#brown and black charcoal

[flyingcakeee]

Reference:

Art:

Am I proud with it? Not really but I tried my best

[mabelsguidetolife]

shea moisture bars aren’t really african black soap…… 🤨🤨🤨

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[hr43s]

Goverment Hooker

dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )

Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.

w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )

a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3

Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!

“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.

Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”

You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.

Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.

“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.

You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.

“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.

“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.

He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.

“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon

“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”

You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.

You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.

“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.

“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”

You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.

But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?

Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.

After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.

“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.

“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.

“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.

“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”

You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.

You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.

“How many secrets can you keep ?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you

somehow”

This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.

“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”

“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.

“So like… you just want sex?”

He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’” 

“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.

“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.

“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.

“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.

“You didn’t say no though” you smile.

“Doesn’t mean I agree.”

“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.

“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”

“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.

“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say

“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.

“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.

It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.

The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.

“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”

two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.

“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”

Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.

“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.

“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.

You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?

Tease him.

You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.

He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.

“Fuck” he spits.

He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.

Oh.My.God.

Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.

He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.

“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.

His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.

“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.

“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.

He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.

Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock

“We can keep it secret.” You smirk

“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”

You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”

After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.

Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.

“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.

A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.

“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.

Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.

“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.

 You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.

“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.

You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.

His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.

“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…

He stops. Fuck

Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?

The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.

The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.

“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips

“What…My panties?” you frown.

“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.

You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.

Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.

“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.

You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.

 “Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.

You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.

The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.

Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?

You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????

You save his number into your contacts.

Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case

You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.

Your phone buzzes again.

Joel:  what you writing ?

You:  Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?

Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy

You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+

After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.

“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.

Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.

“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.

He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.

“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.

“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”

“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”

 And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.

You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.

He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.

He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.

“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”

His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.

He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.

The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.

“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.

Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.

“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.

A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.

He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.

“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.

His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.

“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.

“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.

His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.

Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.

He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.

“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.

He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.

“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.

“Uh huh” he nods.

He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.

He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.

He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.

“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.

“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.

After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.

“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.

“Fuck Joel, I love you”

You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.

After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.

You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.

“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“

Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.

“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”

<3 Hr43s

[dollfacefantasy]

little drabble while i go back and forth between longer fics <3

jason todd x reader

Brown leather comes up over charcoal kevlar when Jason pulls his jacket into place. He shrugs it on before bending over and adjusting the kick pads fastened to his boots. You watch from your seat on the edge of the bed. You watch your lover conceal himself piece by piece. The tight fabric molds over his scarred body like a second skin.

You chew the inside of your cheek as a way of dealing with your frayed nerves. This feeling was becoming a constant in your life. Every night he went out, every morning he came back bloody and bruised. It was getting to the point where being calm brought on anxiety because it didn't feel right.

Swallowing hard, your eyes stay locked onto him as he goes through his routine. When he turns around, his gaze lands on you. In an instant, he knows something's wrong. He'd only been back for a little while but dying hadn't stripped him of his talent for reading your emotions.

"What's the matter, doll?" he asks.

You shake your head and shrug, trying to communicate that it was nothing without saying it was nothing. Because it was something and your voice would betray that with one syllable.

He seems to understand regardless and approaches you. His hand finds its place under your chin and guides your face upwards to look at him.

"C'mon, you know you can tell me anything," he says softly.

"I just… I don't want you to go," you say, the words coming out close to a whisper, "I hate that you still go out there every night. I just got you back. I don't wanna lose you again."

His expression grows more tender. He sits on the bed next to you and pulls you into his lap.

"Oh baby…" he coos.

You're engulfed by his frame. It seemed even bigger since he came back. Your head sinks to its preferred spot on his shoulder against his neck while his palm sweeps up and down your back. These little techniques to soothe you had become apart of a routine performed as often as him getting ready. It never led to him actually staying home though. The lust for revenge that coursed through his veins was practically coded into his dna. He'd still head out as soon as your emotions had settled, but he never passed up a chance to take care of you.

"You're not gonna lose me again, sweetheart. No way," he whispers and kisses your temple. His large body sways back and forth a bit with you in his lap. "I would never let that happen. No one's taking me away from you. I'll be out for a little while, but you know I'll come back in the morning."

You nod reluctantly and run an exhausted hand over your face.

"That's right," he murmurs before landing another kiss, "I'll be back before you wake. You'll fall asleep and then when you open your eyes I'll be there waiting for you."

You nod again and slide your arms around him to give one last lingering hug. He returns it, his grip much tighter than yours. A final kiss later, and he's up. You're placed on the mattress before he crosses the apartment and grabs the remaining piece of his persona. The sleek red of his helmet replaces the shaggy black hair you love so much. The vacant white of the mask covers the pools of turquoise in his eyes.

"Love you, baby," he says in parting before heading out the window into the night.

[kooktrash]

season of the witch | jeon jungkook

summary: he’s not a bad boy, he just gets himself in bad situations at times that lead him to bizarre happenings. for instance, he had no intentions of visiting an occult shop in the middle of the night in search for a phone… but here he is in the middle of October feeling himself fall for the self-titled witch who owned it. suddenly he’s gone from your casual heart breaker, to your sweet boy next door.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.˚ genre/au: heartbreaker!jk x witch!y/n [she/her], whimsigoth, modern witch, halloween .⊹✶ ✶ ✶☾✴

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆. 16.9k words˚.⊹✶✴

warnings: smut. fluff. very slight angst if you squint. honestly pretty cute. oc gives off whimsigoth vibes but honestly a big softie. mentions of spells and hexes. jk is a skeptic. oc has a black cat named. jk becomes a bit spiritual. honestly just a cute modern witch fic inspired by your 90s witch. no protection bc they’re idiots and didn’t plan. oc is scared to get in relationships. soft sex. oral sex [f receiving] jk is a service dom highkey. actual magic moments but they’re brushed over

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

mentions of the occult [loosely referenced] it’s just a little Halloween thing, fiction and not at all educational or informative

“Admit that we’re lost.”

The street was as dark as night and empty. It felt like they were the only two signs of life around and yet he refused to admit he’s lost. There’s lit jack-o-lanterns on people’s yards so he knows he’s still close to civilization and that’s enough to keep him going—and he swears he’s not being dramatic.

“We’re not lost,” he said, not bothering to look back at his friend who surely rolled his eyes with annoyance, following after him nonetheless.

“Jungkook, it’s late, I’m tired, just admit we’ve been walking in circles,” his friend said, words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook just smiled, pointing ahead at the first true source of light they’ve seen for a while, “Let’s go there.”

It was almost midnight and most businesses around here were already closed and yet there was a small shop with a red lighting store front and plants hanging from the ceiling. There was a sign on the door that said, ‘OPEN’, with its business hours printed beneath and the shop’s name painted on the window. He didn’t hesitate to swing the door open, hearing the bell above the door ring as they entered the strange shop.

There was so much to look at from books to multi colored rocks separated into groups with labels on them; Tiger’s Eye, Black Onyx, Topaz, Amethyst, the list went on. Hanging above were various green plants and small jars lining the shelves on the walls of rose petals, lavender, mandrake, and plants he’s never heard of before.

“What is this place?” Hoseok asked with a small scoff in disbelief as he held up a charcoal pentagram and a bundle of sage. There were skeleton paper weights and bottles of various oils that gave the shop an herbal smell he couldn’t tell if he liked or not.

Jungkook didn’t have much to say, only shrugged his shoulders in response as he let his attention be drawn toward a hanging suncatcher that caught the red light used to warm the plants in the cold. His hand reached out to touch, watching it dangle and effortlessly swing away from him. There was no one behind the wooden counter filled with handmade jewelry made of copper and nickel twisted in various designs of trees, moons, suns and vines circling around crystals. There was an open book at the counter and he curiously walked toward it, wondering if it was a product list or maybe even the name of the person working but he could barely make out the words or even the dark sketches.

Just as he came to admit there was nobody here, a soft mewl caught his attention.

Yellow eyes stared into his brown ones as he looked up at the wall of ceramic figures behind the counter, and a black cat sat perfectly still next to a small sc of a dragon. He couldn’t look away from it, even when a soft sound of footsteps were heard from behind a tall, woven tapestry with embroidered stars that concealed a wooden spiral staircase.

“Coal, where’d you run off to?” Your voice was light and whimsical yet when you appeared behind the counter, you were dressed in black, a lot of it. A long black skirt with a thin black top that had green vines laced throughout it. Over it you had on a black shawl slipped down your shoulders.

Jungkook and Hoseok shared a strange look as they stood unnoticed while you picked up your cat to scold him for leaving while you talked. Jungkook tried to grab your attention by clearing his throat and once your eyes were on his, he smiled, “Um… hi, we saw that your shop was open and we were won—“

“Coal, I told you to flip the sign,” you whispered to the black cat as you let him jump out of your arms with an annoyed meow when you whispered, “Bad kitty.”

“Uh…” Jungkook couldn’t hide his look of confusion at the way you acted, “We’re uh, we’re lost and we were wondering if you had a phone we could use to call a tow truck.”

“Oh? Have you been in an accident?” You asked curiously, tucking some hair behind your ear creating a small jingle with all the jewelry you wore.

“Funny story actually,” Hoseok said, making you look him over with a raised brow—unable to ignore the bloody hockey jersey he wore, “We were at a party and uh, we got robbed. It was a whole shit show, honestly, we’ve been walking for over an hour and our car broke down so we’re going through it and we really just need a phone.”

“Coal, can you get my phone?” You turned to the cat that had made itself comfortable laying in a basket of dried moss. The cat didn’t make a move to leave, instead he turned his head away making you roll your eyes and add, “Please?”

Jungkook watched the cat run off behind the curtain with interest before looking at you, your eyes already on his, “So what kind of place is this?”

“It’s your local apothecary! Herbs, oils, incense—your occasional occult stuff, we specialize in the craft,” you said with a bubbly voice, “All very interesting stuff.”

“I’ll say,” Hoseok lifted a finger to tap on the mason jar filled with green liquid.

“What are you supposed to be?” You asked rather suddenly, turning your attention to Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook asked, looking down at himself, “I’m Dumbledore.”

He thought the long white beard, oversized robe and elder wand made that abundantly clear. You looked him up and down, “Hm.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but release a chuckle at the way you very clearly judged his friend’s choice of costume, “Yeah, I told him he would pull no bitches dressed like th—“

“Hobi,” Jungkook cut him off, motioning toward you with his head at the way your eye seemed to twitch with what he said. He tried to think of something to say but you were no longer interested when your cat came with the top of a phone case in his mouth. He set it down on the counter, letting his tail curl around your arm before leaving with a purr.

When you unlocked your phone, Jungkook thanked you and quickly tried to call a tow truck only to be told there were none open now. Hoseok couldn’t hide the fact that he was tired and found himself lying comfortably in a dark green daybed surrounded by books, leaving his friend to deal with all the hard parts. You didn’t say or rush anything when he took your phone and instead chose to watch him pace back and forth dialing every number he knew.

“This place is cozy,” Hoseok admitted, “I could nap here.”

“Coal, does it all the time,” you said with a soft smile, both tuning out Jungkook who was getting more annoyed by the second.

“Hyung, please pick us up,” Jungkook said in the background, tired of the itchy long beard so he snatched it off.

“I might get a promotion this week, what’s something I can use to wish me luck?” Hoseok asked, looking around the shop.

“I can help you make a spell jar, grab a basket,” you said cheerily as the hockey player got up to do as told. Jungkook tapped on the glass counter, starting a staring contest with the black cat while you and Hoseok began to collect herbs.

“I’ll send you my location,” Jungkook told the person on the phone, “15 minutes? We can wait here.”

“What does cinnamon do?” Hoseok asked, drawing Jungkook’s attention toward him.

“Alright, thanks Joon.” Jungkook hung up the phone, “Namjoon is coming for us. What are you guys doing?”

“Have you ever done a palm reading?” You asked Hoseok, ignoring Jungkook.

“No, but I’m down to try.”

“Sorry for keeping you up,” Jungkook said with a tired sigh as he looked at you hoping for a bit of acknowledgment on your part but you were currently helping Hoseok seal a mason jar with green candle wax.

Look…

Just listen…

Jungkook doesn’t think he has a type. He’s been with every type of girl possible since he started college but he’s never spoken to anyone like you. It’s not even just the way you’re dressed or the way you speak to your car but it’s also the store you worked at—or owned[?]. You’ve got his best friend making a good luck spell in the middle of the night and yet all Jungkook could think about is how cute you were.

Your skirt was fitted and it hugged your waist perfectly, exposing your torso and the way your shawl hung around your elbows instead of your shoulders was hot. You had these eyes that drew him in too, maybe it was your smudged dark makeup that made them stand out or the way you didn’t shy from staring into his eyes but he found it hard to look away.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” you said to him, “I was going to stay up anyway. I’ve already set up water to charge overnight.”

His brows furrowed, “Well, thanks anyway. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi,” Hoseok said with a confident smile, “This great wizard is Jungkook.”

“Dumbledore,” you said questioningly, “You took off your beard.”

“It was itchy,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly.

You looked behind him, “Coal doesn’t seem to think so.”

Jungkook followed your stare, finding the black cat suddenly wearing the long white beard. Hoseok laughed, “Not you putting the beard on the cat, Kook.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Did I?”

You brushed past him, a soft scent of lavender incense overwhelmed him in a pleasant way and he couldn’t help but watch you in awe. There was just something about you… or maybe he’s had a long night and is imagining it.

“Joon is here.”

He can’t explain what it is but he can’t stop looking at you. Every move you made had his attention no matter how small and for a moment he forgot who else was around.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok snapped his fingers in front of his face, pointing out the window at the car parked outside, “Namjoon is here.”

“Oh, right,” Jungkook shook his head to snap out of the small trance he had been in, “Um, thank you Y/n, for letting us in.”

“No worries, Dumbledore, it made for an interesting night,” you held your cat in your arms now, forcing it to wave its paw goodbye, “And I do hope you tell me if the spell worked, Hobi.”

The two wanderers left the small shop of wonders and got in their friend’s car without further question, ending their night on a strange note that left one of them with curiosity.

The shop was home to you. It is where you felt most comfortable and it was passed down to you from a young age. It was a responsibility to help everyone who walked in, even if they asked for questionable things, you had to be there for them.

That’s why when a woman came in with tears down her face and a bundle of cash, you couldn’t just turn her away. Today your friend was working with you and he excelled in this sort of magic better than you did so you let him take the reel. He never seemed to mind intervening in the love lives of others and the shop was a safe space for men who’ve just been robbed and women who’ve been wronged.

“He’s a cheater,” she cried, “He lied to me a-and he thinks I’m just dumb. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” your friend said with a small smile, “Men like that can’t just walk around without any repercussions.”

“Jimin,” you warned him softly, watching the way he seemed to get the woman hyped on the thought of getting back at her husband. This is where he specialized, any sort of love magic no matter how bad, he loved it. You weren’t like him, you believed too much in karma to involve yourself in bad situations but you were never able to talk him out of it and it made the customer happy.

“Hush, Y/n, a simple hex never hurt anyone,” Jimin said, practically kicking his feet with glee, “Would that make you feel better, honey?”

The woman nodded her head, completely hypnotized by your best friend he disappeared behind another curtain toward the greenhouse. You waited behind idly, unsure what to do or say when a delivery driver pulled up in front of the building. Coal had flipped the sign to ‘CLOSED’ while Jimin performed his magic and the driver got out of his car holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box.

“Trust me, after this he won’t ever be able to please another woman again,” Jimin told her as he cut into a rotten eggplant.

You left the two quietly, making your way to the front door and ignoring the instructions Jimin gave the woman as she began to repeat the small chant he said.

You opened the shop door, stepping out, “Are you looking for someone?”

“Um… is this Scarlet&Sage? I’m looking for a Y/n.”

“That’s me,” you told him with furrowed brows, eyes widening as he practically shoved the bouquet of flowers into your hands and the gift box, asking you to sign before leaving. It took you a moment to process what happened before you headed back inside, just in time to watch Jimin finish the hex by helping the woman sew up the cut eggplant with candle wax and twine.

“You’ll want to leave this somewhere he can’t find it,” Jimin told her but you left before you could hear anything else.

You carried your things to the back room which was really just an extended shed of herbs and dried plants, Coal following close behind with curiosity as you opened up the small envelope inside.

‘Thank you for helping two strangers out so late in the night :) hopefully we’ll cross paths again

— Jeon Jungkook, Dumbledore’

The letter made you smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks when you pulled the lid off the box and gasped. Inside were two things, the first being a black hair clip with a pretty design on it and the second was a cat toy—Halloween themed. There was a sticky note on the plush skeleton fish that said, ‘For Cole’ on it that had you both sighing in disbelief.

Coal scratched at the note until it fell away from his new toy and ran away with it, surely to sulk at the misspelling of his name and pretend like he didn’t like the gift.

“Who’s the admirer?”

A light yell left your lips, nearly dropping the box as Jimin appeared at the doorway, “What admirer?”

“This one,” Jimin took the bouquet, examining it quickly with pursed lips, “Do tell me, Y/n, I am dying for the smallest sign of human interaction you might receive. I feel like you’ve become a recluse.”

“I have not,” you argued, letting him cut the tips of the stems, summoning over a vase with a wave of his hand that had it sliding across the wooden countertop to where he was, “I just… I do not have the time.”

“For?” Jimin asked setting the flowers up beautifully for you, “Oh whatever, just tell me who the flowers are from.”

“Nobody important,” you said almost shyly as your friend led the way back into the shop, ducking his head under twinkly lights and waving a finger to flip the sign back to ‘OPEN’, “The other night two men came in. They needed a phone and I let them use mine, that’s all.”

“Were they attractive?” Jimin asked with a raised brow, his instincts tingling at the hint of romance. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams played in the background filling in the silence you left behind as you stopped to think about it.

The other night you met a dead hockey player and Dumbledore. Jungkook had been covered completely by old rags until the end when he took off the beard and even then the poor night lighting didn’t do well to make him attractive.

Still, part of you knew the two men would be considered popular just based on their looks.

“I think so,” you told him honestly, “It was hard to know, they were dressed up for a costume party.”

“You should have asked for their number,” Jimin said humorously, “Maybe then this god awful dryspell of yours would end.”

You rolled your eyes at his play on words before welcoming in a group of girls headed toward the crystals, “It’s not a dryspell and we both know it.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “The curse. You give it too much power, sure there have been accidents in the past but those were all mere coincidence!”

“I’m sorry, but my first boyfriend losing a finger just a week after he fingered me for the first time doesn’t sound coincidental,” you half whispered and half shouted.

“It was a bowling accident!” Jimin laughed loudly.

“And what about the guy next door who used to help me water my plants before his house caught on fire?” You asked with a tilt of your hand that had him shrugging.

“Maybe he should’ve worried about the dry air in his own home before coming to yours,” Jimin joked.

“I’m serious, Jimin. Anyone who shows even the slightest interest in me gets hurt, and I mean literally not figuratively,” you said.

It was not a secret and your best friend knew it. Everyone who practiced the craft around here knew of the curse bestowed upon your family.

A curse on any man that dared love any woman in your family—you’ve seen it happen before and you’re not interested in hurting someone because of a centuries old curse you were born with.

Jimin had nothing to say now as he looked at the flowers with such curiosity he could practically picture the man who sent them.

Jeon Jungkook was special and everyone around him knew it. From his looks to his personality, there was not a single person unable to be charmed by him. It was a gift, really, just one smile or one look and he could practically get whatever he wants.

Of course, that’s not always a good thing, and that’s why he takes full blame for what happened last weekend. If he had known the girl who flirted with him had a boyfriend… he would have never hooked up with her in the bathroom. If they never hooked up then his things wouldn’t have been stolen and his tire wouldn’t have been slashed.

Sometimes he forgets that his actions have consequences and that night he learned how much of an asshole he really is to kiss a taken woman. The only good thing that came from it was the strange visit to an even stranger shop with an owner who blew his mind away.

He was beginning to think there’s something wrong with him. Why can’t he stop thinking about you? At first he thought it was out of guilt for bothering you that late so he had flowers delivered as a thank you but you still haven’t left his head. He’s nearly forgotten what you look like and he doesn’t like that.

“I can’t believe I got the promotion,” Hoseok said with a smirk as he plopped down on the chair next to Jungkook’s.

“You worked hard for it,” Jungkook reminded him.

“What if that little jar really did help?” Hoseok asked curiously, making Jungkook laugh suddenly and his brows furrowed, “I’m serious, Kook. I really thought they were gonna give it to the other guy.”

“Hobi, you worked your ass off for it,” Jungkook told him honestly, “Some stupid jar of cloves and cinnamon didn’t do it.”

That made his friend roll his eyes, “Whatever, I’m still stopping by the shop to offer my thanks—“

“You’re going back?” Jungkook asked, a look of interest in his eyes, an idea running rampant in his head at the thought.

There was a sudden urge to see you again running through his veins.

The shop felt surprisingly cozier during the day and it smelled of pomegranate and basil. A few customers shopped around, unable to help themselves from watching the two attractive men look every bit out of place as they felt while a man helped behind the counter.

Jimin popped his head over a jar of worms, eyes widening as he practically ran up the spiral steps in search of you. Your eyes were closed as you imagined a white light running over your body eliminating any piece of bad energy in sight. A set of silver headphones played lulling sounds of nature and the flicker of white candles helped lighten the dark room as you attempted to do your midday meditation. You sat with your legs crossed neatly and your floral skirt touched the ground even when your body floated in the air in concentration.

“Y/n!”

You’ve become one with your surroundings, you felt the energy coursing through you with each deep inhale and exhale you let out and your body became weightless, unable to think of anything but absolute clarity.

“Y/n!”

The sudden yank on your headphones caused you to snap out of the trance, falling to the ground with a hard thud that had you hissing in pain, “Ow!”

“He’s here!” Jimin said, snapping the candles off while helping you untangle your headphones.

“Who?” You asked, wrapping your loose cardigan tighter around your torso.

“The one who delivered the flowers,” Jimin said urgently as he took your hand in his and practically rushed you downstairs. You didn’t even get a chance to put your shoes back on and you had to hold the end of your matcha green skirt up to keep from dragging across the floorboards.

“How do you kno—“

“Instincts,” Jimin said, wiggling his nose, “I can just tell.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him as you joined him downstairs, not fully believing he knew who he was talking about until you saw it with your own eyes. Hoseok was much more familiar to you than the other considering his costume still looked like him but Jungkook was the one who caught your attention. He ditched the gray robes for black jeans and a white shirt under a black and white leather jacket. His hair was sleek and he had facial piercings you didn’t remember seeing last time but he looked good…

“Y/n! I got the promotion!” Hoseok said cheerfully, taking your focus for himself. You smiled sweetly, “Really? That’s wonderful.”

Jungkook found himself speechless when he saw you appearing from behind the celestial tapestry. He can’t explain it but you looked utterly beautiful. The crystal suncatcher he had seen the other night proved its purpose today by reflecting a soft rainbow on your complexion and he found it hypnotizing.

“Did you receive my flowers?” He found himself asking, damn near stuttering. Today you wore a matcha green floral skirt and a cream colored cardigan matched with some crystals around your neck. It didn’t sneak past him the fact that you were barefoot but it seemed to fit you either way.

“I did, they smelled wonderful,” you said joyously, “But…”

His lips parted with worry, ready to ask what happened when a deep meow took his attention. Your black cat curled around your skirt practically begging to be picked up and you did just that, cuddling the feline against your chest, “Coal is a bit bothered by the gift.”

Jungkook was left confused, watching the cat who seemed to be glaring at him, “Cole is?”

“Yeah, you see, you spelled his name wrong,” you said with a sigh, “His name is coal like the carbonized rock, not a man’s name.”

“Oh?” Jungkook tilted his head, “Oh. Coal, black as coal?”

“It’s because he’s a black cat,” Hoseok said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world to name your cat after a fire starter.

“Well, maybe he could appreciate the effort?” Jungkook asked, trying not to think of how ridiculous he sounded practically begging the feeling for forgiveness.

“He’s a bit of a grudge holder but maybe he’ll come around,” you said with a distressed sigh, staring off into the distance seeming like your mind was miles away. Hoseok had lost interest in the conversation as he began to skim through a book about runes while your coworker slash best friend pretended not to eavesdrop behind the counter. Jungkook watched you curiously as you focused on a group of teenage girls nosing through the incense sticks.

“Whatever you said to Hobi seemed to work the other day, he aced the interview,” Jungkook said, feeling the need to try and talk to you still. There’s just something about you.

Your entire essence felt whimsical and he wishes he could pinpoint what has his heart beating so fast but he can’t.

“It was the spell,” you told him with a smile, letting it fade when he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious,” your eyes narrowed, “We put a lot of effort into it.”

Jungkook would love to argue about magic and spells not being real but it was very clear this was not the place to do it—especially not when he can hear the guy behind the counter offer a potion to someone. He seemed like a con artist and yet you worked with him, did that make you one too? When he looked at you, he could easily assume you were dressed up for Halloween, it was October and some people go all out for the month. That could be you…

Or you could be playing a part for the store, doing whatever you could to get the sales going even if it meant packaging herbs in mason jars and calling it a spell.

The look you were giving him made it obvious that you were beginning to question his intentions too and he felt the need to backtrack even if his instincts were telling him not to, “Well uh, whatever you um… did worked.”

You flashed him a pretty smile, already losing interest in him as you turned around to see who was in the store. He couldn’t help but try and follow after you in hopes of keeping your attention on him but when he took a step, he nearly tripped and had to grab you for support. The two of you looked down, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, “Coal! You do not play tricks on people just because you’re mad.”

The cat meowed in response as you suddenly dropped to your knees before him, his heart racing at the action until you began to untie his shoelaces which had been knotted together so he would trip when he took a step. Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t remember doing that.”

“It was Coal,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “If anyone knows how to hold a grudge it’s that cat. Coal, say sorry.”

As if the cat understood what you said, he meowed as he ran off, making sure to hit Jungkook’s leg with his tail. He shook his head in disbelief at the way Coal responded so human-like, wondering if his dog acted this way too at times but he didn’t. Bam was always sweet and energetic, not a grudge holder or trickster like the feline. With a sigh he tried moving on, looking around for you only for you to be going behind a curtain toward a greenhouse. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you, not caring about the sign that said no customers and searching for you.

“So, Y/n, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow,” Jungkook said suddenly, “I was thinking we can get dinner as a thank you for the other night.”

“Oh,” you came to a stop, staring at a basket of molasses and shook your head, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook was left speechless, unsure what to say as you once again seemed to disappear before his very own eyes, leaving him to look around confused and alone. He had no choice but to head back to the main store where he found you tying a string around Hoseok’s wrist. How did you move so quickly?

You mumbled something to his friend that he couldn’t quite hear and he’ll admit it made him a bit jealous. It’s not that he had strong feelings for you but here he is fighting plowing after that y only for you to wander off away from him. Was something wrong with him? Were you more interested in Hoseok? Jungkook had never struggled to keep a girl’s attention and yet it feels like your mind is everywhere else but him. Sure, you might be different from his usual type but did that mean he was different from yours? What kind of guy is your type anyway?

Someone with glasses who likes astrology?

“Jungkook,” you called for him rather softly and yet he went to you as if on command. You held up a string necklace with some sort of rock or marble on it and he didn’t hesitate to lean down so you could put it on him. It was a blue marble with a white circle and a black dot inside the circle.

“What is this?” He asked, swallowing dryly when your hands brushed against his neck.

“It has many names depending on where you’re from but, it’s an evil eye. It helps protect you from misfortune and anyone who wishes ill intent toward you,” you told him, making sure the bead sat perfectly between his collarbone, “I figured after the night you got your things stolen, it was better to stay protected.”

“Is there anything that would protect me against him, Y/n?” Hoseok joked, joining the two of you now, “If anyone brings me bad luck it’s Jungkook considering he’s the reason everyone’s always out to get us.”

He turned to Hoseok ready to tell him to shut up but his friend always struggled to read the room. Hoseok just laughed like he was telling the funniest joke, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Who’s the one who made out with a girl who’s already taken?”

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said and despite it being the truth, everyone looked at him differently now.

“So you’re one of those guys,” the man behind the counter said with a mischievous smirk that had Jungkook turning around to look at him. “One of what guys?”

“The ones I hex—“

“So!” You cut Jimin off suddenly, standing directly in front of Jungkook now, chest nearly touching his that his breath caught in his throat, “What are your plans for the night? Are we taking too much of your time? I’m sure it was a long drive out.”

“Is this a subtle way of saying it’s about time we leave?” Jungkook asked with an amused smile, a bit taken back by how flustered you seem to be. There was something charming about you, a complete stranger, and it keeps drawing him in. He finds you physically attractive in a way he’s never found anyone like before. He thinks you dress differently, you present yourself differently, you remind him of a fairy or some mythological creature—just enchanting… and it makes him feel ridiculous.

Why does he feel this way toward you?

“I—That’s not h-how I meant it,” you shook your head, blush running through your cheeks, “I just assumed you probably had more important things to do.”

“And what if I said this was the important thing for today?” He asked with a tilt of his head, not caring much for his friend who was busy looking at all the crystals or the guy behind the counter who pretended not to listen, “Talking to you.”

This time around he raised a smile from you, “It would be flattering, but I know it’s not.”

He smiled, “What if it was?”

You didn’t hesitate to look into his eyes despite the way he seemed to close the distance between you like you were the only two in the shop, “It’s not.”

“Why don’t you think so?” He asked, attempting to rest his arm on the counter only for him to hit Coal instead, awkwardly jumping back and watching you smile with amusement.

“Because it would be so sad to hold a mere occurrence with me, a complete stranger, with such high importance.” The tone you said it in sounded cute, like you were genuinely pitying him for living such a boring life even if that wasn’t the case.

It took Jungkook a second to process your response and he couldn’t go any further. It was very clear you didn’t want him around anymore and you already rejected his proposal to go out. He did not want to seem like a pushy person and he has to just accept that you’re simply not interested. Does it make sense to him? No. He’s a catch, every girl tends to want him—but he won’t push any further.

He swears.

“I guess we’ll get going then and let you get back to work,” Jungkook couldn’t help but look back down at your patterned skirt or pretty neck adorned with handmade jewelry, “Maybe next time I’ll buy something.”

“Next time?” You asked as he grabbed the back of Hoseok’s shirt, dragging him behind toward the front door. Jungkook smirked, “Yeah! I mean… this can’t possibly be the end, right?”

“Well, I didn’t think anything here would pique your interest,” you said looking around at the dangling gold stars and the hanging tapestries stuck to the ceiling.

“On the contrary,” he practically mimicked your form of speech as he shoved Hobi out the door, “My interest has been piqued. I’ll see you around?”

You wrapped your cardigan around yourself more snugly, feet finally growing cold under the flooring and appearing more flustered, “I guess so.”

He smiled, waving goodbye as he fought off Hoseok who nearly jumped over him to bid his own farewell.

“Oh, he’s smitten,” Jimin laughed the second the door shut with the chime of the bell above it. It made you roll your eyes almost instantly, “He’ll get over it. He seems like a flirt.”

“Mhm, and he’s flirting with you,” Jimin said, watching you with amusement, “Whatever shall you do?”

“What I always do,” you told him matter-of-factly, “Ignore.”

Jimin looked down at the book of moon magic before him, pretending to skim through it, “Like you always do? And how’s that working out for your love life.”

“Listen to yourself, you love witch,” you said with a groan, lifting a finger to slide the book away from him without touching it, “He’s a stranger.”

“Don’t they always start out that way?” Invincible hands opened the book for him as it slid across the counter till it was directly in front of him again and he resumed to read.

Jimin shrugged, “I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to open up to someone.”

“It would probably kill them.”

“Yeah, but there are plenty of fish in the sea and way too many men in the world.”

The sky was a shade between blue and gray, and every now and then he could feel a rare drop of water fall on him as it threatened to sprinkle. The autumn leaves crunched under his thick shoes as he crossed the lawn of the courtyard on his way to his next class—running behind only a little.

You would think being in his last semester of schooling would make him have his shit together but it really only seems to make his life a bigger mess than before. It’s like it hasn’t clicked in his mind yet how close he is to the end and he still wants to spend his weekends getting drunk at parties and showing up to Monday morning lectures way too late.

“Jungkook!”

To be honest, he doesn’t ever want to admit it but his life is a hot mess. He’s all over the place—all the time. He gets into bad situations with girls and he does awful in school. He’s not that great at work and he struggles to focus on anything but he doesn’t know what to do.

The night of the party was a bit of a wake up call to him. Obviously he hadn’t changed yet but… he got his shit stolen and his car broke down in the same night. That’s enough drama to get a man thinking about his life choices. He needs to make changes but he doesn’t know how. How does he give up the parties and the drinking so he could take things more seriously?

“Jungkook!”

“Huh?” He slipped an AirPod out of his ear as he turned around in search of who called for him. About a foot or so away from him stood a girl, short blonde hair, painted red lips and Chanel jewelry on. She was the sort of attractive that anyone walking past might turn and stare but he just seemed to tilt his head with curiosity.

“We met at the club a few weeks ago, remember?” She asked, looking up at him with flirty eyes, “You bought me a drink?”

“I did?” Jungkook asked, letting his eyes trail down her head to her body and so on, “What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, I was wondering if you were busy today? I’ve seen you around campus and I still owe you for the drink so how about some coffee?” She asked running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m good but thanks,” Jungkook said, already attempting to walk away. He’s late for his lecture and he’s sure the professor won’t bother opening the door for him so he’s better off going to the library until his next class. He’s got two more lectures and then he’ll work tonight so there’s no time to go out with a girl he doesn’t even remember the name of.

“Wait! I just… yknow. I just want to say thank you for the drink,” she follows after him, “One cup won’t hurt anyone, right?”

He looked back down at her with a sigh. She really was cute and his usual type but he’s not interested. Sure he has about two hours before his next lecture but does he really want to waste that time on some girl he met while drunk [that he most likely only approached because he wanted to hook up with her?].

“Alright, can I pick the place?” Jungkook asked suddenly, watching the girls eyes widen happily as she eagerly nodded her head.

Jungkook had no idea why he agreed or where he even planned on taking her, he just knew it was a bit far but familiar—to him, at least.

He didn’t give her much room to come up with anything either before they were catching a bus to the other side of town where the buildings looked older and more fit for the fall season with the dead leaves and puddles in the dark pavement. Scarlet&Sage looked surprisingly busy today with customers going in and out without stop.

He only knew this because the coffee shop he was currently at was right across the street from it. Please do not ask him how this came about… he’s not sure. He just remembers seeing the cafè the last time he came over here and when the blonde girl asked for coffee it was the first place that came to mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with the whimsical character he’s encountered in the small shop of wonders.

“So, do you like the coffee here?” The blonde asked as they sat at a small round table near the large window that gave him the perfect view of the outside.

“It’s alright,” Jungkook mumbled, looking down at his cup wondering what you might be doing.

It’s not that he was weirdly obsessed or anything. He was just mildly interested.

Mildly.

His attention should be on the blonde but he couldn’t even remember her name and he was too embarrassed to ask. He talks to a lot of girls like her… he’s hooked up with a lot of girls like her and sometimes they all start to blend and he just can’t pick them apart. As stated, the blonde is hot, he’s not going to deny that and clearly he had approached her at some club for that reason but right now she just seems so bland.

It’s become a bit of a problem of his and he’s beginning to notice it. Jungkook did not consider himself a player by any means but he would be lying if he said he didn’t date a lot of girls. That’s why right now that he’s with some random girl who invited him to coffee, he couldn’t really think of her. He only agreed as an excuse to come to this side of town in hopes of stopping by the shop but now he’s stuck here with a stranger while you’re across the street doing who knows what.

The shop had been busy at open but once the rush had gone, things had visibly slowed down for the two witches. Jimin was bored to death, arguing with Coal over the dumbest of things and you tried busying yourself with useless flicks of your finger to turn on and off all the candles on the counter. Crystals by Stevie Nicks played from a small boombox tucked into a bookshelf and the cold autumn day dragged by too slow for your liking.

It’s not that you expect an exciting day on the regular but ever since you met those two strangers one October night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would have more occurrences like that. When Jungkook sent the gift and flowers it was a nice surprise that brightened your day and when he and Hoseok popped in a few days later… well that also brought a sense of warmth. It couldn’t possibly be because you were interested in seeing Jungkook again despite how obviously handsome he was.

You do not allow yourself to fall in love or even gain a small crush toward anyone when you know the repercussions. Jimin could mock you for it all he wants but the curse has proven to be true time and time in your line of witches and you do not want anyone to fall victim to it because you foolishly allowed yourself to like someone.

Sure, deep down you’re a romantic but aren’t most people? Don’t most people wish to meet that one person that makes their heart race or their smile widen? Someone they find comfort in without even realizing it at first but once you do you don’t ever want to leave their arms? Isn’t that what everyone wishes even when they don’t know it? Even the most anti-romantic individual must at some point crave the intimacy that comes with finding the one they love.

It’s inevitable to feel this way but you can’t act upon any feelings you might have toward someone—you shouldn’t, and therefore you remain single despite something inside you wishing to change that. It’s for the best, honestly and maybe if you wish strong enough… you’ll never have to see Jungkook again because despite not knowing him at all… you can’t help but think about him.

“Y/n, I have a favor to ask,” Jimin said with a sigh as he joined you at the counter, “And there was nobody else I could think to ask this of aside from my most beautiful celestially whimsical best friend.”

The corners of your lips curved upward, rolling your eyes playfully as you waited for him to go on and just say it. His eyes met yours and with an adorable pout he asked, “Do you mind running to the post office for me? I’ve got a palm reading appointment in ten.”

“Oh, I suppose I could make a quick run,” you told him with a dramatic sigh, fighting back a smile when he squeezed your face in his hands. “I absolutely adore you, you beautiful witch.”

Jimin left to retrieve two white envelopes he needed you to drop off and you took them happily, heading to the door when you turned back to look at him, “Remind how amazing I am for doing the smallest of tasks for you.”

“Undeniably amazing.”

The coffee at the cafe was not memorable at all, in fact, Jungkook doesn’t know if he would ever come back again but deep down he knows he will, even if it’s just an excuse to stare at Scarlet&Sage. He’s ashamed to admit he couldn’t even pretend to act interested in what the blonde said and at some point she must’ve realized that because they sat together in silence. Her eyes wandered around the cafe while his focused on the brick storefront of your shop, wondering if he should stop by and say hello or not.

When the door seemed to open from the inside, he could physically feel his heart race and soon enough… you were there standing in a dark blue velvet slip dress with brown leather boots and golden star clips in your hair, shivering slightly with the cold and he acted before he could think.

“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said abruptly, raising to his feet, not bothering to even look back at the blonde when she called his name and left the shop with all his things.

“Y/n!”

You read the sending addresses on the envelopes, smiling when you realized Jimin was sending this to a good friend of yours. At first, you didn’t hear the call of your name. If anything made you stop, it was the sudden howl of wind that had a stream of fallen leaves circling around you, following the sight of them until you turned back to find the one person you had been thinking about standing there before you.

“Jungkook?” You couldn’t hide the look of pleasant surprise on your face as you gave him a moment to catch up to you, “Did you trim your hair?”

That made him pause for a moment as he ran his fingers through the short black hair, shy smile on his face, “I did. Does it look bad?”

He didn’t ask where you were going when he began to walk alongside you. You shook your head, “I like it. It suits you, but I’m sure everything does, Dumbledore.”

“Will you ever let that go?” He asked slightly embarrassed by the worst night of his life and how strangely it was the reason the two of you met.

“Oh, of course,” you said, unable to catch the playful tone in his voice, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn—you didn—I just meant…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um… so what are you doing?”

“I’m running an errand for Jimin,” you told him casually, turning the corner of the block with him at your side, “And what about you?”

“I wanted to try the coffee place across the street from you. I missed a class today and had time so…” Jungkook bit his lip wondering what more to say.

“The coffee is not good,” you said and he smiled. “It isn’t.”

“So… Y/n, I know last time you said it wasn’t a good idea but… I don’t know, I was wondering if maybe we could still try and get dinner. I don’t mean to push bu—“

“Why?” You asked suddenly, big sparkly eyes staring at him that he felt his breath hitch when the two of you stopped in front of the post office. He had to blink away the shock a few times before he was able to snap back into reality. Jungkook reached for the door, hearing the sound of bells above as he let you brush past him and head inside.

Why? What did you mean why? Did you find it strange that he wanted to go out with you? Did you think he had no valid reason to seek you out? Did he?

You left his side to drop the envelopes down the shoot before returning to him with a soft hum, singing some indie song in your head, thanking him when he held the door open for you again.

“I wish I could give you a million reasons as to why but I can’t,” Jungkook told you honestly, watching the way you seemed to shiver in the cold again. You forgot a cardigan or shawl and were sincerely regretting it now. He didn’t hesitate to take off his crewneck, offering it to you despite the cold biting his skin now and he finished his thoughts, “I only have one, Y/n and I think it’s fairly simple. I want to get to know you because I find you beautiful and interesting and you make me curious.”

“A lot of people are beautiful and interesting,” you tried to brush him off despite the sudden warmth running through your veins as you became overwhelmed by the lingering scent of his cologne on the sweater.

“But not like you,” he said and he surprised himself. When has he ever called someone beautiful and mean it? Another rustle of wind carried dead leaves in the air, this time circling around the two of you and you couldn’t help but watch one get caught in his hair.

“I don’t get you,” you admitted, walking a bit faster toward the shop now, “We’re practically strangers still and I’ve said no once so… yknow… I mean… wouldn’t you have other girls to try? Probably prettier ones and more outgoing so really there’s no need to try and go out with me when I’m sure you have better options out there with people you’re much closer to.”

Jungkook scoffed, a small smirk on his face, “I didn't think there was anything to get. I… well… yes, I do know others who I could ask but I’m not interested in any of them, only you.”

Was it that obvious that he had become a bit of a player? A romantic who jumped into relationships or flings for the adrenaline they brought? Could you read that on his face? With the way you turned to look into his eyes, he wondered if that really was the case.

You shouldn’t involve yourself with him.

It’ll only complicate things.

He seems to be a flirt, he could get anyone he wants so why is he stuck on you?

You’re already a bit interested in him too and that’s dangerous but when you look at his neck and see the necklace you gave him, you felt happy—not good.

“I’m a witch.”

Jungkook chuckled suddenly, unable to tell if you were trying to change the mood or scare him off, “Good thing it’s October and it’s the Season of the Witch.”

He doesn’t believe you, obviously—or well, not to the extent that you mean. It’s not a secret you like the craft but he doesn’t expect you to have a flying broomstick lying around.

“It’s the truth, Jungkook,” you told him as you neared the shop, “And that means I’m not good for you.”

“Why? Because you have a black cat and love crystals?” Jungkook joked lightheartedly.

“No. Because I have a curse to those who like me and it could really put them in danger,” you said and for a second he seemed to falter… genuinely wondering if you were being serious or not. He doesn’t believe in magic or curses like you’ve convinced Hobi to but it was an odd thing to say… maybe.

Maybe it wasn’t odd at all considering your lifestyle choice but…

But…

No.

You can’t just suddenly tell him that and expect him to believe it. It’s one thing to be fascinated by it all and open a store about it and actually—

Magic isn’t real.

Curses aren’t real.

“So you reject me because of a curse?” He asked, studying you closely to see how he would react. You didn’t reject him because you were uninterested, but because you believe you’re cursed? He knew you were a bit odd when he first met you but to this extent? And to know it hadn’t scared him back to the blonde who was surely already visiting Jimin to hex him. “And not because you want nothing to do with me?”

You bit your lip, “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, “Y/n, curses only have power if you believe in them and I don’t.”

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should be offended by his utter blindness to the magical or amazed by his clear mindset. What were you going on about? Did you expect him to run away when you said? Had you hoped he would? Would that have made it easier to not think about him? Maybe he just doesn’t fully believe you yet. Magic is a hard thing for everyone to accept.

People don’t want to believe what they can’t see.

“I should head inside now,” you told him quietly and you could visibly see the way he dejected, with his shoulders drooping, “And there’s something sticking out of your pocket.”

Jungkook barely had a second to process what you said before you were leaving him alone outside with his eyebrows furrowed as he felt around his black jeans with confusion.

His gaze softened with curiosity as he pulled out a piece of folded parchment paper from his pocket and opened it hurriedly.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you but here’s my number. xxx-xxx-xxxx — Y/n ☽’

Despite the utter confusion he felt on how you managed to put this note in his pocket, he felt more happy to know you’re opening yourself to him. He could worry about the strangeness of this later when it doesn’t feel like he’s on cloud 9 from simply getting a girls number.

“Jungkook!”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to hide a growing smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, looking up with surprise as the blonde came up to him, “What happened? You suddenly left with some weirdo an—“

“I’m not interested,” Jungkook rushed out, “I’m so sorry, I seriously am but I can’t even remember your name and I’ve been too embarrassed to ask. You seem very nice and I’m sure I would’ve loved to get to know you but… but I want to pursue something with someone else. She’s a witch, apparently, which I find it hard to believe but she’s given me this note and I have no idea when she managed to give it to me without me knowing but it’s all so interesting and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before over something so sm—“

“Asshole,” the girl gave him a small shove, cutting off his rant and stormed away from him. He watched her go with a bit of pity because she was right. He was an asshole… for taking her invitation and using it to meet you. For leading other girls on and leaving them when he was bored. For wasting their time and he swears he does feel awful now.

He wants to be different and he’s wondering if his racing heart for you would be the start.

Even with the shove the blonde had given him, he couldn’t help but smile and pull out the paper again to read over the note as many times as necessary just to remember today.

And so it began despite the countless amount of times you told yourself not to fall for anyone. It was hard when he was texting you as often as he could.

jungkook: I still want to kno how u got the note in my pocket

y/n: with magic, silly

jungkook: like a magician’s?

y/n: no :/

y/n: like a witch’s.

jungkook: …

jungkook: why are u so cute

y/n: glamour magic?

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Jungkook’s friend asked one day as they met up at the campus library. He looked up at Taehyung who sat down across from him on some comfortable lounge chairs, already getting his laptop out.

“Her name’s Y/n,” Jungkook sat up, “She’s a bit strange and unusual—but in a good way!”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Cool, I guess. Anyway, are you coming this weekend?”

“Where to?” He asked, biting his lip as he thought of what to say back.

jungkook: or maybe that’s just how u are

y/n: maybe ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა but I’m dangerous

“Joon’s Halloween party,” Taehyung said, watching his friend smile before quickly typing.

jungkook: right…

jungkook: bc of the curse?

y/n: yeah

jungkook: nothing has happened to me yet

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he looked up for a mere second.

“Who?! Boy, don’t play with me. Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, big meaty buff Namjoon, our friend?” Taehyung scoffed with a laugh. Jungkook chuckled, “Oh right. Um… maybe.”

y/n: that’s bc we haven’t gone out

jungkook: so let’s change that and test the theory

jungkook: what r u doing tonight?

“I’ve invited some girls to meet us there, super hot, trust me you’ll like em,” Taehyung said despite how obvious Jungkook’s interest in you seemed. He had literally just brought you up and yet Taehyung didn’t seem to think that was going to stop Jungkook from wanting to meet other girls.

“Yeah…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited for you to answer, “I’m not really interested.”

Taehyung audibly laughed, not believing his friend as he opened his laptop to do some work. Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, “I’m serious. I’m talking to someone right now.”

“I mean… are you bringing her this weekend?” Taehyung asked, making Jungkook shrug his shoulders. “I’m not sure Y/n would want to go.”

y/n: it’s a full moon tonight

y/n: but I’m free

jungkook: want to go out for dinner?

y/n: okay ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

The smile that grew on his face from your text nearly slipped when Taehyung spoke up, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Come on man, it’s not like you’re dating anyone and if so when has that ever stopped you from a good time?”

“I’m not saying I won’t go, but I’m saying I don’t want to talk to any other girls, man,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he checked the time on his screen, “Alright, I’ve got to get ready.”

“Why? You don’t work till later, right?” Taehyung asked while watching his friend gather his things to leave. Jungkook nodded, “Yeah but I’ve got plans after so I have to get ready now. I’ll see you this weekend?”

Taehyung gave up on his friend and waved him off with a dismissed goodbye.

“A date?!” Jimin nearly yelled into your ear as the two of you watered the plants in the greenhouse, “You have a date tonight?!”

“No,” you shook your head, “It's not like that… Jungkook and I are just getting dinner.”

“As a date,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes, “There’s no point denying it, Y/n. I will admit he’s not the type I thought you would go for but I support it fully if it means you’ll finally let someone in.”

“Why are you being so dramatic?” You asked, “I’m… I only agreed to dinner because he asked and I didn’t want to reject him again. Once he’s gotten. What he wants I’m sure he’ll move on to the next.”

“Y/n,” Jimin’s tone was stronger than usual, “I don’t believe that. Even if Jungkook seems to be the type… he can clearly tell there’s something about you that makes things worthwhile. Stop doubting it and just allow yourself to go out with someone.”

Just as you were about to try and brush this off with an excuse that you had to leave, Coal came prancing in holding the small skeleton fish Jungkook bought for him and set it before you to play.

When Jungkook arrived in front of the shop, he’s not sure what he expected. You looked as pretty as usual in a brown floral maxi dress and a thin lace cardigan and shimmer in your hair. You always looked pretty to him, natural and whimsical, ethereal. He’s not sure why he feels this way but he does and he likes the feeling.

“Hi,” Jungkook felt breathless as he held the car door open for you, unsure why he felt nervous at all. He’s been on hundreds of dinner dates, this was nothing new for him so why were his hands growing clammy?

“You’re nervous?” You asked, finger brushing against the front of his white shirt. A smile came to his face, “Maybe.”

“Why?” You asked even as your own heart raced with nerves.

“Honestly…” Jungkook bit his lip, waiting at your door, “I don’t know, you make me nervous.”

“Is that good or bad?” You asked.

“Good, I think,” Jungkook smiled as he shut the car door and rounded to his side.

He had no reason to be nervous, really, Jungkook was into you and he had a feeling you were into him too. Why else would you have agreed? Yes, you’re a bit strange and he still doesn’t understand what you mean by curse or how you got the note in his pocket but that doesn’t scare him. Why doesn’t that scare him?

Why did he suddenly feel like dinner wasn’t enough? He always had dinner dates. It was always his go-to first date idea.

You stared out the window as he started the car, completely unaware of his growing panic at the realization. You were more focused on the glowing moon than him and yet the silence in the car didn’t bother him. Usually, whoever he was with would talk his ear off but you were quiet right now. Were you growing bored of him before you gave him a chance to open himself up to you? Would you think the dinner reservation he set for tonight would be too cliché? You don’t seem like a 5-star restaurant date. You don’t seem like the type to care and yet he blindly set the date up in the same manner he did every other girl he went out with.

The thought alone was making him antsy and it was hard to miss the way his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he drove off.

“So, what restaurant are we going to?” You asked in a gentle voice, in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t seem so quiet. The question made him bite his lip, playing with his lip ring as his brows furrowed in thought, “I—um…”

His hands were clammy.

You blinked away your confusion, eyes dropping down to your lap as you asked, “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“No! I mean… I—I want to but uh,” Jungkook stopped at a red light, “I um…”

How does he tell you what he had planned tonight was the same thing he always did whenever he went on a date with a random girl?

How does he tell you that’s not what he wants for you?

“It’s a full moon tonight?” Jungkook asked suddenly, staring out his tinted windshield. You merely nodded your head silently.

“Change of plans then,” he mumbled to himself, turning on his blinker and when the light turned green he took a completely different route from that of the restaurant. You wanted to question him, wondering if he was taking you back home but after a while the city lights grew fewer and fewer and the hills got bigger and bigger.

Jungkook drove a short distance out of the city where large meadows began to cover fields and fields of hills. He pulled the car to the side of the road and without question he got out, opening the trunk first and you grew worried.

“Is this the plot twist? You drive me out of the city to plan my murder?” You jokingly asked as you got out of the car and joined his side. He rummaged through paper bags pulling out water bottles and small snack bags he must’ve bought a while ago. He grabbed an old blanket he tossed back there after crashing at Namjoon’s place and asked you to walk with him.

“No, it’s just,” Jungkook took a deep breath, trudging through the thick grass in the dark night with only the full moon and stars eliminating his way, “I want to do things differently with you. I wanted to get dinner, yes, but… but it’s a full moon, Y/n. Do you really want to spend your night indoors where you can’t even see it?”

He thought back to the star clips in your hair that shimmered like the sparkles in your eyes. The way you seemed to love the spirituality of life and he didn’t even have to know you well enough to know how in tune you are with nature. One look at you told him everything he needed to know and despite the cold autumn night… he knew you preferred it over wherever he planned on taking you.

“I…” you bit your lip nervously, following after him into the clear meadow surrounded by hills and a single road where the car had been parked, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook stopped to look at you, “I don't know how to explain it but you feel different to me. Since the first night we met, all I could think about was you and I don’t want to ruin the first chance you’ve given me to get to know you by doing the same thing I do every time. I want to do something that would be fun, maybe, different and more to your liking. I want to know why you brought up the moon tonight or why you talk about curses and glamours and why you enjoy the smell of incense. I want to know how the note got in my pocket and how you seem to communicate with Coal like you could truly understand him. The strangeness of it all fascinates me and sitting in a stuffy restaurant eating subpar food won’t tell me anything about you besides that you let me take you on a boring date.”

“You’re a bit strange,” you confessed, a smile growing on your face as small fireflies fill the meadow, “But I like it.”

Jungkook extended the blanket on the ground, throwing the things onto it before collapsing on his side waiting for you to join him. You sat down tucking your dress under your legs and moved to lay on your back, the sound of crickets somewhere off in the distance as you stared up at the sky.

Usually, Jungkook picked the noisiest of places possible so that he wouldn’t have to have his full attention on whoever he was dining with. If the conversation got boring he could always find somewhere else to focus before he would finally just invite him to his bed. Right now he’s got nowhere else to look aside from the night sky and you.

“Do you meditate?” You asked.

“No,” Jungkook said, turning on his back with an arm tucked under his head and the other on the blanket, “But I can try.”

“Okay, take even breaths and try to clear your mind,” you told him as you let your eyes close for a moment, “The full moon is a time to let go and welcome new energy in your life by reflecting on what you need to release.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he tried to listen to you, tried to visualize what he would like to let go. What did he need to reflect on?

Was it his grades? His shitty part time job at the convenience store? His past mistakes in relationships?

“Listen to the sounds around you, let them help you find inner peace,” you whispered with the wind catching his breath, small sounds of nature here and there, “Visualize your dreams, your reflections. Find your release.”

It’s his last semester of school and yet he misses class when he’s late. He agrees to go out with girls he has no real intention of getting to know and he puts himself in messy situations that drag his friends along too.

He’s tired of acting the same way he did when he was younger—never took responsibility and was always careless in his actions. Even the other when he went out with the blonde but not because he wanted her, but because he could use her as an excuse to himself to come seek you out. He disregarded her feelings.

When Taehyung approached him about the girls he wanted Jungkook to meet, he expect Jungkook to lie about seeing them even when he was interested in you because that’s what Jungkook usually did.

How does he change his ways?

Tonight he wants to release his toxic patterns.

He wants to embrace change and welcome the shift of energy you brought him. He wants to form deeper connections with those around him and open himself up to new possibilities, no matter how strange.

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice came out raspy as his hand felt around the blanket blindly until your fingers brushed against his and he was going to hold onto them, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked him, letting him hold your hand, ignoring the sudden tingle up your arm. His eyes opened, “How do you make me want to find comfort in you when you’re essentially still a stranger to me?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” you said.

“Tell me about the curse,” Jungkook couldn’t believe he was saying it. It was one thing to go along with the joke over text but now that he’s lying here with you, he’s curious.

“Really?” You asked looking at him, watching him nod his head making you sigh, “Why? You don’t believe in it anyway.”

“But you do,” he said truthfully, “And I want to see what makes you believe in i—“

His words slowed down as he watched a butterfly land on your fingertip as if you called for it yourself. He’s not sure if it meant anything or if it was just the utter fascination he had of you but he wanted to kiss you. It had nothing to do with getting you in his bed tonight and everything to do with just feeling you and when he raised his finger to touch yours, he took your hand and pulled you toward him.

You didn’t pull back like he thought you might, and before he could really process it, you were leaning into him. Jungkook placed a hand on your jaw, guiding your lips to his until finally, the softest touch made his insides melt. You kissed him gently, scared almost and his face fit perfectly between your hands as he hovered over you, eyes closed and warm to the touch.

Jungkook felt as if something burst inside him and he just wanted to chase that feeling with your kisses, unable to help himself from getting lost in the moment. He felt a bit numb to his surroundings, the only feeling he had was your lips on his and your tongue running along his with need. His breath was becoming short and the soft push of your hand on his shoulder had him pulling back reluctantly.

“You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips and he couldn’t help but break into a smile, pecking your lips one last time before letting his head drop against your chest.

“It’s late,” he said with a small sigh as he looked up at you, finding your eyes stuck on the full moon.

You looked down at him and he could practically see the way you glowed underneath him.

He didn’t believe in magic or witches but, how else would he explain this feeling of being under a love spell?

And if he allowed himself to believe in love spells then did he have to believe in curses too?

“Now what do you mean you’re not coming tonight?” His friend asked, sporting Jungkook as he did a set of bench presses.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it,” Jungkook answered, counting how many he did, “I’ve got plans with Y/n.”

“And what? She won’t let you out for one night?” Namjoon asked with a slight roll of his eyes as Jungkook set the bar back in place and sat up with deep breaths, “She can’t come with us?”

“It’s not like that,” he shook his head no, “I haven’t even mentioned it to her.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but scoff as he took Jungkook’s place, “Why not? Would she be mad if you told her that you were going out with friends, for fucks sake?”

“What? No, No, Y/n’s not like that,” Jungkook was getting annoyed with his friend’s assumptions, “But I already talked about this with Taehyung. I’m not interested in partying right now or anything. I just wanna… yknow, chill?”

“You don’t even sound like yourself,” Namjoon said with a laugh, deciding to not push any further, “But whatever, I get it.”

“Get what?” Jungkook watched him move the bar to begin his set.

“You’re talking to someone,” Namjoon said with baited breath, “You've gotta be on your best behavior.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m holding myself back. If I wanted to go out, I would.”

He’s being honest. You’re not keeping him from anything and it’s not like he was forcing himself to be someone he’s not but this wasn’t that serious. Yes, he had a tendency to go out with his friends every weekend and lately that’s declined but it’s not because of you necessarily. He’s just realized he’s way too exhausted these days to exert this much energy on a night he would regret by morning. He made terrible decisions and he’s tired of getting himself in trouble because of them.

“Just say the word and we can leave whenever you want,” Jungkook spoke into your ear as you looked around at everyone surrounding you. It was loud and packed with people in costumes, all looking to spend a fun night out celebrating Halloween. You’ll admit, it’s a bit out of your element but you’ll learn to adapt. It will just take some adjustment but the energy seems high and it might be more fun than staying at the shop to hand out candy all night.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, letting him place a hand on your lower back to lead you to the bar. Tonight was the first time you’ll be meeting Jungkook’s friend but you don’t feel nervous. If anything, he seemed more nervous than you and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Since your first date the two of you have really leveled up whatever has been brewing between you since the night you met.

You’ve been spending more time together but it usually consists of Jungkook visiting you or texting all day. You haven’t had a chance to see more of him yet— as it feels like he’s been trying to accommodate you—so you’re curious to see how the night plays out with him and his friends.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” A loud voice boomed from the bar where you could see a familiar face smile at you. Hoseok waved happily at you as Jungkook led you to him and the others who watched you curiously. Hoseok ditched the hockey player costume for simple skull makeup and a leather jacket.

“There was a line to get in,” Jungkook admitted, slipping his hand in yours and pulling you forward, “What do you want to drink?”

“Surprise me,” you said with a smile. Jungkook ordered something on your behalf before turning to his other friends, “Everyone this is Y/n.”

“Jungkook didn’t do you any justice,” Taehyung said with a curious tilt of his head, “You’re way prettier than he said.”

“Oh no, what else has he said about me?” You asked with a soft tone that had both Taehyung and Namjoon blinking in surprise.

“Um, well…. A lot of things, neither one of them have shut up since they met you,” Namjoon confessed, looking to Hoseok who seemed to also think highly of you.

“Yes, I think Y/n put a spell on me,” Jungkook teased, handing you a bluish lavender drink and sending you a wink. He, of course, still felt nervous considering this is the first time he’s introducing you to his friends. It’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything but he’s definitely worried about what his friends would say to you. Not that long ago, Taehyung tried getting Jungkook to lie to you just because he didn’t care for how serious Jungkook felt about you. Now, Taehyung is here talking to you and Jungkook is worried he might say something he shouldn't.

Honestly, when the night started he didn’t expect you to want to come out. Namjoon had been bugging him all day about it and he had full intentions of not going out so he could spend the night handing out candy with you but… It’s like you have a sixth sense and when you asked him if he had any other plans, he told you what he was invited to and asked you to come along. He full heartedly thought you would say no because you don’t seem like the type to come out drinking but for some reason you agreed and he was happy with that.

Of course he was nervous to introduce you to the others but when he looked over at you and found you smiling softly, trying your hardest to be in the moment, he was grateful. His friends didn’t talk bad about him to you despite the occasional teasing and you didn’t seem uncomfortable by it. Every now and then he would run his thumb against your hip to remind you he’s there but mostly, he just listened.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” you said after a while. Taehyung had asked you question after question about the shop or the spell jar you made Hoseok and you indulged him in it all.

“Hm?” Jungkook fixed the tilt in your witch’s hat, “I’m just listening.”

“Are you having fun?” You asked letting his arm encircle your waist until you faced him. He looked at his friends who managed to grab the attention of some girls nearby and were in deep conversation with them.

His shoulders lifted in a shrug, “It’s alright.”

Your nose scrunched up in thought as you looked away from him, he kept you close trying to get you to look back at him, “I mean… yeah it’s fun but it’s loud and hot and… I don’t know, I kinda want it to just be us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah, my friends have been talking to you all night,” he said it like it was a secret, “And Joon said he wanted me here so I came but now I’m really in the mood for us to leave—unless you want to stay.”

“Are you trying to ditch out on us?” Hoseok put an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into his side, “You barely come out anymore and now you’ve got Y/n here so there’s no reason to not want to party. It’s Halloween!”

“I know, but,” Jungkook played with his lip ring as he smiled lazily, “You’ve been taking all of my girl’s attention and I’m tired of sharing.”

The words slipped out but he didn’t regret them, even when you looked up at him curiously. He expected some sort of response from you but you merely smiled and shrugged like you weren’t apart of this exchange so when Namjoon asked what was up, Jungkook was honest.

“I think we’re calling it a night,” he had your hand in his, pulling into him as he looked at his friends and whatever girls they were with, “But you guys have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked, looking at you, “Y/n, you don’t want to go to another bar?”

Jungkook released a small sigh as he looked down at you. He would love to leave but if you wanted to stay and maybe go to a few more places before ending the night… he’d do it but only because it’s what you want.

“I miss my cat,” you said it so casually that the others couldn’t understand it as an answer at first until you were waving goodbye, happy you met them but ready to go.

You didn’t talk much in the car and Jungkook drove carefully taking you back to the shop that was connected to your home. He’s not sure if you were tired or distracted but you stared out the window chasing the moon through the city. At one point he glanced over and found you nipping at your bottom lip with worry but he tried not to overthink it. The night had been good and you got along with his friends so there wasn’t anything he would change but the silence made him worry.

The car pulled up in front of the lantern lit shop and he looked at you with nerves waiting to see how you would Halloween. It was late but there were still a few people in costumes wandering around and too early to really call it a night. You silently pushed open the door, ready to leave when you sighed, “Jungkook.”

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he’s listening and you turned to him, “Earlier you called me—“

My girl.

“I know,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I just meant… I—I don’t know. Was it corny?”

A small laugh left your lips at his sudden question and decided to tease, “Just a little.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was trying to sound cool and…”

“Failed?”

“Whoa,” he held a hand to his chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.” The car was still on but he made no move to leave and neither did you. Instead, he just looked at you sitting half in his car with the door open, “You didn’t like it?”

“Um, it’s not that but,” you bit your lip in thought, “I’m just worried of your intentions.”

“With you?” He asked quietly, watching you nod your head shyly and he sighed, “You don’t know if it’s worth it.”

It sounded like a statement and he knew he was right. You were worried about the curse, he knew you well enough to know that but he doesn’t care. He wants to go out with you and some stupid age old curse isn’t going to change his mind. He understands that you believe it so he won’t look down on it but he wants to be with you.

“What if I said it was?” Jungkook asked with genuine curiosity, “It’d be the first time I get cursed by a witch.”

He meant the last part as a joke and it got you to smile so he was more comfortable to tease, “Maybe I’ll turn into a cat so Coal and I could be friends.”

“He doesn’t like having friends,” You said with a smile and he could practically see your walls crumble so he kept going.

“That’s a shame because I have a dog and he’s the friendliest boy you’ll ever meet,” Jungkook said with a defeated sigh.

“I’m warning you,” you said but he smiled. “I’ve been warned.”

“I won't be upset if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m a bit weird, yknow?” You seemed to ask, already beginning to warm up to the idea and it was enough to give him hope.

“I would have never guessed,” he said as he twisted a silver star charm you had styled in your hair, leaning closer and closer till his face was only a couple centimeters away, “And if you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working—I can wake up with a bald head of hair tomorrow and I’ll be fine with it as long as I get to talk to you again.”

“So, do you want to come up then?” You asked and you didn’t have to say it twice for him to be powering off the engine so he could follow you inside.

For the first time ever, he disappeared behind the celestial tapestry that led up to your front door, trying to look around in the darkness. You liked rich shades of purple and blue. You liked stars and sheer drapes on your ceilings. You liked stain glass lamp shades and big soft rugs. Your house was like a whimsigoth cottage in the city and your bedroom was everything he imagined it to be even in the dark.

He expected you to turn the lights or something but instead you seemed to snap a finger before a couple candles lit up the bedroom and he was lost in wonder. It felt like he was enjoying a cozy night in the woods, like he just rested his head on your lap and listen to you read his palm.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you shoved a couple books aside and looked around the bedroom, “Is there anything I can get you.”

Jungkook shook his head, deciding to go through your vinyls with curiosity, smiling whenever he saw a vinyl with the word ‘witch’ in the title. You explained to him that it was all Jimin’s doing because he found it funny to buy you every vinyl with a Halloween or witchy vibe to it.

“Jungkook,” you called to his distracted mind and he lifted his eyes to you, the reflection from the lit candles in his gaze. You were standing by the edge of your bed, looking shy as you took off the witch’s hat. His lips parted with surprise, letting his feet take him to you until you were face to face and so close that his front brushed against yours. “Is this really something you want?”

He was the guy who had every girl he wanted. He would go to parties and make out with people he should. He would make bad decisions and regret them right after but this feels far from a bad decision. It’s the first time in a while that something felt right and it had to be you. There’s a reason why he’s been cleaning his act up, going to all his classes, showing up to work on time and ditching the nights out getting drunk.

Of course this was something he wanted.

He wanted you.

He had feelings for you.

You felt warm and he wanted to brush his fingers against your hair. Your touch was gentle but sudden as you ran a hand down the front of his chest, circling around his neck taking all his attention once more and he began to lean into you.

“Of course this is something I want,” he said just above a whisper, letting his hands touch down on your waist, unable to hold himself back any longer before he was pressing his lips to yours and kissing you effortlessly.

You tilted your head back, kissing him with equal hunger as he pulled you even closer until your bodies began to mold together into one before guiding you to lay back on your bed. Jungkook was gentle but firm, his hands felt rough but he touched you with such softness when he ran them down your sides. He didn’t hesitate to try and relish in the feeling of you under him, kissing along your neck and pressing his lips to your pulse point until he could feel your breath hitch in your throat.

You’re not a virgin but you’re not entirely experienced and yet you couldn’t find it in you to be nervous. Not even when his hands began to hitch up your black dress making you raise your hips enough for him to pull it up. Jungkook never once pulled his lips away from your skin, the desire to leave love bites was too strong and you were so soft underneath him. You looked up at your dark ceiling with its silver stars plastered all over and a handing moon lantern at the center, letting him kiss down your chest and navel.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook asked with genuine concern as he laid between your parted legs. The skirt of your dress had been pulled up to your stomach exposing the black underwear you wore, feeling his gentle fingers run against your hips patiently. A smile came to your face when he rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you lovingly and you nodded your head.

Jungkook pressed a kiss to your inner thighs, nose brushing against the sensitive areas as his nimble fingers began to brush along the thin black fabric, not yet touching you directly but feeling the outline of what was underneath. He could almost feel it all, the curve of your mound down to the slit where he pushed his thumb against until he could make out your entrance and feel the way you seemed to gasp when he teased you.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep in the surprised yelp from the way he began to pull your underwear down, moving to kiss whatever he exposed, not shying away from being more intimate. He raised your leg, sliding the cloth off before placing soft kisses against your calf and thigh, leading your legs over his shoulders before he laid back down and looked at what was between them. You felt like running away from how focused he seemed on your heat, almost asked him why until he was leaning down, tongue coming out to swipe against your hooded clit teasingly.

The bed was lush with pillows, using them to sink your head into when he did it again, this time more firm and intentional. You’ll admit, it’s been a while since you last had gotten intimate with someone so you couldn’t help but squirm when his tongue became more languid in its movements, separating your folds with the tip of it and letting his lips tug on the pulled skin. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fingers pinch your thighs to keep you still while he circled your hardening clit with the tip of his tongue before kissing your labia and licking up whatever slick you released.

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but let out when he pressed his tongue against your entrance, nose pushing against your clit and just letting himself be completely engulfed by your essence. You could practically feel him smile against your core when he tilted his head to the side to tug your labia softly between his lips before letting it go and repeating the action.

When your hand found his hair, he seemed to pause wondering if you wanted him to stop, but then he felt a tug and he was helplessly following after you until you kissed, neither caring if there was the taste of you on his tongue. A low groan bubbled up in his throat that slipped through your lips when your tongue licked along his like you didn’t care he had just been kissing your soaked pussy and that made him unbelievably hard.

Jungkook moved a hand down to your legs, finding its way to your wet cunt, gently pressing into the puddle of slick at your entrance before moving up to your clit and rubbing it between his fingers. Your hands were in his hair, tugging softly whenever he did something you liked and with his tongue down your throat, he didn’t hesitate to tease your entrance with his middle finger, already feeling how tight your walls are when he began to press inside. Your mouth slipped open in pleasure as he thrusted a long finger into your cunt, palm flat against your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with his finger that soon became two, “You’re so wet, Angel.”

His fingers were completely soaked and anytime he pulled out his fingers to push them back in, he could practically feel the puddle around them and it made his dick throb in his pants. Your kissing came to an end when Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the need to disappear between your legs again, a bit annoyed that the fabric of your dress was in the way but pulled away anyway.

You arched your back off the bed in pleasure when his mouth found your clit again, paying his full attention back on it instead of his fingers which never relented on pumping in and out of you with such vigor that your legs began to shake, “Jungkook.”

“Hm?” He moaned, teeth lightly tugging on your folds and watching them go back until he licked against them to do it again.

“Are you close, Angel?” Jungkook asks with an unusually hoarse voice when you start to clench around his fingers, “Go ahead, let go for me.”

Your face hot and your chest heaving at the intensity just as it hits you and you’re cumming with a whimper that you try and hide behind a closed fist when his tongue eagerly licks up your release as it flows out and around his fingers. It took him a while to stop, only when he felt your thighs tremble did he pull away, some of your release coating his lips and piercings that he hungrily licked clean. A curse left his lips breathlessly as he sat back on his knees and looked down to see the way your pussy was flooded in slick.

You sat up once you had caught your breath, moving closer as he stared at his coated fingers curiously and without thinking, you took his hand by the wrist and brought his fingers toward your mouth. He watched you lick the space between them before bringing them into your mouth and sucking your essence clean off them.

“Fuck, Y/n,” his eyes fell shut as he let himself sink into the feeling of his fingers being sucked into your warm mouth and it was so hot in this bedroom. He pressed his thumb against your cheek as he attempted to take his fingers out of your mouth so he could use two hands to undress finally and you let him do just that. You bit into your bottom lip when he took his shirt off exposing more tattoos and muscle you had never seen but knew was there.

He looked at you as he undid his jeans, kicking them off along with his briefs exposing his hard cock that pointed straight with need that had him wincing at even the slightest touch of his hand against his tip. You quickly pulled on your dress, proving Jungkook’s earlier thoughts right when he questioned if you wore a bra or not—the answer was not—and it led him straight back to you. He kissed down your collarbone, hands on your hips as laid down between your legs, cock against your core causing him to moan out when he raised a hand knead your breast.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered in realization as he looked down at the way his slick began to tease your clit. Of course he wanted to continue but he doesn’t have any protection and it’s up to you what you want to do.

Your hands roamed against his back, “Jungkook.”

He looked up at you, lip pulled between his teeth when he felt your hand disappear between your pressed bodies until it circled around his stiff member making him bite back a groan of pleasure. You gave him a few strokes, guiding him down until his tip slipped into your slick and he looked at you with want when you said, “Just fuck me.”

It was all he needed to let himself sink into your entrance, a low moan leaving his lips as he felt his cock open your walls to adjust to his size. He didn’t stop pushing until he was all in, waiting there and feeling your breath grow more impatient as you got used to the feel of him.

He took things nice and slow, still concerned that you might want to end things any second, hoping you began to feel easy how good it felt when he rolled his hips, pushing more of his cock into you when you tightened.

“Fuck…” Jungkook couldn’t stop from cursing as pleasure took over his instincts. His body perfectly molded against yours with no space between them as he only used his hips to fuck you, “So good.”

Although he’s ashamed, he’ll admit that he has had his fair share of sexual intercourse but he can’t remember the last time he felt this good. His body felt like it was moving on its own accord, seeking its own pleasure with yours and he was so close. He kissed along your neck when you tipped your head back, lips parted with the force of his hips pushing himself deeper in a steady, but rough thrust of his cock.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as he practically hugged you to him with each thrust and he knew you were as close as he was to release. He brought a hand up your side until he was cupping a breast in his palm, kneading the soft flesh and rubbing his fingertip against your nipple watching the way your jaw seemed to drop in warning that you were close. Despite his hair being much shorter than it used to be, it still fell forward and over his eyes looking sweaty.

“You feel so good, Angel” he grunts, talking you both through orgasm. It was true, although he was doing all of the work, every little moan he pulled out of you mixed with the feel of your body against his felt so damn good. It made all this patience he had when it came to you worth it.

When Jungkook knew you were just over the edge, he brought his hand down, barely pressing it into your clit when he felt your walls tighten, a growl leaving his lips at how you sucked his cock in until finally, the tension broke and he felt himself flood with your release. He dug his face into your neck, shaking slightly as he bit back his own orgasm until yours subdued and he carefully guided his dick back out. Once the air hit his exposed, soaked member, everything broke loose.

You had taken him in your hand, stroking him through release and costing your thigh in his cum, listening to his string of moans and groans of pleasure with a gentleness he’s not sure he’s ever felt.

It took you both a while to regain some awareness and were ashamed to admit it was Coal’s persistent meowing on the other side of the bedroom door. Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh as he let himself collapse down on your bed next to you, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest as he saw stars—literally, littered across your ceiling. His hand searched endlessly for some sign of you, taking a lock of your hair and twisting it around his finger when you moved to sit up, hands covering your exposed intimates almost shyly. He raised a curious brow, sitting up on his elbow as he looked at the mess the two of you had made.

“You okay?” He asked with concern. The candles lit around the room reflected a soft glow off your skin and you looked as ethereal and whimsical as he thought that first night.

“Yes,” you said quietly, “I think I need a shower, though.”

He smiled, “So let’s take one.”

The next morning you found him sitting at the wooden counter of the shop.

“What are you reading?” You asked Jungkook as he had a book open, studying it carefully.

“Natural contraceptives,” Jungkook mumbled as he wrote down the names of various herbs on an old napkin, “I should have been more prepared last nigh—Do you have Black Cohosh or Angelica by chance? I heard if you drink it in a tea, it should help promote menstrua—“

Your hand covers his mouth when you felt the tall tale signs of your best friend approaching. Even before Jimin opened the door to the shop, he had a shit eating grin at the sight of you two, and not caring much for secrecy as he waved a finger to turn the sign to ‘OPEN’.

“So what did the two of you get up to last night?” He asked casually, trying to peak at the book that you quickly slammed shut bringing an amused smile to Jungkook’s face.

“We went out for some drinks,” Jungkook answered, standing up with an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’m going to start boiling water.”

It was strangely comical and endearing the way he acted and Jimin watched the way your gaze followed after him.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to cast a love spell to bring that look into your eyes.”

On the night of November 1st, outside during a crescent moon, Jungkook asked if you could be his girlfriend sounding strangely shy that you couldn’t say no.

::.

omg this took me forever but I finally got out a little Halloween fic and I’ve actually done a softer, cuter oc than usual? woahhh who am I. also my bday is this Sunday [oct 29] and I just think I’m so special I gotta let yall know

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin n @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[lord-of-the-prompts]

DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:

Body

descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.

Eyebrows

descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.

shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.

Ears

shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.

Eyes

colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).

descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.

positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.

Face

descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.

shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.

Facial Hair

beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.

clean-shaven

moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.

sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.

Hair

colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).

descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.

length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.

type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.

Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.

Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.

Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.

Lips/Mouth

colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)

descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.

shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.

Nose

descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.

shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.

Skin

descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.

complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Cat color genes masterpost

I copied all my descriptions from the cat color gene tournament here, with pictures and all. I often type out the genotypes, so this is a guide to what each letter means. Under the cut because it's very long.

Disclaimer: Sometimes I don't use the most common designations of a gene or an allele, and I'd like to apologize to everyone who's bothered by this. I have a very good reason for it: I like it better my way.

Genetics guide

Agouti (agouti signaling protein gene, ASIP): this gene determines whether the individual hairs will be banded or not.

dominant allele: A - banded hairs, tabby cat (wild type)

recessive allele: a - no bands, solid cat (variant)

A_ means if there's already an A allele, the other one can be either A or a.

A homozygous recessive cat with wild type alleles on every other gene will be solid black. Combined with other allele variants the a allele can produce other solid colors, different types of smokes and several more.

Actually there are more "secret" alleles for this gene: the agouti alleles of the asian leopard cat and other wild feline species. In certain hybrid breeds, most notably bengals, there's even a special coloration called charcoal born from the combination of the domestic cat's solid and the asian leopard cat's agouti allele.

Ticked (dickkopf wnt signaling pathway inhibitor 4, DKK4): this gene determines if there is any full-colored hairs, or only banded.

dominant allele(s - researchers found at least two): Ti - only banded hairs, ticked tabby cat (variant)

recessive allele: ti - some hairs don't have bands, "patterned" tabby cat (wild type)

If this is the only gene with variant allele, we'll have a black ticked tabby [black tabbies are also called brown, and other, mostly breed-specific names]. Ticked tabbies are possible in every color.

Nonagouti covers up the tickedness (this is called recessive epistasis): we won't see what a solid cat's genotype is on this gene. (Except when other genes make it possible. But that's biology for you.)

Spotted (?): this hypothetic gene can break up the tabby pattern's stripes into spots.

dominant allele: Sp - spotted tabby cat (variant)

recessive allele: sp - striped tabby cat (wild type)

Alone the Sp allele makes a black (brown ect) spotted tabby cat; of course, in combinations with other variant alleles, it can produce a wide variety of different colored spotted tabbies.

Both a and Ti covers up the spotted gene: its effect normally only visible on a cat with the A_ titi genotype.

Mackerel [i use the name mackerel since every other gene here is named after the dominant allele] (transmembrane aminopeptidase Q, Taqpep): this gene determines the type of the tabby pattern.

Blotched and classic are synonym terms.

dominant allele: TMc - narrow vertical lines, mackerel tabby cat (wild type)

recessive allele: tbl - wide, swirling lines, blotched or classic tabby cat (variant)

If every other gene is wild type except this, we'll have a black blotched tabby cat, but of course the tbl allele can produce lots of different colored classic tabbies.

All of the previously mentioned genes are able to nullify the effect of this one, so a mackerel or a blotched tabby must have A_ titi spsp genotype.

Additional annoyed remark: Despite the name, the so-called classic pattern is actually both the newer and the less common worldwide. My only guess for why it's named like that: it's the more common one in England. Well, thanks. (That's why I actually prefer the name blotched over classic.)

Brown (tyrosinase-related protein-1, TYRP1): this gene determines the quantity of the functional eumelanin.

dominant allele: B - full pigment production, black cat (wild type)

"middle" allele: b - less pigment, chocolate cat (variant)

recessive allele: bl- even less pigment, cinnamon cat (variant)

Order of dominance: B > b > bl

If every other allele is wild type except this, we'll have a chocolate or cinnamon mackerel tabby cat. (On the picture the cinnamon cat is spotted rather than striped, because i couldn't find a decent mackerel. So sad.) Chocolate and cinnamon cats are possible in every pattern.

Dilute (melanophilin, MLPH): this gene determines the distribution of the pigments.

dominant allele: D - even pigment distribution, dark cat (wild type)

recessive allele: d - clumped, uneven pigment distribution, diluted cat (variant)

black -> blue

chocolate -> lilac

cinnamon -> fawn

In these pictures the difference isn't that striking between the black and the blue mackerel tabby, but if you look up at the header, in solid cats it's much more pronounced.

For further comparison of undiluted and diluted color pairs on one picture (to eliminate differences in lightening):

black vs blue and red vs cream

Every possible color and pattern can be diluted (with the only exception of white).

Orange (?): this yet unidentified gene determines the type of the most prominent pigment: eumelanin on pheomelanin.

allele: O - mainly pheomelanin, red-based cat (variant)

allele: o - mainly eumelanin, black-based cat (wild type)

This gene is special in two related ways: first, it's located on the X chromosome, which means tomcats only have one allele; second, the alleles are codominant - if a cat carries both of them, it'll show both phenotypes: this is how we get tortoiseshell cats. This explains why almost all tortoiseshell cats are females - every tortie needs two different X chromosomes.

Combined with other variant alleles every possible color and pattern can occure as tortoiseshell, but the O allele is epistatic over a lot of genes: for example agouti (the phenotype of every orange cat is tabby, even the genetically solid ones) and brown (since eumelanin is mostly absent thus can't change - the genotypes OO B_, OO b_and OO blbl all mean red cat).

The dilute version of red is called cream.

The dilution level is always the same in the colors of a tortoiseshell: the undiluted black, chocolate and cinnamon is paired with red, the diluted blue, lilac and fawn are paired with cream.

White (receptor tyrosine kinase, KIT): this gene determines the size of the area the pigment producing cells (the melanocytes) reach.

dominant allele: W - basically no melanocytes, white cat (variant)

allele(s): ws - limited area is covered, white-spotted cat (variant)

allele: w - all of the body is covered by the melanocytes, full-colored cat (wild type)

recessive allele: wg - only the paws remain white, gloved cat (variant)

Order of dominance: W > ws = w > wg

Since the gloving allele is kind of specific to the breed, I used a birman cat to illustrate it.

Lots of alleles here! Actually I'm not sure what's the most accepted opinion about them, but since these variant are all mapped to KIT, I considered them alleles.

If every other gene shows the wild type except for this, we'll have a white, or a white-spotted black mackerel tabby cat, but thanks to the ws allele(s) every color and pattern can be combined with white patches. However, the W allele is epistatic over every other gene: if a cat has one or two copies of W, it will be white regardless everything else.

ws is interesting: it has an additive effect, a cat with the wsws genotype will have more white than a cat with only one copy of it.

wg is fully recessive: the gloved phenotype only present if the cat's genotype is wgwg.

Color restriction (tyrosinase, TYR): mutations on this gene will result in temperature-sensitivity in the pigment production, the cats will be lighter on the warm and darker on the cooler areas of their bodies.

dominant allele: C - regular pigment production, full colored cat (wild type)

allele: cb - moderately reduced pigment production: burmese color restriction, sepia cat (variant)

allele: cm - reduced pigment production, bangkok color restriction, mocha cat (variant)

allele: cs - highly reduced pigment production: siamese color restriction, pointed cat (variant)

recessive allele: c - no pigment production, albino cat (variant)

Dominance order: C > cb = cm = cs > c

Now this group is a lot. Not only five different alleles (mocha was found relatively recently in Thailand), but the middle three are all intermediate with each other meaning that actually we have eight different phenotypes (illustration from messybeast; full color and albino are absent):

I used solid cats for illustration, because in the thai breed (the cats i used belong to this) they are often preferred over tabbies, so it's easier to find pictures; also, it's much more simple to compare them.

(Photos from The Thai Cat Center and Bangkok Mocha Cat, and Pangur from @pangur-and-grim as an albino cat)

Please note that all of these varieties are very changeable; the pictures (especially those of the heterozygotes) are far from representing all cats carrying the respective genotypes.

Alone these variants makes some type of a black (seal) mackerel tabby point cat, but every type of color restriction can occure together with all possible colors and patterns.

***The color restriction gene won the Cat Color Gene Tournament!***

Inhibitor (?): this unidentified gene reduces the pheomelanin production, thus removes the warm tones of the fur (the hairs have white-black banding instead of yellow-black).

dominant allele: I - reduced pheomelanin, cooler toned cat (variant)

recessive allele: i - normal pheomelanin, warmer toned cat (wild type)

If every other allele is wild type except for this, we'll have a black silver mackerel tabby cat. Combined with other alleles it can produce lots of different silver (tabby) and smoke (solid) varieties.

Wide band (?): This hypothetic gene makes the yellow bands on the agouti hairs wider, resulting in a lighter, yellowish pelt. Based on the width of the pale bands we can differentiate between golden (middle band width) and shaded (maximal band width, color is pushed up into the tip).

dominant allele: Wb - reduced area of eumelanin, warmer toned cat (variant)

recessive allele: wb - normal area of eumelanin, cooler toned cat (wild type)

Golden is quite a mess; right now there is one identified gene (found first in siberians), but persians and many more breeds must have different gene(s), based on the interaction with the inhibitor gene (siberian golden + silver = bimetallic, persian golden + silver = silver shaded or chinchilla), and the inheritance patterns (the siberian alleles are recessive, while persian golden appears to be dominant). Since lots of breeds allow golden, and sometimes it can be found even in stray cats, I say who knows what genes and alleles are out there! This is all a hardly understood, very exciting and currently researched area.

If every other gene stays wild type except for this, we'll have a black golden mackerel tabby or a black golden shaded cat. Combined with other alleles it can produce lots of different golden and silver varieties.

Low-grade white (?): Again, hypothetic gene(s). Even with the extreme variability of the white spotting allele(s), the existence of some independently inherited genes is strongly suspected. Their effects most commonly manifest as a white locket: a small white patch on the chest or the belly, and/or a white tail tip. I'm not sure if there is any consensus whether these are more likely to be recessive or dominant alleles.

Dilute modifier (?): This unidentified gene changes the color of a diluted cat, the coloration becomes more brownish.

dominant allele: Dm - (variant)

recessive allele: dm - (wild type)

blue, lilac, fawn -> caramel

cream -> apricot

I put here a cat in all three diluted colors to compare them with the caramel tabby. It's hard to spot the differences, isn't it?

Since this is a dilute modifier, the D allele covers it, and we can only see its effect on cats with dd genotype.

It can be found only in a few breeds: orientals (including related breeds), burmese, different rexes. To our current knowledge, of course.

Extension (melanocortin 1 receptor, MC1R): This gene replaces eumelanin with pheomelanin resulting in a yellowish or reddish furred cat. The change often happens gradually during the first years of the cat's life.

dominant allele: E - eumelanin remains, black adjacent cat (wild type)

recessive alleles: e, er, ec - pheomelanin takes over, yellow/red adjacent cat: amber, russet or serdolik (variant)

All three recessive variants are new mutations found recently in different breeds: the color amber in the 1990s in norwegian forest cats, the color russet in 2007 in burmese, and the color carnelian or serdolik in 2018 in kurilian bobtails (at least that's the first mention). We don't know anything about their interactions, or their effects on cats outside of their respective breeds.

The gene only effects eumelanin, so the O allele is epistatic over the it. However, because of the properties of the overpowering pheomelanin, every e allele is epistatic over agouti, so the tabby patterns will show up on aa cats as well.

Wide band (serine peptidase, CORIN): This hypothetic gene makes the yellow bands on the agouti hairs wider, resulting in a lighter, yellowish pelt.

dominant allele: Wb - eumelanin on normal sized area, darker cat (wild type)

recessive alleles: wbSIB, wbeSIB, wbBRI - eumelanin on reduced area, lighter cat (variant)

Ohhh, citizens of tumblr, we're really in it now. So. In the moment, we have, I believe, three mutations found on this gene: the sunshine (wbSIB) and extreme sunshine (wbeSIB) in the siberian breed, and the copper (wbBRI) in british cats. (I only show the sunshine and the copper here.) The novelty of these mutations means that the breeders still often call them simply golden instead of the new names, so it's difficult to find reliable data. Further complicating the situation, most likely both breeds have more wide band gene(s) beyond CORIN, and especially the copper cat above is the result of the combination of several wb genes.

Karpati (?): This unidentified gene makes the extremeties (face, ears, legs, tail) white kinda like a reverse colorpoint cat, and causes a roaning effect: scatters white hairs everywhere on the body.

dominant allele: K - whited extremities, karpati cat (variant)

recessive alleles: k - normal pigmant production, full colored cat (wild type)

Karpati seems to show intermediate inheritance with significantly more white on a homozygous then a heterozygote cat. This gene is studied for a very short time, and mostly on heterozygotes since they are much more common. The cats appearence changes during their life and also with the seasons: they born very similar to a fever coated kitten but with white ears, then to the end of their first year they almost completely lose the white (at least the heterozygous cats - the homozygotes become darker but still keep strange white patterns), then slowly gain it back as they age.

The karpati mutation is present in the stray cat population in middle-east Europe (including Hungary where I live, wahoo! and indeed, I can regularly see one or two karpaties in facebook adoptions groups and such). It's also introduced to some established breeds (LaPerm, Sphynx ect) and the creation of its own breed also began under the Transylvanian name.

[colormepurplex2]

Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

[seratopia]

hobie brown x reader (fluff) - eyeliner → she/her pronouns!

hobie loves asking you to do eye makeup for him

"Sweets! C'mere for a sec!"

Your ears perk up when you hear Hobie from the other room, amidst slathering on a moisturizer onto your face.

"Hold on! I'm doing skincare!" You exclaim, hoping he heard you.

"C'mon already!" Hobie yells, and you fight every urge to roll your eyes as you rub in the last bit of your face lotion.

"Okay, okay!"

Hobie smirks when you dip into his bedroom, reaching out his hands to beckon you closer. The fluffy lounge set you're in makes him want to handle you more, his fingers subconsciously drawing in towards you.

You stick out like a sore thumb against the different shades of black in his room, studded belts and punk magazines scattered on the ground. Lazily, he's seated on the edge of his bed, his worn-out guitar sprawled across his charcoal-black sheets.

Those silver-ringed hands slip onto the curves of your waist, snaking their way up your back to tug you closer to him. You almost shiver at the feeling of so much metal. Cockily, he stares at your face, cheekily dragging you so that his face his a hair close to your chest.

"What is it, Hobie?" You ask, smoothing your fingers through his kinky hair. Hobie likes it when you trace your thumb over all of his piercings.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Hobie pulls out an eyeliner pen, flipping it smoothly through his fingers. Hobie chuckles a little, squeezing at the fat of your sides. There's a glint in his eye; excitement.

"Y'always talk about puttin' makeup on me, so I'm givin' you a try."

Hobie's smirk widens when he sees you light up in excitement, allowing you to slip the eyeliner pen from his fingers.

"Right now?" You ask, and Hobie squeezes you. He nods, shoving his face right up at you to emphasize.

"Do an edgy look for me, yeah? Don't be afraid t'smudge it a li'l."

So, while Hobie sits at the edge of his bed, he indulgently allows himself to wrap his arms around you, tilting his head upwards so you can paint on the makeup properly. You're parked right in the gap between his legs, closing in the little distance you have with Hobie to perfect the look.

While you stand there, bracing Hobie's face with one hand, he just takes it upon himself to stare at your concentrated expression. He hates to admit but he loves the close proximity.

"Hobie, you gotta close your eyes for me to do it."

The boy shuts his eyes closed, flinching just the tiniest bit when the tip of the pen first meets his skin. You build up a fine line at the outer corner of his eyelid, making it an effort to upturn the wing just the slightest bit.

For the last part, you draw a somewhat messy line underneath his lower lash line, smearing black onto only the outer side. Taking your finger, you smudge the black while its still wet, blurring out the line until whats left under his eye looks like black shadow.

Hobie resists every urge to open his eyes, every nerve screaming at him to keep them shut. For now, he makes due with what he can, squishing a little too close to your butt, or running his thumbs over where your rib cage is.

"I finished the first eye, wanna see?" You ask.

He opens his eyes back up, relishing the sigh of you until he has to close them again. You step away elsewhere to search for a good-sized mirror, and Hobie reluctantly lets go.

You come back with a hand mirror, and Hobie feels his eye itch just a little, probably from the eyeliner. You hand him the mirror, and it makes you a little nervous. At the end of the day, you just want him to like it.

You watch as Hobie examines the first eye, tilting his face from side to side with a smile forming on his mouth.

"Wow, y'did a nice job. I like the smudging right 'ere." Hobie explains, pointing his finger up to his under eye.

You smile, taking the mirror from his hand so you could continue the other eye.

"Y'know... I think I might ask'ya to do this more often." Hobie says, mindlessly tapping his fingers against your back. The way you handle his face almost makes him melt.

"You're good at makeup."

You chuckle a little, swiping the pen away to press a gentle kiss to Hobie's forehead. The way he smiles is so cute, how you can feel his cheeks warm under your fingertips.

"If you wanted to be with me, you could'a just asked, Hobie." You giggle, gently poking the corner of his other eyelid with the pen.

"I'm serious!" Hobie laughs, his eyes still closed. "I look like Cooper, y'know who Cooper is?"

"The guy that gave you a spare guitar string?" You ask.

"Yeah, he's a good man, had this really wicked eyeliner on."

With a final swoop of your wrist you finish his other eye, your vision ping-ponging between the two wings to make sure they're symmetrical.

"Done!" And you hand Hobie the mirror again, intently watching his expressions. Again, he tilts his head from side to side, an impressed smile on his face. It looks really good on him, perfect for one of his shows.

"Wow, sweets, this is really sick. Bet I'd give Cooper a run for his money, yeah?" Hobie says, standing up from his bed. You giggle into his chest when he pulls you in, repaying you for the earlier kiss with one on the crown of your head.

"You think so?" You ask, and Hobie nods.

"Get dressed and I can take us to The Crown, bet Cooper's there havin' a drink or two." He cockily states, making you playfully roll your eyes. You're expecting him to show up Cooper, pridefully pointing to his eyes to say, "Yeah, my girl did that."

"I'd like that." You say, untangling yourself from Hobie to search for something on the floor to wear. You leave some of your clothes in his room anyway. He lets go of you, watching you skim through his wardrobe.

"How 'bout that l'il dress, the short one you always like? We can match." Hobie suggests, placing his hands underneath his head and leaning back into his bed.

"It's all the way over at my flat." You reply, and Hobie springs back up, already pulling his spider mask out of his worn-out vest pocket.

"I can go get it, if you want."

"I think you want it more than I do, Hobie." You shrug, Hobie already a third of his way out the window.

"Be back in a sec!"

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 5)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4,069

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

“All I’m saying is that I think he’s pretty cute,” Feyre scoffs, defensively. 

Since you’d moved in, it seems as though your entire life revolves around the boys living next door.

While you’d finally gotten the sleep you deserved last night, something had felt…off. The other side of the wall was almost too quiet as you lay in the darkness, still awaiting sleep to take you in its hold, even though your body had been aching for sleep for so long. All night, there wasn’t a peep from the asshole sharing the wall. You knew it had to be Az living on the other side, there was no way in fucking hell that it wasn’t, but the lack of music blaring through the walls felt like a dream, almost.

You shoved the thoughts from your mind in the early hours of the morning, hastily getting ready for your day. Your first day of classes, and you wouldn’t let him ruin even that. Now, the sun shines brightly on you and Feyre as you walk to your first class of the day, Drawing 201.

You had made your schedules match up as much as they could. With Feyre being an art student as well, she had declared her major in oil painting, whereas you aren’t sure what medium you’d like to get into. All you know is that there’s something drawing you towards the arts, and thankfully, you still have time to take electives and try new classes to see if anything sticks.

The only classes you hadn’t been able to take together were your non-art related ones. Feyre seems to know exactly what her path is in life, minoring in business because she wants to open a gallery one day and figured having an understanding of what goes into owning her own business would be helpful. 

You, on the other hand, had opted for a creative writing class to fulfill that requirement for your college degree. It is a semester filled with imagination and artistry, searching for that missing piece of your soul, trying to find it along the way.

Feyre has her drawing pad tucked under an arm as she walks. Yours is held in a similar fashion, the obnoxiously large pad of paper bigger than your torso. Her golden-brown hair is tied back into a loose bun that she makes look effortless. If you were to try and recreate the same hairstyle, you’d look like a rat. She’s clad in a plain t-shirt and jeans, simple for the balmy weather, not wanting to wear something nicer only to have charcoal and paints splashed over it by the end of the day.

The two of you had been talking about your neighbors, having seen one of them driving off in his vintage car that somehow always seemed to be parked outside of the building. Its paint was red and rusted, metal rotting through. You weren’t even sure that the car was in running condition, but it gave a splutter of black smoke as he rolled away and you wondered if it would make it the few blocks down to campus. 

It was the last roommate, the one you don’t know the name of. He’s large and bulky, muscles seeming to nearly split the seams of any shirt he covered his torso with. The one who had seemed to be the least volatile, that is, until he shut the door in your face for the final time that dreadful night.

The building is old, but the classroom is spacious and drab. Concrete floors adorned with paint that hadn’t come off, dried clay chipping into dust, the room shared with many different classes working with many different mediums. The white walls brighten the room, the sun casting through the windows bouncing off of it and creating intriguing lighting to work with. Art horses are lined up in a circle, surrounding a mattress with a navy blue sheet spread across its lumpy surface. It smells of both paint and graphite, the scent comforting as a part of you settles, shoulders relaxing as you revel in it. 

Accustomed to the setup, you realize that you’re going to be jumping right into the class and will be drawing today. Last year, the most memorable moment in your first life drawing class ever was the oldest man you’ve ever seen being the nude model. Of course, that was the day that your professor had each student drawing a close-up of a specific part of the model’s body, and you’d so luckily gotten to draw his low-hanging, wrinkly balls. Lovely.

You shudder as the memory resurfaces, following Feyre to a seat. You drop your bag to the floor, setting up your own sketchpad, before pulling out the necessary materials you’ll be needing for class.

You roll your eyes in response to her statement. “I didn’t say they weren’t cute, I said that they’re assholes.” Despite your quiet night, you can’t help but wonder about Az, thinking about his brooding nature and stupidly charming face as you drifted off to sleep in the loud quiet of your room.

Students trickle in one by one. A group of girls stride in, laughing about something that happened at a bar over their weekend. Another girl follows, but it’s clear that she isn’t in their group. She’s pretty, with chic, ice blue  glasses perched on her button nose, her striking white hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

Your attention shifts to the boy that follows her in, and your jaw almost drops.

He’s handsome—no, he’s much more than that, you just can’t formulate the words twisting your thoughts and tongue into knots. Maybe after your creative writing class you’d be able to describe his sheer beauty. He has the most luxurious copper hair you’ve ever seen. It cascades across his broad shoulders, a braid on either side, caressing his face. He’s tall, too, an entire head—maybe even more—taller than the white-haired girl he’s bounding behind. His straight nose is flecked with freckles and his fox-shaped face is utterly devastating.

When his gaze finds yours, you feel as though you’re pinned to the art horse beneath you. He has one russet eye, and the other is golden. You want to commit it to memory, curse yourself for not bringing your colored pencils, stare right into those very eyes until you’ve gotten each stroke of his iris’ perfect. He’s mesmerizing, and the closer he moves, you start to make out the fine scar that slashes through that gold eye and his eyebrow above. It’s his only flaw, but only adds to his intimidating aura.

“Hi,” he greets, sliding into the empty seat next to you. You have to look up at him, even sitting, and something in your stomach stirs. “I’m Lucien.”

“(Y/N),” you respond numbly, thrown by his beauty. He’s wearing a loose button-up in the color moss, dark trousers, and even nicer shoes. He doesn’t look anything like an art student. Law, maybe. “Nice to meet you.”

You fumble with your art case as he holds out his hand for you to shake. Cheeks heating, you give him a bashful smile, sliding your hand into his. It’s warm, encapsulating the entirety of your own, and the longer your hand sits in his, the wider his pleasant smile becomes. “You as well,” he responds, then leans over to introduce himself to Feyre. With your back to him, you give her an ‘oh my gods, look how gorgeous he is’ look, and she responds with an elbow to your side, acknowledging that she sees just how gorgeous he is.

This year is determined to kill you, with all of the handsome men you’ve seen so far. Lucien maybe even more so, with how delightful he already is.

You can hardly even remember what you were conversing with Feyre about now that Lucien has entered the room. You couldn’t even remember if one of your neighbors waltzed right into the roo—

Fuck.

Of fucking course.

It’s the one roommate you don’t know the name of. The one who’d been driving away when you and your roommate left for campus this morning, waltzing into the room as if he owns the place.

His frame takes up the entire doorway, and you find yourself wondering if that’s his thing. Precious Azzy’s is being loud, Rhys’ is that forked tongue of his, and this one’s is filling any space with his massive body.

He enters the room with a swagger that has all of the girls swooning, carefree and confident. He oozes masculinity, barrel chested and tall. You didn’t know that he was in this class, though. When Rhys has said that they were juniors, you thought they’d be in the 300 classes, not 200s.

Now might be as good a time as ever to ask, though, because his hazel gaze sparks in recognition when he glances your way, and he beelines over to you. 

“Well, hello there ladies,” he greets with a seemingly genuine smile. He had been the nicest of the three when you and Feyre had almost knocked their door clean from its hinges, but he had also shut the door on you. Plus, with your not-so-great experiences with his roommates, your body is tense, prepared for the worst. “You’re taking this class?”

Feyre takes the bait on this one, and you’re well aware that Lucien is listening in, despite the fact that he’s pulled his satchel into his lap and is unloading his own supplies. “Yeah, it’s required for sophomores. Are you in it as well?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a sinful smile. Wolfish, almost. “You could say that.” You open your mouth to speak but he’s turning towards Lucien, smile broadening into something practically wicked, sticking his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Cassian, man. Nice to meet you.”

“Lucien,” he replies politely, though you don’t miss the slight grimace on his face when Cassian clenches his fingers in his own. You smother a laugh because Cassian looks like he could break all of the bones in Lucien’s hand with just a little more pressure if he wanted to.

The trifecta is complete. You finally have all three names, though you only know Az through his nicknames alone. Or maybe his name is Azzy. Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy all of the time. 

Whatever. You don’t care.

After introducing yourself and Feyre to Cassian, he leans in closer. He smells earthy, like freshly turned dirt and smoked wood. It reaches out to you like roots in the ground, and it’s refreshing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he starts, and you nearly recoil. You were expecting him to come in here with the arrogance his roommates seem to share, not this sincere politeness dripping from his words. His hazel eyes are earnest as you inspect him, his soft smile a touch guilty, if anything. “It’s just that I’ve got to side with my roommates. You can understand that, right?” 

“You don’t even know what he did,” you answer, trying not to grumble. Your brows are pinched and you watch Cassian take note of that. Az had been a complete prick for no reason, and that’s just not cool in your books.

Cassian winces, dropping back an inch or two. His voice is low, more of a whisper than you thought someone of his size would be able to make. “It’s not really my place to say, but Azriel had had a rough day. And no, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but you did threaten to tow his bike, and he doesn’t take that lightly. But hey, it had nothing really to do with me, so I’m willing to look past it if you are.” 

Azriel. Aa full name to a face and well, it kind of suits him. The angel of death. A shiver wracks your spine.

With that permanent scowl, he certainly looks the part.

And, this isn’t the apology you expected, but it’s a truce, a peace offering between neighbors. Maybe, if you accept, Cassian will be able to pass along the message of ‘shut the fuck up after midnight’ to Azriel.

You share a look with Feyre, contemplating. It seems as though she’s thinking similarly to you because she smiles up at Cassian, agreeing. “We’d love that.”

Cassian beams, straightening to his full height. Fuck, he’s huge. 

He looks as if he may say something more, but the professor enters the room and calls his name. He shoots you and Feyre a cheeky grin. “That’s me,” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll come get your numbers after class. Try not to enjoy it too much, ladies.” With a wink, he turns, gliding across the room with an ease someone built like a brick wall should have.

Your eyes follow him as he stalks towards the teacher, all grins and positivity. Maybe he isn’t like his broody, rude roommates. The teacher asks him something and he’s nodding along as if he’s done this before and is being reminded of what’s expected of him for this class. He roots around in the bag slung over his shoulder and pulls something out as he makes his way towards the door. Maybe he’s not enrolled in your class and only needed to speak to the professor?

“Welcome to Drawing 201,” the professor greets, clapping her hands together to gain the attention of the room. The murmurs soften as she speaks, students ready to have their talents molded by her intelligence. “My name is Ms. Woods, but you can call me Alis.”

You don’t miss Cassain slipping back into the room as Alis walks you through warm up exercises and best practices for the class. Your fingers are already coated with charcoal from where you’d roughly outlined shapes of Feyre’s body for warm ups. The curves on your paper become more and more fluid as you get into the familiar motions of drawing.

“What do you think he’s doing here?” you murmur to Feyre, still watching where Cassian is crouched low as if he wouldn’t be able to hear the professor from his full height. While you’re turned this way, you catch Lucien peeking at you over his shoulder for a fleeting moment, and before your gaze can snag his, he’s turning back to his own work.

Feyre shrugs, studying the lines of your face. “You don’t think he’s the—”

“This is Cassian,” Alis interrupts, stealing your attention from your roommate and your drawing. It’s nothing more than a mess of rough shapes, looking nothing like her at all, but you’re trusting the process. Only a minute's time isn’t long enough for more than that. 

Cassian is no longer wearing his loose jeans and tight t-shirt. Instead, he dons a thick, gray robe. The fabric doesn’t nearly drape far enough down, his gloriously tanned and muscular legs on full display, showing off an intricate tattoo from his knees, creeping up underneath the fabric. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, following the lines of muscle all the way up as Alis continues, “He’s going to be our model for the day.”

You’re not the only one who chokes at the news. Girls and guys alike are blushing in their seats, and Cassian can hardly contain the smug smirk threatening to split his face in two. He winks over at you and Feyre who share a wide-eyed look. Lucien scoffs lightly, and your jaw snaps shut, pink heating your cheeks as well.

You busy yourself by flipping to a new page in your pad. It’s crisp and white, not at all as interesting as you’re trying to make it seem as you avoid Cassian’s mirth-filled stare. You smooth the paper with your hand, and it’s shaking slightly with anticipation. Your new neighbor who’s just offered a truce, and you’re already going to be seeing him naked.

Would it have been weirder to be mad at him and stare at his naked form, or now, when a ceasefire has been declared and you’re somewhat on the road to becoming friends?

You don’t have the chance to think further on it because Cassian moves into the circle towards the lone mattress on the floor as Alis explains how the time spent in class is going to be divided. There will be a few three minute sketching sessions where you are to get down as much of his form as you can, while Cassian continuously changes poses. Following that, there will be two fifteen minute sessions, a break, and a final longer session where you’ll focus more on detail than form.

He slides out of his shoes, and you swallow roughly as he undoes the ties to his robe. Thankfully, he’s not looking at you, watching your intent gaze pinned to his tanned skin. The fabric slides from his broad shoulders, down, exposing the muscles of his back. The less fabric that shows, the more tattoos you see, covering both arms and licking across his chest. His waist pulls in tight and you have to bite your lip to hold back a noise in the completely silent room. Rippling muscles line his body, corded and thick in all of the right places. You can’t help it, staring unabashed because he’s turned away from you, your eyes falling from the inky whorls of tattoos across his shoulders, down through the cavern of the muscle lining his spine, all the way down to his tight ass.

All of the students are entrapped by his beauty, as if he’s aphrodite reincarnated. Two dimples poke in the base of his spine that you want to lean forward and dip your tongue into, but then he’s shifting a little and his cock is on full display.

The stick of charcoal in your fingers snaps in half.

You hope you get that facing you for the few hours you’ll be here.

Next to you, Lucien tuts under his breath, but even he can’t seem to look away from the Greek God standing before you.

Alis instructs Cassian into his first pose and then addresses the class. “Alright, your time begins now.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

You don’t know how you’re able to focus on anything other than the cock draped so prettily across his abdomen.

Cassian looks as relaxed as ever, splayed out across the blue sheet on the mattress, one arm tucked beneath his head, eyes shut, and breathing even as if he might have actually fallen asleep. 

With the late nights you know he and his roommates tend to have, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

You lose yourself in the quiet of the classroom, nothing but the sounds of long strokes or chalk against paper, the scratch of quick sharp lines being drawn. There’s the occasional murmur of advice or comments from Alis as she makes her rounds, weaving through students spread throughout the room.

Drawing the contours of his muscle is no easy feat. Packed layer upon layer from years or hard work spent in the gym, you rub the dark soot into your drawing pad. It’s calming, sweeping the charcoal over the white space to create shadows the lighting paints across his body.

His tattoos take some effort, even though Alis had said not to worry about those, that getting his form down was more important, but you can’t help yourself. You’ve always been interested in people’s tattoos and the stories behind them, the significance or lack thereof for some, despite having none of your own. You draw them with an extra care, trying your best not to make up reasons as to why he might have them. Now that you’re going to be on friendly terms, maybe you can ask him the meaning behind them yourself.

Eventually, Alis’ timer goes off, the ringtone the same as your phone, and for a fleeting moment your body reacts as if it’s your own alarm going off, a slight twist in your stomach as your body locks for a moment. You put down your chunk of charcoal as Cassian sits up, dusting your fingers off and admiring your drawing, comparing it to the model once more before he tugs on his robe.

Feyre stands to stretch, her back popping as she twists around. You wipe the soot from your hands on a cloth and grab your water bottle, the crisp water wetting your parched throat.

Lucien leans over, copper hair cascading over his shoulder and almost brushing your arm in the process. You wouldn’t mind, it looks silky smooth and the smell of his hair oil makes you want to lean in a little closer. He studies your work as you drink and eventually, with a smirk, says, “You have quite an eye for detail.”

You splutter and he bites his pink lip, trying to smother his smile. He gives you the most innocent look he can muster, but he doesn’t know that you have a retort on the tip of your tongue, just as soon as you stop choking.

“You sound a little bit jealous there, Lucien.”

Feyre laughs and he gapes dramatically, “Maybe, a little.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his antics, the rest of your classmates packing up around you. Cassian’s disappeared from the room already, probably in the restroom changing, and you wonder if he’ll be back for your number like he promised.

In the meantime, you pack your things away, stuffing your extra chalks of charcoal back into your case, along with your cloth and kneaded eraser. You feel confident in the work you’ve done today, so with a last glance at your drawing, you flip your pad shut, taking Feyre’s for her and walking with Lucien to stash them in the assigned drawer you and Feyre share.

“So, are you an art major?” you ask, waiting for the crowd around the shelves to dissipate a little.

He cuts you a suspicious look, but it’s playful. “You didn’t get a glimpse of my drawing, did you? I suppose I can’t blame you with a model looking like that, but it’s entirely awful,” he states, and you stare up at him in disbelief. 

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you argue, and his lips thin a little as he flips open his drawing pad just enough for only you to see. It’s difficult to hold in the laugh trying to burst from your throat. 

Lucien winces but a puff of laughter follows that makes your shoulders ease. “I told you it was shit, your face only confirmed it!”

There’s no coming back from this one, so you decide to play into it.

“Okay, it’s not great, but I’ve definitely seen worse. You should’ve seen my stuff from last year.”

Lucien rolls his eyes, stepping forward in line. “Oh, I’m sure it was nothing like the gorgeous drawing you’ve managed to pull out of your ass in two hours today,” he scoffs, and you elbow him in the arm gently. “Your drawing literally looks like a photograph!”

It doesn’t, but your cheeks heat at his compliment anyway. 

“I might’ve been doing this a little longer than you have,” you defend. Since you could hold a crayon, to be exact.

He huffs, stuffing his pad into a drawer and offering to help you with yours and Feyres. He pulls your drawer open and you slide the pads inside, stepping out of the way so others can crowd him as he closes up and follows you back to your seats. “Well, then you might have to help me out, because I thought that taking a few drawing classes would help me with my renderings for architecture, but those are all straight lines and circles and this is all curved lines and cock.”

You can’t help but laugh this time, leaning over your horse to pack away the rest of your supplies. Feyre’s all ready to go, face buried in her phone as she texts someone, fingers tapping quickly on the screen.

“You know, if you remove yourself from what you’re looking at, this is all just lines and circles too.”

Lucien slings his satchel over his shoulder, staring down at you with those mesmerizing eyes that shine when he speaks. “Would you want to explain that further sometime, over coffee perhaps?”

You’re a little shocked by his bluntness, but you grin and nod nonetheless. “I’d like that.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @vellichor01 @hirah-yummar @girl-who-writes-stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @konaanaria13 @emiler-love @yourdorkiness @azrielsstarlight

[sailorgoon13]

Theodore Nott

Basics:

Full Name: Theodore Nott

Nickname: Theo

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 4 November, 1979

Heritage: English/ Italian

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Blackthorn, Unicorn hair, 11 3/4", Slightly Flexible

Appearance:

Hair Color: Dark brown, a bit fluffy

Eye Color: Striking baby blue

Skin Tone: Olive

Height: 6'

Body Type: Lean and athletic. Tall, well proportioned

Style: Well-fitted jeans or chinos paired with a crisp button-down shirt or a cashmere sweater. Accessories are key to his look, with luxurious touches like leather loafers, silk scarves, and perhaps even a designer watch or cufflinks. His color palette leans towards darker tones like charcoal, navy, and deep burgundy

Features: Confidence, Mysterious aura, Sharp wit, Distinctive voice, Leadership

Personality:

Traits: Reserved, Loyal, Manipulative, Intelligent, Emotionally Complex

Likes: Privacy, Fine literature, Refines tastes, Debates, Chess

Dislikes: Arrogance, Lack of ambition, Betrayal

Hobbies: Quidditch, Reading, Playing Piano

Fears: Vulnerability, Rejection, Turning to the Darker side

Family and Friends:

Father: Mr. Nott

Valued Pure-Blood status

Supporter of Voldemort's cause/ Death Eater

Mother: Mrs. Nott

Died when Theo was young

Instilled his love for literature and fine art

Taught him Italian

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Special Abilities: His father taught him darker magic when he was young, though he doesn't like to use any of it. Particularly good at charms and hexes

Boggart: A memory of when he witnessed his mother dying

Patronus: Fox

Polyjuice: Would look velvety black with sparkling flecks of gold and silver. Smell like earthy Italian herbs and leather books with a hint of roses. It might taste like dark chocolate infused with hints of espresso and blackberry, with a subtle undertone of smoky oak and vanilla

Amortentia: Bergamont, Sandalwood, Freshly Brewed Coffee, Dark Chocolate

Backstory:

Theodore Nott was born into a prestigious pure-blood wizarding family, his childhood filled with the enchanting landscapes and rich cultural heritage of Italy. His mother, a talented witch with a passion for art, literature, and music, imparted upon him a love for the finer things in life. She taught him how to speak Italian, play the piano, and appreciate the beauty of the magical world around them.

However, Theodore's childhood took a tragic turn when his mother passed away, leaving him with a profound sense of loss. Compounding his grief was the revelation that his father, though also deeply devoted to his family, had been a follower of Voldemort. With Voldemort's downfall, Theo's father met his demise, leaving Theo with conflicting emotions and a sense of isolation.

Despite his father's past affiliations, he distanced himself from his family's dark legacy, choosing instead to honor his mother's memory by embracing the values she had instilled in him. He found comfort in the company of his friends, particularly during Christmas vacations and over the summer, when he would often stay with classmates Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, and Enzo Berkshire.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Theodore excelled academically and athletically, distinguishing himself as a talented and ambitious student. His keen intellect, strategic mind, and refined tastes set him apart from his peers, earning him both admiration and envy. Despite facing teasing and discrimination for his softer side and Italian accent, Theo remained resilient, drawing strength from the bonds of friendship that sustained him.

He discovered a passion for Quidditch, becoming the star keeper for the Slytherin team. With each dive and save, he felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration, leaving behind the weight of his worries and losses, if only for a moment.

Academics:

Best Subject: Charms

Favorite Subject: DADA (But he won't tell you its really Astronomy)

Favorite Professor: Flitwick

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: Slughorn

Student Life:

Academically excels in his studies, particularly in subjects like Potions and Charms

A regular fixture in the Hogwarts library, spending hours poring over ancient texts and refining his magical skills, teaching himself a new language, (Or really just hiding behind a romance novel)

Respected by his classmates for his intellect and admired for his cool demeanor, though some may find him enigmatic or intimidating.

He enjoys spending time in the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, honing his skills as Keeper

He also indulges in his love for art, literature, and music

Girls at Hogwarts are drawn to Nott's confidence, intelligence, and refined tastes, finding themselves mesmerized by his cool demeanor and mysterious aura

While he remains discreet about his romantic interests, there is no shortage of girls vying for his attention and affection.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

It's raining cats and dogs

My cat and dog hybrids, and random things about them! [Not proofread]

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

★ Brutus the german shepherd

He's a big boy alright. A startling 6'6 frame, but that doesn't stop him from acting like a little bastard. He's playful and cocky, a little protective but that's just in his instincts to protect his little herd! In his physical appearance, He's starting to grow out his buzz cut, a pair of German shepherd ears ontop. he's hoping to maybe dye a couple strands of hair blond once they're long enough. green eyes that stare into your soul, absolutely no thought process behind them

★ dolly the doberman

Everyone loves dolly. There used to be another doberman named Danny but they sent him to the pound when he bit both the farmer and his granddaughter. She used to have puppies with Danny but they didn't survive the winter, they got sick and passed the coming spring. She's a little rough around the edges but you'll love her too right? Don't let Brutus hog all the love! In her physical appearance, she has very short brown hair and a pair or doberman ears, with one of them being a little bit, ontop of her head. 5'7 with a deadly brown eyed stare.

★ bladviba the black Russian terrier

A messy mop of brown curls he calls hair sits atop his head. He's usually out in the fields observing the cattle, black eyes staring out Into the distance. The others say he used to be a fisherman's dog but then he had to find a new home since he passed away one night. Stoic and serious, he's secretly a 5'8 softie who wants to hide and cuddle you somewhere. But that bastard Brutus would probably find you in less than an hour.

★ molly the chow chow

molly may be the smallest out of all them, but that doesn't mean she won't let them do all the work. Usually she's trailing behind dolly, claiming that since their names are similar they have to stick close together. She has a short temper and a little brutish, but you'll get used to her. Spiky short brown hair, with dark black eyes that sparkle when she sees you. A 5'2 sweetheart- wait who gave molly a knife-

★ sweet pea the Samoyed

Sweet pea loves many things! You, bones, their house, sleep. Okay maybe not many things but atleast some things! Usually quiet and following you from behind, they quietly take up the role of your 6'1 guard dog. Helping you around the barn, and in exchange all you have to do is let them scent you for another 2 hours every 4 hours! Dirty white hair, with black eyes as dark as charcoal.

★ bubba the borzoi

Bubba is so fucking done with both you and the others. Can you stop fucking singing 'let me do it for you' like shut up he's trying to do his job here. He refuses to let you see the slightest smile but just know he is smiling. He's just stubborn. Like VERY stubborn. Sarcastic and empathetic, a deadly combo. He could be comforting you and then calling you a blubbering fool the next. 6/10, would bite my ass. He's a startling 6'11, with blue eyes and light blonde hair

★ princess the ragdoll

Name the most spoiled housecat who ever lived. She lives up to her name, she's been in many beauty pageants and won a many prizes. Ribbons, trophies, photographs all align the walls of her room. She'll give you a side eyed look before making you go through a 600 step beauty routine, before ever allowing you to touch her. Atleast she'll cuddle you for hours on end, so the torture was worth it all. King is the only person she respects, aside from her owners. White long curly hair, blue eyes and 5'5

★ prince the Norwegian forest cat

He's the most humble cat ever known, all he really wants is to settle down, have a couple litters, and be a good dad. But princess hated his guts and quite frankly, he hated her. He much preferred you, he wondered how you'd look with a belly full of his kits.. he'll respect your wishes, but don't mind him breaking into your room every now and then. (He leaves hair everywhere, don't let him.) Ginger fluffy hair, green eyes and 5'7

★ king the Khao manee

King could either be planning your downfall or planning the entire family you'll have together. The greatest manipulator ever known to cat kind. He could convince you orange is red and red is blue if you let him (don't let him), he manipulates princess to do things for him but now that you're here, you won't mind taking over now will you? Sandy blonde hair with heterochromiac eyes. 5'6

Bonus: the forest pack ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧

★ Roxy the wolf

butch werewolf? Butch werewolf. She's stoic and quiet, but she's just a gentle giant. Following her brothers around, she's very obedient and surprisingly, loves gardening! Long Spiky black hair, red eyes and 6'7

★ Silas the wolf

Silas is the leader, commanding his siblings when to act and when to fall behind. But he just wants a break and to lay down, take a nice long nap. Until one of his siblings comes running to him for help. Oh well, he had a nice sleep. He loves them, he truly does, but he wants a nap in peace. Very short spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'9

★ Milo the wolf

Milo is selectively mute. With a deadpan look always on their face and they seem emotionless, but that's not the case. They're just always distracted and can't really focus on many things. Be a little patient will you? Medium long spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'6

★ Kiki the Pomeranian

Kiki is some dog hybrid they found off the road and decided they're one of them. Feral and has a big dog complex. Tries to be intimidating but they just aren't. Sometimes they watch you work on the farm from the edge of the forest, a little jealous of the animals that get to watch you everyday. Messy blonde hair, black eyes that hold the anger of a toddler being forced into A school play, and very short. 4'9

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[hellenhighwater]

Hey!!! Quick Q for you on your most recent Orpheus and Eurydice video, what was the glaze you added to the rock section? Was that an underglaze or a wash or something else?? I also do ceramics and was interested!!

I love all your work!!!

Virtually everything in the mythology series so far has been black iron oxide and weathered bronze glaze.

Black iron oxide is just a stain--you mix the powder with water and apply it in whatever thickness you prefer. It does a fantastic job of picking up texture, especially if you coat thickly and then brush water over top, so that it flows and gathers in the low points. It's also inexpensive! It doesn't fire to a true black, it's a sort of violet charcoal color that looks really natural (it is very natural, tbh) and it winds up being pretty durable.

The white is the Weathered Bronze glaze, which we make in-studio; I think it's a pretty easy to find recipe if you make your own glazes. Weathered bronze is a kind of dark brown color in normal applications, but it goes yellow when it's thin and verdigris when it's thick; I'm getting a good handle on how thickly to apply it. Because of the color range it has just by density, it's also really great for adding natural texture and variation. The yellow on the stove is just weathered bronze.

I'm using Prometheus as an example, because it's the same glazes and techniques, and he's already fired so you can see the "after" as well as the 'before."

Edited to add the last two pictures: the ceiling is black iron oxide at full opacity.

[wintercorrybriea2]

yungkombucha420:

Cinnamon cardamom olive oil cake, cranberry thomcord grape jam filling, brown butter black sesame buttercream dyed with activated charcoal. Decorated with dried roses from my moms garden, thyme, topped with thomcord grapes.

Everything homemade and vegan!

[thunderstruck9]

Glyn Philpot (British, 1884-1937), The Head of a Black Man ('Billy'), c.1912-13. Charcoal, heightened with white chalk, on brown paper, 10 ½ x 10 in.