness dig its hole within you again.

~~~~~

You can’t really describe this hole in your chest that you feel. It leaves you empty and in pain. It leaves you wondering why and how and when this all started…

You’re meeting Taehyung for brunch at the café, you’re seated in a booth across from him and he looks quite chipper. You watch as he eyes the menu and you watch as his lips curve upward into a warm smile when he speaks to you. You watch his lips as he talks, you watch his hands as the gesture around the place, you watch—

“y/n? y/n?”

“Oh. Yeah?”

“You’re not getting pancakes?” Taehyung pouts, setting down his menu.

You chuckle softly, “Why does it matter?”

“I thought you would get one flavor and I would get another and we could like, share.” He says almost childlike.

You nibble on your lip, it wasn’t a bad idea actually.

“Fine.” You smile, “I’ll get blueberry.”

“And I’ll get chocolate.” He grins at you with all his teeth. The two of you wait for your server to arrive but she is nowhere to be found so Taehyung stands from the booth and says he is going to fetch her. You nod your head and watch him walk past a corner. You pull out of your phone and begin scrolling through twitter when a feminine voice cuts in,

“y/n, right?”

You look up from your phone to see a familiar face. Long brown hair, big bright eyes, full pouting lips. Long legs, the works. Anna.

“Um, yes?” you bite your lip, feeling anxious all the sudden. Why is Taehyung’s stalker talking to you?

“If you’re…” you try to come off more confident. “Looking for Taehyung, you should just forget about it.”

Anna looks taken aback before she’s smirking down at you, “And why is that?”

“He’s not interested Anna, you need to like, move on.”

“Oh? It’s me who needs to move on?” she laughs light heartedly. “Listen, y/n. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but it sounds like you have it all wrong.” She taps her manicured fingers on the table.

“I don’t think so Anna.” You stand up so you’re at eye level with her, “He—”

“Tell Taehyung it’s starting to work though. I am starting to regret it.” She says, her voice so smooth. “Oh.” Her bright eyes widen, “Or I could tell him myself.” She says, looking behind you.

You turn around to see Taehyung approaching the table, his face as white as a ghost.

“A-Anna? What are you doing here?” his voice filled with panic, you’ve never seen Taehyung look so freaked out before.

“Just telling your little girlfriend I miss you.”

Taehyung visibly frowns at Anna’s words. Like they hold depth for him. What the hell is going on? What’s starting to work? What is she regretting? Your head snaps to face Taehyung,

“Taehyung, what’s happening?”

“Yeah, Taehyungie, what’s happening?” Anna copies with a coy smile.

Taehyung looks between the two of you, panic written all over his face. Anna’s hand softly clutches onto Taehyungs forearm and he very clearly relaxes at her touch, making you feel even more confused.

“Do you know her? Like know her know her?” you finally ask.

“Does he know me?” Anna lightly chuckles, a hand coming to cover her mouth, “Do you know me Tae?” she continues to giggle. Then her large eyes meet yours, “It looks like you’re the one who doesn’t know him.” then she’s looking at Taehyung again, “I’ll be waiting for your call.” And she steps to the side, smiles at you and walks away. You watch as she disappears through the door of the restaurant and your eyes never leave the door. Your mind trying to process what just happened.

“Y/n, I can explain.” You finally hear Taehyung speak up. His hand reaches for yours but you yank it back.

“Don’t touch me. Just talk.” You demand, sitting back down in the booth.

Taehyung sits across from you and exhales a long breath.

“Anna is my ex-girlfriend.” He lets out. Pausing, waiting for a reaction from you but it never comes. He continues,

“I might of not been completely honest—”

“No shit.” You cut in, “But please,” you gesture your hand for him to go on.

“She left me for another guy…” Taehyung doesn’t expect you to feel sorry for him, he folds his hands in his lap and he thinks about what to say next.

“I just…wanted her to feel what I felt. Like I moved on, I wanted her to want me back.”

“Because you want her back…” you finish for him. Your eyes darting all around the café. “You lied to me…” then you look at him, “Why me? Why did you ask me?

Taehyung looks down at his hands, “I knew you liked me, so I thought you would agree to it.” He admits.

You breathe out a long breath, your eyes beginning to gloss over,

“You knew I…? So all of this was truly just fake?”

Taehyung shakes his head frantically, “No. No. Well, maybe in the beginning.” He admits, his voice starting to crack. “Anna—“

“And how didn’t I know you had a girlfriend?”

“Listen, please just listen. Anna and I were dating, yes. But she wanted to keep quiet about it…” he notices you quirk a brow, “She had her reasons.” He defends. “but then she came to me, telling me all this shit about how she met someone else and I…I panicked.” He looks down at the table, his voice wavering.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” you point out, “You fucking used me.”

“I know, I know.” Taehyung chokes on his words, “And I feel awful about it,”

“How awful Taehyung? You fucked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, he shakes his head again. “Please let me continue….I…I am really confused right now. I thought I wanted Anna back but you…you make me feel…but…”

“But what?” you cross your arms over your chest, you raise your head, trying your best not to fucking cry.

“I’m just so confused.” He says again.

“You used me.” You whisper, your tears finally fleeing from your eyes.

“Yes…but I think you used me too.”

Excuse you? The fucking audacity this fucker has!

“Used you? Please tell me how I used you!”

Taehyung meets your eyes, they’re soft and warm. “Please don’t play dumb,” he says.

“Aren’t I just your little distraction from Jung—"

“Stop.” Your eyes grow twice their size, you push your shoulders all the way up to your ears. You’re fuming. “I don’t know what you think you—”

“y/n.”

He looks at you softly, you stare into his eyes and your lip begins to quiver. What does Taehyung think he knows? What does Taehyung know that you’re too afraid to say out loud yourself? Your eyes refill with tears and he reaches for your hand across the table, this time you don’t pull back.

“It’s okay y/n, I know.” He says so gently it feels like someone’s hugging you.

You stare at him in disbelief while the tears begin to fall. Fuck. Years of pent up emotions finally break free, you quietly sob like a baby in the booth of the café. His hand never leaves yours.

You cry like this for several minutes, letting years of unrequited feelings get washed away. Taehyung eventually moves to your side of the booth and holds you, you cry pathetically into his chest. Why couldn’t this work? You made a wish in the bubble bath and everything…why couldn’t you get your way? You sacrificed so much…you put Jungkook’s friendship on the line for this…why?

“How did you figure it out?” your shy tone makes Taehyung smile fondly towards you.

“You’re pretty obvious. I always thought you guys had a thing going to be honest…but he always denied it.”

You feel your stomach drop, it’s not like you’re surprised that Jungkook would deny something like this but for some reason it still hurts.

“Makes sense.” You sniffle into your elbow. “We aren’t like that.”

Taehyung looks at you with so much fucking pity it kills you.

“y/n…he could feel the same way…”

“He doesn’t.” you rush to say, “Trust me.”

Taehyung looks down at his hands, he feels more guilt surface. He’s kept so much from you…now he’s keeping another secret.

“Don’t give up.” He smiles towards you, “I hope that with time you can be my friend again…I understand if you want some space.”

“Wait.” You feel anger begin to bubble over, “Jungkook…he fucking knew about you, didn’t he?” you ball your hands into fists. “He didn’t fucking tell me?” you turn your head to face Taehyung, your eyes filling with tears once again. Your best friend didn’t tell you about this?

“Wait wait y/n. That’s my fault not his, I swear. A few years ago I told him and Jimin about Anna and they had to swear not to say anything and they told me stuff in return…so the 3 of us swore to each other…” he begins losing his train of thought, “It’s just…it’s not his fault.”

“Jimin…too?” Your brows pinch together, you feel so fucking betrayed. You feel like an idiot.

“Jimin only just found out and he only didn’t tell you because Jungkook said he was going to tell him that I planned on telling you…”

“Were you going—”

“Yes!” Taehyung exclaims loudly, the people in the next booth over look over. “I promise, I just—I needed to figure out how. But then my feelings got so confusing and we slept together and I thought I could pretend…”

“Okay okay…” you pat his back, “I believe you.” And you do. You recall every moment he was going to tell you but you stopped him…because deep down you knew this was all too good to be true.

“y/n please forgive me.” He chokes up, “I really don’t want to lose you.”

You chew on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say. Yes, you feel hurt and betrayed but are you any better? You were so desperate for Taehyung to like you because…because you wanted to forget about Jungkook. You used him too. He’s right. And no matter how hard you tried and how much you forced yourself…Jungkook is still the only one you can think about.

Wait a fucking minute. No. He lied to you. He used you. And yes, maybe you were maybe trying to use him too but his is much worse. And you shouldn’t forgive that so easily. Right?

“I think you’re right about needing space Taehyung…you…you did me really wrong.”

Taehyung exhales deeply, looking into your eyes.

“I know y/n. I’m…I’m so sorry.” he looks down at his hands, they’re cold and clammy.

“y/n…please believe me, I’m so confused. I think I like—”

“Don’t.” you hold up your hand in front of him. “Don’t do that.”

Taehyung’s shoulders slump as he nods his head un understanding. “Sorry.”

You’re hurt. You feel used and betrayed. You should direct all your anger towards Taehyung, the one who did this to you but somehow the feeling of hurt and betrayal is coming from someone else. Jungkook. He kept this from you. Why? Why the hell would he keep this from you? You guys are supposed to tell each other everything but then you scoff at your own thought. He won’t even open up about his home life, why are you surprised he keeps things from you?

You decide to walk home from the café, rejecting Taehyungs offer to give you a ride. You need the fresh air, let’s be honest. You finally see your apartment in view and you sigh.

You reach the front door as you unzip your bag to reach for your keys to unlock the door. The keys are cold between your fingers as you search for the right one, but much to your frustration you can’t fucking find it. Obviously, it’s here. But why is it hiding from you?

You very irritatingly rattle the knob just for shits and giggles. You even pound the door with your fists just letting out all your anger, the feeling of betrayal catching up to you. You hit your head against the wooden door repeatedly wincing at the pain but not letting that stop the movement.

Much to your surprise, the door swings open and your head falls forward into Jungkook’s warm hand. You look up with shocked, watery eyes. He studies your face for a few seconds before exhaling deeply.

“What’s wro—"

“You knew. About Anna.” You spit out, standing tall.

Jungkook’s lips form a small ‘o’ before his face is hardening. “I tried to warn you.” Is all he says.

“Warn me?” you scoff in disbelief. “You should of told me.”

“You should of just listened to me, and trust me.” He scoffs back, his lips turning downwards.

“You let me go around pretending to be his girlfriend when you knew how much I liked him??”

“You’re not my responsibility. And it wasn’t my business,” he eyes you up and down. “Are you going to come inside or not?” he gestures towards inside the apartment. You are quiet for a moment before breezing past him and settling in the kitchen.

“Why are you always keeping things from me Jungkook?” you feel so tired, just so fucking tired.

“y/n…” he shuts the front door and walks towards you, his head hanging low. “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, you guys have your fucking weird ass secrets or whatever. Probably another thing I don’t know about you.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow in size, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline. “He didn’t tell you…”

“No Jungkook.”

He sighs in relief. He walks closer to you until he’s reaching his hands to grab yours.

“I’m sorry…he—”

“We…” you feel your eyes bubble over with tears again, “We slept together.” You sniffle, “He fucking used me.” You stare at Jungkook with a pained expression, “All this time I—I thought I was making progress…” your head falls into your hands and you begin to cry.

. “That asshole fucked you?” Jungkook’s voice is dangerously low.

“I told him…he couldn’t…that fucking dick.” Jungkook turns towards the counter and grabs his keys.

“W-What are you doing?” You lift your head, panic written all over your face.

“Gonna beat his ass.” Jungkook is walking towards the front door to find his shoes.

“No!” you rush towards him, grabbing onto his arm, “I-I’m fine. Me and Taehyung are done, it’s over. No need to do anything el—”

“Fine? How are you fine?! You’re not fine, y/n!” he looks at you, exasperated.

“I—"

“This is my fault.” He bows his head, “I should of told you.” “Well…yes. You should have Jungkook.” You let go of his arm and turn around, you run your fingers through your hair. You feel frustrated as fuck.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“How can I make this up to you?” Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel right now. Guilty? Horrible? Okay? Happy that you and Taehyung are finally fucking done? Furious that his friend fucked you? You of all people? He should beat Taehyungs ass just for that alone.

“I said… why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Jungkook’s eyes leave yours, they move all around the place as he mind races. What can he say?

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers.

Your eyes go wide as hell, biggest they’ve ever been. “No. No.” You quickly walk towards him, you shove his chest. Jungkook pinches his brows together as he stumbles back.

“You will not give me that bullshit, Jungkook.” You cry out.

“Just tell me how I can make this up to you so we can move on…” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest.

“So we can move on? How dare you? You fucked up, Jeon Jungkook!” You struggle to find a breath as you cry, “tell me why!”

Jungkook frowns as he watches you, his heart breaking, He can’t tell you why. His mind takes him back to 3 years ago when he made a promise with himself, he would never tell you why.

“You’re going to lose me Jungkook.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Do you want that?”

Jungkook feels his heart pounding. Lose you? No, he can’t…

3 years ago

You haven’t talked to him in weeks…and it’s pure torture. He is feeling the same pain he felt when his mom left him. Not the exact same pain…but the feeling of loss is there and it hurts.

You are without a doubt the most important lady in his life and he fucked it all up. He should of never... Why did things have to escalate like that? Why did he have to brush it off like it was nothing? Because now you aren’t talking to him. Is this going to…ruin your friendship?

Jungkook doesn’t think he could handle that. Could he handle another loss like that? No. He needs you in his life, he needs you. He thought…you wanted it. Wanted him. But he was wrong. And he is willing to do anything to go back to how things were before…he wants nothing more than to have your friendship. He swears he will never, never jeopardize your friendship again, no matter how empty it might make him feel.

One month. It took one month for you to finally respond to his texts and agree to meet up. You showed up at his apartment wearing your sweet smile and he broke down crying in front of you for the first time. You sat him down and rubbed his back, whispering words of comfort.

“Let’s just…never talk about it.” You continue to pat his back. Jungkook lifts his head and nods slowly.

“Okay…” he agrees,

“We don’t want to risk our friendship.” You rub the center of his back and he flutters his eyes shut. “Promise?”

Jungkook nods his head again. He promises he will never bring it up, bring up his…his…he promises he will never bring it up. He has to bury this. Because he won’t risk anything with you. He won’t lose you. He won’t make you uncomfortable again, he won’t cause damage to this friendship. He will be best friend Jungkook and that’s it. Because that’s what you want.

The flashbacks are too overwhelming for Jungkook, his memories flooding his body and he’s beginning to drown. His breathing becomes harsher, the loud breaths filling your ears.

“J-Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares at you with his mouth wide open, he tries to speak but no words come out.

“Hey?” you walk closer to him but he takes a clumsy step back.

“Lose you?” he finally manages to stutter out, his eyes wet with unfallen tears.

“Just tell me why, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft this time and he chokes on a quiet sob, his tears beginning to spill.

You walk closer and Jungkook steps back until his back is against the front door, he wipes his sweaty palms on his sweats. These feelings…he doesn’t want to taste their familiarity. He breathes deeply and screws his eyes shut.

“y/n…” he whimpers.

“Just tell me, Jungkook.” You’re standing just in front of him, your chest almost touching his. You tilt your head up and your hands travel up his arms until they’re cupping the back of his head.

Jungkook hesitantly opens his eyes and stares down into your eyes.

He stares down at your face and he admires all your features…he observes how creamy your skin looks, how your eyes crinkle at the edges, how your eyebrows crease slightly as you frown and how pretty and pouty your lips look. His eyes never leave your face as he takes you in. Cute. That’s how he usually views you. But today, right now, you look absolutely beautiful.

Jungkook feels his heart starting to thump wildly in his chest and he grows anxious. He can’t view you that way. He won’t. But his eyes linger on your lips and you look at him with such a cute, confused expression and he can’t help but lean a little closer. He can’t do this. He won’t do this. The anxiety grows and grows but he gets closer and closer. Your eyes begin to flutter shut and before he knows it, his lips find yours. His mouth slants over your own in a long, hot and maybe even a little sloppy kiss. His lips are plush against your own, they move in desperation at first but come to a slower pace. He begins savoring you. But you don’t move. You are in a state of shock.

Before you know it, Jungkook is unfortunately moving away from you. His lips disconnecting from yours and a look of horror is plastered on his face.

“Sorry I—”

You stare at him in shock, not able to speak.

“y/n… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry—”

And then you’re snorting. A light hearted giggle escapes your lips and you go to cover your mouth from the slip.

Jungkook continues to look horrified, totally and completely terrified of your reaction.

“Sorry, it’s just…” you continue to laugh, “This reminds me of the first time we kissed.” You say softly, a small smile decorating your face.

Jungkook frowns at your words, taking a moment to think.

“It does?” he says, but then he remembers how it went and a soft smile begins to make an appearance.

“Yeah.”

“I dare you to kiss y/n” Jimin says with an evil smirk. You choke on the drink you have in hand once you process his words, eyes wide in terror. Kiss you? Jungkook? Your best friend?

Everyone in the room starts whooping and hollering at the idea but you shake your hands in front on you in denial.

“No, no. We can’t do that!” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut at the idea.

“Yeah, no way in hell am I kissing her.” You hear Jungkook say harshly from beside you.

You don’t know why but that kind of sucks to hear. You feel a pang in your chest, why did he have to say it like that? You mean, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like you were disgusting right?

“Uh yeah.” You say, your mood obviously shifting.

“That’s literally the last thing I want to do!” You hear Jungkook cackle. “someone else can do the honors” he continues to bark loudly, his laughter filling the room.

Jimin frowns, his hands clasping together. “Fine, I dare you to kiss Amber instead.”

“That, I can do.” Jungkook smirks.

How is your best friend making you feel so rejected? You feel your heart drop to your stomach and your stomach drop to the floor. Amber is pretty…probably Jungkook’s type. Although you thought Jungkook didn’t have a type. But whatever it is, it isn’t you.

“I’m gonna go get something more to drink,” you say to no one as you stand to your feet and begin heading out the door. But you feel a body behind you and you know it’s Jungkook. You roll your eyes, feeling annoyed.

The party is still going hard when you make your way downstairs again, you weave through the crowd to get to the kitchen to fetch yourself another beer.

“y/n! Wait up!” you hear Jungkook call from behind you but you decide to ignore him.

You find the cooler of beers and grab yourself one, the chilling beer freezing against your fingertips. You crack it open and begin chugging it back, enjoying the carbonation that sizzled down your throat.

“Slow down Lightning McQueen.” Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap.

“What’s with you?” he quirks a brow, looking adorable while doing so.

“What are you doing here?” you snap again, “Shouldn’t you be like, making out with Selena or whatever her name is.”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his doe eyes big and bright, “Selena? Oh! You mean Amber? Nah, I saw you leaving so I came with you.” He smiles, “I told you no girls tonight. I am spending new year with you.”

You blink at him in surprise, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook always keeps his word to you.

“Want to go outside?” he asks, heading nodding towards the back door.

“It’s cold, Jungkook!”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He winks then transitions into a soft smile, “Promise.”

The two of you walk outside, it is pretty damn cold, your skirt and crop top barely doing enough to keep you warm.

“Here.” Jungkook is shrugging off his jacket and handing it you.

“Thanks” you shiver, slipping on the warm, fuzzy coat. “Will you be fine?” you question.

“Only if you come snuggle with me.”

“Do these lines work on most girls?”

“Usually all of them.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

You giggle and move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle. Even though it’s like 20 degrees outside, Jungkook is unbelievably warm.

Jungkook pulls his phone out to check the time, huffing when he sees there’s still a few more minutes until midnight

“So how many girls did you have to reject tonight?” You ask with a snicker. Jungkook raises a brow in question, “Like, ‘oohh Jungkook please be my new years kiss??’ ya know, shit like that.” You mock.

“Oh that? No girls lining up tonight.”

“Why’s that? You shut em all down early?”

Jungkook sways back and forth, your body clinging on to his, “I think they all see me with you tonight and are laying off.”

You scoff at his words, “Right, because I have stopped them before.” You roll your eyes.

“Ha, you never know.” Jungkook takes another look at his phone, “Oh less than a minute.” He says with the shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Wanna be my kiss Jeon?” the words slip out of your mouth almost killing you in the process. You can’t believe you just asked that, “Just kidding, you would rather have someone else kiss me, right?” you huff, saving yourself.

Jungkook chokes on his spit as he tries to swallow down your words, “W-What?”

“Nothing.”

Jungkook obviously heard you loud and clear. Did you actually want to be kissed by him?

5

4

3

2

1

Cheers of your classmates erupt besides you and you cannot help but smile at everyone’s happiness.

“It’s nice right? Every—”

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying before Jungkook’s chapped lips were on yours. His mouth is warm and inviting but you don’t make yourself at home. Instead, you stand absolutely still as Jungkook innocently moves his lips over yours. Before you can really react, Jungkook is pulling away: absolutely horrified.

“y/n…I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry,” Jungkook is quick to stutter out.

You are frozen. You wish you could blame something, anything, wish you could blame the flurries that floated down to the earths ground, wish you could blame the below freezing weather and your short mini skirt, wish you could blame anything for why you are standing absolutely frozen.

You wish you could move, but the universe just won’t allow it.

“Oh my god, y/n…I really am sorry…fuck…” Jungkook’s wide eyes are focused on his feet as he threads his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please forget about th—”

Jungkook’s lips may be a bit chapped but they are as soft and fluffy as you have once imagined. With your lips back on his, you take charge. You quickly move them over his, he hums in satisfaction. Your fingers find themselves in his dark locks, pushing up into his soft hair as his hand moves to cup your jaw.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and moan into his mouth when you feel him jerk his hips into yours.

“Let’s go to your place.” You heavily breathe out, your fingers dragging down the side of his face.

Jungkook disconnects himself from you, stepping back a good foot, inspecting your face,

“You sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure.”

“Are you thinking about that night?” You ask, your voice low.

“No.” he lies, “We promised we would never talk about it y/n. We don’t want to risk our friendship…” he pushes you back by the shoulders—gently, of course. “We need to forget about this kiss too. I fucked up. You’re in a bad place right now—”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. The guy you had feelings for was fucking using you y/n, of course you’re not fine.”

“Would if I want to kiss you Jungkook?”

You don’t believe your own ears as you ask that, but god, you have been holding all this in for 3 years. And he kissed you.

“You don’t. You’re throwing yourself at me because you’re in a bad place.”

You scoff, not believing his choice of words, “Throwing myself?”

“You—you know what I mean.”

“We agreed, didn’t we?” you take a step towards him. “We would never talk about that night, ya know, to save our friendship or whatever.” Another step. “But would If I don’t care anymore?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t care about our friendship anymore?” his tone soft and almost sad.

“I just mean, I wonder what more…no, forget it.”

“Yeah, forget it. You’re just sad about Taehyung.” He says more seriously. He backs himself into the wall, he continues to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants.

He…he isn’t wrong. You know what? You are sad. You’re sad Taehyung thought to use you the way he did…you’re sad your best friend didn’t tell you about it. And for what? Because he apparently has a secret of his own? Great, just another thing you don’t know about him. You don’t want to cry and you don’t think you will but that tightness in your throat is apparent and warning you of oncoming tears.

Jungkook lets out a frustrated breath as he pulls you back in to his chest…and you’re too weak to resist. You wrap your arms around him and breathe him in, his scent filling you up and making you feel more at home over and over again.

Jungkook’s hand trails up from your waist to the back of your head, he hated seeing you like this.

The first time Jungkook saw you cry was a couple of years ago in an abandoned parking lot in his old beat up car. Your boyfriend had just broken up with you and you let all the emotions build to the point that when the seatbelt wouldn’t god damn buckle, you lost it. You sat there struggling with the seatbelt trying to click it in the stupid hole thing and it just wouldn’t. Jungkook just watched you with pity as you continued to curse at it for not clicking. You finally gave up, letting the seatbelt crash against the side of the car as the water works began.

You cried like a baby, the tears falling helplessly and Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He knew not to ask why your boyfriend broke up with you but he had a hunch and he was eaten alive by guilt. It was probably the same reason the boyfriend before that broke up with you. Him.

You are obviously growing frustrated but you never, not once, took it out on Jungkook. Instead, you would say it’s fine that you hardly liked them anyway. But he also knew that was almost always a lie. You had this boyfriend that was more serious than the others—he felt it, he knew that this boyfriend would become priority and Jungkook had to be okay with that. But before things could deepen and become more serious…he dumped you.

This was the first time you actually cried over one of your breakups and Jungkook felt heartbroken, he felt lost and confused. This was his fault for being so close to you? But he chooses to be selfish again and again. Because he never distances himself from you, no, instead he somehow always becomes closer. He’s selfish and he knows why.

“Maybe you should take a nap…” Jungkook doesn’t want you to go to sleep. He just doesn’t want you to go. But he has to let you go…in more ways than one.

“Sleepover?” You don’t want to be alone right now.

“Not right now…” he gently pulls you off his body, his head tilted down to get a good look at you.

“I think we need some space y/n.” He almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, your face falls into a deep frown and he wants to take it back but he can’t.

“What do you mean?” You reach up to caress his face but he pushes his head back.

“I need time.” He states.

You begin shaking your head as you start to panic.

“Time for what?” you ask desperately.

“We just…don’t…” his words fall ill on his tongue, they’re on the verge of death but he pushes them out regardless.

“We aren’t working right now…I don’t know how else to say it.”

You shake your head more frantically.

“No Jungkook…” the tears that wouldn’t fall earlier begin to slide down your cheeks as you realize what he is saying.

“I’ll stay at Jimin’s for a while.”

“Jungkook please…I cannot be without you…” you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

“You can.” His hand reaches up to wipe away a few stray tears and you lean into his touch, loving the warmth his hand provides.

“I can’t.” you whimper into your shoulder, trying to hide your face. “What happened to ‘never leaving you’ huh?” you spit out.

“I’ll always be here for you y/n but right now I just need some time to think.” He says quietly, almost ashamed.

“Think about what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him and you wince at your own volume. What the hell does Jungkook even need to think about?

Jungkook knows that this is selfish but he has to…he has to put some distance until he can handle things again.

“y/n.” his tone warning you to be careful. Jungkook wants nothing more than to hold you and be here for you but for his own god damn sake he needs to get out of here, for his own fucking heart.

“I’ll be back in a few days, I promise…” he pleads, holding on to your waist again. “Just please give me a few days.”

You look into his giant doe eyes and you melt. You exhale through your nose and give him a troubled smile.

“Just a few days?” you look down at your feet, finding your shoes to be fascinating.

“I promise.”

Little did you know this was going to be the first promise Jungkook ever broke.

[kyuuppi]

Hey hey hey ^___^

May I request a little Drabble where Izaya fucks his gf in his coat? (She’s completely naked only wearing the coat)

Thank you so so much :)

Izaya fucks you in his coat (NSFW)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader (f)

Contents: Smut; dirty talk; fingering; cum eating; semi-clothed sex

A/N: I finally got around to this LOL I think I’m actually pretty awful at NSFW so I hope this is okay. :,)

Word Count: 1.2k

Izaya is a busy man and his work frequently takes him all over the city. It is rare that Izaya comes home before the sun has long set.

Naturally, you often find yourself bored when you’re left alone in his luxurious apartment—you can only watch the same anime reruns for so many hours, afterall.

On one such boring night alone, you have the idea to try on one of Izaya’s infamous fur-trimmed coats, taking advantage of how Izaya had left the piece of outerwear at home due to the recent hot weather.

You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of your back in the mirror, admiring how the fuzzy edges of the coat brush against your upper thighs, just barely covering your small pajama shorts. You felt giddy and, somehow, a little dangerous. Wearing the most distinctive piece of clothing of the infamous Orihara Izaya seems to have that effect on people.

For a moment you consider how lucky you are. No one else in the world—except maybe his sisters—would ever have the opportunity to snoop through Izaya’s closet, let alone actually wear his favorite clothing item.

You’re leaning back smugly with your hands in your pocket as a clear mimicry of one of Izaya’s frequent poses when a voice speaks up behind you.

“Well, well, what do we have here~?”

The deepness sends shivers down your spine and you spin around in apparent horror to face the man you didn’t expect to be around for at least another few hours.

“I-Izaya,” you stutter back weakly.

Your face is flushed with embarrassment at having been caught so very obviously stealing your boyfriend’s clothing for some poor attempt at cosplay in the bedroom mirror. Perhaps it would be better if he were the type to get angry, you think as you watch his vermilion eyes very slowly racking up and down your body, but instead you know Izaya to be the type who enjoys to tease rather than punish. He will undoubtedly never let you live this down.

“I’m almost jealous,” Izaya lilts, taking a step forward until your bodies are close enough to feel each other’s body heat. He occupies your personal spacing, leaving no room to look away so you’re forced to look at his chest, covered in the soft black fabric of a t-shirt slightly clinging to his chest from sweat.

The coat suddenly feels much warmer than it did before.

“You look better in it than I do,” he coos, raising one hand to brush against your cheek gently.

The action would be cute if it were anyone else but the wide smirk on Izaya’s face promises much darker intentions.

“Y’know, wearing your boyfriend’s clothes like this—it’s kind of erotic.”

His other hand brushes against the back of your bare thigh and your breath hitches.

“Nee, you planned this didn’t you? You’re so sly, Y/n-chan,” Izaya accuses, pressing forward until your back meets the wall and you’re physically pressed against him. The contrast of the hard planes of his lean muscle against your soft body can be felt even between the thick coat you wear and it makes you feel light-headed.

The hand on your cheek tilts your head up so that he can capture your lips. The intensity he bears leaves no room for you to even attempt to fight for dominance and your mind nearly blanks and you allow him to ravage you, his tongue claiming every corner of your mouth as his own.

When he finally breaks away you can’t help but to whine pitifully at the loss, your spit-slicked lips rapidly cooling in the open air. He chuckles and it makes something in your gut clench.

“Don’t worry, Y/n-chan, I’ll give you what you want,” he promises, both hands moving to push down the waistband of your shorts.

You don’t put up any resistance when he slips the fabric down your legs, nore when he finally slips the heavy coat down your shoulders to remove the loose shirt you wear underneath. He effortlessly picks you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his hips as he gently deposits you onto your bed less than a meter away.

When he pulls away you expect him to finally start removing his own clothing but instead you gasp in surprise as a soft weight is tossed on your chest. Looking down you recognize it as the coat he has just taken off of you and you look up to eye him in confusion, head tilting slightly and brows furrowed.

He chuckles as your expression and rests his palms on your bent knees, searing your skin and making goosebumps rise along your thighs.

“Put it on, Y/n-chan. I want to fuck you while you’re wearing my coat.”

Your heartbeat falters and your face feels like it’ll combust at how he stares at you so intently, as if he hadn’t just said the lewdest thing you’ve ever heard but you follow his directions obediently and fumble to put the faux fur coat on.

Somehow, being wrapped in Izaya’s coat, surrounded by his scent, feels more exposing than being completely nude.

Izaya uses the hands on your knees to spread your legs open, exposing your wet pussy to him. His hands lightly trail down your thighs teasingly to reach your core, silently relishing in you gently tremble beneath him, shy but eager. You’re always such a good girl for him.

He pushes two fingers inside without warning, making your whole body jerk as your cry out at the sudden intrusion. The cold metal of his ring sends shock waves through you and you can only whine as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelches embarrassingly loud to your own ears.

“You’re soaking,” Izaya comments unhelpfully, a crooked smirk making it obvious he had only said it to embarrass you further.

You try to make a sound of annoyance but he curls his fingers up, pressing into something squishy within your doughy insides that make the sound that leaves your throat nothing more than desperate.

He works you to your end diligently, one hand stretching you with his fingers, occasionally spreading them apart inside of you or curling up to brush against sweet spots while his other hand’s thumb rubs circles over your clit relentlessly. When you finally peak he allows you to ride it out, continuing his motions until you’re jerking from over-sensitivity and pushing him from between your thighs.

Through bleary vision you see how his fingers catch the dim bedroom lighting, dripping with your clear fluids before he brings them to his mouth, noisily slurping at them. It was not an action intended to tease you—he isn’t even looking at you when he does it, he’s too busy attempting to unbutton his black jeans with his other hand. The realization makes you clench around nothing.

When Izaya finally releases his length you feel it rather than see it, the head pressed hot against your folds while his large hands move under the fabric of the coat to grab the natural dip of your waist possessively.

“Ready?” he asks, watching your face closely.

It is one of the rare few times he seems serious.

You nod and grip the edge of your sleeves as he pushes forward.

[drabbles-mc]

One of Them Girls

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by @lakamaa12: I have a request.. if you don't want to do it, no worries (or it's been done by another blog and I missed it).I was wondering if you would consider writing something with Angel based around the song One of Them Girls by Lee Brice?

(Part 2 can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being the cutie we know he is

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: To the best of my knowledge, no one else has written an Angel fic for this song yet! If you have and I didn’t see it, my bad! But real talk I’ve been obsessed with this song lately and I wanted to write a fic for it so I’m super glad you sent this my way. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ (If you want to be tagged let me know! xo)

Your roommate had been trying for months to get you to go to one of the MC parties with her. She knew them from working at Vicki’s and she swore that you would have a good time if you just came to the clubhouse with her.

“Just for a couple hours,” she pleaded as she stood in the doorway to your room, “and if you’re really not having a good time, we can leave and I’ll never bother you about it again. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against your headboard, “Fine. Just so you won’t bother me about it anymore.”

She beamed, “Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun,” you could practically see the thoughts racing through her head, “Wear those skinny jeans that make your butt look good.”

You groaned, “You’re gonna dress me, too?”

She laughed, “It’s just a friendly suggestion.”

It was a suggestion that you begrudgingly took her up on. She really wasn’t that pushy about what to wear, but she knew that she was able to nudge you out of your comfort zone a little bit sometimes. You’d ended up with a simple, low-cut black tank top, the jeans she had suggested, and a pair of black boots. You weren’t going to risk snapping your ankle in a pair of heels when you didn’t know what you’d be walking into.

Elena may have been persistent, but she was a woman of her word. She stayed by you when you first arrived, knowing the scene was a little overwhelming when you first walk into it. You weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting, but this wasn’t quite what you had pictured in your mind. It was a little tamer, a little less chaotic than your brain had been telling you it would be.

“C’mon,” she tugged you towards the bar, “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Elena, who are all these people?” you asked quietly as you scanned the room.

She started pointing out the members of the MC one by one, telling you their names and a few fun facts about each. Some of the facts were a little more information than you cared to know, but she got you to laugh. Some of the girls you recognized because they’d come over and hang out at your apartment sometimes, and it was nice to know that you knew more than just one person at the party. They said there was power in numbers, right?

“Hey, querida,” a voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Elena turned, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she walked up to the man who had been speaking to her and letting him scoop her up in a hug, “Angel, hey!”

He set her down and his eyes found their way over to you. You felt small under the weight of his gaze but you tried not to let it show. He glanced back to Elena, “You brought a friend?”

She laughed, nodding, “Angel, this is my roommate, and best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Angel, the biggest pain in the ass in the MC.”

He placed a hand over his chest, an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face, “Right to my heart.”

The three of you laughed and you shook your head slightly, the nerves beginning to dissipate a little bit. You weren’t expecting him to plop down on the stool next to yours, but he did. You looked over to Elena, as if to ask if you should be worried about anything. She flashed you a smile as she sat down on the other side of you, giving your arm a light, reassuring squeeze as she reached for her drink.

“So what questionable decisions led you here tonight?” he asked with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Just throwing Elena a bone. She’s been wanting me to come here with her for a while.”

“Didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of degenerates?” there was a playful smirk on his face.

You smiled, “More like I didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of people in general,” you laughed, “I’m a bit of a homebody.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena piped in with a smile.

The three of you sat at the bar and talked for a little while. You could tell that Angel was trying to get a read on you, the new girl. You couldn’t be mad because you were doing the same thing to him. He was smooth, flirtatious, but not overbearingly so. That was a game you’d be willing to play for the night while you pacified your friend. If you were going to be forced to socialize, there were worse people to look at while doing it.

Elena must’ve gotten the vibe from you, because she politely excused herself from the conversation, letting you know that she wouldn’t be far if you decided that you wanted to bail and go home. You saw the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked away though, knowing that you were having a much better time there than you’d ever admit.

“So I gotta know,” Angel asked as he idly toyed with the beer bottle in his hands, “how does a homebody like you end up rooming with Miss “Life of the Party” Elena?”

You laughed, trying not to stare at the way his ringed fingers traced and curled around the neck of his beer bottle, “We actually had a few classes together our first year in college,” you shook your head, “Nothing bonds two people together like suffering through statistics classes together.”

He chuckled, “Fuck that.”

“That was exactly how we felt.”

The longer the two of you talked, the more he tested his boundaries. He wasn’t pushy, or inappropriate, but he was definitely trying to figure out what made you tick. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction so quickly, though. You bantered back and forth with him, and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had you laughing so hard.

Angel was in the middle of an incredibly cheesy pickup line that he swore has worked for him before when the song coming through the speakers changed. You couldn’t help but to perk up a little bit at the familiar beat and Angel noticed the shift immediately. He watched you for a moment as he tried to feel out the situation.

“Wanna dance?”

You shook your head no with zero hesitation, “No thank you.”

He laughed, “C’mon, why not? Live a little.”

You smiled but didn’t move to get up from your stool, “I’m sure there are plenty of women here tonight that would love to dance with you, Angel.”

He didn’t push the topic any further. You were smiling but he could see the flash of emotion in your eyes and he knew that there was something there that you weren’t ready to tap into yet with him. So, instead, he got you another beer and delved back into his cheesy pickup line story. When you realized that he was going to move past what you just said and not make it awkward, the tension immediately melted out of your body. You gladly took the beer bottle from him as you listened him ramble into another story.

“Yo, Angel,” Coco called from the pool table, “get over here. Bring your friend, we need two more.”

“You play pool?” Angel asked you, curious to your answer.

You shrugged as you hopped off the stool, “I mean I know how to.”

He laughed as he followed you across the clubhouse, “That’s not a super reassuring answer, querida.”

“Man, fuck him. You can be on my team,” Coco said with a laugh, “He and Gilly can fend for themselves.”

There was something reassuring and welcoming about the way that Coco spoke to you—like he had known you for years. He handed you your pool stick, smile still plastered onto his face. This wasn’t how you had originally pictured your night going, but you weren’t upset about it.

About halfway through the game, Angel was pissed that he didn’t try to team up with you. You and Coco were on a hot-streak and he really didn’t expect that from you. He shook his head as you sank another shot, and you had to laugh at the way that Coco was able to effectively gloat with just a simple look thrown Angel’s way.

“I mean I know how to,” Angel mocked you with a laugh as he shook his head, watching you line up to take another shot, “Can’t believe you fuckin’ hustled me.”

You laughed, “I don’t think you can call it hustling if there’s no money involved. You’re just mad because we’re about to whoop your ass.”

He chuckled and glanced over at Coco, “Don’t look so smug, Coco. She’s fuckin’ carrying you right now.”

The game wrapped up quickly with you and Coco both doing so well. Gilly had been more than content to sit back and watch it all happen, reveling in the fact that someone, and someone new at that, was kicking Angel’s ass at pool. Angel was shaking his head as he set his stick aside, still trying to figure out how all of that just happened. For someone who claimed that they didn’t like going out and doing things, you seemed to be full of surprises.

“Since I am a gracious winner,” you said with a laugh as you let Coco put your stick away, “I’ll buy you all a drink.”

Angel went to protest, not wanting you to be buying anything for any of them, but Gilly slapped his chest to stop him. The look on Gilly’s face made it very evident that no matter how cute the girl was, none of them were about to be turning down free drinks. Angel laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

As the night wore on, slowly but surely people began to trickle out of the clubhouse. You hadn’t really talked to Elena since you got wrapped up playing pool with the guys, but the two of you kept an eye on one another. Every now and then she’d shoot you a look, one that asked if you needed to get out, and you would just shake your head. She’d smile, sometimes throw you a wink, before getting wrapped back up into whatever she was doing. You knew that she was just glad to get you out of the house and socializing with people.

You and Angel were sitting next to each other on the couch talking, keeping your conversation low in the midst of music and noise still filling the clubhouse. You were shaking your head at him as he told you about some of the scrapes he’d gotten into with his brother, someone that you knew you’d also love to sit and have a conversation with eventually.

Elena walked up and gave you a nudge, smiling when you turned to her, “Not trying to rush you, but I think a couple of the girls and I are gonna head out. You want me to bring you home before I go with them?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave. But she was your ride, so it wasn’t like you were going to have much of a choice. Just as you were about to speak up and say you’d get ready to leave, Angel interrupted, “I can take you home if you want.”

You glanced back at him, arching one eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yea,” he shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind.”

Elena bit at her bottom lip, trying to fight back a smile, “You good with that, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Yea, I think so,” you laughed, “Worst case scenario I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Jesus,” Angel laughed.

Elena shook her head with a grin as she leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Text me when you’re home. Love you.”

“Love you too. Text when you get to wherever the hell you guys are all going,” you chuckled.

“Will do,” she turned and hugged Angel, “Get her home safe, or I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded, trying hard not to laugh because he knew that she was serious, “Yes ma’am.”

When she was gone and it was just the two of you again, things felt a little different. You suddenly became very aware of the way that his arm was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers almost brushing against your shoulder. Despite the number of people that were still in the clubhouse, it felt like it was just you two left. Everything else felt farther away.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” he leaned in a little closer to you and took a sip of his beer, “Because I feel like you’re not from around here.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I’m not. I’m from the East Coast—came out this way for college,” you laughed, “Very cliché, I know.”

“Ah, you’re one of them girls, huh?”

“Who are them girls?” you chuckled.

“Had to get the hell outta dodge?”

You smiled and nodded, not really wanting to get into the details of your decisions, “Something like that.”

“You musta broke a lot of hearts when you left,” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, “Wouldn’t know—haven’t been back to find out.”

Somewhere along the line of your conversation, the two of you had gotten very comfortable. You had your legs pulled up underneath you as you leaned into him, his hand resting lightly on the nape of your neck. Every now and then when you laughed your hand would come to rest on his thigh for a moment or two before you pulled it back to your own body. He wasn’t bold enough to say it but he wished that you’d leave it there.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and you looked around the clubhouse, seeing that the two of you were some of the last people there. You checked your phone, seeing that you had gotten the safety update from your roommate almost an hour before and hadn’t noticed from being so enthralled with Angel.

“You got that look on your face like you gotta get going,” Angel said knowingly.

You sighed, “Yea, unfortunately I still have to go and do life stuff tomorrow,” there was a hint of laughter to your voice.

His thumb traced idly along the exposed skin at the base of your neck, “We can take the bike, if you want.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, helping you to do the same, “Something tells me you’ll be fine.”

The two of you walked out of the clubhouse, Angel’s hand settling on the small of your back. The chilly night air hit your skin and sent a chill through you. Without a second thought, Angel peeled off his sweatshirt that he’d put on and handed it over to you. You started to shake your head no but he wordlessly pushed the hoodie into your hands. You gave in with a smile, pulling it down over your head. It was warm, and you were practically swimming in the fabric, but you didn’t mind.

He let you use his helmet, and you settled behind him after climbing onto the bike. Your hands were lightly resting on his waist and he pulled your arms tighter around him, causing you to press flush up against his back.

“Don’t be shy, querida,” he chuckled, “For your own safety as much as anything else.”

You laughed, thankful that he couldn’t see the sheepish smile on your face as you let your body rest against his. The bike came to life underneath you and you nervously wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, and you could feel him laughing despite the fact that you couldn’t hear him over the noise of the bike.

Slowly you eased into the ride, your nerves subsiding a little bit. Angel must’ve felt the tension dissipating because he picked up the speed a little bit, causing you to laugh and tighten your hold on him. You knew that Angel knew the way to yours and Elena’s apartment, so you knew that he was taking the long way there. As much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want him to think that you minded. It was a peaceful, freeing feeling to be riding with him.

He rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building. You hopped off the bike, handing him back his helmet. The two of you stood there and you knew that he could feel the same type of tension in the air that you felt. For a night that you really hadn’t been looking forward to, it was the best time that you’d had in a while.

You went to take his sweatshirt off to give back to him but he shook his head at you, “Nah, keep it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded with a smirk on his face, “Yea. Just give it back next time I see you.”

You smiled, “Next time? Who said I’m coming back to the clubhouse?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Damn, you and Elena are both out to keep my ego in check, huh?”

“It’s good for you,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the fact that you felt nervous, trying to figure out how to say goodnight.

“But really,” he stepped in a little closer to you, forcing you to tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eye, “I’d really like to be able to see you again.”

You managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous. You could see him racing to try and come up with a follow-up statement to get himself out of being rejected, and you let yourself smile as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, “Had me worried for a second,” he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Can’t make it too easy for you.”

He smiled, “Can I have your number? Or do I gotta level up for that?”

You rolled your eyes as you held your hand out, “Give me your phone before I change my mind.”

He chuckled as he dug it out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of your hand. He watched you intently as you plugged your number in, smiling as you handed it back to him, “This your real number? Or one of those rejection hotlines?”

You smirked, “Guess you’ll have to call me and find out. One time I gave some dude the number that would just play the John Cena theme song over and over again. That was…peak rejection.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring for me, you get that, right?” he laughed.

You smiled and shook your head, “It’s my real number, promise,” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks for bringing me home.”

He couldn’t hide that he was surprised by the gesture. A huge smile spread across his face as he nodded, “Yea, any time.”

“Get home safe.”

He nodded, “I will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trapping the heat against your body as you watched him get back on his bike and strap his helmet on. He flashed you another smile and you waved him off.

You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned around and made your way into your building. The walk up to your apartment seemed much shorter as you replayed the night over in your head. You turned the key in the lock and stepped in, glad to be home but simultaneously wishing that the night wasn’t over yet. You showered and threw your pajamas on, falling into your bed with a happy sigh. After shutting the light off and settling in underneath your blanket, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached over to see who it was, and smiled when you saw a message waiting for you from a new number.

“Home safe. Sweet dreams” after a few seconds a second text came in, “It’s Angel by the way”

You chuckled as you typed out your reply, ‘Thanks for the clarification. Got worried for a second”

“Just tryna be sweet and you can’t let me have it, can you?”

“Nope” you were laughing in the quiet darkness of your room.

“Alright. Sweet nightmares then. Goodnight”

You could picture his face and you couldn’t stop smiling, “Goodnight xo”

You set your phone off to the side again, settling back down underneath your covers. Your body wanted to sleep but your brain was too busy replaying the entire night over again and you couldn’t stop smiling.

[quartzwriting]

Attack in The Library

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: Stephen sends you to Kamar Taj to get some books, but some invaders attack you. Stephen comes to the rescue, and he’s not happy.

Warnings: Fighting and violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev  // School has be busy so one shots that are already on my quotev will be reposted here, all requests on hold for now sorry // Originally requested by Coppercat615 on quotev <3

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

You had just finished a meditation and astral projection practice session on the Sanctum rooftop. The background noise of the frantic and angry city below sometimes helped you focus. It was just what you needed today. Feeling relaxed, accomplished, and satisfied, you went back inside to see what Stephen was up to. It was getting close to noon, and maybe you could pull him away from his studies for a little to grab lunch together.

Stephen was standing over his desk in his office, a few books open before him and his eyes darting from one to the next. He looked deep in thought and you almost did not want to bother him. The Sorcerer Supreme in his natural habitat, it was like there was naturally a 'do not disturb' sign plastered onto him. You did anyways.

"Hey Stephen, I finished my practice."

"How did it go?" He did not even look up from his books.

"Pretty good!" You walked up to the desk and rested your hands on it, trying to see what he was looking at even though it was upside down for you. "Looking for something?"

He shrugged and flipped one of the books around so you could see it the right way up. The book was old and small, the wear and tear from over the years showing through its pages. There was writings in characters you did not understand scribbled across the page, directions for a spell you assumed. He then showed you another book that had the same letters translated to English, but there were so many variations of each and it looked hard to decipher.

"I've been trying to decode this spell. This is the only instance of it in writing. The Ancient One left it behind but I cannot seem to understand it." There was a frustration in his voice and you could tell from his messy hair that he had been running his hands through it in said frustration.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." You handed him back the books.

"Hey (Y/N), can you do me a big favor?"

Curiosity struck you, "What is it?"

"Can you head over to the Kamar Taj library and find these books for me."

Stephen handed you a list on a piece of paper. Titles and authors were listed in his slightly messy handwriting. You counted six books.

"Why can't you go get them yourself?"

"I'm busy."

He did have those books in front of him, certainly looking busy. But he could go over there himself and it would only take about ten minutes. It felt like an excuse to you.

You gave him a look, before growling under your breath, "Fine. I'll get you your books..."

Raising up your hand that had your sling ring, you started to conjure up a portal before Stephen interrupted you.

"No, take the door."

"Seriously?"

"You can't rely on magic for everything, (Y/N)."

"Well that door is magic too, you idiot. What do you want me to do? Jump on the next flight to Nepul?"

"Just stop complaining and go take the door."

You rolled your eyes and stomped off down the hallway and towards the door that connected the Sanctum to the two others and Kamar Taj. He did that all the time, scolding you for using magic for minor conveniences. Whether it be you quickly grabbing something from across the Sanctum with a portal or teleporting to the other side of the room for split second. The thing is was that he did it sometimes. When you pointed it out he just told you to shut up. Typical.

Walking through the door that lead directly to Kamar Taj, you entered the library and found just how like a library should be: calm and silent. It was nighttime in Kathmandu so the lack of people in the place did not surprise you. But when you walked past a few shelves, you saw Wong with a stack of books in his arms.

"Hey Wong." You said cheerily, coming up beside him to look on the same shelf he was organizing the books onto.

He bowed his head, "Master (L/N)."

Your mouth formed a tight line for a split second, "How many times have I told you to just call me (Y/N)?"

"Well it is out of respect," He replied, and you shrugged a little in understanding, "But on your word, (Y/N)."

You smiled and went back to looking for one of the books on the shelf. It had some weird and long title, you scanned the book spines for it.

It still felt a little weird when others would call you that, Master (L/N). It came with the feeling that you were in a high position. You kind of were, being taught personally by the Sorcerer Supreme himself. Not to mention being his girlfriend. The people around Kamar Taj and the other sanctums treated you with a lot of respect. Sometimes you did not feel like you deserved it, you still felt like you and being a master of the mystic arts did not change that.

You shook the thought away from your head as you found yourself not even reading the titles. You went back over while Wong moved to the other side of the library to keep working. Then you found it, it was a bigger book. When you took it off the shelf the weight of it dug into your hands. This made you hope the others were smaller, otherwise you would be taking a big stack of heavy books back home. That could be dangerous due to your sometimes clumsy nature.

Opening it to a random page, it was full of runes with descriptions of their spells. You feathered through more pages and they were like that, covered in artworks of detailed images of runes. Then you remembered that Stephen was working on a lot of rune magic recently so it made sense. You closed the book and tucked it against your chest as you moved to another shelf to keep on looking.

While you were reading the little list of books, there was a sudden sound. It was soft. It was very familiar. It was the sound of a slingring portal opening. You turned around, looking towards where the sound came from. From in between the shelves and the tops of books, you saw a figure and the sparks from a portal. You did not recognize the figure, but on a closer look it was a man with black and red robes. For some reason the sight of him was slightly unsettling.

What happened next confirmed your suspicions.

He walked right up behind Wong. Just as Wong turned around at the sound of heavy footsteps, the sorcerer made a fast motion with his hands that made sparks explode from his fists. The energy shot into Wong and he was soon on the floor.

You quickly ducked behind a bookshelf, tucking the book you held tightly against your chest. That came out of nowhere and you assumed it was an attack. Wong was now unconscious and no one else was around. At this hour not many sorcerers were up and about around Kamar Taj. So you guessed it was up to you to stop it.

There were two more portals opened, and the first man instructed someone to look for 'it'. The 'it' they were referring to was probably a book, what else would they raid a library for? It could be any one in this whole library, so you needed to do something before they found what they were looking for.

Sneaking in between the shelves, you tried to think of a plan of action. The adrenaline was already pumping and your heart racing. This kind of distracted you from the planning, but you managed to think of something.

You heard someone nearby tossing books off the shelves, ones that were not what they needed. You slowly made your way closer, your boots against the floorboards not making a sound. Carefully, you summoned energy to create a whip, hoping that the sound of the sparks would not give you away. You threw your magic, the rope wrapping around the sorcerer's ankle and you pulled it back. The man fell to the floor and you cracked the whip on top of him to keep him down.

Before you could land another strike, something from behind grabbed your hand as it was raised up. While turning your head to see what happened, you were struck with a very powerful punch. It send you right down to the ground, the book skidding across the floor as it was knocked from your hands. You scrambled to get rid of your dazed vision and to grab the book again. When you felt the hard cover and clutched it to you chest, three figures were standing over you.

"We're going to need that."

You looked down at the book that you were clenching to your chest, the thick volume was one of the books that Stephen wanted you to bring back. Of course it had to be the exact book you were holding. From the looks of the group, and what they had did to Wong, you knew you could not let them get their hands on this book.

Looking him right in the eyes you said a calm but stern "No." Your eyes were full of seriousness and daring, but inside you knew you were insecure. You were scared.

"We thought we did not need to hurt anyone today." The woman with a thick accent peered at you, a glint in her eyes that you did not like.

You would not stand down though.

Thinking quickly, you cast a teleportation spell and hid yourself among the maze of shelves. From across the library you heard the three separate to search for you. You were still dizzy from that punch, knowing there was going to be a mark on your face later. You teleported again, hoping to get away from them.

Big mistake.

You accidentally appeared right in the sight of one of them. He warned the others and started running towards you. You were in the middle of summoning a spell to protect yourself when from in between the bookshelves the woman slid right past you and struck you in the leg. Soon there was a sting running down your leg and something hot started to coat the leggings you wore underneath your robes. You let out a cry and collapsed onto the ground. Feeling a boot kick itself into the back of your head, you seethed with pain and blurry vision.

"Well that was easy." One of them said going to pick up the book you had dropping in the impact.

"This one is weak, convenient for our mission."

There was another kick that went through you, this time to your stomach. Then again. And again. It felt like the air from your lungs was being forced out, being unable to breathe. Your head was ringing, your leg burning, and your very existence aching.

And they were laughing while it was all happening.

"Make one more move and I'll kill you where you stand."

The deep voice came suddenly, purring the threat out to the attackers.

The hits instantly stopped. You leaned on your elbow to prop yourself up, struggling against the weakness that had over come you. Looking up at Stephen as your vision was starting to become clear again, you saw a darkness in his eyes. This said that all hell was about to break loose.

He used the word 'kill'. Stephen would not kill anyone. Whenever he fought, he did it without the intention of harming his opponent. That was probably one of the doctor qualities he kept, swearing not to hurt anyone.

But this darkness you could see in him. It was unsettling. You felt a chill go about the room. You knew it had nothing to do with temperature.

The gang looked taken aback from his sudden appearance and froze in place, he must have teleported in. The expressions that washed over their faces told you that they recognized him. They were being threatened by the Sorcerer Supreme, his cloak flaring out to make him look bigger and a death glare staring them down.

"How dare you touch her."

The attackers broke out into a run, but Stephen was right on their heels.

You tried to crawl over to a bookshelf to lean against for support, but it took a while since the pain was so strong. You started to grow dizzy again from moving, your breath heaving in your chest. With your vision all fuzzy and body refusing to cooperate, all you could do was listen.

What you heard was brutal.

There were sounds of magic, struggle, heavy breathing, grunts, cries of pain. Also you might have heard the snap of a broken bone, which made your skin crawl a little. Stephen sounded mad. Very mad. What you realized that there was less sounds of magic, but more sounds of physical fighting. You could only imagine what was happening. It scared you a little. When Stephen got angry it was usually bad, but you have never seen (heard) anything like this. The fight continued out if your sight until the sounds stopped. You did not know if your attackers had escaped, been subdued, been knocked out...or worse...but you had no way to tell. You did not know if you wanted to ask him later either.

Stephen snapped back out of his fury-filled state, it being quickly replaced by concern and anxiety. There you were on the other side of the library, leaning on a bookcase and clutching at your leg. He noticed the trail of blood smeared on the ground from where you were pulling yourself across the ground, a deep red soaking your robes. Retaliation hit him that you were stabbed.

He rushed over to you. Kneeling down over your figure, his eyes darting everywhere in concern, he took you in his arms. "It's alright, you're okay."

"Stephen, it hurts..." You tried to say, but it came out as a quiet breath.

"I know." You were surprised he heard you. "Don't worry I'm right here."

He had to act quickly. What he needed to do was get you somewhere safe, clean your wound and stitch it up, and lay you down just encase you had a concussion. The weakness in your body and the pained look on your face made him want to let out more rage, but also hold you close until you were better.

"Okay," He took a breath and recollected himself. "I'm going to take you home. I'm going to lift you up. This is going to hurt. Deep breath for me." He reached around your body, one hand under your knees and the other supporting your back. He counted down so you could brace yourself for the jolt of pain he knew would hit you as soon as you moved. On one, Stephen lifted you up in a controlled motion, his muscles aching a little from fighting the attackers. You let out a cry as soon as the pain came and clung onto his neck and shoulders, you needed him there through it.  

You desperately held on, wishing it was over the entire way. Stephen would have used a portal to get you home faster but his hands needed to carry you. He carried you through the door and you were back in New York in no time. But for you the pain made it feel like a lifetime. He brought you to the bedroom which was close by. As carefully as he could, he put you down on top of the covers. The pain slowed to a quiet beat as you began to relax.

Stephen rushed out of the room to go find a first aid kit. Once he found one, hidden in the back of a closet in the hallway outside, he came back right by your side and started to rummage through the box. As he was doing so, he came to the realization that this was gonna be difficult. His hands. His hands shake more when he was panicking. And in that moment they were trembling like crazy. Seeing you like this, the hurt and the worry he felt. It went right to his hands, bringing back the state they were in when he was stripped away of everything he had. When he felt hopeless.

But he told himself to push past it. Because he needed to help you.

Before he did anything else, he put down the first aid kit. Raising his hands up and making a few sharp movements with his hands, energy summoned and made a little rune in front of him. His hands absorbed the bright colours. The shaking slowed, almost to a compete stop. Now he could work. Trying to remember his basic studies from medical school, he began to tend to the gash in your leg.

~~~

You had passed out from being so tired and being in so much pain. When you woke up, it was dark outside and it was a little colder in the bedroom. Stephen was still beside you, sitting at your bedside currently looking through a book that had a title that implied the pages contained mystical information on healing. There was this look in his eyes, like he was trying to stay calm. You could only imagine the rushing thoughts running through his head. Once he realized you had woken up, he put his book down like he was called to attention.

"How you feeling?"

"Dizzy..."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You're going to be just fine." He said, moving a little closer to you. "The stab wound is not too deep, needed to be stitched up. Bruising on your torso and arms." He gestured to the areas as he spoke. "You also got hit in the head pretty bad, maybe a concussion so you need to rest." He pulled the warm blanket further up to cover your cold body.

You have not seen Stephen in doctor mode in a while. It was comforting, knowing he knew exactly how to treat something and how to take care of you. You smiled at him, remembering back when he was a surgeon. He might have changed as a person from doctor to sorcerer, but he kept a few qualities.

"Is Wong alright?" You asked, suddenly remembering that little detail from the attack.

"He's fine. I made sure someone is watching over him."

You nodded, instantly regretting making the movement as it came with a headache.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine."

Then you remembered something else. Earlier you did not think you were going to ask about it. But you needed to. It was nagging you in the back of your thoughts.

"What did you do to them?"

He paused. "I stopped them from hurting you." You thought he was going to stop there. He was, it if were not for the look you gave him to keep going. "I beat them up. I know it was wrong. I was just so angry. I did not like what I saw. Them hurting you like that."

You noticed he kind of dodged your question directly. He gave no details of what he physically did to them. Even with your worry and slight curiosity, you did not press him for the answer you wanted.

You understood why he did it though. He was full of rage and it overtook his mind. But that did not excuse his actions, and you knew he knew it too. He looked a little ashamed of it. He was never good at controlling his anger. You reached out your hand and rested your palm on his cheek. You did not need to say anything because from the look in his eyes you could tell he understood your gesture. Bending down, he kissed your forehead again. Angry Stephen was gone, now it was just protective Stephen.

"One more thing." You said.

He hummed in response.

"You stitched me up?"

He nodded.

"But...your hands..."

"I learned a new rune that suppresses nervousness and its physical reactions."

You had to let out a little laugh, "Of course." Must have been from his recent rune studies because that was new.

"I had to do what I needed to." Shrugging, he gave a smile.

"What about your gloves?"

"I did not have time to go get them," He replied, this made you smile.

The rest of the night consisted of Stephen staying up with you and making sure you were comfortable. He brought you pain killers for your sore muscles and headache, something for you to eat, and anything else you needed. He let you cuddle up to him to rest and stay warm. You had made him renew his promise, and to make a new promise to you, that he would never hurt anyone like that ever again. He agreed and you could see the shame and guilt in his eyes. But you knew he did it to protect you even if his anger had taken over. You both fell asleep into the night, Stephen there to protect you.

[myfavoriteinvestment]

rowaelin month day 1 - can’t help falling in love

prompt: "I just realized I'm desperately in love with you"

-

Meeting Aelin for the first time, Rowan begrudged that she was beautiful. Arrogant as he could be and incessantly swaggering, but she was beautiful. There was something sweet, and yet so sharp, about her features. His eyes traced them greedily the first, the second, the third time he met her, and even today, as she set her bag next to his in the library and took a seat across from him he couldn't help it. He absorbed every bit of her; golden hair and aquamarine eyes ringed with gold. The small nose, sharp but softened by the sun kissed freckles scattered along it. The cheekbones that framed her face and lips painted a threatening shade of red.

"So, Rowan, what'll it be today?" Aelin asked, pulling out her notebook and flipping her hair over one shoulder. He didn't know it yet, but it was a nervous tic.

"The same as yesterday, Aelin. Calculus." He gave her a long suffering look and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was beautiful, but it didn't make tutoring her any easier.

"No originality." She sighed. "How disappointing."

"Let's just start."

So they began, and Rowan questioned not for the first time why she had bothered asking their teacher for a peer tutor. She was clearly skilled. She knew what she was doing. He worked up the courage and asked for the first time.

"I'm pretty busy," She explained. "I just want to make sure that I'm understanding everything and that I know what I'm doing, you know? Sometimes I'm so tired in class and I just want to make sure I'm getting everything. Sorry if that makes this seem like a waste of time." Rowan shook his head. He admired her dedication to her education. He certainly cared for his own, but not this much.

"No, I don't mind at all. I have hockey, but that doesn't really start for a while."

"Right, right, you're on the hockey team! You just don't seem like it when we're sitting in the library and you're teaching me math, you know?"

"And you don't seem like the type to be aspiring for Julliard, but here we are."

"Shhh!" Aelin exaggerated. "That's a secret!" Rowan looked at her pointedly.

As he opened his mouth to say something, another boy walked up to the table they were sitting at. Rowan recognized him. He was a year younger, in Aelin's grade.

"Chaol! What're you doing here? I'd expect Dorian at the library, but you're usually at the gym." Chaol. That was his name. And Aelin seemed to know him, seemed to be very familiar with him in fact. And who was Dorian. Rowan found that these questions rose no matter how hard he tried to tamp them down.

Chaol's cheeks were coated in a slight blush. "Could I talk to you, just the two of us?"

Did he plan on asking Aelin out? Rowan couldn't deny that no matter how much he ignored it, a part of him hoped that wouldn't happen.

"What do you say tutor? Can the two of us finish for the day?"

The other part knew that was stupid, because that was it really. He was her tutor, and maybe they were friends. Acquaintances probably. It wasn't something he wanted to think too much about. So he mumbled a yes and hoped Aelin heard him, beginning to pack his things.

And he froze, because Aelin kissed him on the cheek. Then ran off with Chaol, behind the bookshelves.

Fuck this, he thought. Fuck the searing heat in the spot her lips had pressed against his skin, fuck the fluttering in his stomach, fuck his uneven heartbeat. Fuck the lipstick smudge on his cheek. Still, he bit his lip hard enough to hurt to hold back he didn't know what. A smile? Maybe.

He stood from their table and then Aelin and Chaol popped back out of the bookshelves. "Guess who has a date?" She sing songed. The lightness in his chest turned sticky and heavy like tar and it became hard to breathe. "Me, stupid. God, don't look at me like that, it's not that confusing!"

"That's- it's nice."

"It's very nice, Rowan, thank you very much. See you tomorrow? I'll tell you all about it after you teach me fancy math, I promise." Aelin smiled and whirled around, walking out of the library with Chaol.

After that, Rowan had no choice but to come to terms with his feelings for Aelin. He didn't just think she was beautiful, she was funny and her wit and swagger was captivating. Conversations with her were entertaining and he noticed the small things she did, like the way she narrowed her eyes when she concentrated or sighed under her breath when she didn't understand.

Tutoring sessions were his time with her, but they became almost unbearable. Chaol stopped by every day within the first hour of their two hour session, dropping off a coffee that he could tell was too bitter and kissing Aelin before going about his own business.

In March, when colleges were sending acceptance letters out, Rowan would be lying if he said Aelin wasn't the first person texted when Yale sent him the letter saying he got it. The next day, Rowan found Aelin at their table, books and papers out, two cups of steaming liquid. She looked up as he set his things down and smiled wide at him.

"How does it feel to know you're going to an Ivy?" She asked, and passed him a cup. He pried off the lid and smiled when the sweet smell of jasmine tea wafted up to him. He preferred it to coffee. Aelin, though was drinking coffee, and he suspected it had far too much sugar for it to be healthy.

"It feels great. And nerve wracking, honestly." He replied. She nodded.

"Yeah, I can see how. I'd be freaked out too if I got into such a prestigious college."

"And maybe you will." He raised his brows. "Julliard?"

She sighed exaggeratedly. "I don't think I'm good enough for Julliard, truthfully."

"Well, apply next year. If only so you can come visit me at Yale." Aelin's face brightened with a mischievous smile.

"If you say so."

They settled into comfortable silence for a bit, and then Rowan started their review for the day. When it had been an hour and a half and Chaol hadn't stopped by yet, he had to ask. "Where's the boyfriend?"

"No longer my boyfriend. Looks like I have to buy my own coffee from now own." She sighed in that dramatic way of hers again. Rowan couldn't help the overwhelming relief that slammed through him. Now he could-

He could what? He could ask her out? Tell her that he knew Chaol had never bothered to properly learn her coffee order because he noticed the way she winced when she sipped the too bitter liquid? Tell her that he knew she was brilliant on the piano, though he'd only heard her play once? That she was beautiful and smart and funny and so, so brilliant, and they'd only have a year together before he left?

He couldn't do it. Or maybe you're afraid, that awful voice everyone had in their head mocked him. Rowan didn't want to admit to that either.

So all he said was, "Oh, I'm sorry." Aelin flashed a smile at him, and it twisted a knife through his gut because it wasn't her swaggering grin. It was gone sooner than it had come. They continued with their session until two hours came to an end and Aelin stood abruptly, leaving the library faster than she did before.

On May 3rd, Aelin turned 17, and Rowan remembered it. He carried her present with him all through the day. It was tucked into a small black box, her name written in gold marker in his quick scrawl. When he sat at their table at the library, he felt like the wait for her had been broken down into each separate millisecond. It was torture on his stomach, his heartbeat pulsing and fluttering in and out of it.

After what felt like decades, Aelin sat down across from him. "Hey Rowan," She smiled at him. In all the time they'd spent together, he had learned all her different smiles. There were the ones that curled at the left side of her mouth and made her shoulders pull back arrogantly. She was sure to start teasing him when her smile pulled slowly, eyes glinting mischievously. When she smiled like that, he couldn't help but grin himself.

But this smile, the one that was pure happiness, simple joy, it was his favorite. She looked at him from across the table and her eyes gleamed with it, sparkling, the shades of turquoise and gold even more vibrant. Aelin furrowed her brows and he realized he'd been staring.

"Happy birthday!" Rowan blurted out.

Aelin's brows rose and she laughed into that beautiful smile of hers and he was knocked breathless again. "Thank you, Rowan."

He reached over into his bag and pulled out the flat black box. "I got you- I don't know if- I figured-"

"Thank you, Rowan," She said again, smiling wider and coming to his side of the table and kneeling next to him so she was just a bit shorter. "Now let me see what's in her."

She traced her fingers over the box, her smile growing softer. "I love your handwriting, you know. I know you think it's messy, and it is, but it's the pretty kind of messy, you know?" She looked over at him and blushed a little. "I love your handwriting." She traced the five letters of her name written in his scrawl again.

And then Aelin opened the box, and she gasped a little. It was simple, he knew that, but most of Aelin's necklaces were, to his notice. It was something she'd be able to wear with most outfits. She pulled the gold chain out of the crushed velveteen it was laid on and looked closer at the turquoise gemstone pendant.

"I- The color, it reminded me of your eyes, so you know..." He trailed off.

She turned to look at him. "I love it, Rowan," and Aelin threw her arms around his neck, red lipstick blurring in the quickness. It was his raging pulse, it was a fiery inferno, it was his urge to kiss her. She was so near, so close to him, lavender and lemon verbena intoxicating him.

And why not? There was nothing to lose.

He pulled back from where his head was pressed to her neck, arms holding her tightly. Rowan wasn't sure whether he moved first or she did. But their mouths were upon each other, softer than he'd thought he would kiss her. But it was soft, it was sweet, it was everything he had wanted to do after sitting across from her all year long.

When Aelin pulled back from his mouth, she huffed a little laugh and rubbed his lips lightly with her thumb. “You’ve got lipstick on your lips now.” She smiled, pressing her forehead into his neck.

Holding her against his body, red lipstick smudged against his lips, standing in the school library, Rowan had never felt so calm. So warm. So happy. And he realized, with a desperate suddenness, he loved the girl in his arms.

“I love you.” He whispered against her hair. And it was peaceful.

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 19)

Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)

Dividers by @fireflygraphics

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist

It’s the night of Tony’s party and you are in your room getting ready. You exit the bathroom after a shower to see a gift box on your bed. It’s wrapped in a blue bow and you know it can only be from two certain men. The note reads “To the most beautiful woman in any galaxy, please wear this tonight. We love you.” Inside you find a beautiful dress. It’s blue and has a style reminiscent of the 40s. You do yourself up and put on the dress. A knock on the door has you grinning as you answer it. 

“Wow. You look beautiful.” Steve says, returning your grin. 

“Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Bucky charms.

“It’s a good start,” you kiss each of them. “I love the dress. Thank you.”

“It looks great on you, doll.” 

The party tonight was one of Tony’s penthouse parties at the tower. Only family, partners, and close friends were invited. After arriving, the three of you made rounds greeting everyone. You’re excited when you finally make it to Sam. 

“Hey Sam! Wanna introduce the beauty on your arm?” you grin widely. 

“Of course,” Sam puffs out his chest as he motions to her, “This is my girlfriend, Kaziah.” He gives her each of your names and you spend twenty minutes or so chatting with all of them. Kaziah is sweet and you enjoy meeting her immensely. You are distracted a few minutes later when Loki strolls in wearing an all black suit. 

“Well, don’t you look like a million bucks!” you hug his neck as he chuckles. 

“You like it?” Loki preens. 

“Very much. You look great. Are you still planning to go back to Asgard tomorrow?”

“Yes. And before you ask, yes, I’m going to tell her.”

“Yay. I look forward to your return and hearing how it went. Can I introduce you around a bit?” 

“Lead the way.” Loki offers his arm. 

You guide him to different groups introducing him, smoothing any ruffled feathers, and making him feel comfortable in the setting. Loki relaxed as the evening passed. You enjoyed yourself, spending most of your time with Steve and Bucky, dancing, eating, drinking, and having fun with your friends and people you know and trust. It was fun. 

A couple of hours in, you notice Kaziah sitting by herself on one of the couches. Sam is in a group nearby with Rhodey and a few others cutting up. You grab an extra glass of champagne and sit beside her, holding out the drink to her, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, there is always that little bit of awkwardness when you don’t know many people.” Kaziah flashes a nervous smile. 

“I understand,” you laugh, “I was basically dropped on the team with no warning, having never met any of them.”

“Wow. But it worked out? You’re dating Bucky and Steve?” She asks. 

“It worked out better than I ever hoped. And, yes, we are in a relationship together. We know it’s not conventional, but we’re very happy.”

“I saw you with Loki earlier. Are you with him also?” Kaziah asks carefully. 

“No. Loki is a good friend and we train together. He’s a really good guy once you get to know him.” You happen to catch his eye across the room and he smiles at you. That’s when you feel the ice pick to your head and immediately open your mind to him. 

“You’re needed in the rooftop garden, darling.” Loki’s voice drifts into your mind. 

“What? Why?” You asked confused. 

“I don’t know. I was just asked to relay the message quietly.” Loki’s chuckle echoes through your head and you grin.

“What was that? It looked like you were having a conversation.” Kaziah asks curiously.

“Oh, nothing,” you answer evasively, “Will you excuse me?”

“Uh, of course.” Kaziah looks confused. 

“It was nice talking to you.”

“You, too.”

You head to the elevator while looking for Steve and Bucky but, not finding them, you shrug and hit the button for the rooftop. Suspicion and curiosity curl in your stomach as the elevator goes up. When the doors open, you notice a trail of petals leading into the garden. You smile as you follow it.

--

Steve and Bucky had spent most of the day of Tony’s party shopping for you. They found the perfect dress to give you fairly quickly but finding the perfect engagement ring had proven nearly impossible. They didn’t know what they were looking for exactly but everything they were shown just wasn’t the one. It had to be perfect. As they visited the sixth jewelry store, they knew time was running out. The proprietor showed them several options but then, recognizing both men, he smiled and kindly suggested they check the antique store next door. He told them his brother was the owner and he kept a beautiful selection of estate jewelry. 

Steve and Bucky weren’t sure what he meant by estate jewelry but since they weren’t having any luck at traditional jewelry stores they decided to give it a try. The owner greeted them immediately and guided them to the jewelry case while offering to show them anything they’d like to see. 

“Buck.” Steve’s eyes go wide as a ring catches his attention. 

“That one? It’s not very traditional.” Bucky asks.

“Neither are we.” Steve chuckles. 

“You’re right about that. And the ring. It’s perfect,” he turns to the owner, “Can we see that one?”

“Of course. It’s one of a kind. I’ve never seen another like it. It came from a family in upstate New York. I thought it was a lovely piece.” He hands over the ring nestled in a small heart shaped box. 

“This is it.” Steve says.

“It’s perfect,” Bucky agrees. 

They paid for the ring and exit wearing grins. Tony had agreed to help them with the proposal and was having the rooftop garden turned into a paradise. Now they just had to get you to the roof and the rest would fall into place. 

--

The trail of petals leads you into the center of the rooftop garden where your men stand with smiles. Bucky and Steve are both handsome in their suits. A small table of desserts and champagne are off to one side. The garden is filled with lights and candles. There are blooming flowers everywhere and you have no idea what is happening. 

“What is all this?” you ask, all smiles. 

“We wanted tonight to be special.” Bucky says. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smile but tremble as nerves set in. What could this be about?

“Doll, we love you. You’re the love of our lives and this relationship is everything we ever wanted. So, we have something we want to ask you.” Steve says. He and Bucky take a knee in tandem and each take one of your hands.

“Will you marry us?” Bucky asks, looking up at you with a grin but you see the fear behind his eyes. You look at Steve and recognize the same expression on him. 

“M-marry? You want to, to ,to get married? To me?” you stammer. 

“Yes.” They say in perfect unison. 

They hold up a ring and you stare at it mouth agape. A star sapphire set in a halo of diamonds. The ring was obviously a vintage piece and it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry you’d ever seen. 

“You’re serious?” you breathe as tears flood your eyes.

“Yes.” Bucky says. 

“Absolutely. Please marry us. We love you so much.” Steve says. 

“Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you! Yes! I love you both. So much.” You exclaim as the men surge to their feet and swing you around. When your feet touch the ground again, Bucky takes the ring out of the box and places it on your finger. 

“It’s a star sapphire since both mine and Bucky’s symbol is a star.” Steve explains. 

“Blue because honesty always comes first in our relationship.” Bucky says. 

“Surrounded by diamonds because our love will always surround you.” Steve continues. 

“And antique because you’re marrying two old men.” Bucky chuckles. 

You laugh but stare at the ring that they chose with admiration, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Let’s toast to our engagement.” Bucky goes to open the bottle of champagne. The three of you share champagne, strawberries, and cake as they tell you about how they decided to ask you and their day of shopping to find the perfect ring. 

You stare at it saying, “I never thought I’d get married again. I just assumed in this relationship we’d just be together.”

“You are okay with getting married, right?” Steve asks. 

“Yes! I want to marry both of you. I guess it will be more of a commitment ceremony since we can’t legally get married,” you explain.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it and I think you and Steve should get married legally and we can have a commitment ceremony for the three of us. There would be a lot of protection for you in being Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky states. 

“I’m… I won’t be changing my name. I never did with Charlie.”

“You don’t have to. Bucky, you hadn’t said anything about this before. Are you sure?” Steve asks. 

“Yes. It just makes sense. If you’re okay with it, doll.” Bucky says. 

“I get it from a legal standpoint but no matter what the THREE of us will be married,” you smile. 

Steve nods, “While we’re on our honeymoon, Tony is going to renovate our rooms into an apartment. We just have to pick a date. We-”

“We can go over all the details later,” you interrupt Steve. “Right now, I’d like to go to our room and celebrate with less clothing on.”

“I love the way you think,” Bucky says as he helps you to stand and kisses you. 

Steve grabs the bottle of champagne and bowl of strawberries, “I’m sure we’ll work up an appetite.” He winks and kisses you. 

You can’t keep your hands off each other in the elevator and find yourself sandwiched between the two men with their lips wandering over every expanse of exposed skin. You stumble into the guest room the three of you are staying in and gasp. The room is full of flowers, a small table covered in candles and food, another bottle of champagne, three fluffy robes with your names embroidered on them and matching slippers, a wedding planning book, and a note of congratulations from Tony and Pepper. 

“This is so sweet! They are so thoughtful.” you exclaim. 

“They definitely know we plan to work up an appetite.” Bucky chuckles. 

“We should get to it. Unzip me?” you whisper. 

“My pleasure.” Bucky complies and gently guides the dress down for you to step out of it. You’re wearing a beautiful lingerie set complete with garter and heels and both men devour you with their eyes. You sit on the end of the bed, lean back on your arms and cross your legs while eyeing the two. 

“Naked. Now,” you say playfully. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky grins as they shuck their clothing quickly. When both stand before you gloriously naked you look them up and down, licking your lips. You go to them and put a hand on each of their chests before lowering yourself to your knees. You stroke both of their cocks and take turns swirling your tongue around each of their heads. 

“You’re both so good to me. I love you so much. I love fucking both of you.” You make comments each time you switch between them and they’re both looking at you with a feral expression as you praise and tease them. 

“Fuck, doll.” Bucky says as he grabs you and pulls you to your feet, “Get up here.” His mouth claims yours and Steve is behind you in an instant, removing your bra, cupping your breasts and kissing your shoulders. You feel his hard length pressed to your ass and Bucky’s pressed to your mound. You moan loudly as their hands and mouths wander over you, divesting you of your lingerie.. 

“I… I want to try something,” you moan. 

“Anything, sweetheart. What do you want?” Steve asks with his lips against your neck. 

“I want you both inside me. Both inside me at the same time.” You say breathlessly. 

“You mean, both of us inside your pussy, doll?” Bucky clarifies. 

“Please. Want to feel all of us together.” You whimper. 

“If it’s too much, you have to tell us, doll. Don’t let us hurt you.” Steve says as he picks you up and carries you to the bed. “Promise?”

“I promise.” you agree as he lays you in the middle of the bed. 

“Fuck, that’s hot. I want inside you so bad.” Bucky groans from behind you, both men are flush against your front and back. He pulls your leg up and runs his fingers through your slick folds. He dips two fingers inside to ensure that you’re ready. A third finger is added and you moan loudly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you. Please!” You beg. 

Bucky’s head finds your entrance and slowly presses in. You stare into Steve’s eyes as you grab Bucky and encourage him on. Bucky thrusts into you a few times languidly, working your pleasure and coating himself in your slick. “Come on, Stevie. Our girl’s ready for you.”

Steve slides his cock against you to coat himself before slowly pressing his head in. You gasp at the sensation. 

“Okay?” Steve groans. 

“Yes, it’s good. Don’t stop.” you moan and then cry out as Bucky gives a gentle thrust. 

“Fuck, baby, feeling both of you is so hot.” Steve groans. 

“Then don’t stop. Keep going, please.” You whisper. 

“Move, Stevie. We need it.” Bucky groans. 

Steve presses in by millimeters and keeps checking in. You feel so incredibly full and the pleasure is immense. When Steve stops again, you begin to roll your hips, loving the friction of feeling both of them in you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Bucky moans as he takes a gentle bite out of your shoulder. 

“I can feel both of you. Fuck, it’s so hot.” Steve says as he begins to move with you. 

Your moans mingle as you cling to each other and writhe in pleasure. 

“Oh, God. I’m…” the words fail you as your body shakes with the orgasm. The intensity nearly takes your breath and once it subsides you feel it immediately begin to build again. 

“You’re trembling and clenching so tight, doll. You’re so fucking perfect for us. So perfect. Fuck, can’t believe we found you. Love you so much.” Bucky groans as he begins to move a little more quickly. 

“Buck! Can feel you. Feels so good. You both feel so good. Want it to be like this forever.” Steve moans. 

You’re trembling uncontrollably. The words, the men, the intense pleasure are enveloping you, body, mind, and soul. You cry out as you fall over the precipice again. Your body shudders and your hips move of their own volition. 

“Oh, fuck. Fuck.” Bucky groans as he releases inside of you.

Steve’s hands cup your face and he kisses you intensely before his own orgasm overtakes him and he presses his forehead to yours. As he comes down from the high, he whispers to you, “Bucky’s always been right about you. You’re perfect for us.”

“You are. You’re perfect for us.” Bucky says, wrapping an arm around both of you.

You lift your hand and look at the ring that sparkles on it, “We’re perfect together.”

Part 20

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

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[rattyoakenbitch]

youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader

❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞

gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: corpse husband x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.

summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:

“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”

“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”

“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”

“HEY! Excuse me -”

“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”

“Sean - !”

With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 

You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 

Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 

He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).

You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).

When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 

Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.

Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.

All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.

You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 

It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.

You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.

You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 

“Boo!” 

You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.

“Oh, did I scare you?” 

The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 

“Corpse!! What the hell?”

His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 

Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.

“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.

Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 

“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”

“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.

“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 

“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.

You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.

“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.

“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 

“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.

“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”

“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”

Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.

All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.

“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”

Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.

“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”

Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.

You.. felt the same?

Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 

“Y/N, I -”

Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.

“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 

Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 

Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.

He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.

Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 

The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 

“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.

“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.

“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”

“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 

You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 

“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..

“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 

“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.

“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”

Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.

“Say that again?”

You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 

“Princess?”

You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”

“About you being my girl?” 

Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 

With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 

Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.

You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 

You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

[retrievablememories]

what happens at night | taeyong

title: what happens at night

characters: vampire!taeyong, reader, BP jisoo, side character ocs

genre: vampire!au, fantasy, angst

summary: There has been a vampire sighting in a nearby town. You and a few other amateur vampire hunters flock to the area for fun, but are soon in over your heads when you come face to face with a real vampire. 

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some violence, use of weapons, mentions of blood and blood drinking, cursing

a/n: i got the prompt for this fic from this writing prompt post

writing vampire fic just reveals that i am maybe a little too intrigued with finding different ways to describe blood, lmao

also, this picture...are you fuckin kidding me

"Y/N, look. You aren’t gonna believe this.”

Adrienne holds the digital ledger out in front of you, and you look at it with tired, uninterested eyes until your brain registers what you’re seeing. Your eyes light up as you recognize whose face is on the screen.

“Taeyong.”

You take the ledger from her as she offers it to you, holding it tight with both hands.

“The Vampire King?” Jisoo perks up and gets up from her seat to rush over to see the ledger, peering wildly over your shoulder. Likewise, Percy makes his way over to the rest of you at a slightly speedier gait than his usual unaffected amble.

“Can’t be,” he says, shaking his head in quiet disbelief even as he looks over your other shoulder.

“But it is.”

The ledger’s screen displays the seal of Hawthorn Academy and its vampire registry, which holds the name, age, suspected location, and family lineage of every registered vampire in the world, along with a plethora of other pertinent details. On Taeyong’s profile, there is the familiar portrait of him you’ve always seen—his hair styled perfectly and curling over his forehead, and his eyes dark, piercing, and shining vermillion.

Under the list of Status Updates, there is a new entry from yesterday—a sighting nearby in the city of Dresden. Within that entry, there is a blurry, zoomed-in photo of a man in a dark trench coat and black boots, walking away from the viewer and down a shadowy street lit up with lampposts, almost too vague to be worth deciphering to the average viewer; but that silhouette is unmistakable.

“When was the last time Taeyong was seen out in public? I can hardly believe it,” Jisoo says, her voice practically trembling with awe.

“If he’s letting himself be seen, he must have specific intentions...whatever those are,” Percy notes.

“Let’s go pay Dresden a visit,” Adrienne announces, darting off to her desk and starting to gather up her essentials—phone and silver staff among them.

“Go? Pay it a visit?” Percy echoes, his mouth rounding on the word go and his eyes widening.

“Of course! Why not? Isn’t this exciting? A sighting of the Vampire King so nearby, and so recently,” Jisoo replies, grinning with all her teeth. 

Percy narrows his eyes at her, uncertainty marring his features. “Yes, but what about dangerous?”

“Come on Percy, it’ll be fun,” you chime in. “Think of it as a field trip for baby vampire hunters. Dresden is huge, anyway, there’s like zero chance we’ll actually find him.”

“Just take it as more skills training,” Adrienne adds, grabbing her backpack and heading off to her quarters to get the rest of her things. “Except this time, we’re actually in the field instead of that same boring facility.”

Percy grumbles to himself, but he knows there’s nothing much left to argue about; when the three of you outvote him on a topic, he has no choice left.

--

By the time the four of you arrive at Dresden, it’s dusk. The perfect witching hour for the vampires to be out, with the last bleeding streaks of the sun fading out of the sky. The lack of sunlight unnerves Percy even more—you can tell by his disturbed countenance—but he says nothing. He quietly follows you out of the train once it stops.

On the outside, you all look like four regular sight-seeing young adults, taking a trip from the next city over and ready for a night on the town; but most of your weapons and gear are concealed within your clothes and the backpacks you wear.

“There’s a slight blood scent here,” you note, taking in a deep lungful of air once you notice it. Indeed, there is the lingering hint of sweetness and iron, and something more musky and earthy underneath it—like decaying organic matter. The smell every vampire hunter is trained to be able to recognize—the odor of a vampire who hasn’t taken their scent blockers.

“There is, though I’m just barely picking up on it,” Jisoo agrees, waving her hand across her nose and screwing her eyebrows up. “God, I’ll never get used to that.”

“Do you think he’s been here?” Adrienne asks, leading the pack as you all walk through the train station.

“I would think a high-ranking, old-ass vamp would know better than to leave their funk trailing everywhere,” Percy disagrees. “Maybe it’s a younger one.”

“Maybe we could get an actual kill tonight, then. Our first,” Adrienne suggests, and though her tone is nonchalant, her expression betrays her enthusiasm.

You chuckle. “Wishful thinking, but maybe that would make the seniors stop treating us like children for once.”

--

Your group ends up bouncing from the train station to a pub and then to a nearby park, where a festival is being held. There’s bright lanterns, food, dancing, singing, and little kids running around galore, which makes you think these citizens either don’t know about the recent vampire sighting in their area or don’t care.

You all spend an hour mingling around and checking out the festival’s fun-filled offerings, chatting in low tones about the recent vampire appearance and trying to put your skills to the test to scout out any other vampires that might be hiding in plain sight within this mass of people.

“Hey!” Adrienne’s shout rings across the area, and you whip your head around in shock as you watch her take off running behind some teenage boy, maybe 12 or 13 at most, who has managed to nip the digital ledger from her belt and take off with it.

“What the fuck?” Percy barks, and you all shoot each other a wild, surprised look before you and him follow behind her.

“Guys, really? Don’t leave me here!” Jisoo calls out from behind you. “You don’t need three people just to get the ledger back!”

You and Percy round the alley corner that Adrienne disappeared behind and spot her farther up ahead, still hot on the boy’s trail and cursing him profusely. He’s a lot faster than he looks. Just before you can get a good look at him, he’s turning down another road with her behind him.

“Maybe we can cut him off. I’ll go down one of the connecting streets,” Percy suggests.

“Wait, what? Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“That ledger is too important to lose to some street urchin, and the seniors will never let us leave campus again if we come back without it. You go that way, I’ll be down here.” He’s ducking into an adjacent alley before you can even respond.

“Shit…” you sigh and shake your head before running down the road he indicated.

You unstrap your silver staff from a hidden section of your pants and extend it, just to be safe.

This land is not overly familiar to you, with you only having been to Dresden a couple times before. You carefully navigate your way through the maze of interconnecting streets, listening for Percy’s and Adrienne’s footfalls, which have become distinctive to you by now, and the sounds of Adrienne’s yelling. There are few people on the streets, most of them at the festival or in their homes, which makes it easier to navigate and watch for the others as you catch glimpses of them rushing past neighboring alleys.

Percy bursts into the same alleyway Adrienne is running down, finally trapping the boy between them on either end of the narrow passageway. However, the boy remains undeterred from Percy charging toward him as he deftly jumps up onto a nearby closed dumpster and uses it to launch himself over the older man.

“Shit!” Percy makes a mad grab for the end of the boy’s shirt, but the boy is a few seconds faster and narrowly gives him the slip.

“Are you serious? You can’t catch a damn kid?!” Adrienne shouts; Percy only curses again and whips around to follow the boy.

You hear the commotion from a few roads over, and you make a beeline for the area.

Just before you make it there, Adrienne screams. The sound almost startles you into dropping your staff, and you tighten your grip around it. “Adrienne?! What’s happened?”

You reach the alleyway, your shoes skidding on the ground as you nearly overshoot it, but Adrienne is nowhere in sight. You look around confused and alarmed with your chest heaving, but there is no trace of her — when she was there only seconds ago. “Adrienne?” Repeating her name still doesn’t bring her out, and you see nothing as you walk farther into the narrow back street and search every shadow and corner. Something dark and distressing settles in your stomach, and when you catch a whiff of that blood-decay smell on the night breeze, your unease turns into an avalanche of fear.

“Percy,” you whisper, and you take off again. “Percy!”

Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, nearly blocking out all other sounds, and your legs and arms burn as you run. You are abruptly stopped in your tracks as there is another shorter sound, like someone suddenly being cut off in the middle of a scream.

You desperately want to call out for him, and the syllables of his name crawl up your throat though you struggle to contain them. The blood-decay smell still inundates your senses, and whatever vampire is skulking around this maze of streets with you is likely still present somewhere. You don’t want to call any attention to yourself with a shout, though it may already be too late. 

With a spiny chill driving itself down your back, you realize everything is suddenly silent. No insects, no night birds, no other people on the streets surrounding you.

Pushing the button on your staff ejects the silver blades from both ends, and you hold it for dear life as you stand in the middle of the dim alley, shivering despite your sweat and waiting for any hint that the monster is approaching you.

It happens so quickly that it’s almost outside of your perception.

The air around you grows significantly colder even with the existing chill from the early-winter season, and you shudder once more, your jaw clenching and molars chattering against each other. When you blink again, he is standing in front of you.

Taeyong.

Melting out of the shadows and becoming one with them all at the same time, a strange liminality similar to his existence—being alive and dead in the same time and space.

His mouth and chin are wet and red from blood, presumably that of your friends and teammates, which sends an intense ache through your stomach. The newness and excitement of the vampire sighting has drained out of you, replaced with stone cold dread. You’re not sure what any of you were thinking. Percy tried to warn you, but now he is likely dead for it.

Maybe it’s a foolish move. All your training has gone out the window in your panic and fear. You make a sloppy, sudden swipe at his front with the blade of your staff; and the next thing you know, it’s flying out of your hand and clattering feet away. Behind him, and out of reach.

It takes a second for you to realize he’s knocked it out of your hand without even touching it or you; his own hand is still raised with the movement of telekinetically shifting the object. “You came terribly unprepared. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more from you fledglings.”

Your sweaty palm slides against the other leg of your pants where a smaller silver dagger is concealed in a tearaway pocket, but that idea is useless. In the time it’d take to get any weapon out, he could kill you.

“The Academy has really been in decline the last few decades. This is the caliber of hunters they’re putting out now?” Taeyong sucks his teeth, and he takes a step closer to you. Your entire body is on high-alert, but you feel too stiff to move a muscle, and you vaguely wonder if this is somehow his doing, too. Only in the stillness of this moment do you realize that you cannot detect any of that blood scent coming directly from him, though the putridness of it still lingers in your nose. It’s coming from somewhere else, then. This confuses you more.

When he realizes you aren’t going to speak, he stops approaching you and takes a moment to really study your face, his big and curious eyes blinking slowly. The redness of his irises and the shiny, pale quality of his skin from the moonlight shining on it make him look just as surreal as he truly is.

“You’re a pretty thing. Maybe I could make you one of mine.”

“Never,” you blurt out, and it’s the first thing you can bring yourself to say to the Vampire King.

“Oh, so you can speak.” Taeyong reaches for your chin. His fingers brush the underside of it, the coolness of his skin freezing you, before you snatch away from his touch, stumbling backwards. A flash of irritation sparks on his face. 

His hand reaches for you again, this time clasping at the back of your neck, and it is impossible to move away quickly enough. “Don’t waste any more of your time fighting. This will all be over soon. Well—this life, anyway.”

His teeth in your neck are sharper than needles, making your nerves twinge with stabbing pain; and then it’s strangely pleasant, like having painkillers injected into your veins. You can’t feel anything anymore except warmth and endorphins and his fangs inside you as the alley around you smears into a bunch of incomprehensible shapes—bricks, streetlights, strewn trash, Taeyong.

--

When you wake up, you’re in an unfamiliar place. An unfamiliar bed. You startle out of unconsciousness sweating and frightened, but with barely enough strength to push yourself up on your elbows. Looking around doesn’t provide you with many more clues; this space is murky with darkness, and your vision is foggy. You think you can make out the rectangular shape of a large curtained window, but it’s unclear.

You’re still wearing your clothes from the trip, although your backpack is now gone. Your throat has never felt drier in your life, and the pounding in your head threatens to split it clean apart.

You feel sick and feverish, like your body is trying to fight against some virus it’s picked up, but you haven’t the slightest idea where you could’ve contracted anything—you didn’t even eat at the festival—until you remember—

A door opens with a bang somewhere in the distance, and it isn’t until the footsteps grow nearer and a blurry figure approaches the bed that you realize the door is the entrance of the room you're in.

“You’ll want to feed soon.” As soon as those words break the quiet, you’re struck by the pungent smell of blood. Unlike the relative lack of response it would elicit any other time, its aroma pokes at a sudden and peculiar craving inside of you, and you find yourself futilely scrabbling on the bed to reach the source. “Lucky you. I have just what you need.”

There is a cold hand tilting your face up, the press of equally cold glass against your bottom lip, then the tang of blood entering your mouth. It is the best thing you have ever tasted, and a slowly dying, still-human part of you is horrified.

You finish the blood quickly. It doesn’t really seem like enough, but it does make you feel a little less like you’re actively decomposing. Despite your hazy vision, there is no misreading the small smile on Taeyong’s face.

“Happy Birthday, little one.”

[daydream-disposal]

Wormhole

Steve is laying on his bed wearing his pyjamas, his eyes droopy and his mind hazy with tiredness but still, he insists on texting his friends. A normal tuesday, it appears.

Until suddenly, a big blue ring light starts to shine out of nowhere in the middle of his room. Steve sits on the bed, eyes wide. Suddenly a person gets out from inside the light. A boy about his height, his big honey eyes hiding behind his dark hair that was covering almost all of his freckled face. He was wearing black pants, a white button up and a coat. He looked drenched but still, he looked very handsome.

Is Steve too sleep deprived? Is he dreaming? Is he imagining this? He doesn't know.

"Oh thank god, it's you" the boy holds Steve's shoulders and kisses his cheek quickly, dropping a little device on the bed beside him.

"Um. Hello? W-who are you?" Steve freezes, trying to understand what just happened. He's not imagining it then, since the kiss felt very real. He would've blushed if the situation wasn't really scary.

"What? It's me. I guess I might look a little different, I've been traveling around for a while. Ugh my clothes are gross. I'm just gonna change real quick, okay?" the guy rambles walking to Steve's closet and opening the door. He searches for something, getting all his clothes out of the way. Steve frowns. What the fuck is this dude doing?

"Did you move my stuff again?"

"I literally don't know what you're talking about." Steve slowly gets up and walks towards the door.

"C'mon Steve, stop messing around, they were right here" he half laughs and keeps searching. A shiver goes down Steve's spine. He knows his name. Is he a spy? An alien? Is he here to harm him? Steve grabs his bat carefully and places it on his neck.

"I'd appreciate if you stopped messing with my stuff and left. I don't know who you are and why you're here! Just leave me alone!" he says with a rough voice.

Eli turns to face Steve, ready to laugh and ask 'what is this, a prank?' but his smile drops as soon as he sees Steve with the bat and a serious expression.

"Steve, calm down! It's me, your best friend, Eli Pepperjack. Do you seriously not recognize me?"

"Wrong! My best friend is Jim Lake and everybody knows that. I've never seen you before in my life!"

Steve and Jim being best friends??? Something is definitely Not Right. Eli looks around in disbelief. Now that he notices, Steve looks... younger. The room looks different too. It's the same style, but the colors are all wrong. He peeks outside the window and the street is slightly different too. Oh my god.

Did he just travelled to a parallel universe? One that Steve doesn't know him? He knew the wormhole could do that, but only on command! How did it malfunctioned so badly??

Steve adjusts his hands on the bat, getting Eli out of his thoughts.

"Wait! Wait! I can explain! I can prove that I know you!"

Steve considers, still not moving from the position he's in. The boy seems scared but somehow his eyes are shining, inviting. Steve sighs.

"Ok. Go on." he raises an eyebrow, curiously.

"Your favorite color is blue. You favorite food is pancakes. You can't have spicy food. You had a crush on Claire Nunes"

"Those are really basic and you could easily be lying. Or spying on me! And everybody had a crush on Claire!" Steve shouts, losing his patience.

"Okay, look." Eli reaches for his back pocket, taking out his wallet and handing Steve a picture of them hugging and smiling, doing the Creepslayerz hand gesture to the camera.

"You like nerdy movies like Gun Robot and Earth Invaders in secret because you don't want people to know. You don't know basic math but that's alright because you're a really great actor and you're very good at sports. Sometimes you let your insecurities get to you and that's why you act like you're superior to everyone else. But you're actually a really nice person. You care a lot about people, so much that you saved my life a thousand times before. You're funny and brave and I love you for that" Eli blurted out without even thinking.

"Wow, okay, that's scary. How is all of this possible?" He puts the bat down and stares at the picture, not believing what he's seeing.

"It's possible because I was traveling through that thing" Eli points to the wormhole device on the bed. Steve reaches it and throws it his way.

"Thanks. It's a wormhole, it's extraterrestrial technology. I've been living in another planet but I try to visit as much as I can. It malfunctioned this time. I'm guessing I ended up in a parallel universe" Eli says matter of factly, clicking the device on his hand. A blue hologram appears in front of them. Steve doesn't recognize the language on it.

"Hold up, are you telling me I'm dating an alien?"

"I literally just told you I'm from another universe and you decided to focus on that?"

"Well yeah" he shrugged.

Eli sighed, smiling.

"No, I'm human. I'm Earth's ambassador on the planet Arkiridion-5."

"Ok but are we dating...?" Steve blushes at him.

"Yes. We are."

"Oh sweet! Point for the Palchuk!" He punched the air. Eli laughs through his nose, shaking his head but still focused on the device.

"Can I ask you some questions?"

"Yeah, go on"

"How did it happen... How did we even... do it?" Steven didn't know how to ask this, but as if he was reading his mind, the brown haired boy answered quickly.

"Well, when we started getting close people just assumed. But our families are okay with it, if that's what you're asking"

"Cool. Alright." Steve knew he was bi for a long time now. He was just afraid of telling his family and friends. What if they got disappointed? What if they couldn't love him? What if he was left behind?

"How will I know if they're like this here too?" Steve asked in a quiet voice after a few seconds of silence and just the bleeping of the device.

"I'm pretty sure they love you in every universe. I know I do." Eli sinceraly stated, not even looking up. Steve had a hard time believing someone cared about him and loved him enough to say something so soft like that. He looked at the picture on his hands again. They were sharing a smile so genuine, their eyes meeting in such a sweet way, like they meant the whole world to each other.

"And how did we meet?" he leaned on the closet, crossing his arms. Eli just kept clicking away.

"At school. We didn't like each other at first, but we figured it out" he exhaled. "Took a while, but we did."

"Why? What happened?"

Eli thought about the years his Steve used to be mean at him and shove him into lockers. It was sad, but he knew there was good in him. Maybe this Steve could do it differently.

"Just... be nice."

"I am nice!" Eli stopped what he was doing, raising an eyebrow on Steve's direction. "Alright, I'll be nicer."

"Good. What year is it?"

"2018"

"Woah, okay, I'm so far off." he clicked a few more times, the big blue ring light popping up in the middle of the room again.

"Wait, you're leaving already?"

"Yeah. My Steve is waiting for me at home."

"But I still have so many questions!"

"Don't worry, it's gonna be alright. Nice to meet you. I hope I see you soon." And with that, he disappeared with the light, leaving Steve alone in his room. He looks down to his hands, still holding the picture strongly. He smiles.

"I hope so too."

Steve didn't remember his name. He tried to think back but at the time he was panicking at the thought of "CUTE BOY IN MY ROOM!" and focusing too hard on the fact that said boy was from another universe. So of course his ADHD brain would forget his name.

But this didn't keep Steve from looking. He was never this excited to go to school before. He started paying more attention to his surroundings, hoping he would spot the mysterious boy somewhere.

Instead, he spotted a fight. "Just be nice" he thought. The older boys being mean to the smaller ones does seem like a good moment to be nice. Also, it was just not fair.

"Hey, why don't you pick someone your size?" Steve approached the bully, tapping him on the shoulder with his eyebrows pinched.

"Ugh. Why do you always have to ruin the party, Palchuk? You had potential but you insist on being on the wrong side" he tries to push Steve, asking for a fight. Steve scoffs and holds the boy's wrist.

"Just let them go. You know you can't win against me." The bully grunts and shakes his wrist from Steve's hold. He nods to his friends and they leave, muttering amongst themselves.

Steve turns to help the other boys out of the ground, offering a hand. The first boy refuses, getting up fast and running away. And that's when finally, Steve sees him. He looks smaller than the boy in his room, his hair is shorter and he was wearing nerdy glasses. But it was definitely him. He would recognize that smile and those eyes anywhere.

"Thanks. Steve, right?" the boy said, holding his hand and getting up. Steve was at a loss of words. He nodded, smiling.

"That was very nice of you. I'm Eli, by the way." he shook his hand. He was real and he was right here, holding hands with him. Ok, this is happening!

"Nice to meet you. That was no problem really, if you ever have any trouble with them again just tell me" Steve blunted out nervously, scratching his neck. Eli smiled, picking up his books and leaving.

"Again, Steve?" the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm starting to think you're not even trying. Go to detention!"

Steve sighs, walking with his head down in shame. But this time, when he enters the classroom he sees someone that make his eyes light up.

"Eli! Hi!" Steve sits on the table behind him, excited.

"Oh, hey Steve"

"What are you in here for?" he asks confused.

"I was breaking in. And you?" Eli says as if it's a normal occurrence.

"Woah what???"

"I was trying to study at the lab during recess."

"I didn't know that wasn't allowed"

"Well... I kinda was using their equipment to try and communicate with aliens... Which isn't allowed..." Eli says a little embarrassed.

"Oh" Steve laughs, finding the story very endearing. "So you like space, huh?"

"I do. Imagine if I got to do it. It would've been so cool!" he exclaims, and Steve has to hold back the urge to tell him about the parallel universe.

"It really would. Don't lose hope though" he winks at his direction.

Eli smiles and keeps working on his assignment.

"Y'know, I didn't expect you to be here. You're very... um... nerdy?" Steve admits after some minutes of silence.

"Oh so we're doing stereotypes? Alright, jock. Why are you here? Got into a fight?"

"What? No. I'm a nice person! I just didn't do my homework. Again."

"Because you didn't want to or...?" Eli asked confused, tilting his head. Steve had a genius idea. He felt like those cartoons when a little lamp lights up.

"I'm having a lot of trouble, actually. Are you any good with math?"

"Of course. Why?"

"What do you say you help me with homework and I help you by staying on look out when you're in the lab?"

Eli considered, as he heard the bell ring. He gathers his books and hands Steve a piece of paper before leaving.

"Sure. Text me later so we can talk about it"

"Sounds good" Steve smiled. If this went anything like he wanted to, he better start cleaning some space in his closet.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Blood and Boos

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Haunted House OneShot

Lorcan gets roped into doing a Haunted House. Elide tries her best, but she isn't a fan of jump-scares. What could go wrong?

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2348 words

*******

"No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No way, I'm not doing that.” Lorcan wasn't going to budge. There was no way he was giving in to their stupid request.

“If I can do it, you can do it.” Rowan took a sip of his beer and leveled a look at him over the rim of the bottle.

Snorting, Lorcan shot back, “Just because your girlfriend’s got you wrapped around her finger, doesn't mean I'm going to do it.”

Rowan raised a brow at him, “And yours doesn't?”

It was Fenrys’ turn to snort. He grabbed his own beer and hopped up onto the counter. “Lorcan, Elide’s got you more whipped than Whitethorn over here.” He motioned to a smirking Rowan.

Rolling his eyes, Lorcan just repeated, “I’m not doing it.”

Sighing, Rowan asked, “Even if Elide asked you to? You’d still say no?”

“It doesn't matter what I would do—” Of course he would do it if she asked, albeit begrudgingly and full of complaints, but he’d do it. “Because she didn't ask me to. Aelin asked you to help out with this one.” he nodded at Fenrys.

The blond grinned at him. “Come on Lorcan, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?” He seriously doubted that. The last thing he wanted to do was put on a ridiculous costume and watch teenagers pretend they weren't scared just to impress their friends.

“It's a Haunted House, Lorcan,” Rowan tried again, “We’re not asking you to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters”

“Yeah,” Fenrys chimed in, jumping down from the counter, “You’ll get to scare people for three hours. And get paid. You already do that for free just walking down the street with that scowl.”

Lorcan’s response was the aforementioned scowl and a simple one-fingered salute.

“Ha. Ha. My answer is still no. You won't get me in an absurd costume and I won't be doing your stupid haunted house.”

Rowan was interrupted from responding by Lorcan’s phone ringing. Neither had noticed Fenrys subtly typing away on his own phone beneath the counter.

He recognized his girlfriend's ringtone and toned down the irritation that was seeping into this voice.

“El,” Rowan and Fenrys perked up at the sound of her name, trying to listen to his conversation. He waved them off and walked into his room. “Hey, what's up?”

He could hear her laughing at something said in the background and then her voice ran through his speaker, “Hey Lor! I was just talking with Aelin and she was telling me about this awesome—”

“Is this about the haunted house?” He cut her off, already groaning.

“How’d you know?” She sounded surprised...almost too surprised…

“I’ll let you guess what I was just talking about with Rowan and Fenrys. And before you ask—” He rushed on, knowing that once she did, there’d be no way he could say no to her, “I am not going to dress up and play monster all night just because you think it would be so fun.”

He heard his girlfriend groan exasperatedly at his insistence, “Oh, come on, Lor. It really would be so fun! You guys would be in the haunted house and Aelin and I could keep coming through all night to keep you company. And just think,” She lowered her voice, he guessed so she wouldn't be overheard, “there will be lots of dark corners that we could sneak off to.”

He let out a long sigh. Gods, this woman had some magic power over him.

“...Fine.”

“Oh yay!” He could hear the smile in her voice and it made the scowl he wore soften a little. “This is great! Go let the guys know, I’ll tell Aelin. And babe?”

“Yeah, El?”

“I know you’re not super excited, so as a reward for stepping out of your comfort zone, I promise to make the night exciting.” He could picture her winking at him through the phone.

Chuckling, he ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll hold you to that, babe.”

“Love you, Lor! Bye!”

He said a quick “Love you, too.” before she hung up.

With one more resigned sigh, he walked back out to see Rowan and Fenrys muttering to each other. They both turned to look at him expectantly.

“…what time should I be there?”

***

Elide wasn't exactly sure why she agreed to convince Lorcan to do the haunted house. She had been out with Aelin when Fenrys texted her telling her that she needed to get Lorcan to agree. Aelin caught the text over Elide's shoulder and insisted she call Lorcan.

“Ooh, that'll be great! Your grumpy boyfriend can keep mine company. And hey,” Aelin beamed at her, feeling satisfied at how things were coming together, “knowing that it's the guys who are dressed up and not some rando, you don't have to be so scared about going!”

That was why Elide couldn't figure out how she’d agreed to both getting Lorcan to do the Haunted house, and also to going through it herself.

Elide loved Halloween...the cute, fun, wholesome parts of Halloween like carving pumpkins and watching cheesy Halloween movies, and wandering through corn mazes. She didn't love the over-the-top scary, ‘you're going to be so terrified you’ll wet yourself’ parts of Halloween.

But she could put on her big-girl pants and get through one night of terror. And, maybe Aelin was right. Maybe knowing that the ax murderer jumping out at her was one of her friends or her boyfriend, would make it less scary.

That's what she tried to tell herself as she and Aelin waited in line for the haunted house two days later.

Lorcan had refused to tell what his costume was, but she knew Rowan was some kind of zombie, and Fenrys was going to be, yup, an insane ax murderer.

She and Aelin would go in, find the guys, maybe hang out and watch them scare people for a bit, and then they’d leave. Elide knew Aelin wanted to come through a second time later on, and she promised Lorcan she would find him and take advantage of one of the dark corners she mentioned before.

Two times through the haunted house, she could do this.

***

She couldn't do this.

Elide let out another piercing shriek as a hand jerked out of the cobwebs to grab onto her arm. She spun, ripping her arm out of their grasp, only to hear a dark laugh and another hand brush the back of her head.

Whipping back around she saw Aelin pull her hand back, grinning.

“Ae, I love you, but I’m going to kill you.” She was jumpy, ready for something else to pop out at her. “I am going to murder you for making me come here, and no one is going to help you or find your body because they’ll all think you’re just some prop for this gods-awful house.”

“Oh El, I’m sorry,” but Aelin was grinning through the fake blood splatter on her face making Elide roll her eyes and huff. “Let's go find our big, strong boyfriends, and they can make us feel better.”

It should have sounded comforting, but Aelin wiggled her eyebrows at the end, and Elide chuckled lightly.

“That doesn't sound like you, Ae—the last bit, sure—but not the first.”

Tossing her head back to laugh as she draped an arm over the shorter girl’s shoulder’s Aelin laughed.

“Please, they just like to feel useful.” She winked, but Elide could see the fondness on Alein’s face as she thought about Rowan. “Let’s keep going.”

All Elide did was groan.

***

Lorcan was tired of this. He’d been stuck wearing a mask with a supposedly scary face on it, but besides that, he was just wearing his normal all-black attire. Black jeans, black hoodie, black boots.

According to Fenrys, Lorcan was already scary enough.

At least he didn't have to wear the zombie get-up Rowan had on. Lorcan didn't want to know how long it had taken him to put all the green undead-looking make-up on—something he was sure Galathynius was responsible for.

Lorcan wasn't about to admit it, but he was having a little fun scaring people. He had positioned himself in a corner, just behind a turn in the hall. He could hear when people walked by him, but they couldn't see him until he wanted them to.

All he had to do was take one step, say “boo” in his deep, deadpan voice, and watch as the victims screamed, jumped, or ran away. One guy had let out such a high-pitched wail that Lorcan thought the glass on the window might break.

He’d been there for almost an hour; apparently, Elide and Aelin took longer to get there than planned because they hadn’t come through yet. He was getting a little grumpy, having been promised alone time with his girlfriend somewhere private when she made her way through.

Another group of teenagers walked by. Another “boo.” Another shriek. Another herd of footsteps running down the hall away from him, but unknowingly towards the enthusiastic ax murderer.

He settled back into his corner and waited some more.

He heard a pair—no, two pairs—of footsteps getting closer to him. Maybe he’d have some fun with these people; he wouldn't half-ass his attempt this time. As they turned the corner, Lorcan took a breath and leaped out in front of them.

Several things happened one after the other.

Lorcan roared “Boo!” Not the scariest thing to say, but his size, stance, and volume made up for it.

The pair, two women, screamed. One severely louder than the other.

In less than a moment, he recognized his beautiful, terrified girlfriend.

Elide, letting out her shriek, and unable to see Lorcan’s face beneath the mask, moved instinctually letting her body take over instead of thinking.

She drew her arm back and punched him in the face.

Lorcan’s head flew backward, not expecting the impact.

“Elide!” Aelin gaped at her friend, but Elide was still screaming, partly because of the heart attack she knew she was having and partly because her hand immediately began to hurt once she made impact with the masked man’s face.

Lorcan grunted, bringing his hand up to hold his definitely broken nose. He could feel the blood already dripping down behind the mask.

“Fuck!” He groaned, managing to pull the mask off his swelling face.

The moment the mask was off and his face was recognizable, both ladies’ eyes went wide.

“Lorcan?” Elide screeched, moving toward him, her face caught between disbelief and guilt. “Oh, my gods, Lorcan! I’m so sorry!” She tried to touch his face but he winced as she brushed his nose.

Devastation crossed her face as she took in the very real blood and bruising on her boyfriend’s face, all caused by her.

Alternatively, Aelin found it all hysterical. She was bent over, cackling, tears streaming down her face. She was laughing so hard that soon she wasn't making any sound, just clapping her hands together so she could continue to show her amusement.

“Oh, Lor—”

“I’b okay,” he muttered.

Elide sighed dejectedly, “When you say I’b instead of I’m it means you’re not okay. Gods, I can't believe I punched you.”

“You punched him!” Aelin got out between laughs. “This is one of my favorite moments, ever.”

“Oh hush Ae.” But her lips tugged up at the corner.

“I saw ‘at” Lorcan said, his words getting clogged by the swelling of his nose and the blood dripping down, and letting Elide fuss over him.

“Saw what?” She asked innocently, trying not to hurt him and she turned his face from side to side.

“ ‘at little sbile” That little smile.

She gave him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, careful not to put pressure on the broken part. “You’re the one who jumped out and scared me, you should be proud that my instinct when being attacked is to punch my attacker.”

He rolled his eyes. “But it's be,” But it's me. He gestured to himself.

“Yeah, but you had a mask on, and I was already on edge after someone,” she glared at Aelin who had finally calmed down, “made me walk through this entire monstrosity of a setup.”

Elide gave him another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth.

“It’s by nose ‘ats broken, not by lips.” He pointed out when she pulled away.

She laughed, and her smile almost made his broken face worth it—almost.

“Come on, let's get you to the hospital,” She cringed thinking about having to explain to the doctors how this happened, “and when they give you the all-clear, I’ll give you all the kisses you want.”

“You two go,” Aelin told them and tossed Elide the keys to her car, “call me later. I’m gonna go find Ro and Fen and tell them all about this.”

Elide rolled her eyes as Lorcan flipped Aelin off and Aelin waved cheerfully back before practically skipping down the hall.

“I’ll give it to you, ‘at was a damn good punch.” Lorcan grabbed her hand, pulling her into his side as his other hand kept a firm hold on his face.

She smiled up at him, but he could still see the guilt on her face. “Well, I did learn from the best. Now, please use your hulking body and bloody face to scare off any more characters as we leave.”

He laughed as best he could and pulled her tighter against him. “I t’ink ‘hey should be more scared of you.”

Luckily they didn't run into any more jump-scares on their way out.

Once they were in the car—Elide forcing Lorcan into the passenger seat after pushing it all the way back for him and climbing into the driver's seat herself—they left the grounds and started driving towards the hospital.

“You know,” Lorcan said, glancing over at his brilliant, violent girlfriend, “when you said you’b promise to make the night exciting, this is nob what I had in mind.”

Okay, so maybe her smile did make his bloody face worth it.

***

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[kuromantic]

Tales of Zombish: Haikyuu Light Novel Translation

*This is my translation of the Zombie Knight Zombish snippets from the light novel. It’s split into 5 parts, and inserted between each chapter of the light novel. Don’t copy this to another site. The translation is under the cut!

Zombie Knight Zombish

 1: Zombish is Born!!

Nightfall. A lone swordsman wakes up. A swordsman that does not know of true death, because of experiencing a false death. 

“...Wait, it’s still evening, you stupid crow!” 

The man yells at the small crow beside him, having just woken up by a thin bush. The man’s body was wrapped up in an old, tattered cloth—which must have been a cloak some time ago—which covered his entire body. 

“I could have gotten burned by the setting sun…” The man blocks out the sunlight with the tattered cloth, and the crow caws apologetically. 

“Well, it’s okay. I don’t even have a body that can be burned.” 

The man laughs, and the crow flaps its black wings, flying ahead up into the sky. The man follows it with his gaze, squinting at the brightness. He stands up. 

“Oh, well. Guess I’ll go.” 

The man starts to walk. His frame was thin and delicate, which could be seen even when it was covered with the tattered cloth. And on his back, was a sword. 

The sword, which is large enough to not be recognized as one at first glance, does not suit the lean man. 

“Man, I wonder if a car will pass by… Eh, I guess no sane person would have gasoline now.” 

There’s no road where the man looks ahead. 

In the dead world where smokey, dried up wastelands stretch out for seemingly forever, the man continues to walk alone today.

“Yeah, isn’t this good? Isn’t this good? It sounds like the story’s just begun, right?” 

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, stands up with an excited face and gets another drink from the self-service fountains. He returns to his table with a glass of cola in his hand. He continues working on his storyboard. 

The only equipment on the table is a notebook, a pencil and an eraser. On the open page, there are scribbles that nobody else could decipher. It’s the storyboard Udai made with all his effort. 

I wanna try and make a manga. I like it. With that, Udai had drawn a manga during his college years. And it had won an honourable mention in the rookie awards. He had gotten an editor and debuted as a mangaka. But the reality was, he wasn’t quite reaching serialization. 

But now, “Zombie Knight Zombish”, is being created in the restaurant. And there’s a confidence that hasn’t been there before. 

“‘Everything but death is nothing but a scratch’? He needs to get over himself… No, maybe ‘Mortal bodies, they make me jealous.’...” 

Udai mumbles dialogues to himself, changing his expressions to suit the main character’s. The other customers at the restaurant glance at him. 

But he can’t afford to care about those gazes.

Zombish needs to help the heroine attacked by the enemy, in an extremely cool and overdramatic manner. 

And the enemy has to be a fated opponent that Zombish has known before turning into a zombie. The heroine needs to be a key person, for Zombish to return from zombie to human. And of course, she needs to be cute, a little strong-willed, who tries to join in on the fighting sometimes. But also a girl who you just want to protect…

A flash. 

The girl’s eyes can only capture the white hand, emerging from the tattered cloth and gripping the sword on his back. 

She feels wind brush past her cheeks, and closes her eyes. She opens them again, and the bandits have already collapsed onto the dry ground. 

“Huh? What…?” 

As the girl struggles to comprehend what had happened, Zombish is already starting to walk away. 

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!” 

She grabs the knight. At that moment, the tattered cloth on him rips and falls to the ground. 

What appears is not the handsome knight she expected. Nor a fighter that’s big and well-muscled. It’s a skeleton. 

“...Wait, bone?! Why bone! Bone? Wait, do bones even talk?!” 

“Yeah, I’m bone! So sorry I’m bone, sue me!” 

The knight picks up the truly tattered piece of rag, and hides his body. It truly looks like a skeletal model. He turns his back to the girl. 

“Anyway, I’m bone. So I can’t go with you. Protect yourself, you’re on your own.” 

The “bone”, that had slain a crowd of bandits instantly, tries to walk away from one single girl, as if to escape from her. 

Staring at Zombish’s lanky, weak-looking back and the huge sword on it, the girl shouts over at him. 

“Hey, bone! Can you eat?” 

Zombish turns around, lifts the tattered cloth, and points around his stomach with a laugh. 

“You wanna see me eat? It’s hilarious.” 

“If you don’t eat… That means I don’t have to share my food or water with you, right?”

“Huh?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re bone or not, if you can defeat these guys. You’re pretty strong.” The girl points to the iron-clad, muscular bandit with a mohawk. “And I should sew that cloth I ripped back together…” 

Zombish laughs, his hard skull distorting a little. “I’m not strong. Those guys are just small fries. But I guess I’ll have you fix this cloth for me.” 

At those words, the girl runs up to him. 

In the dried-up world of death, two footsteps mark their paths. Up above in the sky, a crow flies around in circles. As if to watch over them. 

Zombish’s journey has just started!! 

“I wonder what my editor will say…” 

 The man, once the “Little Giant”, leaves the restaurant and returns home. And without changing his clothes, collapses into his futon for the first time in a while.

2. VS Editor A!! 

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right?” Akaashi Keiji opens his heavy mouth, holding his coffee in one hand. It makes Akaashi heavy-hearted to meddle with a work an author brought to him. 

Kanda, Chiyoda City, Tokyo. 

In the editorial department of Weekly Shonen Vie, there’s an extreme lack of people in the afternoon. 

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, freezes momentarily in the meeting space. And he attempts to brush it off with a laugh. 

“Yeah, I thought, ‘Is a skeleton okay?’ for a bit. But maybe a Japanese-style zombie would be new, and I thought I could pull it off. We all get cremated in Japan, too. Hahaha.” 

“I see.” 

Akaashi looks at the copy of “Zombie Knight Zombish” on the table, and Udai laughing in front of him. And he says one more time, with force behind his words. That this is the last time he’ll say this, and he won’t say the same thing again. 

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right.” 

The question mark had disappeared. 

It’s not a question, but a confirmation of fact. 

“...Yeah.” Udai replies weakly. He drops his shoulders, and bites the straw of his cola. 

 It’s tough. 

It had been his best work. He had a confidence in it, that he hadn’t before with his other works. But his concept had been fundamentally criticized. 

The editor continues talking to the crestfallen Udai. 

“And one more thing.” 

“...What is it?” 

Udai hunches his shoulders, looking up at Akaashi like a scolded child. Akaashi sips his coffee, adjusts his glasses and lets out a breath. He opens his mouth slowly. 

“We’ve established that a skeleton is not a zombie. But I think this skeleton’s design is a little lacking, in the first place. It’s no different to any old skeleton. For the main character, I want a quirk that will tell you it’s Zombish with just one look.” 

“Any old skeleton?” Udai says, and draws a normal-looking skeleton into his notebook. 

“Yes. For example, he could be wearing glasses, or he could have a large scar. I want a unique design. Even if you draw him simply, you would know it’s him. If I were to ask for more, I’d even say make his silhouette recognizable. That’s how strong his design should be.” 

Udai adds a scar to his skeleton, and mumbles, “I guess it can’t be a scar, if his silhouette has to be recognizable.” 

“The scar is just one example.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Udai slurps the cola at the bottom of the glass, which is pretty much melted ice. He laughs disappointedly. 

“I thought the skeleton was fine, since he was cremated. Like a Japanese-style zombie. Well, there’s no zombie-ness, I guess…” 

At those words, Akaashi’s glasses shine. 

“Then… How about you make Zombish look more Japanese? It could link with his sword, too.” 

“What?” 

“Well, this is just one what-if scenario.” 

“...No, I think it could work. I’ll think about it! Then maybe he can look different from any old zombie!” Udai grabs his pen, and draws a Japanese-style zombie in his notebook. “If it’s Japanese clothes and a sword, he’d just be a samurai… How do I give him the zombie knight feeling…”

Watching the pen move busily and create many versions of Zombish, Akaashi feels a weight lift from his heart. 

It makes him heavy-hearted to meddle with other people’s works. But sometimes, his words make the author take a step in a good direction. That must be why he can continue with this job. 

“So now, please brush up on the work. And, depending on the edited manuscript, I may bring it up during the serialization meeting.” 

Udai’s pen stops moving. “Wait, why?! You’ve been talking about my work so harshly and tearing into it this whole time!” 

“...I haven’t been tearing into it. It’s entertaining, so I just want to make the story even more entertaining.” 

Udai’s face crumples, as he looks up at Akaashi. “Akaashi-san, you weren’t just an unpleasant person, after all!” 

“I’m an unpleasant person…?” 

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean it that way! I meant it in an um, good way!” 

Akaashi doesn’t ask what exactly he means by that, and organizes the manuscript. “Zombish is very entertaining, compared to the works you have brought me so far. I think you have a chance.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Oh, and lastly…” 

“There’s… still more?” Udai tenses. 

 Akaashi chuckles, before talking. “I’ve been thinking for a while, but this bit on the edge of the page, saying ‘Zombish’s journey has only just begun!’. You don’t need to write that. It’s the editor’s job.” 

“...!!”

4. Get Serialized!! 

It’s just past noon. Noticing that the phone is ringing, Udai reaches out from under the futon. He checks, and realizes it’s Akaashi. He gets out of the futon in a hurry, and answers. 

“You were asleep.” Akaashi says, in the same straightforward tone. 

“...I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry too. I’m going to get into it. Your one-shot is well-received.” 

At those words, Udai’s hand begins to sweat. He had been told to make a one-shot for the extra issue, and had made “Zombie Knight Zombish” with everything he’d got. 

He had changed Zombish’s design into a young man with patchwork skin, after Akaashi’s critique. He likes the way the bandages show around his collar. It can’t have been a skeleton, he thinks. It’s hard to relate to a skeleton. 

The “recognizable by silhouette” task had been cleared with the axe on his head. The zombie knight element was incorporated, by making him detach his left arm to wield his sword. Maybe they’ll make a movable figure out of the character. 

Above all, it was a work he’d been confident in. If it had still been absolutely hopeless, Udai wouldn’t have been able to recover from it. 

“Thank god…” Udai feels the tension drain out of him, and Akaashi continues. 

“And now, I would like to brush up Zombish to prepare for serialization.” 

“Of course! With pleasure!” Udai answers with gusto, almost like an izakaya employee. 

“Firstly, your heroine.” 

“Yes!” 

I should probably fix up the heroine a bit more, Udai thinks. Make her cuter, better… But Akaashi doesn’t steer the conversation in that direction. 

“In the one-shot, Zombish saves her, and they decide to go on a journey together, and it ends there.” 

“Huh? Oh, yes.” 

“If the one-shot will be chapter one, are they going to be travelling together in chapter two and beyond?” 

It’s not anything fun, like about making the heroine have a good figure or about how revealing her clothes should be. 

And really, Udai hadn’t been thinking what would happen once it got serialized. Well, he supposes it would be like what Akaashi just said. 

“Wouldn’t the readers grow bored of that?” As if to read Udai’s mind, Akaashi says. 

“What?” 

“The main character and the heroine go on a journey together the whole time, an enemy appears, he saves her, he defeats the enemy, and then moves on. And they continue like that until the final boss.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Wouldn’t that bore people?” 

Wait, am I getting given out to? 

No, he’d only been thinking of the one-shot as a base, so he hadn’t set anything beyond that in stone. He had only thought that leaving the readers hoping for more would be enough. 

“...Um, if it’s possible, I’d like to talk about this in person.” Udai says, wiping the sweat off his palms with his t-shirt. 

“All right. When are you free?” 

And so, in the editorial department the day after, the brainstorming session in the meeting space had continued for more than two hours. 

“So then, instead of a heroine that just keeps getting saved…” 

“She’d be like a buddy that also gives witty comebacks.” 

Udai draws a bunch of expressions for the female character. Flustered, angry, glaring… He stops his pen, and looks at Akaashi. 

“Then maybe Zombish will have a goofy side, instead of just being cool?” 

“But please don’t make it into a gag manga. Looking at the survey results, there are a lot of people saying that the manga is interesting because Zombish is cool.” Akaashi answers, looking at the survey chart. 

“I see… Balancing it out is hard.” Udai draws out a bunch of Zombish’s expressions in his notebook, and laughs. “But it’s fun. It feels like I’m making a manga.” 

“It’s good to hear that.” Akaashi smiles for a moment, and continues. “And also, about the enemy. Instead of them being a group of bandits in the harsh world, making them an organization would add depth to the story.” 

“Oh, maybe they’re the reason Zombish turned into a zombie?”��

“Sounds good.” 

Udai’s mood lifts from Akaashi’s acknowledgement, and opens up a page earlier on in his notebook. 

“Look here! The final boss is a fated opponent from before Zombish turned into a zombie. And the heroine is a key person for Zombish to turn back into a human. So I thought right now, maybe the heroine is the daughter of the final boss.” 

In contrast to the excited Udai, Akaashi lets out a low groan of uncertainty. 

“...So what, exactly, is Zombish fighting for?” 

“You always ask questions that can make the whole thing fall apart, Akaashi-san.” 

“Well, isn’t that the most important part?” 

Expanding ideas simple-mindedly is fun. The more he expands, picking up the pieces and making the story coherent will be hell, though. But knowing that, talking about final bosses and rivals is genuinely fun. 

“Secret hideouts are great, aren’t they?” 

“If they’ve taken over this world, isn’t there no need to keep it a secret? Something that would display their power…” 

“A castle!”

7. Secret Technique: Bolster Up! 

Just after serialization, the response had been very good. It had been. Udai had been in a good mood, asking “This will definitely be turned into an anime, right?” 

But now, it had gotten to a point where they couldn’t let it get any lower on the survey rankings. 

“........” 

“Are you okay?” Akaashi’s senior sees him with his head in his hands, and speaks to him. 

“...Oh, yes.” 

“It’s about Zombish, right? You should bolster it up with something. Like, with a pretty girl or a handsome guy,” the senior says. “Well, I don’t know.” He returns to his seat, after saying his part. 

“Bolster it up…” 

Akaashi’s brows knit together. 

Would that be enough? Could such a hasty, superficial solution entertain the readers? Well, the current results point to the fact that they’re not entertained. But even so, shouldn’t they be charming the audience with the protagonist’s appeal, or how interesting the story is? 

“The protagonist’s appeal, huh…” 

But what are the features of a protagonist that will be loved? 

What kind of story makes the readers want to come back for more? 

“.....” 

It would be the anticipation the readers have for the main character. What will happen next week? What will he show us next? Expectations as such. There must have been a lack of absolute protagonist strength, if he thinks about it. 

But that was the result of trying to create a dark fantasy, painting a delicate picture of emotions. Precisely because it was an absurd world with a zombie knight appearing in it. Was that what they had done wrong? Was it impossible for his literature department-aspiring self to make an entertaining manga, after all…?

After pondering for a long time, Akaashi lifts his head with a start. 

“....!” 

Wait a minute. 

Am I making the same mistake again? 

Am I thinking I could control the author and the readers? 

“...No. Pour your spirit into each ball, pour your spirit into each ball…” 

Yes. Focus on the next point, the next ball. Focus on this week’s story, the obstacle the protagonist must overcome. 

His desk becomes messier each day, as if to reflect inside his heart. Akaashi closes his eyes, and focuses his mental state. 

“Don’t think about what’s easy, think about what’s fun. What’s fun…” 

The survey rankings going down, getting discontinued isn’t fun. Then what is he meant to do…?

“Give feedback… Connect it to the next step… The next…” 

The seniors look at Akaashi worriedly, in front of the printer. 

“Akaashi is muttering to himself again, is he okay? He won’t quit, will he?” 

“He always comes back to life afterwards, you can leave him alone.” 

“Yep.”

“I want an absolute, strong main character.” Akaashi says to Udai, during their meeting. 

“Absolute?” 

“Yes. Like a star that hits any ball with his utmost ability.” 

“Am I going to get discontinued?!” 

Udai stands up with a clatter, face growing pale. Akaashi shakes his head quietly. 

“...Please calm down. It’s not getting discontinued, yet.” 

“...Yet…” Udai shrinks, and sits back down. 

“It’s a tough situation, but let’s turn things around.” 

They’re burning their bridges behind them. 

On the walls around the meeting space, there are many posters of works that had been turned into anime and movies. And the cardboard boxes blocking the corridor are packed with samples of goods. 

They have to join the ranks of those popular works, at all cost…!

Akaashi brings his gaze back to Udai, and starts to summarize the things he had thought about for the past week. 

“The main character… Zombish is a ‘star’. The readers have expectations for the star. What will he do next? What awesome moves will he show us? What kind of crazy risks will he take?

“We want the main character to amaze us with unexpected, yet charming actions. Whether Zombish sinks or swims will depend on how he overcomes next week’s desperate situation.” 

Akaashi lifts the paper bag on the floor. “And there’s a favour I want to ask from you.” 

“What’s this? I was wondering about it for a while.” The paper bag handed to him is unexpectedly heavy. Udai glances inside. “A blu-ray?” 

“Yes. I picked out swashbuckler films of all types, that have useful scenes for composition and pose references. At this point, we should take in anything cool and flashy.” 

“Thank you!”

“Also, it will be hard for you to watch it all, so I wrote the times for scenes I want you to watch.” Akaashi gives him a note. 

“I’ll definitely watch it! I’ll use them as references!” 

“I’ll do anything I can as well. Let’s both try our best.” 

There’s no way Akaashi can control what story the author will bring to him, what the other works will be like, how the readers will react. 

So, he should think about what he can do, what he should do. 

Avoiding discontinuation— it’s hard, but it shouldn’t be impossible.

10. Our fight has only just begun! 

“Zombish is getting discontinued… You have seven chapters left…” 

After getting the phone call informing him of the discontinuation, Udai had gone outside. Staying in his room felt too painful. But why, and how he’d come to the editing department, he doesn’t remember. 

Akaashi had been taken aback, after Udai had come without contacting him. But one look at his face, and he knew he couldn’t leave him by himself. And so he had taken him to a nearby coffee shop to talk to him. It was just his luck that he hadn’t gone outside the company. 

“Please order anything you like.” 

Akaashi gives the menu to Udai sitting opposite to him, but Udai drops it onto the table, not having enough energy to hold it. 

Akaashi pulls the menu closer to himself, trying not to show his shock. “Is coffee all right, then?” 

“........” 

There’s no answer, but Akaashi asks for two cups of coffee from the waiter. He chooses his words carefully, and begins to speak. 

“We had unfortunate results this time, but…” Akaashi continues, to the dejected Udai. “And as a suggestion from me…”

“........”

“I would like to get a fresh start with a new work. We should solidify the concept more for your next work, and compete with a work only you can make.” 

“Next…?” Udai raises his head at last, only to slam it back into the table. “There’s nothing! There’s no such thing that only I can make!” He lifts his crumpled face, and yells. 

“That’s not true. There must be something…”

“It is too! There’s nothing!”

Akaashi can only bite his lip, while his assigned author descends into total panic. 

What should he do…

He can’t just say “Bye, then,” and leave him feeling downcast. He had wanted to part ways with him in a positive manner, connecting him to the next step. That might just be his own ego talking, though.

“...I’m sure there’s a good theme for you. Is there anything you liked as a child, or something you put your heart into?” 

“I’m just a jack-of-all-trades, average guy. I’ve just gotten by in regards to study, sports, art and music…” 

When Udai had been in good form, he had preened about it, saying “I can do pretty much anything!”, but now he’s totally dejected. Well, that can’t be helped. He’s getting discontinued, after all. 

The only thing Akaashi can do, is to tell him his completely honest thoughts. 

“I don’t think a serialized author is just a jack-of-all-trades, average person.” 

“I’m not a serialized author anymore, I’m a discontinued author…”

At that moment, the waiter arrives. He shows a slightly intrigued face at Udai’s words, but immediately puts on his professional face and turns on his heels. 

Akaashi takes the cup, and inhales the aroma of coffee to calm himself down. He thinks. Maybe he should make some small talk, and change the mood. 

What should he talk about? Not about his work, or about what lays ahead. Then, about Udai himself? He wonders what he had talked about with him recently. What club had he joined in college? Where was he from? 

And he remembers. 

“Udai-san, you told me before that you’re from Tohoku. Were there any unusual traditions there? That you can write a manga about.” 

“...Yeah, I’m from Miyagi. But I lived in a normal estate, it was all pretty normal.” 

Udai says with a hoarse voice, and absentmindedly puts sugar cubes into his coffee. Many, many sugar cubes. Akaashi thinks he’s adding a bit too much, but there’s an atmosphere around them that makes him unable to say that. 

“Well, maybe where I live is in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, to you. You’re from Tokyo, after all.” 

“That’s not…”

Akaashi thinks that Udai is getting a little too dejected with him, but he can’t be blamed. “Zombie Knight Zombish” is Udai’s first serialization, and his first discontinuation. 

Food, sleep… Udai had sacrificed such human necessities, and yet his work had not been well-received. Of course he would be dejected. 

And as a new employee, “Zombie Knight Zombish” was Akaashi’s first work that he had launched from nothing. Due to being emotionally invested in it, Akaashi had felt deeply disappointed about the decision made for Zombish. 

Which is exactly why he had wanted to end it on a positive note. Surely there’s something in common with them, that they can talk about…

Akaashi, feeling cornered, opens his mouth. And starts to talk about something unexpected, even to himself.

“...Actually, I have someone I know in Miyagi. It was in relation to the club I was in during high school.” 

“I see.” 

Udai stirs his coffee with lifeless eyes, not picking up the conversation at all. He doesn’t even drink the coffee that is surely too sweet. 

“........” 

Of course. Someone else’s high school years is the most irrelevant subject to Udai right now. But really, what should he do? Telling someone they’re being discontinued, and thinking of what happens afterwards, is a first for Akaashi. And it’s a big job. He isn’t sure what the correct thing to do is. 

Akaashi falls silent, and Udai opens his mouth. “...What club were you in, during high school?”  He asks, not sounding that interested. It feels more like he asked out of obligation, because there was a break in the conversation. 

Akaashi feels regret, after realizing he’s made Udai read the room for him. But at the same time, he feels relieved that some of Udai’s energy has come back. 

“Volleyball.” 

“I see. I did volleyball, too.” Udai says. “During my years, we went to the Spring High nationals, too.” 

At those words, Akaashi places the coffee he had lifted back onto the table. 

“Oh, me… too.” 

“Really?! That’s amazing, Akaashi-san!” 

“No, you too.” 

And with a light premonition, Akaashi asks. “...Which school did you attend in Miyagi?” 

“It’s not a powerhouse, so I don’t know if you’d know…” Udai laughs, before answering. “It’s called Karasuno.”

Please look forward to Udai-sensei’s next work, “Meteo Attack”! 

[wolf-and-bard]

So, I wrote a Lambert x Aiden thing because of a conversation I had with @littoraly-art, so here we go. It’s hurt/comfort, but very much on the angsty side.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: explicit language, (brief) mentions of self-harming behaviour

You can also read it on AO3 if you want to

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hunt didn’t go according to plan. Lambert underestimated the amount of ghouls that would crawl out of that shithole and fought them well into the night, dodging and striking, dodging and striking for hours on end. They chased him through the forest and branches whipped at him. More than once, did he narrowly escape their bites and when they were dealt with and he stumbled back to light a bomb in the nest, he wasn’t fast enough on the retreat. His ears still ring and white spots dance at the margins of his vision. Lambert only notices that he’s overdosed on Thunderbolt when he’s already back at the inn he booked for the night, two ales down, and his muscles are still taut, ready to strike, while his sense of self-preservation has plummeted. Fuck. His fingers shake as he gestures for another drink. Sweat gathers at his collar, at the small of his back. He wants to sleep and rest, but he won’t be able to, not with the residue adrenaline.

“Lambert?” someone says and Lambert hunches his shoulders. Maybe if he hides his face, he won’t be recognized. But Aiden’s already emerged from the crowd and, anyway, he would have smelled Lambert the moment he set foot into the building.

“It is you!” Aiden saunters over, all neat bun and scandalously tight gear, his brown hair looking almost black in the downcast light of the inn. His smile is brilliant as he takes the chair opposite Lambert. Takes Lambert’s hands and inspects them for wounds before bringing them to his lips. “Hey, there, pup,” he murmurs against Lambert’s knuckles. Lambert’s heart does skip a beat, but with that comes a flare of anger. Aiden doesn’t get to be lovey and cheerful when Lambert wants to crawl out of his own skin. He hums something indiscernible.

“What is it? Talk to me.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, really? Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” Aiden says mockingly, letting Lambert’s hands go. “What? Oh, yes, it is good to see me, isn’t it? How I am? I’m so glad you asked. I managed to haggle a big fat fee on a rock troll couple that were mating up in the mountains and causing avalanches and now I’m drowning in coin. Pretty crazy, right? If I made it okay? Aww, sweetie, there’s no need to worry. Haven’t got a scratch on me. You wanna hear more about it? No, of course it isn’t too much to ask, I will happily oblige.” 

"Just... leave me alone," Lambert cuts in, and lifts his tankard to veil his face. He's good at hiding his emotion, but in the face of whatever this is and with the day he's had... well, his boundaries are more than probed.

“What? So, you can give yourself a sorry hand-job and cry yourself to sleep? No, sir, that would be incredibly pathetic and a crime against humanity.” Aiden smiles and before Lambert can keep drinking, he’s snatched the tankard away and emptied it himself. Great. Now there isn’t even that to hide behind. Lambert likes Aiden, he really does. On most occasions, he’s so overjoyed to see him that he doesn’t recognize himself. Aiden makes him feel… too many things to think about right now. Today though, Lambert’d rather be alone.

“None of your business.”

"Fine, have it your way" Aiden says with a good-natured shrug and, humming, stands. He makes a beeline for the nearest table full of average-to-handsome soldiers with the Temerian blazon on their chests, and slams a hand down on the table. His hips are cocked out, his smile sly, exposing overly sharp canines. They all look up at him with varying degrees of surprise, realisation. “Any of you boys down to fuck a mutant?” Lambert's blood runs cold, he’s had enough of this. He hurls his empty tankard across the room, angling just so he doesn't hit anyone - though no guarantee on the rebound – and leaves.

His armour, clothes and swords are scattered across the small room he rented by the time he makes it into bed, wearing only thin cotton smallclothes. He sits not two minutes, contemplating whether to go asleep or order himself more alcohol to dull the edge of his frustration even further, when Aiden comes into the room, no knock, no courtesy.

“Aren’t you off sucking flaccid cock? Or are you already done the whole lot of them?” Lambert spits, and crosses his arms over his bare chest. Aiden’s eyes darken and he shuts the door behind himself, forceful enough that it rattles, then slips out of his own armour and boots without much ceremony. “Go get your own room, asshole.”

“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” Aiden replies in a measured manner. All his earlier aloofness is gone, replaced by a gravity Lambert has a hard time looking at. Aiden sorts both their stuff into neat piles, then takes Lambert’s swords to the corner chair. Lambert stares at his own knees, but he can hear every tiny movement of Aiden’s hands as he cleans Lambert’s swords, inspects them for chips, pulls out a whetstone to restore their edge. The amount of care this alone conveys almost brings tears to Lambert’s eyes. Aiden could be deep-throating handsome soldiers right now, but instead he’s here, doing for Lambert what he doesn’t have the energy left to do for himself.

When he’s done the swords, Aiden does the same to his own pair, then examines the two sets of armour plating for tears or gashes that need mending. He lines up both chests of potions and counts out what’s missing, takes notes for ingredients. It’s a normal routine, only that usually, each witcher does it for himself. Lambert feels a mixture of embarrassment and affection heat his cheeks, but he doesn’t look up, not yet. Only when Aiden finishes with a soft exhale and wanders over to the bed which dips under his weight, does Lambert uncross his arms. Dares to take a peek. Fuck. He shouldn’t have. Aiden’s pupils are wide in the starlight that falls through the single window, the moon painting him in blues and silvers. Some of his hair has escaped his bun and his lips part on a sigh that expose his teeth. He’s a fucking vision, too gorgeous to be sitting here.

For once, there is quiet, so rare with the two of them. If Lambert lets go of consciousness a little more, it almost feels like a dream. If it were, he would reach out, draw Aiden onto his lap, lose himself in the familiar glide of their bodies against one another. As it is, the silence hangs by a thread and Lambert cuts it, edges fraying into dust between them.

“What,” he barks and Aiden sighs again.

“The only cock I want to suck is yours, idiot. Flaccid or not.

“Is that so?”

“Yes? I thought I had made that abundantly clear.” Aiden has. There have probably been more blowjobs than nights they shared a bed, altogether. And maybe that’s the problem. Aiden might not seem it now, but one day Lambert’s cock will not be enough to make up for his mouth.

"Why were you so obnoxious then?" he asks.

"Because you need to learn not to push me away, Lamb. I'm here, I understand, I'm yours." Three quick sentences that puncture Lambert like barbed arrows. I'm here feels like sparks of an off-kilter Igni that eat at his fingertips. I understand goes right to his gut and makes him feel like he is out on the rocky sea, in a rickety boat all by himself, at the storm's mercy. I'm yours is the lightning that strikes then and short-circuits his nervous system into small spams. He takes a deep breath and the soft kiss Aiden places on the corner of his mouth when he leans over helps quell the panic. "I can't change how I am," he says. Prickly, loud-mouthed, mean.

"You really aren't... no, that's not gonna work, is it? C’mere." Aiden crawls over the bed and settles next to Lambert, draws him against him, his strong arms wrapped firmly around Lambert's bare chest. Lambert's head is throbbing lightly, heartrate kept accelerated from the alcohol, but he deflates a little. Notices the small vial with almost clear liquid Aiden is holding between his index and middle finger. “You didn’t drink it, did you?”

Lambert shrugs. So, maybe he forgot to take the White Honey, fucked-up as he was. So, maybe he didn’t want to take it, stay fucked-up a little longer. He has days like this, where the lingering toxicity of the potions stokes some dark flame deep inside of him, kindled by his hatred for what he is, what he has become. Lambert isn’t prone to self-harm, but this, well. This he is prone to and Aiden is seeing right through him. Fucking cat, fucking.... is this love yet?

“I didn’t.”

“So, do it now.” Aiden uncorks the bottle with one hand and his grip on Lambert tightens so that he would have to struggle to escape it. For a moment, Lambert thinks about refusing. He wants to wallow, dammit, he wants to pity himself and maybe have Aiden pity him too. “Don’t think about it, pup. You can bullshit your way around other people, but not around me,” Aiden continues and holds the vial to Lambert’s lips. Lambert snatches it away and empties it in two long drags. Immediately, his vision sharpens and his lungs clear. His muscles stop trembling and his heartrate settles into its normal, mutated rhythm. “Better?”

“Better,” Lambert agrees sulkily. He tosses the vial aside and sinks back against Aiden.

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?” Aiden says with a sharp edge to his voice, but he noses at Lambert’s ear, under it, breath hot over the skin of Lambert’s throat.

“You’re the one that’s stupid…” Stupid for caring for me. Stupid for still being here.

“Will you stop it already? I’m trying so hard to be patient and you keep pushing me away. Did you forget who I am? What we share?”

“I didn’t,” Lambert says. He is weak and tired. He lets Aiden tug at his chin and half-turn him for a kiss that lingers even after their lips part for breath.

“Then drop the farce. Fuck, I don’t know what to say to you,” Aiden whispers against his mouth, chasing each word with a kiss to Lambert’s lips, the corners of his mouth, his nose. “I love you, Lambert, I love you so fucking much, but I can’t keep prying you out of your shell. Don’t you trust me?”

I want to love you too, Lambert thinks.

With my life, Lambert thinks.

You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Lambert thinks.

But he isn’t ready for that yet and so he settles for the next best thing: “I’m sorry.” The rest of it he pours into their next kiss, one that feels frozen in time for how slow and indulgent it is, the world reduced to the drag of their lips and the scratch of Aiden’s canines, the stuttering of his breath. Lambert wriggles around until he straddles Aiden’s lap with his thighs and frames Aiden’s tanned face with his scarred, pale fingers. Even paler next to his lover. Aiden fucking glows and Lambert is less a man, more a phantom next to him.

“Fuck, puppy, you’re so beautiful, do you know that?” Aiden gasps when they part once more. His hands are splayed over Lambert’s upper back and they are both half-hard against one another, but Lambert doesn’t feel like sex. He feels like curling up and having a good cry. He feels like kissing Aiden again, and so he does.

“And here I am, trying so hard to hide it so you peasants don’t feel bad about yourselves,” Lambert says, on instinct more than anything else. He wants to slap himself, this is exactly what Aiden meant, isn’t it? But Aiden laughs, the fucker, a clear sound that sets loose something fluttery inside of Lambert. Shit. It is love. “I thought the scar would have done the job.”

“Joke’s on you, I adore the scar.” Aiden presses his lips to the bottom of it and drags them along, skipping Lambert’s eye in favour of nuzzling his forehead. It’s ridiculous. It tickles. Lambert laughs and hides his face in Aiden’s neck. Aiden sighs and his hands wander up to Lambert’s head, cradling it. “Promise me something, pup?”

Anything, Lambert thinks. He grunts.

“Allow yourself this. I don’t need you to fall onto your knees and profess your love in some grand gesture, but… don’t shut me out. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lambert falls asleep like that, tucked against Aiden’s chest and he wakes in the morning facing the sunrise with an arm slung around his bare torso and Aiden’s nose pressed against the nape of his neck. He allows it to last.

[vroomvroomkachowboi]

The Gift of Magi

smut, fluff, angst: fluff ig

pairing: draco malfoy x reader (fem)

word count: 1.8k (1897 specifically) 

summary: it’s valentine’s day soon, y/n decides to sell something to get draco a gift, since she’s poor, she sells a valuable item to buy him something,  and draco’s gift relates to the item she sold  (this is based off of that one christmas story “the gift of magi”, except its valentine’s day and draco is obviously not poor)

warning: i think curse words, and i barely proofread my one shots so, and math sort of   

a/n: i hope y’all know what story i’m talking about because then it would be embarrassing for me lmao. (if you’re confused just search up mickey’s once upon a christmas, you’ll probably recognize it) omg the amount of math i had to do for this one shot is ridiculous,  but i’m actually really proud of this, also he won’t be very draco-like 

Valentine’s Day would be a lot sooner than later. The day of love would be here in 2 days and Y/n still needed to buy a gift for Draco, her boyfriend. Unfortunately, she was just as poor as the Weasley family. She felt bad, Draco loved to spoil her even on regular days, since the Malfoy’s were filthy rich. She just wanted for their first Valentine’s day to be perfect, she almost couldn’t send him anything during winter break. He, however, sent her many gifts that she wasn’t expecting. She just knew Draco was going to spoil the shit out of her for Valentine’s Day.

Thankfully it was Saturday, and she could go into Hogsmeade, and fortunately for her, Draco had to stay at Hogswarts to study for an important test in potions class, which gave her some time to go and look for a gift. The first place she’d go is to Honeydukes, she’ll buy him his favorite candy first and see how much money she’ll have left over and find him a suitable and cheap present.

When she arrives at Hogsmeade, she runs into Honeydukes and begins collecting all his favorite candies, she paid for them and left, trying to find a store that sold a good enough gift for her boyfriend. From the corner of her eye, she saw it.

The perfect gift for Draco.

Her friend had told her about a new jewelry shop at was right by Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. She walks over the window to get a closer look. On display, at the window, she stared at the ring. A silver snake ring. It had a real Victorian style, the snake would loop around his finger 3 times, each scale was defined from the tip of the tail, to it’s end of it’s face, and the snake had emerald eyes. It was truly meant for Draco.

Her heart dropped when she looked at the price. 150 galleons?! How would she afford the ring, she only had 20 galleons left, and she had to save it for a while, where would she get 130 galleons?

She began to fidget with her necklace. A habit she did when she was nervous. It was a gorgeous minimal gold necklace with a moon on it. She found it on the street when she was younger when she visited the muggle world as a trip. Draco loved it as much as she did.

Coincidentally she saw a sign at the window saying “We buy jewelry as well!”, the idea popped into her head at that moment.

She walked in and saw the beautiful jewelry around her, she never got to go into stores like these since she barely had any money, she became so distracted in the beautiful earrings on display, that she didn’t notice a middle-aged woman standing right next to her, not until the lady cleared her throat for her attention.

“Hello, young lady. How may I help you today? Looking for something in particular?” The lady spoke in her strong London accent. Y/n blushed in embarrassment. “Yes. I’m getting a present for my boyfriend. I saw the sign, and I want to sell this,” She said, unclasping her necklace, and handing it over to the lady. The lady put her glasses on, which made her eyes look twice as large, as she inspected Y/n’s necklace. With a wave of her wand, the lady tested for real gold in her necklace. The woman looked at her necklace for a good minute before looking back up at Y/n.

“It is real gold. I will give you 140 galleons for this.” The lady said. Y/n eyes widen. That was a lot of money! She didn’t even know that she had something so expensive hanging around her neck for so long. For a moment, Y/n thought about saying no, but she thought about how perfect the ring would be for Draco and said yes. The lady handed her 140, giving her in total, 160 galleons.

“Is that all I can do for you miss?” The lady asked. “Uh, I saw that snake ring in the window. I’d like to buy it please.” Y/n said to her. The lady opened up a cabinet on her side of the table. “Size?” She asks. Y/n tells her Draco’s ring size and pays her the 150 galleons. Leaving her with 10 galleons left over, she leaves Hogsmeade and goes back to Hogwarts to prepare Draco’s gifts.

Valentine’s Day finally arrived. Draco had his owl send Y/n a letter, telling her to meet him at Astronomy Tower after the end of classes. She waited all day to see her boyfriend, unfortunately, they didn’t have any classes together, but he did say hello in the morning, and they both pecked before telling each other “Happy Valentine’s Day”.

But finally, the end of the day came, and Draco and Y/n planned on eating their favorite foods and exchange gifts at the Astronomy Tower. She ran out her final class, and into her dorm. She wanted to get all dolled up for the date, she did her makeup and put on a cute and date-worthy outfit, since it was a date and Draco was always dressed up in one of his black suits. Finally, she put on an outfit she felt and looked good in and she knew Draco would also enjoy it too.

She went up the spiral staircase that led up to the tower, Draco was there, leaning on the railing, wearing his all black suits. She let her presence be known as she ran up the stairs, Draco saw his girlfriend’s head pop up and smiled.

Before they said anything, Y/n ran up to Draco, and threw her arms around his neck, embracing him in a bear hug, he returned it by wrapping his arms around her waist. One of his hands made it’s way up to pet her hair, “Hey love, happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispers. She let go of his a little to face him but connected her lips with his, which he immediately kissed her back, holding her face with one of his cold, large hands.

“Come sit, darling. I brought you’re favorite, y/f!” He says and lets go of her. He sits on the large blanket he brought, and she sat on the opposite end, with their foods sitting between them. They talked and laughed for a while, until he brought up the topic of gifts. “Can I go get my present for you, my love?” She nods. He gets up and grabs something from a dark corner. He pulled out a huge teddy bear, a box of all her favorite candies, and a bouquet of all her favorite flowers.

She knew it. Draco did go all out for her, she can’t say she surprised. “Awe thank you, Draco! Wow, you didn’t have to get me so much.” She says. “But I wanted to darling. I love to spoil you, the look on your face is all worth it. Plus I don’t mind, I have plenty of money.” He says back. She gets up and grabs Draco’s hands, kissing both of them. “Thank you, I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.”

She saw Draco’s heart melt right there, she kissed him before he said something cheesy. As always, Draco puts his skinny pale hand to her face when they were kissing, something she always loved. “I love you.” He says as he pulls back. “I love you too, Dray.” She says, smiling at him.

He looks down at her outfit, “I forgot to mention, that I liked your outfit love. You walked in, and I thought I saw an angel.” She laughed at his words. “Thanks, baby. But enough with the cheesy compliments.” They both laughed at her words. “I didn’t get you as much as you got me, I only got you 2 things.” She pulls out her purse, pulling out all the sweets she bought at the shop. His eyes lighten up. “Awe love, you got all my favorites in here!” He thanks her and puts the baggie of candy down on the blanket with the food.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, wait. I thought you said 2 gifts?” He questions. Pulling out the box containing the ring, she hands it to him. “I really hope you like it. I almost couldn’t get my hands on it. I saw it at Hogsmeade when you were studying for the potions test. I saw it at the window, and I thought, ‘that was made for Draco.’” She says, suddenly feeling nervous about Draco if liked the gift she got him.

Draco smiled as he pulls the ribbon, and opened the box. He gasped and looked at her, and back the ring. He grabs the ring and slipping onto his left ring finger. “Oh Merlin, Y/n. I love it! But it looks expensive, how much was it?” He questions, suddenly curious since he knew she was just as poor as Weaslebee.

“I sold my necklace for it. I didn’t even know my necklace cost 140 galleons! I wanted to make our first Valentine’s Day perfect...” As she rambled on about the necklace and ring, Draco’s smile dropped, and Y/n noticed it. “What’s wrong, Dray? I know you liked the necklace but I did it for you.” Draco didn’t say anything, only to pull out a white rectangular box from the inner pocket of his jacket.

He hands it to her, and she opened it skeptically. Now she knew why he was so upset. To match her necklace, Draco brought her gold star dangling earrings and gold charm bracelet with the planets. Y/n didn’t know whether to be happy or upset, she loved her gift, but now she felt dumb for using her necklace to buy his ring. “Shit, Draco. I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry.” She says, she couldn’t even look him in the eyes, just stared at the floor.

“Y/n, I understand you don’t have that much money, you don’t need to buy me expensive gifts for you to show your love to me. I already know you do, I would’ve been content with the sweets. I love the ring though, I was just really surprised.” He says and uses his hand to get her to look at him. Her eyes were watery, she was at the verge of tears. “I just wanted to make our Valentine’s day perfect. You spoil me so much, I just wanted to do it in return.”

He whispers a “It’s okay darling, come here.” And pulls her in for a hug. She returns it back, just wanting to feel his arms around her. “I was gonna gift you this,” She pulls back to pull out her wand and whispers, “Accio photograph.” In just a second or two, a framed photo landed in her hand. Draco grabbed it and look at it.

It was a photo of them two the first month they started dating, they made silly faces and laughed in the photo, Draco smiled at the memory. “Awe, darling, I love it!” He says, throwing his arms around her. She does the same and apologizes again. “Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll just buy it back, for you.” He whispers and pulls his head back a little to kiss Y/n. “I love you, happy Valentine’s Day darling.”